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This was the cost of attempting to slay the one you loved, even if it was the right face but the wrong heart.

The king growled his frustration, glaring daggers at the one who had once been Grief. Someone kept changing the rules and it was starting to look less likely that this whole thing would come out without bloodshed. Something caught Mort's eye over Wilson's shoulder, however, and he stilled when he saw the burst of red in the darkness - and suddenly most of the anger simmered into a burning bitterness in his stomach. "What damage has been done to me you cannot heal," he said simply before the Black king made his entrance, walking past as if in a trance.

So she'd made it.

He knew his imperative, knew this was just a fake and nothing more, and yet . . . The sword remained pointed to the floor as he grasped the faerie's arm and yanked her up forcefully from the throne of pride, where still more had been carved and painted upon.

It was the perfect object for this predicament: something once sacred now defiled.


((whoops sorry about double quote orz))

Was she crying yet? She was close to it. Really close to it.

Sore, angry, upset, turned around who knows how many times.... she wanted an end. She wanted answers. She wanted her sight back. Her wings folded down around her shoulders, tail curling somewhat around herself as she walked. Inward, downward, the smooth floor betraying nothing of where she was going.

Step by step, she felt something in the air beginning to change. A hum? How..? She could hear nothing, see nothing. Yet towards the sensation she went, hands reaching out from under her wings. After a moment, her fingers skimmed along something solid, sturdy, cold. The more she searched, the more it dawned on her what she was encountering. A chair. A large chair. A large chair with something very.... very odd about it.

A few steps were taken, trying to circle the massive thing. But her foot caught on something, and the dragon let out a soundless shriek as she went tumbling down, wings stretching out uselessly to try and catch herself. She hit something. Something cold.

Her tail flicked and slashed through the air, sliding across the ground as she tried to remove herself from whatever she just fell on. As she scrambled to at least move off of whatever it was, her tail hit something. Cold, yes, but... it felt weird. The slender tip of her tail curled around whatever it was, slim and solid. She could feel spikes across the... thing. The dragon breathed heavily, trying to regain as much of herself as she could as she crouched by the throne, and... whatever was in front of her.

Whatever it was, it likely felt the air she was huffing out.

Tentatively, she reached out, ink dripping more freely from under her claws in her flail and panic.

After climbing the stairs for a while, he decided he won't give a s**t. He jumped off the ridge even though he's a blind now. Obviously, he forgot he was holding someone.

He landed safe and continue to find the Voice in this kind of darkness. AJ encountered several pillars, feeling cold as ice and turned his direction a few times. Finally, he reached something, he used his hand to feel it, the surface was smooth and flat. He thus swept his hand along the surface until he came into contact with something again. He tried to guess what it was by finding the edges of the item. It was a shaped in a rectangle, with many crinkles and waves on it. In the middle, there was an indentation. A book! A heavy book with crinkled papers.

Ofelia's Belladonna sense was tingling but considering she couldn't do anything that would have her properly finding the person she was feeling for she just...walked into the wall.

Walls were amazing.

Having remained next to the throne, pondering what it meant, especially with all the other...information he'd been given. Sighing (silently, of course), he took a step to the side, tapping his toe carefully on the floor before setting it down.

A few steps away from the throne, his toe bumped up into a...pillar in the middle of the floor. Carefully shifting closer, he realized it was hollow in the middle, with...liquid inside. Dipping his hand inside of it carefully, he felt along the bottom--what an odd thing, to have indoors. He wondered if it was used for some sort of ritual of baptism, or rebirth--maybe in anointing a newly apointed king?!

The darkness was all encompassing, and Nevena sat silently upon the throne, her eyes boring into the darkness though she could see nothing. What was she to do? Her guess--if you could call it that--was unlikely to do anything of importance.

Her thoughts crashed to a halt as something suddenly sat on her, and Nevena would have shrieked if she had been able. Just as suddenly, the weight vanished, but she had already leaped to her feet.

The girl didn't hesitate, balling her hand into a fist and lashed out as hard as she could. Sit on her, would you?! She'd make you suffer for it!

When Shun reached for her hand, Riley actually took a minute to wonder just what in the hell he was doing. Was he determined not to let another crash by someone make them lose one another? Maybe, but there were better ways-

She jolted in surprise when she felt sign language being pressed into her hand. She couldn't have fathomed any reason why Shun would know sign language. Her hand tensed, going rigid as she recorded the letters in order until finally putting them together. If she could chuckle, she would. Unfortunately, Riley's knowledge of sign language was extensive, and when she grabbed his hands to answer, her movements went a little fast. Whether or not he could grasp everything at once..

H-o-w-t-h-e-h-e-l-l-d-o-i-k-n-o-w-s-o-m-e-i-d-i-o-t-j-u-s-t-s-l-a-m-m-e-d-i-n-t-o-u-s-w-h-i-l-e-r-u-n-n-i-n-g-a-w-a-y-

Shun should probably tell her to slow down.