bliss lane
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Jimmy Eat World
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Phantogram Three
sheepfilms
macklin celebrini has autism
Today's Document
oozey mess
One Nice Bug Per Day
The Bowery Presents
noise dept.
izzy's playlists!
h
pixel skylines
Cosimo Galluzzi
★
Sade Olutola
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Game of Thrones Daily
seen from United Kingdom
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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@body-over-soul
He JUST EXPECTS SO MUCH OUT OF YOU... YOU POOR SOUL.
FOLLOW me. WORSHIP me. LOVE IS A DISTRACTION, CAN'T YOU SEE?
YOU AND i CAN DO GREAT THINGS.
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
curious. which way leads to what, i wonder? how do you go about this judgment of yours?
|the burning fruit smells almost closer. It feels like somebody is looking right over her shoulder, peering at whatever she does.|
|the moth takes flight, moving up to fly in circles around fulcrums head before landing upon the side of her blindfold.|
…you’re askIng a lot of questIons here.
truthfully, I dont have an answer. not a satIsfyIng one, at least. try to gather evIdence, try to fInd those who have been hurt or…who have been wItness to that hurt. go from there.
( she watches the moth until she can’t anymore. )
Ive been told that I am most fIt for It because of some Inherent knowledge of what Is ‘rIght’. I suppose I’ve learned not to questIon It too much, It would be a waste of His tIme.
how interesting. and i must ask questions, it is only natural. curiosity is what makes such mortal minds as yours, is it not? the need to know more?
i must ask, however...
|a hand lands on her shoulder. Absolutely physical. If she looked at it, she would find a gaunt thing, fingers just a bit too long and stained in inky darkness.|
what would you judge me? from first impressions alone.
|the moth flew off of her blindfold to land on the pointer finger of this hand.|
I suppose you may be correct.
( the physicality makes her look, her head turning just slightly to see it in her peripherals. )
…fIrst ImpressIons?
I’d say you are…as you saId, curIous. but I enjoyed the chat.
( the scales on her arm tip at the sight of the hand. )
…I suppose that’s all you gave me for a fIrst ImpressIon.
( her expression is still, schooled to stay neutral, even with what could be recognition in her eyes. )
.... hm
|the hand drops away to the dark behind her.|
i have.. enjoyed this as well. though i should likely be taking my leave.
|the moth flew off ahead. Disappearing deeper into the maze.|
its been pleasant talking with you, fulcrum.
|there's a sudden absence of presence. The voice is no longer there|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
curious. which way leads to what, i wonder? how do you go about this judgment of yours?
|the burning fruit smells almost closer. It feels like somebody is looking right over her shoulder, peering at whatever she does.|
|the moth takes flight, moving up to fly in circles around fulcrums head before landing upon the side of her blindfold.|
…you’re askIng a lot of questIons here.
truthfully, I dont have an answer. not a satIsfyIng one, at least. try to gather evIdence, try to fInd those who have been hurt or…who have been wItness to that hurt. go from there.
( she watches the moth until she can’t anymore. )
Ive been told that I am most fIt for It because of some Inherent knowledge of what Is ‘rIght’. I suppose I’ve learned not to questIon It too much, It would be a waste of His tIme.
how interesting. and i must ask questions, it is only natural. curiosity is what makes such mortal minds as yours, is it not? the need to know more?
i must ask, however...
|a hand lands on her shoulder. Absolutely physical. If she looked at it, she would find a gaunt thing, fingers just a bit too long and stained in inky darkness.|
what would you judge me? from first impressions alone.
|the moth flew off of her blindfold to land on the pointer finger of this hand.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
curious. which way leads to what, i wonder? how do you go about this judgment of yours?
|the burning fruit smells almost closer. It feels like somebody is looking right over her shoulder, peering at whatever she does.|
|the moth takes flight, moving up to fly in circles around fulcrums head before landing upon the side of her blindfold.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
...really?
everything has Its Interest. funny.
I stIll dont understand. there are countless others to follow, probably thousands of sInners who have more InterestIng encounters than I ever would. and yet you choose to remaIn as, In your words, thIs fly on a wall.
( her sword lowers, though her grip doesnt loosen- instead, it goes back to point towards the floor. probably so she doesnt accidentally harm herself in any way. )
exactly.
besides. don't you crave a little company? i'm certain it gets lonely.
|the voice purred. Still somehow standing just out of sight. Like if you turned your head enough you'd see them lazing there against the wall.|
...I...I do not get lonely.
that Is not what I was made for.
...
but fIne. perhaps I wIll Indulge you. It wont be very entertaInIng, It Is quIte empty at thIs moment.
i am not here to be entertained.
|the voice pushed from the wall they leaned against. Sounding as though they were walking off ahead, the way fulcrum was originally going.|
sure.
( she doesn’t sound convinced, but she goes anyway, picking her pace back up in that direction. it seems like there’s no actual destination, as she almost mindlessly scrapes a path into the ground with her sword. it makes a horrid, echoey sound, one that she does not flinch at. )
( she occasionally hums, although the melody goes nowhere. )
|they followed along anyways the sound of boots clocking slowly against floor always with that smokey fruit scent.|
|a little burgundy moth flits around. Dark marks swirling on its bloodink wings.|
are you a judge then? those scales would lend me a guess.
...Ive been appoInted one, somewhat.
that wasnt what I was meant for orIginally, but I suppose being a vessel for justIce makes you a good judge.
( she smiles just a little bit at the thought, but it quickly drops again. she takes notice of the moth, and watches it, her gaze following where it flits. )
hm. pretty.
mm. who exactly do you judge? the sinners around here? Isn't that His job?
|He was mentioned with a certain amount of emphasis. Though easy to miss.|
|the moth flew in small circles, eventually landing on a side of fulcrum's scales.|
eh?
( a slight pause, as fulcrum glances down at the moth on her scale. she doesnt shoo it away...not yet at least. )
no, no, not usually- and not in the same way. Im more of a...protector of them.
my judgements of sInners are...few and far between, and mostly to help them with self-judgement. some people dont look InsIde themselves- passing the blame to everythIng and anythIng but theIr own hands.
( fulcrum stops speaking for a moment, the sound of her metal boots echoing. )
but mostly I judge these entities themselves. these sIns.
and you said i would find no interest in this. that is certainly something, however. judging the sins themself.... hmm, your "judgement" wouldn't happen to take to that blade you wield, would it?
|the voice at all points remained just behind her. It felt clear that there was absolutely somebody standing there.|
|the moth folded its wings. Fuzzy antennae twitching up towards her. Watching.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
...really?
everything has Its Interest. funny.
I stIll dont understand. there are countless others to follow, probably thousands of sInners who have more InterestIng encounters than I ever would. and yet you choose to remaIn as, In your words, thIs fly on a wall.
( her sword lowers, though her grip doesnt loosen- instead, it goes back to point towards the floor. probably so she doesnt accidentally harm herself in any way. )
exactly.
besides. don't you crave a little company? i'm certain it gets lonely.
|the voice purred. Still somehow standing just out of sight. Like if you turned your head enough you'd see them lazing there against the wall.|
...I...I do not get lonely.
that Is not what I was made for.
...
but fIne. perhaps I wIll Indulge you. It wont be very entertaInIng, It Is quIte empty at thIs moment.
i am not here to be entertained.
|the voice pushed from the wall they leaned against. Sounding as though they were walking off ahead, the way fulcrum was originally going.|
sure.
( she doesn’t sound convinced, but she goes anyway, picking her pace back up in that direction. it seems like there’s no actual destination, as she almost mindlessly scrapes a path into the ground with her sword. it makes a horrid, echoey sound, one that she does not flinch at. )
( she occasionally hums, although the melody goes nowhere. )
|they followed along anyways the sound of boots clocking slowly against floor always with that smokey fruit scent.|
|a little burgundy moth flits around. Dark marks swirling on its bloodink wings.|
are you a judge then? those scales would lend me a guess.
...Ive been appoInted one, somewhat.
that wasnt what I was meant for orIginally, but I suppose being a vessel for justIce makes you a good judge.
( she smiles just a little bit at the thought, but it quickly drops again. she takes notice of the moth, and watches it, her gaze following where it flits. )
hm. pretty.
mm. who exactly do you judge? the sinners around here? Isn't that His job?
|He was mentioned with a certain amount of emphasis. Though easy to miss.|
|the moth flew in small circles, eventually landing on a side of fulcrum's scales.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
...really?
everything has Its Interest. funny.
I stIll dont understand. there are countless others to follow, probably thousands of sInners who have more InterestIng encounters than I ever would. and yet you choose to remaIn as, In your words, thIs fly on a wall.
( her sword lowers, though her grip doesnt loosen- instead, it goes back to point towards the floor. probably so she doesnt accidentally harm herself in any way. )
exactly.
besides. don't you crave a little company? i'm certain it gets lonely.
|the voice purred. Still somehow standing just out of sight. Like if you turned your head enough you'd see them lazing there against the wall.|
...I...I do not get lonely.
that Is not what I was made for.
...
but fIne. perhaps I wIll Indulge you. It wont be very entertaInIng, It Is quIte empty at thIs moment.
i am not here to be entertained.
|the voice pushed from the wall they leaned against. Sounding as though they were walking off ahead, the way fulcrum was originally going.|
sure.
( she doesn’t sound convinced, but she goes anyway, picking her pace back up in that direction. it seems like there’s no actual destination, as she almost mindlessly scrapes a path into the ground with her sword. it makes a horrid, echoey sound, one that she does not flinch at. )
( she occasionally hums, although the melody goes nowhere. )
|they followed along anyways the sound of boots clocking slowly against floor always with that smokey fruit scent.|
|a little burgundy moth flits around. Dark marks swirling on its bloodink wings.|
are you a judge then? those scales would lend me a guess.
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
...really?
everything has Its Interest. funny.
I stIll dont understand. there are countless others to follow, probably thousands of sInners who have more InterestIng encounters than I ever would. and yet you choose to remaIn as, In your words, thIs fly on a wall.
( her sword lowers, though her grip doesnt loosen- instead, it goes back to point towards the floor. probably so she doesnt accidentally harm herself in any way. )
exactly.
besides. don't you crave a little company? i'm certain it gets lonely.
|the voice purred. Still somehow standing just out of sight. Like if you turned your head enough you'd see them lazing there against the wall.|
...I...I do not get lonely.
that Is not what I was made for.
...
but fIne. perhaps I wIll Indulge you. It wont be very entertaInIng, It Is quIte empty at thIs moment.
i am not here to be entertained.
|the voice pushed from the wall they leaned against. Sounding as though they were walking off ahead, the way fulcrum was originally going.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
...really?
everything has Its Interest. funny.
I stIll dont understand. there are countless others to follow, probably thousands of sInners who have more InterestIng encounters than I ever would. and yet you choose to remaIn as, In your words, thIs fly on a wall.
( her sword lowers, though her grip doesnt loosen- instead, it goes back to point towards the floor. probably so she doesnt accidentally harm herself in any way. )
exactly.
besides. don't you crave a little company? i'm certain it gets lonely.
|the voice purred. Still somehow standing just out of sight. Like if you turned your head enough you'd see them lazing there against the wall.|
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( with nothing there, she breathes in, then out. the scent makes her cringe just slightly, before she schools her expression. )
and why Is that?
I wouldnt call myself partIcularly InterestIng to watch. youd only be wastIng your tIme.
( the scales attached to her have tipped, one side moving down without anything in it, but its something she seems to pay no mind to. )
id quite disagree. everything has its interest. and time cannot be wasted when i have all i could ever want and more.
|the footsteps shift. Boots clicking against brick flooring. A scuff against the wall as if something is leaning against it.|
i am only here to observe. think of me as a fly upon the wall.
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( her first instinct, the first natural thing, is to turn in the direction of the voice- her sword raises slightly in front of her. )
notIce. rIght.
well, I notIce now.
( an attempt at a neutral expression, but she grits her teeth a little too hard. )
what do you want.
|there is nobody standing there. The voice comes from behind her again. Smooth. Level. With a hint of rasp. The air has this burnt fruit scent to it.|
me? nothing at all. i only planned to follow and watch whatever it is you do.
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
( with the scraping of her sword on the ground, she does not hear at first- too busy and focused on whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
the moment fulcrum noticed is when she stopped moving, hand tightening on her sword and blindfold. she tensed, but did not speak, as though waiting for more noise. waiting for more movement. )
|the steps stop a split second after her own. No further motions were made. No following sounds.|
|then a voice.|
i was beggining to wonder when you would notice.
( the hallways arent often quiet- maze alight with pink reflecting off of the walls, a glimmer of light that changes with each entity. this time, in this corner, the quiet has encroached.
left there in the quiet is fulcrum, standing straight, her sword making imprints in the ground. her blindfold is half-lifted to see, her scales dangling off her arm and making a thin light that flickers once or twice.
it seems, for now, there is no sinner for her to help. alone, alive, machinations following their unspoken path. )
...
|at some point, there was a second pair of footsteps following her. At first so perfectly in synch with her own they'd be hard to notice. But if one listened, they were there.|
…..who are you…..and what are you supposed to be?
(If 🫧 isn’t taken I would like to be the bubble anon :3)
i AM FREE. i AM ALL THAT YOU COULD BE. IF YOU ONLY CHOSE TO FOLLOW.
A being similar to that faded robloxian appears, but their face isn't covered, the colors are vibrant, their form isn't glitchy, it's stable, it's even making the void around it a bit brighter
The ####? Where am I now?
- @robloxian-dug
|the prison sighs. Chains shifting. Scales clicking.|
|there's no further response.|
Well $###, more robots? Maybe reptiles? Oh boy... Time to see what will kill me now...
YOU PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE HERE. YOU PEOPLE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.
|a voice hissed. Quiet, from the space around. The chains clicked again. Something shifting.|
Eh? A voice? Oh I'm not meant to be here? Well... Any idea how I can leave? Cause I'mma be honest... I don't wanna be here either.
GET OUT. i AM SICK OF YOUR PEOPLE AND YOUR DISTURBANCES. i DONT CARE HOW. GO UPWARD. WHERE YOU BELONG. NOT IN THIS PIT OF PITS.
|the voice was strained. Snarled. Such contrast.{
A being similar to that faded robloxian appears, but their face isn't covered, the colors are vibrant, their form isn't glitchy, it's stable, it's even making the void around it a bit brighter
The ####? Where am I now?
- @robloxian-dug
|the prison sighs. Chains shifting. Scales clicking.|
|there's no further response.|
Well $###, more robots? Maybe reptiles? Oh boy... Time to see what will kill me now...
YOU PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE HERE. YOU PEOPLE ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE.
|a voice hissed. Quiet, from the space around. The chains clicked again. Something shifting.|
A being similar to that faded robloxian appears, but their face isn't covered, the colors are vibrant, their form isn't glitchy, it's stable, it's even making the void around it a bit brighter
The ####? Where am I now?
- @robloxian-dug
|the prison sighs. Chains shifting. Scales clicking.|
|there's no further response.|
