|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
 Posted: Fri Sep 24, 2010 5:20 pm
 ___________❶ ..................................... In which there are many Questions; a roleplay.
___________❷ ..................................... In which both Ring and Keeper find their Place; a solo.
___________❸ ..................................... In which Theo's interests take firm Root; a solo.
___________❹ ..................................... In which something special is Brewed; a solo.
___________❺ ..................................... In which Ophelia must play House; a roleplay.
___________❻ ..................................... In which there is an Accident; a solo.
___________❼ ..................................... In which Ophelia does Good by her Keeper; a solo.
___________❽ ..................................... In which many Challenges are Presented; a meta event.
___________❾ ..................................... In which Ophelia is Tempted by Bitter fruit; a meta event.
___________❿ ..................................... In which Theo barely avoids Arrest; a meta event.
___________❶❶ .................................. In which Theo's wait is brought to an End; a roleplay.
___________❶❷ .................................. In which Ophelia meets a Book she cannot Read; a roleplay.
___________❶❸ .................................. In which the World as Ophelia and Theo know it is Ripped open; a meta event.
___________❶❹ .................................. In which Ophelia searches for Purpose and Theo seeks Protection; a roleplay.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Sep 24, 2010 5:20 pm
 Ⅰ. ❝ In which there are many Questions. ❞❝ In Nomine Patris. ❞ ↪ For your consideration Here. In Nomine Patris. "It would not do to be late." Theo felt Ophelia's tiny black fingers digging into his neck as she clutched on during his hurry down the hall. In one hand he had a wrapped bundle, and the other a partially-crumpled piece of parchment that had been left on his door. He didn't need telling twice from the ring on being punctual - he knew that this was the meeting he'd been waiting for.
The recent weeks had passed by like molasses in the castle. Theo was not a man who enjoyed idleness, and without an established position in the Fellowship other than "newcomer" he had naught to do but spend time in his room and stay out of the way. Ophelia hadn't much more to offer there, other than asking him questions about certain things already present in the room, and prying him about things outside of the castle that he had seen. If anything, she had been his sole source of amusement in the idle days, and he enjoyed being able to tell her all kinds of things. In a way she was a great replacement for his journal as she picked up on his anxieties about being useless to the Fellowship - except that she was able to nod sympathetically.
His hands squeezed the wrapped hilt of the dagger. Then there was this thing. What would happen to the item he'd retrieved? What meaning did it really have to the Fellowship?
"Mind the display." Ophelia's even voice stirred him from musing and he corrected his trajectory; she was right - he'd nearly scraped over a suit of armor, bearing scuffs from the siege of Obscuvians in recent weeks. On top of that, there was the Troupe incident.. it was amazing to think that there had been so much animosity towards the Fellowship. Would it be his place to ask about that? He was a member now, he had proven his mettle, and that put him in just as much danger as any of the other members of the Mage faction. But he didn't want to be useless to his new comrades, and hopefully with this meeting he would find a solid path to follow.
Theo's pace slowed as the approached the meeting hall that had been noted, and he took another look at the paper to make sure. He knocked on the wooden door a little too roughly, and took a moment to rub his knuckles. Upon hearing the reply from inside - obviously Sir Sloane's voice - he nudged open the door and stepped inside. The Plague was standing behind a long table, and he bowed his head as the two moved further into the room.
"You wanted to see me, Sir Sloane?" The door ground shut behind him, and he partly turned to look except that Ophelia nudged his cheek firmly back towards the Infitialis. She had insisted upon coming to this meeting, even allowing the two bell Plagues to remain unsupervised (which was unusual; she didn't let them out of her sight normally). Theo mused that she must have been quite eager to see Sloane again, but with her hardly-yielding deadpan expression, he could never be sure. "Us, I mean." He glanced around the table and took the closest available chair, which placed him and his Caedos directly across the table from Sloane. He held the dagger in his hands, still wrapped in the scraps of his old robes from the night he'd retrieved it. It had stayed in his possession since the night of the mission, and given all the recent events - the raid on the castle and the disastrous incident with the Troupe de Panymium - he had been especially reluctant to take it out of its hiding place. He had no idea what kind of magics this thing may have been imbued with, and he didn't want to mess with it with so much unrest underway until he'd had a chance to properly speak to Lady Sage or Sloane. He hesitantly set it on the table before him.
It was time to get down to business.
"And now we must seek out the Head Apothecary," Ophelia said quietly. Theo nodded.
"Yes, we certainly should," Theo agreed, and with that he carried them back to the wing of the Bases they inhabited to strategize, to plan, for their future.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Fri Sep 24, 2010 5:26 pm
 ⅠⅠ. ❝ In which both Ring and Keeper find their Place. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 07, 2010 8:25 pm
ⅠⅠⅠ. ❝ In which Theo's interests take firm Root. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Thu Oct 07, 2010 8:26 pm
ⅠⅤ. ❝ In which something special is Brewed. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 07, 2010 8:27 pm
Ⅴ. ❝ In which Ophelia must play House. ❞❝ House of Dolls. ❞ ↪ For your consideration Here. House of Dolls. Ophelia was not pleased.
While the ring Excito was happy to see Sir Sloane again, no doubt, she had no time for frivolities such as "parties" - especially if they were going to take these useless trinkets of Plagues that shied away from her fearfully. There was much research to be done for her master's new apprenticeship, and he would need her to help him. If only these accursed children didn't insist on going to this party! She continued to sit in silence on Theo's lapel, the small gold and silver bell Plagues tittering away in the curve of the man's arms.
"Adelie, Kai, don't make a fuss," Theo grumbled and shook his arms gently, the bells falling silent momentarily only to start whispering excitedly to one other a minute later. Theo rolled his eyes, but returned watched them with a sort of distant affection in his eyes. Ophelia's own narrowed, unseen to the tiny Excitos.
Most definitely not pleased.
They passed two Grimms that she vaguely remembered from the day they had found the bells, and she caught sight of the smallish boy whose appearance was also fuzzy in her mind as he slid out of sight. Soon enough, her Theo would disappear as well and she would be trapped with them, and likely others whose company she would find detestable. At least she would have Sir Sloane to converse with, when all else failed. But all too soon, they came upon Sloane's room and Theo moved inside, approaching a rather elaborate dollhouse.
"Here you are, then." He deposited them next to the dollhouse in the tiny courtyard and seemed awkward momentarily. "Uhm.. have fun? And listen to Sir Sloane." Ophelia looked up at him reproachfully, knowing the little addendum was for the benefit of those blasted bells. Her Grimm did not seem to notice this, however, and merely inclined his head towards Sloane respectfully and took his leave. Ophelia watched the door close behind him, and as her two bell companions danced towards the others excitedly, she felt utterly abandoned in a room of children (and Sir Sloane - the only redeemable quality to this so-called "adventure"). She turned to address the Infitialis with a respectful incline of the head.
"Thank you for your invitation, Sir Sloane." Not that she was very excited.
Regardless, she was here and nothing was going to change that. With a moment to organize her thoughts, she turned around and moved to join the group. She saw many, many faces she did not recognize - indeed, many more Excito than she had ever seen, really. Many of them were small as Adelie and Kai were, and the two were already dancing around a multi-colored Excito who was also quite small.
"Hello!"
"Your colors are pretty!"
Ophelia ignored the bells' banter and took in the rest of the group. Her eyes widened just the slightest in recognition when they fell on Claudia. A small smile formed on her face to mask her irritation. She instead gave a polite bow to the small ensemble.
"I do not believe I have had the pleasure to be acquainted with most of you yet. My name is Ophelia." She rose back up properly and looked about the group with what could be taken as a polite, amiable expression. She turned this towards the flower Plague. "It is a delight to see you again, Claudia."
This was, indeed, going to be a long engagement. To be written upon completion.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 11:16 pm
ⅤⅠ. ❝ In which there is an Accident. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Dec 25, 2010 11:17 pm
ⅤⅠⅠ. ❝ In which Ophelia does Good by her Keeper. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 9:38 am
 ⅤⅠⅠⅠ. ❝ In which many Challenges are Presented. ❞❝ Credence. ❞ ↪ A Meta event, which is laid out Here. The Letter Theodore Lucas,
A Caedos to your name, and a priest as well? What would your church think of you if they knew you hone such a... monstrosity, I wonder? Would they throw you away?
Or will the Fellowship do that first? What good do they have of a pathetic man of the cloth like you?
And tonight.. tonight that raven had come to him. His eyes lingered at the window where the creature had stood.
A joke. This was most assuredly a joke, and the man was thoroughly not amused. He sat up as his aching bones protested and narrowed his eyes. Moonlight and a flickering candle were the only lights that cut through the oppressive darkness of his quarters.
"Is something the matter?" The quiet, serious voice of Ophelia drifted to him from the opposite table, where she had occupied herself with a large, dusty tome he had had brought from the library (his arms were too weak to carry the heavy thing). "It is the letter that troubles you." There was a soft snort from the basket between the tables and Ophelia cast a withering gaze towards the two sleeping Bell stunteds, nestled on the cushion, comfortable in their ignorance.
"Whomever wrote this must have known me," Theo confirmed, and Ophelia focused her lamplike eyes upon him, eyelids opening a little wider. "This is a danger, given the current social climate."
"I remember hearing Master Halloran saying such," Ophelia replied as she stood up to turn the page in the book that was much larger than she was, walking across the table to flop it down on the other side. Rather than continue reading, she turned, tucked in the fabric under her small thighs and took a seat on the pages of the book to face her Grimm. "But none can hurt us within these walls, Theo." The way she spoke with confidence reflected the once-unshakable assurance he had felt what seemed like a lifetime ago, within the confines of that tall Panymese church. It was dangerous to assume.
"But there has been trouble stirring, and as I am sent to confirm trade lines are perfectly clear, things will not always be safe. A low profile is what is needed right now." Ophelia nodded and laced her long fingers together atop her lap.
"Is there not anyone who can accompany you?" To his surprise, there was a note of something unusual in Ophelia's tone, a slight tremor quickly covered. Was this small, evil-looking creature worried for him? Afraid for him? He graced her with an awkward smile, which she took as a sign to stand and approach him. He held his hand down for her obligingly as she climbed into his palm, and he elevated her up to his shoulders.
"Master Halloran says we are to go about business as quietly as possible, which means no escorts." The stubborn old man did know something of political strife, having lived many more years than the young former priest. The less attention drawn to oneself and the organization, the better.
"But Theo," Ophelia added after a pause, and Theo was surprised to hear her voice so close to his ear. "Someone appears to have noticed you regardless." The thought that unsettled him, plainly voiced by his Plague.
"I know," was all he could reply with. The quorking of a raven drew both sets of eyes from the table to the window, and the tiny Bells shook awake in their basket, glancing around fearfully. Theo crossed over to the window, Ophelia holding tight, and sure enough another large, black raven soared over the courtyard below. It circled and landed on the outstretched arm of a man standing just off the path. The flickering torchlight in the courtyard made him hard to discern too clearly but the light must have caught his features in such a way that Theo froze, and his fingers clamped onto the windowledge. Ophelia noticed his tension immediately.
"Theo.. ?" An immediate, booming knock came to their attention and Theo jumped in surprise, causing the Bells to do the same and Ophelia to hold on for dear life. He glanced back into the courtyard and the man had disappeared, slipped into the trees. Another insistent knock demanded his attention, so as the Bells nervously chattered to one another ("Who is it?" "Why are there so many ravens here tonight, Master Theo?!") he crossed the room and opened the door. He groaned as his arms seized and burned and pained him, but rather than wait for him to pull it open enough so that he could wedge his foot between and open it fully, the man on the otherside pushed his way in.
"Master Halloran--" Theo gasped out, sweating with his exertion, but Oren Halloran held up a rolled piece of parchment and Theo understood. "The raven... came for you.. ?"
"Obscuvos never rests, does it?" Oren chuckled darkly, opening the crumpled letter again. "And it seems they're quite interested in you. What've you been doing with Obscuvos, boy?" The question caught both Grimm and Plague off guard.
"You dare to assume that my Master--" Ophelia cried indignantly, but Theo held a trembling hand up to quiet her.
"I know... the man who.. who sent these letters, yes," he replied to Oren laboriously, still trying to catch his breath. His mishap from the past few weeks would not be forgotten soon. "But I was not.. aware of his connection to.. to Obscuvos. Or if he really IS connected to them at all. This could be some.. elaborate ruse." Theo frowned thoughtfully, brow crinkled, his breath found at last. Oren folded his beefy arms over his chest and watched him with scrutiny. "What did he say to you?"
"What he says does not matter," Oren replied, and he took the paper in both hands and shredded it forcefully. "Who is this man?" The Bells quieted their talking and chirped in surprise at what was going on, and again Ophelia glared at them for their ill-placed chatter in a conversation for mature minds.
"He was the high priest at the church I lived in, before Ophelia." Theo's eyes followed the bits of Oren's letter as they drifted to the ground. "My superior. But what does he want with me? What purpose do these letters serve?" The two men looked at each other, and it was a while before Oren answered.
"To unsettle you." Oren's eyes again looked Theo over. "Seems to me he accomplished his goal." Theo was silent, and upon his shoulder Ophelia glanced towards the night sky beyond the window.
The clouds had thickened. A storm was coming.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 9:42 am
ⅠⅩ. ❝ In which Ophelia is Tempted by Bitter fruit. ❞❝ Credence. ❞ ↪ A Meta event, which is laid out Here. A Lovely Corpse What isn't particularly good for you Plaguefolk, Excitos included, is that while your Grimms are being stalked, you're being openly confronted. If you're already within the House of Obscuvos, you will be regaled with gifts and lavish decor for yourself, courtesy of the Holy Wife, and please, don't mind them if you overhear a fellow Obscuvan threatening your Grimm to do better-- we only want them to be a Remnant truly worth of the new world.
If you're not within the House of Obscuvos well, it's always better to convert later than never. The House of Obscuvos will attempt to take you, back to the consorts of the House chapels. If you don't comply, you will be taken by force. Do you fight back at all, and if you do, do you succeed or fail? Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Sun Mar 27, 2011 9:10 pm
Ⅹ. ❝ In which Theo barely avoids Arrest. ❞❝ Credence. ❞ ↪ A Meta event, which is laid out Here. Opposable Fingers Well, this is certainly no good, and it's not even the cultists' fault this time. There's been a kind of mass hysteria that's been hitting every other province outside of Imisus, where riots are still happening, seemingly an aftereffect (like it needs one) to the giant fiasco with the riots in the east. The remaining crew of the Panymese Press seems to have picked their place back up from Imisus and have been ravaging every province they can with propaganda and newspapers detailing scandalous and probably faulty news against the Council of Sciences and especially against the Fellowship of Mages and, worst of all, pitting everyone else in a survival of the fittest.
The main thing that has been hitting up rumors on the street in one form or another is that it's solely Emperor Rine VIII's doing that the Black Death is deterring Panymium at such a quick rate, and that the Black Death is predicted to wipe out everyone by the end of the season. They are starting fights, they are committing suicide and, most of all, they are against you in every way. Not only that, but the Council supposedly predicted that the Plagues are a direct effect to quickening the disease's potency.
Avoiding conflict with angry townsmen, even for nobles, is near impossible. So, please, do detail us in about your particular woes with these folk.
Patrols had been tighter than ever thanks to the hysteria that had gripped Panymium; it had only been by evoking a lot of smooth talking and a bit of palm greasing that he had been able to cross into the town to conduct Oren's business. The smaller towns were not so closely watched. Small hamlets where people who feared the onset of Plague could take their lives quietly, without disturbance, thier bodies left for the crows. Here, there was nowhere to hide. Even when others tried to clear away the deceased and properly dispose of the bodies, Theo's nose knew the smell of death. His eyes remained firmly ahead and it took much self-control to keep his gaze from averting.
The Fellowship's presence, usually somewhat welcome within Shyregoed, was now eyed suspiciously. Theo could hide that he was a member of the Fellowship easily enough, as he had not the livery of the higher ranks nor the entourage, he also did not wear the mark. There was no strength of presence that came with higher rank and magical ability (the latter crossed his mind and left a bitter taste in his mouth); here he could duck his head and go about his business without any (other than Oren's contact at the supplier) knowing that he was a member of the Fellowship. The thought was another dose of bitter medicine - the faction he had so believed would protect him and offer him a niche within was now an enemy, and he was hiding his association like an ungrateful coward. That was another skill he had picked up during his time with the Panyma clergy, however - adaptation was the key to survival. More depended on the successful closing of this deal and the assurance of trade than his proudly boasting of his allegiance.
"Be careful out there," the shopkeeper's assistant replied with a wary glance towards the crowd at the gate. Theo nodded stiffly and took the boy's offer of assistance to resecure his bag before he headed out into the early morning. His arms ached in the cold but he kept his head down and continued to walk. The trade caravan he had originally arrived with had departed, and Oren had advised him to return on horseback, alone, so as not to draw attention to himself. With the restless townsfolk he had seen at every stop, the guards' glares as they held up traffic in and out of town, he was inclined to believe him. The letters he had received shortly before leaving and Ophelia's distant and unattentive attitude weighed heavily upon his mind as well. The face of the high priest swam before his eyes and his blood boiled.
How dare that man plant those doubts into his head.
Crowding at the town gate had been a common sight for a fair few months, and locals had taken to providing their own protection as trust in the Emperor had declined. Such was the case for this small town - if Theo had not needed the supplies he might have skipped it altogether. Oren was insistent - "Business will continue even in times like this, and it is your duty to adapt to it. You said you adapt, didn't you, you snake?" Theo frowned at the insult anew, but the old man was right. If anything, Theo was very adaptable.
The crowd thickened as he pressed through towards the gate, and eyes strayed his way as they clearly marked him as a stranger to their town. He could feel people on all sides of him, and the townsfolk appointed as guards kept the flow of traffic unbearably slow. Something brushed the hand that rested on his bag, but as he turned his gaze towards it, the sensation had vanished. Again he felt the eyes.
'Don't be a fool,' he chastised himself, 'You are making this worse than it already is.'
Again he felt tingling sensation on the back of his neck, the one that told him someone was watching closely nearby. His head had only but turned a bit to the right when his mouth ran dry, lips pulled into what he hoped was a firm look.
The high priest of his former church smiled what he might have considered a genial smile once upon a time, but there was too much between them for it to seem anything less than sinister. He eyed Theo searchingly, who in response turned his gaze away and fixed it towards the front, where an argument had broken out between the self-appointed town guard and what appeared to be some official Guards who had stopped through during a journey.
"You followed me," Theo muttered without looking at him. He could feel his former supervisor's eyes boring into him.
"I did," he replied simply. "To try and reason with you one more time to return the ring you had stolen from us."
"The one you had thrown away, fearing the attentions of the House," Theo replied quietly, and this time inclined his head slightly to look at the high priest with a scathing glare. "Was this before or after the House had already infiltrated the church of Panyma?" The high priest did not miss a beat and in reply to Theo's earlier rebuff, he turned his head towards the front, the corners of his lips twitching into another smile and his eyelids lowering lazily.
"Obscuvos is welcoming to those who embrace Him, and I was promised a similar position to what I had before," was the simple reply. "The ring reflects much of your personality, Theo. She will be shown a better path through Obscuvos, and a much stronger Grimm." Theo's fingers, numb with cold, clenched into fists.
"I doubt you have convinced her," Theo said, in a shaky attempt to feel out the man's bluff. The high priest's demeanor was inpenetrable, and dread curdled in Theo's stomach. The same brushing sensation against his hand distracted the former priest, who was watching the man before him warily.
"Why convince her when I am so much larger than her and can simply, ah --" His eye drew downward and before Theo could sidestep him, the man reached into his knapsack and pulled out, to Theo's astonishment, a small wriggling Plague, clothed in gold. The look of triumph on his face quickly soured as the Plague wriggling in his grasp revealed a belled dress and a bright, shining face, in contrast to Ophelia's darker complexion.
"M-Master Theo!" Adelie cried and Theo grabbed for her, but the high priest held her aloft, out of reach of the shorter man, and he shoved him hard in his aching, weakened arms.
And then a cry rang out from the crowd.
"A PLAGUE! THERE IS A PLAGUE AMONG US!"
The chaos was immediate and Theo felt a hard shove to his right side that sent his still-healing arms into a shaking fit. Adelie tumbled from the priest's grasp and he reached out to catch the stunted but she slipped through his fingers. He caught a glimpse of gold between jostling legs and then she was gone. The high priest had disappeared into the panicked crowd as well, but the town patrol took control of the situation. A man only just shorter than he was grabbed him roughly by the arm. Around them, others were being lined up, briefly shouted at, and taken away. The man gave him a perfunctuary glance and shoved him along with the others.
Theo was a survivor who prided himself on his ability to adapt, but prison walls would prove to be an entirely different kind of adaptation. His arms began to tremble again, although it was not the cold nor his sensitive muscles that began it. Terror dried his mouth and made him unable to swallow.
What would happen to Ophelia? How long would the Fellowship wait when they noticed he had not returned? Or had he committed the same mistake that he had in the church and overestimated his importance again? The high priest's words rang in his ears.
All he could do was hope he would survive imprisonment and that the Fellowship would remember him.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 7:39 pm
ⅩⅠ. ❝ In which Theo's wait is brought to an End. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 7:43 pm
ⅩⅠⅠ. ❝ In which Ophelia meets a Book she cannot Read. ❞❝ The Unreadable Book. ❞ ↪ For your consideration Here. Coming soon . . roleplay with Hopkin and Wick.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 7:45 pm
ⅩⅠⅠⅠ. ❝ In which the World as Ophelia and Theo know it is Ripped open. ❞❝ Be Still. ❞ ↪ For your consideration Here. Be Still. The first thing Theo noticed upon waking was the dull ache that had settled in the back of his skull. Distrust had walked in with the messenger and settled somewhere firmly in his chest, even as he accepted the invitation given to him. But Theo was no fool - he knew a veiled order when he'd seen it, and he knew they would have brought him even if he and Ophelia had declined. So rightfully so, his action warranted this heavy-headed feeling, but..
Where was Ophelia?
Panic seized the former priest, and was momentarily heightened when the silver-skinned man at the podium began to speak. He stayed his own bubble of questions and masked his discomfort with the situation once more. He had spent a month imprisoned because of his association with the Plagues, and now once again he was separated from Ophelia. For the comfort of the Emperor? That did not matter much to Theo. He had not known true comfort in a long while. What he wanted was his ring.
A scarlet-hooded woman voiced her annoyance at the proceedings, and he nodded in silent agreement. That was when Theo took note of those who surrounded him. There were many familiar faces in the seats - that mousy woman he had met in both his former occupation and more recently, the street urchin (yet another ghost from his past), who was now struggling to climb over the chairs to get to the stage. He looked to the stage and noticed the Plagues. Lined up and organized by appearance. This was certainly queer. So organized, thorough. He spotted Ophelia among the others, thanks in part to the golden halo around her head, and he felt the ache of her absence from his shoulder.
Yes, this had better be worth the time.
-------
Ophelia's half-mast gaze focused on the item-lined platform in front of her. She blinked a few times and slowly lifted her head up to take in her surroundings. Certainly a lavish-looking theater. Her head swiveled to the left and right, and she saw others like herself.. more Plagues. That rude flower was a short distance from her. As her attention returned to the seats before them, even in her semi-dazed state she was able to pick out her Theo among the other Grimms in the audience. It was then that the reality of the situation sank in. There was no need to dwell on the invitation and the meeting - she and Theo were in much of a similar way of thinking, and did not trust many strangers who came to their door. The Obscuvan threat a while ago had taught them that.
No, what bothered her was the position she was in. She was lined up here among others of her kind, like some trinket on display. These scientists had separated her from her master, her Theo. Her small fingers were stiff, but they curled into loose, shaking fists at her sides as her face remained forever placid - yet another trick she had learned from her Grimm.
How dare they take her from her Theo. How. Dare. They.
Emperor, Council or no, she did not like this. However it was apparent to her that for now, she could do nothing - not with her limbs feeling like iron. Most disquieting of all was how was warm it felt on this pedestal.. familiar and somehow strange. For now, she would have to bide her time and wait for her strength to return, or for her Theo to come claim her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Friendly Conversationalist
|
Posted: Fri Apr 01, 2011 7:46 pm
ⅩⅠⅤ. ❝ In which Ophelia searches for Purpose and Theo seeks Protection. ❞ Coming soon . .
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
