❘❘❘ ⁺‧˚𓂃 ཐ WYTHORNE GV : SETTINGS PROMPT.
𝓭o not rb unless you're a member of the group verse !
the docks on a grey morning, waves lapping against wood.
the cobbled path to the atrium, greenery spilling over the edges.
the library when it's almost empty, late afternoon light on old spines.
a bench near the fountain, close enough to feel the mist.
the mess hall at 2am, someone's left tea steeping.
a dormitory hallway as someone's music bleeds through the walls.
the atrium in the early morning, sunlight hitting glass panels above.
the watch tower bar at golden hour, glass walls turning everything amber.
a window seat halfway up the watch tower; the docks small and quiet below.
the watch tower stairwell between floors, footsteps echoing above you.
a table near the bar; close enough to the glass to watch the weather change.
the watch tower at night, every floor lit up like a lantern on the water.
a study nook on the ninth floor of the watch tower.
the greenhouse when it's raining, everything dripping and green and loud.
the observatory steps; wind coming off the cliffs.
the fountain at night, when the sound of water is the only thing moving.
a path behind the atrium that you've never taken before.
the lake at midday, still enough to see straight to the bottom.
one of the small islands in the center of the lake, still and quiet.
the dormitory laundry rooms, late at night; waiting.
the river where it narrows, water moving fast over smooth rock.
a bridge crossing, mist coming up off the water below.
the top of the falls, close enough to the edge to feel your stomach drop.
a stretch of beach you had to walk an hour through the woods to find.
the portside beach at low tide; wet sand and the smell of salt.
the cemetery in the early morning, air chilly and headstones dewey.
a grave with a name you recognize from the atrium statues.
the cliffside path; sea spray on your face and the wind pulling your clothes.
the mess hall during a thunderstorm, rain loud on the glass above.
the woods in the early morning, birdsong and cold air and no one else.
a footpath through the woods, the canopy so thick the light goes green.
the woods at dusk; you're walking faster than you'd admit.
the dormitory circle at night, windows lit in every building.
undertow on a saturday with a bass you can feel in your teeth.
the lantern room after someone vouched for you.
morrigan's rest on a weekend, bustling with overly animated patrons.
solas when the fairy lights first flicker on and the sun's still setting.
a barstool next to someone you didn't come with.
the harbour cinema; a film you've never heard of and a seat that leans.
a smoking area behind a bar, leaning against cold red brick.
the low tide, the first band of the night setting up while you're still eating.
gardenside turfs while the fire pits are lit; someone's brought a guitar.
gardenside turfs at closing, no one wanting to be the first to leave.
a shadowy booth in the back of a pub you can't remember the name of.
lucky's boardwalk in the evening, losing coins to a rigged claw machine.
lucky's boardwalk with farmer's market stalls and the smell of something fried.
a cobblestone main street after the rain, lamplight on wet stone.
the ember house on a weeknight, woodsmoke and a forty-minute wait.
salty teagan's, the chowder you didn't ask for arriving before anything else.
salty teagan's on a quiet afternoon; a window seat and the harbor, doing nothing.
a bench on the harbor wall, watching the ships as they come in and depart.
dulse & honey when you're hungover; seaweed in your eggs and it somehow helps.
bramble & bone in the rain; coffee and whatever bread they made this morning.
the back corner of carraigh's curios, where the murphys don't let you browse alone.
wandering amongst the many oddities for sale at carraigh's curios.
driftwood records, flipping through seemingly endless vinyl.
the chandlery when you didn't need anything but wandered in anyways.
the séance room, empty, incense still burning from the last meeting.
