[heart game]

[dormancy]

There is a click, a soft urging, almost whispered too soft to hear, but you can sense that you are being beckoned somewhere, lead to an elaborate open door with wood panels and great curls of gold leaf. You cannot see what is beyond the door, but it smells sour and sharp. Before you can turn over the thought of should you or shouldn't you, if you are the kind, there is a quiet push at your back and through the door you go . . .

Join #supersafe, because I like being misleading. When in doubt, use this for flower meanings if you character is the type . . .

Comments

[dramatispersonae]

There are a few grooves that will have some ink left in them, a few stubborn streaks, too, but it is much better than before. The ink spills over the side, though.

[playfreebird]

[will try to clean this as well!]

[dramatispersonae]

When you look under the table in search of more ink to permanently stain your sleeves with, you can see a few more pawns rolling under the floor, a curl of silver peeking out from underneath a paper . . .

[playfreebird]

[picks it all up carefully—the pawns the paper and the silver]

[dramatispersonae]

There are more random notes that can't be pieced together without the rest if at all. It seems someone was in a fine fit when they tore into those books.

The scissors look imposing, especially with the dark stain of blood upon them. The length of the blade seems too long, the point too sharp, and the flourishes of silver all along the handle are exquisite. However, upon closer look, it seems the blades have rusted in a few spots. It seems these haven't been handled in some time.

The four pawns are heavier than they would appear and feel like they are made from some kind of stone. (Alabaster, two in black, two in white, for those with an eye for it.) They seem lost without a board, though . . .

[playfreebird]

[picks them up and places them on the table, and the scissors. Still keeping the notes.

Picks up the jewelry box with the flowers]

[dramatispersonae]

Inside the box, there are countless flowers. You may have to dig to see them all as there are layers upon layers of them. On top, a solitary ball of a purple flower sits on a bed of red and white blooms. They all seem to be alive and well, though a few of the red are turning colors and giving off a pungent odor.

[playfreebird]

[oooh

can the ones that are turning off be removed without wrecking the others?]

[dramatispersonae]

You can! As you carefully pick the flowers out, you can see there is another layer. However, more distracting is the sensation that you would rather be left well enough alone and are agitated like you were caught in the middle of a, hm, temper tantrum?

[playfreebird]

[:T

checks the layer underneath carefully]

[dramatispersonae]

When you dig deeper, with each dig feeling almost like pushing your hand into thorns though you cannot feel them with your skin, only your mind, you uncover a new layer of colorful flowers. There is a full bed of fibrous green fronds with distinctive white blooms and white bell-shaped flowers placed on top of them. The latter seem to be rotting, and a few petals give away if you touch them.

[playfreebird]

[hesitates, though it's not the feeling of thorns itself that makes him pause

on the one hand, that doesn't seem healthy

on the other, it doesn't seem to want me playing with it]

[dramatispersonae]

What could this box be, one wonders . . .

[playfreebird]

[n-no, that's not so obscure

...

sighs, and tries to remove the worst of the rot]

[dramatispersonae]

Yet another layer looms, but the flowers remain distracting. These feel much sweeter, cooler, somehow. Even if all is amiss, there will be some good; there is some good.

[playfreebird]

[sighs, just...sighs.

taking the worst but not trying to take everything. When that's done, he replaces the box on the table, as neatly as he can]

[dramatispersonae]

Open as it was?

[playfreebird]

[yes, open

heading for the bookshelf]

[dramatispersonae]

There are many titles and colors of books. Even if many are missing, there are still quite a few . . .

[playfreebird]

[reading the titles!]

[dramatispersonae]

Obsidian, Chariot, Lambda, Nunnally, Elliot, Leo, Lelouch, Mouse, Erika, Cal, Itachi, Jaina, Reaper, Winchester, Greyling, Neji, Lambda, Lloyd, Mithos, Flynn, Estelle, Sasuke, Raven, Maleficient, Beauty, Three, Cheshire, Dream, Goldie, Odile, Masked Lady, Kiriko, Jabberwock, Mother, Chance, Guinevere, Dorian, Alice, Snow Queen, Mad Hatter, Mr. Right, Gerda, Dormouse, Persephone, Kitsune, Kyouko, Misato, Sharon, Mad Hatter . . .

[playfreebird]

[...has to check the Neji book, you know that]

[dramatispersonae]

Astute with rather sharp senses, finally some reason to this team . . .

He isn't fond of emotions or outbursts, how cute. Still, he is as weak to Obsidian as anyone; he isn't heartless, then.

[playfreebird]

[reshelves it... that seems okay

and hesitates to pry more.

leaves the scraps of paper by the books]

[dramatispersonae]

You are a very good boy, Neji. Well then, what shall you do now . . . ?