"Find within yourselves a moment in your life that defines how you wish to manipulate the arcane."
Douglas's mind immediately cast itself back to a memory from the ritual circle, at the first coven gathering when they knew he- well, it was there. It learned that it was curious as it watched the heads of witches turning to look over their shoulders. The secrets it had learned that night, of potions and spellcraft and petty jealousy and companionship. They left soon after its searching, unexplained trepidation in every voice, and it had waited eagerly for more beings to arrive. More to learn about humans.
The sorcerer who came next offered some
Wooden buildings, colorful awnings, and suspicious glances surrounded Douglas on all sides as he entered Umbra’s marketplace. He shifted the pack on his shoulder, and his chin angled ever so slightly upward at the glare of a butcher. He wasn’t nervous, of course. Aware of the hostile presences in his surroundings? Yes. More aware than most would have been, in fact. But that didn’t mean it bothered him.
Still, he was going to have to interact with people here, and he wasn’t going to be able to lie about who or what he was. That was a formidable task.
He strode as assuredly as he could manage to an old two-story buildi
Gabby realized she had left her keys in the car the instant the door clicked shut.
It had been a long day at work and an even longer drive home. The gray sky melted into the gray earth in every direction, rain sweeping over the ground with a motion so consistent it didn't register as motion anymore. It simply was- a cold, flat plain that stretched above and beneath her with equal dreariness. She wanted more than anything to get inside her shabby rented home, heat up a frozen dinner, and make reality disappear for a while as she watched someone renovate a mansion on TV.
And now she couldn't do that because her keys were locked inside her car.
Arthur Winnipeg eyed the entrance to his cell apprehensively. To all appearances he should have been able to walk out of his own accord without any trouble. There was no door, not even a doorway, only three walls that formed a sort of giant alcove with the end open to a hall lined with similar alcoves. He’d already tried to leave though, and as he’d stepped forward the air had hardened in front of him like a pane of glass.
He rubbed absently at the stump where his recently confiscated prosthetic hand should have been, but behind the wire-rimmed spectacles his eyes still fixated on the edges of the walls where they met the hallway
Once upon a time there was a ritual circle somewhere that for thousands of years was considered a site of concentrated magical energy- though it was only so because so many people used it for magical purposes. Witches gathered there, sorcerers summoned demons, fae crossed back and forth between worlds, etc.
All that magical energy accumulated until one day, it knew itself. It experienced light, and shadow, and heat and cold, and it saw.
And the more it saw, the more it knew want. As magicians and creatures of the fae came to use the circle, they could feel something had changed. Something watched them as they practiced their arts, and they wo
Moonlight shone through the stained glass windows of the abandoned church, casting distorted images of holy figures on the rotted floorboards. In the corner away from the dusty pews and pulpit was a stool probably meant for a child's doll, and on the stool sat a tiny person. Short white hair curled around a chubby-cheeked face and big black eyes stared at the archway marking the entrance. Tinea drew her small feet onto the stool, her wings wrapped around her in a hug. It was a facade of comfort.
The colors shimmered on the ground as clouds passed across the moon. Where was the metal-handed man and his wan, sharp-toothed friend? Tinea knew t
Ah. You found the letter. I suppose now you want me to explain it to you.
Let me begin by making one thing very, very clear. I am not going to be an object of your pity. I do not want any misplaced sympathies you might have lurking in your soft little brain even now because I made myself. Victims are those who sit by and passively allow things to happen, for others to stomp them flat into something useless. I chose to be what I am, and that sets me apart from most of the patients I tend to here in the Reformation Center.
Yes, I am the "Harry" that Florence addressed. It was a joke of hers. She called me that the first time I entered
Jenny could only stare at Oliver in stunned silence for one long moment. It it looked like him. The t-shirt and jeans were the same as he'd been wearing the day before. But then that left one major question unanswered.
"Ollie, how ?"
His face split into a dreamy smile. "How am I standing up? Beats me. I guess a lot of things can happen in the Book that can't in real life. Pretty nifty huh?"
"A little more than nifty, I'd say." Jenny frowned and stepped forward. "Oliver, are you sure you're all right?"
"Better than all right. You don't look so hot though. Is something bugging you?" He tilted his head to one side, and
Oliver couldn't get to sleep that night, and it had nothing to do with lying on the floor.
It was stupid. He'd had arguments with Jenny lots of times, and the next day it was always like nothing had happened. They were siblings. Siblings said stupid things to each other, blew it off, and kept going.
Yet here he was, staring up at the ceiling thinking about how hurt she'd looked. I'm going to have to apologize, aren't I?
He pushed himself upright and looked over to where his sister lay huddled in a tablecloth. "Jenny?" he murmured. "Are you awake?"
It was completely silent.&
Villainy's momentary distraction didn't seem to faze his zombies. As soon as their quarry started moving they mobilized en masse, grinding their teeth and stretching their arms out to snatch at the air.
Jenny swallowed while they pattered along in front of the horde. "Ah ah, Rick?"
"Yes?" The man was running backward, one hand steadying Oliver on his shoulder and the other holding his gun. His eyes were narrowed and flitted back and forth, looking for an opportunity to shoot.
"What are the chances that the zombies will eat us instead of"
BLAM BLAM BLAM! Hot Scientist Girlfriend let off three shots from her gun, and three
(This may make some a little squeamish. Body modification/distortion/invasion)
Kelsy had barely had to touch her orb. Lately all the water slime was thinking about was her memories of home and of her drifting alone on that icecap like she'd been drifting through these halls for the last month. Her fingers only needed to come in contact for it to resonate and as she held it delicately in her palms it glowed brighter within.
Moments later a form burst forth from it, the air grew cold as it twisted around and over itself like a ribbon knotting itself up. Kelsy shielded her eyes for a moment, but still watched through her own form. It wa
There flows a bitter spring in depths below, unplumbed
When everything goes still you can hear it roiling
Boiling, pounding against its confines like a drum
Clawing for the surface and snarling for release
Pressure building fueling struggle, lighting fuses
But it loses sway near surface to shallow peace
Sunbeams reach through branches, try to touch the shadow
Softening grey stones with hues both warm and golden
Still cold and alone, they look a bit less sad though
Come birds, sing your songs louder! Dogs, why don't you bark?
And we'll talk with voices raised against the stillness
This illness in the ground, rumbling beneath the park
Hello hello! I read the synopsis of OFF you wrote a little while back and thought it was very good. ^^ I was wondering if you were still interested in it, because I've recently gotten into it and I'd like to discuss it with you, if you're up for it!