Delusional
I believe I can cure it all for you, dear
Coax or trick or drive or
drag the demons from you
Make it right for you sleeping beauty
- A Perfect Circle
Everett Ogden?s Room
The Day After This One
The number twenty had served as a shield for the night prior, with the Ancient curled about her sleeping figure, the Gunslinger armed to the teeth and aimed at the window, and the dear Youth, to whom the room belonged, brushing sleep from his eyes and the ruffles from his clothing, only happy to receive the onslaught of company at such a monstrous hour. Turn to the following day, or night rather. Viki still lay appropriately in place, multicolored layers mingling with the grays of the Inn's d?cor, slumbering as if her mind were at rest and not at odds with reality. No sign of the Angel, nor the Lawyer, and perhaps they were content in leaving her alone. After all, she was well protected - twenty-odd people gathered downstairs, most wielding swords and laser-blasters, and Mish'Cael had gotten pieces of her attacker in his flight. He wouldn't be back. Not that one, to say the least.
?Ye know Viki.?
?Ahh.. the delightfully colorful little woman.. a gifted seer she is..?
Her ears, they rang, yet the girl did not stir. Everett's room was quite comfortable, with its many books singing from their spines, stories springing off pages and weaving into her dreams.
?Stay away from the Seer!?
?Ahh.. is that what ye want? But she is mine........?
?She is not yours.?
?I donnae take kindly to being told what to do with the things I possess.. I find it..... rude....?
The Black Wizard raged his own war downstairs, but still, she slept. Summer rains and sweet wines wafted through the crack in the door. Just one story up, all swaddled in covers that were not her own, her scent marking them nonetheless, happily oblivious to chaos' reigning beneath. She found safety in this sanctuary. Sanctuary was a room with a bookworm's view.
Time lapsed. With a murmur of sound, invisible to ears south of room twenty, the seer finally stirred. Perhaps it was the commotion, though the girl would gladly trade one fiend for another, all things being equal and the measures of evil accurate.
Name-Like-Bells, the Black Wizard, or Snakeskin?
What day was it? Monday? Tuesday? Wednesday? Noonday? She yawned, then turned over on the foreign mattress, pressing her face to the pillow. Lathered in lullabies, a merry tide of moonlight spilling through the lone window, the seer curled into her comfort zone, somewhere in the space between pillow and wall. Heat had a tendency to rise, but the wards within blocked the unnatural climate changes, facilitated by the Black Wizard and his hellfire.
I believe I can cure it all for you, dear
Coax or trick or drive or
drag the demons from you
Make it right for you sleeping beauty
- A Perfect Circle
Everett Ogden?s Room
The Day After This One
The number twenty had served as a shield for the night prior, with the Ancient curled about her sleeping figure, the Gunslinger armed to the teeth and aimed at the window, and the dear Youth, to whom the room belonged, brushing sleep from his eyes and the ruffles from his clothing, only happy to receive the onslaught of company at such a monstrous hour. Turn to the following day, or night rather. Viki still lay appropriately in place, multicolored layers mingling with the grays of the Inn's d?cor, slumbering as if her mind were at rest and not at odds with reality. No sign of the Angel, nor the Lawyer, and perhaps they were content in leaving her alone. After all, she was well protected - twenty-odd people gathered downstairs, most wielding swords and laser-blasters, and Mish'Cael had gotten pieces of her attacker in his flight. He wouldn't be back. Not that one, to say the least.
?Ye know Viki.?
?Ahh.. the delightfully colorful little woman.. a gifted seer she is..?
Her ears, they rang, yet the girl did not stir. Everett's room was quite comfortable, with its many books singing from their spines, stories springing off pages and weaving into her dreams.
?Stay away from the Seer!?
?Ahh.. is that what ye want? But she is mine........?
?She is not yours.?
?I donnae take kindly to being told what to do with the things I possess.. I find it..... rude....?
The Black Wizard raged his own war downstairs, but still, she slept. Summer rains and sweet wines wafted through the crack in the door. Just one story up, all swaddled in covers that were not her own, her scent marking them nonetheless, happily oblivious to chaos' reigning beneath. She found safety in this sanctuary. Sanctuary was a room with a bookworm's view.
Time lapsed. With a murmur of sound, invisible to ears south of room twenty, the seer finally stirred. Perhaps it was the commotion, though the girl would gladly trade one fiend for another, all things being equal and the measures of evil accurate.
Name-Like-Bells, the Black Wizard, or Snakeskin?
What day was it? Monday? Tuesday? Wednesday? Noonday? She yawned, then turned over on the foreign mattress, pressing her face to the pillow. Lathered in lullabies, a merry tide of moonlight spilling through the lone window, the seer curled into her comfort zone, somewhere in the space between pillow and wall. Heat had a tendency to rise, but the wards within blocked the unnatural climate changes, facilitated by the Black Wizard and his hellfire.