OOC: This topic has TWO trick or treat options for you! You'll get a little drawn picture of one item, custom made by me.
I've written this intro in second person for effect, but please do reply in the third for everyone's convenience.
Thank you!
The sky is dusking and the lamplighters have brightened the capital of New Prague with orange fire. Jack-o-lanterns grin on every street corner, and leaves swirl in the chilly air that gusts across the streets, grazing at you like ghostly fingers.
You, traveler, are in the great chessman empire of Czechia on this, the most venerable day of All Hallows' Eve: a festival celebrated with great enthusiasm by this nation of once-dead people. How you got here doesn't matter--although if you don't remember, you may want to begin to worry about that... later, of course.
The cemetery wing of the palace gardens are opened to the public, a special occasion for this day. That is why you are here, isn't it? You approach the stern, black iron gates, thrown open to admit entry for all and sundry, albeit guarded by a pair of armored black Knights wielding spears, with dark rifles on their backs. You can feel their hidden eyes upon you as you pass them by, but you are simply one foreign face in a ragtag company of other visitors, some arrayed in quaint or clever costumes.
You step from rough street cobbles to the manicured pathways, lined with tombs and flowers. Willows bend low over the graves like mourners, and great orange oaks tower over the mausoleums as if they were monuments themselves, shedding their bright leaves to the wind. The paths are quaintly decorated with candles and pumpkins, deftly carved to resemble the intricate whorls of roses, chrysanthemums, carnations.
I.
Among the many branching walkways, a few corners are host to stands set up specifically for the benefit of visitors like you, distributing hot drinks and small favors: shaped candies, single stems of flowers for the graves, lightly decorated autumn gourds, and what looks at a glance to be small, plastic cats... or are they marbles?
II.
The palace towers in the distance, its spires and domes looming over the garden in somber silhouette. There is a parterre on the other side of the cemetery, and from it you can hear a loud, jovial voice booming over the quiet chatter of the crowds.
I've written this intro in second person for effect, but please do reply in the third for everyone's convenience.
Thank you!
The sky is dusking and the lamplighters have brightened the capital of New Prague with orange fire. Jack-o-lanterns grin on every street corner, and leaves swirl in the chilly air that gusts across the streets, grazing at you like ghostly fingers.
You, traveler, are in the great chessman empire of Czechia on this, the most venerable day of All Hallows' Eve: a festival celebrated with great enthusiasm by this nation of once-dead people. How you got here doesn't matter--although if you don't remember, you may want to begin to worry about that... later, of course.
The cemetery wing of the palace gardens are opened to the public, a special occasion for this day. That is why you are here, isn't it? You approach the stern, black iron gates, thrown open to admit entry for all and sundry, albeit guarded by a pair of armored black Knights wielding spears, with dark rifles on their backs. You can feel their hidden eyes upon you as you pass them by, but you are simply one foreign face in a ragtag company of other visitors, some arrayed in quaint or clever costumes.
You step from rough street cobbles to the manicured pathways, lined with tombs and flowers. Willows bend low over the graves like mourners, and great orange oaks tower over the mausoleums as if they were monuments themselves, shedding their bright leaves to the wind. The paths are quaintly decorated with candles and pumpkins, deftly carved to resemble the intricate whorls of roses, chrysanthemums, carnations.
I.
Among the many branching walkways, a few corners are host to stands set up specifically for the benefit of visitors like you, distributing hot drinks and small favors: shaped candies, single stems of flowers for the graves, lightly decorated autumn gourds, and what looks at a glance to be small, plastic cats... or are they marbles?
Click if you choose to TAKE A TREAT.
OOC: If you want to take one of any of these items, please note it in your post and I will draw one for you. Your character may choose a specific one from the list above or grab one at random.
OOC: If you want to take one of any of these items, please note it in your post and I will draw one for you. Your character may choose a specific one from the list above or grab one at random.
II.
The palace towers in the distance, its spires and domes looming over the garden in somber silhouette. There is a parterre on the other side of the cemetery, and from it you can hear a loud, jovial voice booming over the quiet chatter of the crowds.
Click if you choose to MEET THE CZAR.
Following the voice, you find its origin: a massive and rather posh looking King piece, grinning with his great golden teeth--the only 'natural' facial feature on his black, eyeless head--and gesturing grandly for the crowds to draw closer. There is a big black cauldron beside him, more than ample enough in capacity to fit a goodly sized person, its mouth spilling over with red, heavy smoke that drips and flows. You can see the occluded edges of solid shadows inside, just barely.
"Oh, gather 'round! It is not every day that you have opportunity to receive a gift from your Czar, is it? I have something for each and every one of you. Just step up, put your hand in the Cauldron of Curiosities, and take one--if you dare!"
OOC: The Czar has different items to give you from the stand. You'll get one at random.
Following the voice, you find its origin: a massive and rather posh looking King piece, grinning with his great golden teeth--the only 'natural' facial feature on his black, eyeless head--and gesturing grandly for the crowds to draw closer. There is a big black cauldron beside him, more than ample enough in capacity to fit a goodly sized person, its mouth spilling over with red, heavy smoke that drips and flows. You can see the occluded edges of solid shadows inside, just barely.
"Oh, gather 'round! It is not every day that you have opportunity to receive a gift from your Czar, is it? I have something for each and every one of you. Just step up, put your hand in the Cauldron of Curiosities, and take one--if you dare!"
OOC: The Czar has different items to give you from the stand. You'll get one at random.
Hayden approached the large cast iron gates. He didn't really know how he'd found himself here, but that didn't really matter at the moment. This place was similar yet so vastly different from his own world. He felt drawn to the huge palace. It was foreboding and all but demanded awe. A smirk crept across Haydens face. He was certainly up for whatever mischief he could find.
He followed the loud voice and was stunned to find something. . . not human. The cauldron was also intimidating. It looked about ready to swallow him whole. Maybe he should be curious as the how he'd gotten here and where exactly here was. Still, he wasn't going to wimp out. Boldly, he stuck his hand inside the frothing pot, meeting the eye of the self-proclaimed Czar..
He followed the loud voice and was stunned to find something. . . not human. The cauldron was also intimidating. It looked about ready to swallow him whole. Maybe he should be curious as the how he'd gotten here and where exactly here was. Still, he wasn't going to wimp out. Boldly, he stuck his hand inside the frothing pot, meeting the eye of the self-proclaimed Czar..
As the young man steps forward, the huge chessman's grin grows wider, and a glint strikes his monocle as he turns his head to peer at him.
"Yes, yes," he encourages warmly, "Don't be shy."
Hayden's arm disappears into the cold fog, and he grasps something that somehow feels both hard and furry at the same time.
It squeaks...?
"Well, well!" booms the Czar, "It seems you have acquired a new little friend. You'd best take good care of him, if you want to keep your toes. Haha! I'm joking. Probably..."
"Yes, yes," he encourages warmly, "Don't be shy."
Hayden's arm disappears into the cold fog, and he grasps something that somehow feels both hard and furry at the same time.
It squeaks...?
YOU GOT...
CANDY CORN JACK-O-RAT
A post-beast. Looks like a jack, moves and acts like a rat. This one is quite festive!
"Well, well!" booms the Czar, "It seems you have acquired a new little friend. You'd best take good care of him, if you want to keep your toes. Haha! I'm joking. Probably..."
Hayden crinkled his nose. What in the heck? Seemed he had an odd pet now. Looking at the creature, he tilted his head. "Guess I'll call you Todd. Let's go." He set the creature on the ground and considered the chessman. "What exactly does this thing eat? Or rather, what would happen if it accidentally got loose in that palace there?"
The newly-christened Todd wiggles its orange nose and clatters around the stones curiously, but very quickly turns around to climb up onto Hayden's shoe and, subsequently, tries to roll up his leg with tiny, needling white claws.
"Oh, he'll eat anything. Grain and sugar are his favorites. And toes," the Czar replies, his grin briefly collapsing into a serious frown, but then it returns again, even larger than before. "I would keep an eye on him, if I were you. It would be a shame indeed if he wound up a snack for one of the Vizier's cats..."
"Oh, he'll eat anything. Grain and sugar are his favorites. And toes," the Czar replies, his grin briefly collapsing into a serious frown, but then it returns again, even larger than before. "I would keep an eye on him, if I were you. It would be a shame indeed if he wound up a snack for one of the Vizier's cats..."
Todd certainly didn't seem shy at all. It definitely didn't move or act in a way that he was familiar with.
The 'and toes' caused a shiver to run down Hayden's back. He looked down into the creature's black, beady eyes and swallowed. What would happen if he brought this back to his world with him? Actually, it'd be a pretty funny prank. "Good to know," he replied after a time. "Uh, well, bye. . . I guess." He turned to walk back down the path. Such an odd fellow. He pat Todd's. . . head? and strolled back out the gates, passed the guards. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all some odd dream.
The 'and toes' caused a shiver to run down Hayden's back. He looked down into the creature's black, beady eyes and swallowed. What would happen if he brought this back to his world with him? Actually, it'd be a pretty funny prank. "Good to know," he replied after a time. "Uh, well, bye. . . I guess." He turned to walk back down the path. Such an odd fellow. He pat Todd's. . . head? and strolled back out the gates, passed the guards. He couldn't help but wonder if this was all some odd dream.
Morgan paused at the gates, her breath curling faintly in the chill air. The lamplight flickered across the steel of the guards’ spears, gleaming like tiny comets in the dusk. Beyond them, the cemetery gardens stretched in shadow and gold, quiet except for the whisper of leaves and the soft tread of visitors.
She stepped forward, the scent of wax and old roses following her. A fine mist curled low around her boots. This place felt older than memory, the kind of ground that remembered who walked upon it. She reached into her coat pocket, brushing the edge of her EMF reader before catching herself. Tonight was for curiosity, not investigation.
The carved candles and pumpkins caught her eye, glowing with floral whorls and runes. Someone here had a macabre sense of humor. She smiled faintly and followed the path toward the laughter ahead.
When she reached the parterre, the towering figure beside a fog-filled cauldron drew her attention. “That is quite a setup,” she said, stopping just short of the cauldron’s rim. “You do not happen to offer safety disclaimers before people go reaching into boiling fog, do you?”
She stepped forward, the scent of wax and old roses following her. A fine mist curled low around her boots. This place felt older than memory, the kind of ground that remembered who walked upon it. She reached into her coat pocket, brushing the edge of her EMF reader before catching herself. Tonight was for curiosity, not investigation.
The carved candles and pumpkins caught her eye, glowing with floral whorls and runes. Someone here had a macabre sense of humor. She smiled faintly and followed the path toward the laughter ahead.
When she reached the parterre, the towering figure beside a fog-filled cauldron drew her attention. “That is quite a setup,” she said, stopping just short of the cauldron’s rim. “You do not happen to offer safety disclaimers before people go reaching into boiling fog, do you?”
@ Hayden
"Goodbye!" the Czar beams, wiggling his fingers in a farewell as Hayden takes his leave.
Todd makes a soft squeak, boggling his weird little eyes with a twitch of his whiskers. The creature is clearly pleased by the attention--at least he seems to be sort of domesticated...?
If it is a dream, it is quite a robust one: as Hayden returns to the gates, fallen leaves crunch underfoot, the air is awash with the scent of treats and funerary incense, the wind is cold and the lamplight is warm. Todd's little head is warm, too, and velvety, like felt on the bottom of a game piece.
Like an indistinct and hazy memory, this place might haunt Hayden with its surreal solidity long after he leaves it, even if he forgets he'd ever seen it.
@ Morgan
The Czar has already returned his attention to the rest of the milling crowds by the time Hayden has started walking away. A few other people, mostly chessmen, boldly step forward to seize objects from the King piece's ominous cauldron, most of them finding treats. A couple of them meet tricks as well, reeling backwards in surprise as ghastly grins emerge suddenly from the fog, laughing in echoing voices.
The Czar laughs, too, and points for good measure. "HAH! Every time! Oh, you should have seen the look on your--Oh! Why, hello." The giant chessman composes himself quite rapidly, returning to his stately poise as he leans to peer down at the red-haired woman with what is probably supposed to be a friendly smile. "Disclaimers? Whyever for? I would never harm my subjects during such festivities! Ehh, permanently, anyway. Oh, why don't you give it a try? Come, now, I know you're curious..."
Morgan’s brow lifted slightly, her lips curving into something between amusement and disbelief. “‘Permanently,’ you say. Somehow that does not inspire the confidence you might think it does.”
Still, she stepped closer, the mist licking around her boots as she studied the cauldron. The fog within shifted like living silk, hiding whatever waited beneath. “I have learned that curiosity is usually what gets people into trouble,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “But it also tends to make the better stories.”
With a quiet breath, she reached into the vapor, her voice soft with dry humor. “If I lose a hand, I expect hazard pay.”
The faintest smile ghosted her lips as her fingers disappeared into the swirling mist.
Still, she stepped closer, the mist licking around her boots as she studied the cauldron. The fog within shifted like living silk, hiding whatever waited beneath. “I have learned that curiosity is usually what gets people into trouble,” she murmured, glancing up at him. “But it also tends to make the better stories.”
With a quiet breath, she reached into the vapor, her voice soft with dry humor. “If I lose a hand, I expect hazard pay.”
The faintest smile ghosted her lips as her fingers disappeared into the swirling mist.
"Oh, my dear, you wound me," the Czar replies, still grinning as he lays a huge, disembodied hand across his broad chest as if she had struck him there.
But approach she does all the same, parting the cold red fog and reaching into the belly of it. The Czar watches most attentively, intrigued to see how this cool, aloof woman will respond to the cauldron--or rather, perhaps, how it will respond to her.
Her hand alights upon something round... and... soft...? Or is it hard and smooth, like glass?
"How do you like that? You've been chosen by one of my absolute favorites," the Czar declares, grandly spreading his 'arms' with a brilliant smile. "And you didn't even have to lose a hand for it! Hoho! If her affinity for my wife is anything to go by, I think she likes a smart, calculating woman--and I mean that with all due respect. Please do treat her well."
But approach she does all the same, parting the cold red fog and reaching into the belly of it. The Czar watches most attentively, intrigued to see how this cool, aloof woman will respond to the cauldron--or rather, perhaps, how it will respond to her.
Her hand alights upon something round... and... soft...? Or is it hard and smooth, like glass?
YOU GOT...
The rotund creature seems to be capable of, at any moment, altering its consistency to resemble putty or something hard and bristly--a bit like a regular cat, come to think of it.
BATTY MARBLE CAT
A post-beast. It's about the size of a normal cat, albeit quite round. This one has bat wings and long ears.
The rotund creature seems to be capable of, at any moment, altering its consistency to resemble putty or something hard and bristly--a bit like a regular cat, come to think of it.
"How do you like that? You've been chosen by one of my absolute favorites," the Czar declares, grandly spreading his 'arms' with a brilliant smile. "And you didn't even have to lose a hand for it! Hoho! If her affinity for my wife is anything to go by, I think she likes a smart, calculating woman--and I mean that with all due respect. Please do treat her well."
Her fingers brushed something warm and impossibly soft. A startled laugh slipped from her as the creature rose from the fog, round and winged, blinking up at her with luminous eyes. “Well,” she murmured, lifting the Batty Marble Cat with careful hands, “you are certainly not regulation issue.”
The little thing purred, if the deep, vibrating sound could be called that, and its wings gave an experimental flutter. Morgan looked up at the Czar, one brow arching. “A favorite, you say? Then I shall take that as an honor.”
She offered him a small, knowing smile, half challenge and half gratitude. “I will treat her well. And if she starts biting through walls or drinking candle wax, I will send you the bill.”
With that, she turned, the lanternlight catching the dark fall of her coat as she stepped back into the path. The mist closed around her in soft folds, her voice drifting faintly over her shoulder. “Goodnight, your majesty. Try not to lose any more subjects to curiosity.”
The fog swallowed her soon after, leaving only the echo of her bootsteps and the faint flutter of wings fading into the night.
The little thing purred, if the deep, vibrating sound could be called that, and its wings gave an experimental flutter. Morgan looked up at the Czar, one brow arching. “A favorite, you say? Then I shall take that as an honor.”
She offered him a small, knowing smile, half challenge and half gratitude. “I will treat her well. And if she starts biting through walls or drinking candle wax, I will send you the bill.”
With that, she turned, the lanternlight catching the dark fall of her coat as she stepped back into the path. The mist closed around her in soft folds, her voice drifting faintly over her shoulder. “Goodnight, your majesty. Try not to lose any more subjects to curiosity.”
The fog swallowed her soon after, leaving only the echo of her bootsteps and the faint flutter of wings fading into the night.
The boy was quiet as he wandered through the gates and among the walkways, his head lowered, casting sidelong glances towards every passerby. More than the people, though, he was watching the scenery; it was quite breathtaking and he had never seen anything quite like it. He caught a few of the most vibrantly autumn-hued leaves and carried them with him... A choice made on a whim, really. They were pretty. He wanted something to hold onto... To make this day real.
His expression was contemplative in a way that could be mistaken for melancholy, but he was actually in a relatively good mood, although weary and subdued. Still, the crisp autumn air and the activity around him did wonders for his frayed mind. He felt the thrum of excitement at being part of something, yet was content to be largely solitary.
His costume was elaborate, cloth and feathers rendering his appearance as that of some type of crow... person... He had worked hard on it. And maybe a little magic went into its creation... Magic had certainly been responsible for his arrival at this place; it was far from home, but he was sure he could leave when he was ready. Such was the power of the-
Oh! He spotted the little stands which handed out treats and trinkets. Whatever those little plastic cat things were, the boy was immediately drawn to them and accepted one with an outstretched hand and a slightly stilted "Please." and "Thank you." Because he was a bit awkward when it came to being polite, but he certainly had no intentions of being rude.
His expression was contemplative in a way that could be mistaken for melancholy, but he was actually in a relatively good mood, although weary and subdued. Still, the crisp autumn air and the activity around him did wonders for his frayed mind. He felt the thrum of excitement at being part of something, yet was content to be largely solitary.
His costume was elaborate, cloth and feathers rendering his appearance as that of some type of crow... person... He had worked hard on it. And maybe a little magic went into its creation... Magic had certainly been responsible for his arrival at this place; it was far from home, but he was sure he could leave when he was ready. Such was the power of the-
Oh! He spotted the little stands which handed out treats and trinkets. Whatever those little plastic cat things were, the boy was immediately drawn to them and accepted one with an outstretched hand and a slightly stilted "Please." and "Thank you." Because he was a bit awkward when it came to being polite, but he certainly had no intentions of being rude.
@ Morgan
"Drinking candle wax? Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Now, blood," the Czar suggests ominously, leaving the word to hang in the air for just a moment too long, "that may be a different matter." He tips his head ever so briefly, and his monocle flashes at her in the lamplight, suggesting an eyeless wink. "Do take care, madame."
@ Blight
Despite the relative popularity of the cemetery today, it is still large and solemn, and peace comes easy in a place like that. Many of the passers-by spare intrigued glances for the young pale-haired gentleman, openly admiring the costume that had dedicatedly transformed him into an upright bird-man, shaggy and dark as an omen amid the elongating shadows.
The stand he stops at is being operated by a lanky Pawn with a full face of makeup that makes his round, mouthless head look like a jack-o-lantern. When Blight approaches, he smiles with his tired eyes and holds out a bag for the lad to reach into. Perhaps detecting the faint quiver of unfamiliarity in that 'please,' the chessman elaborates, "Got toy marble cats. The kids are really into collecting them lately."
Blight's hand touches a bunch of round, rubber objects, but his fingers finally grasp around one in particular that feels a little longer and a little softer than the rest...
YOU GOT...
LIMITED EDITION GLOW-IN-THE-DARK JIN
A very stretchy plastic toy of some kind of toothy mongoose thing. The tag says 'JINAN - DJINN OF THE COURT (GLOW IN THE DARK.)' It squeaks if you squeeze it. This one looks quite different from the other cat toys--you get the impression it might be pretty rare!
"Wow, that's a pretty nice one," the Pawn remarks, setting the bag back down behind the counter. "First one in that color I've seen, actually."
He smiled down at the little toy in his hand. Perhaps he should be embarrassed; these were for children, and he was not a child. (Well, he technically was, but he liked to think he was rather mature. This was arguable at best, but he thought it regardless.)
But, mature or not, the rubbery creature made him smile, and his heart felt inexplicably warm and fuzzy. He had never had anything quite like this before... It was strange, sort of cute in its own way, and it served no apparent purpose... Perfect. He had been raised to be prim and proper; frivolous interests were always frowned upon by his parents. He was certain they would consider this thing frivolous, if they ever saw it... He was going to treasure it.
"...Thank you. ...I like cats." He told the (sort of odd-looking, but oh well, the makeup was pretty cool) attendant who had given him the trinket. As if he needed to explain himself. He was not exactly sure the thing he held was a cat, actually, but that didn't matter because he liked it anyway. This particular one even seemed rare... What a stroke of luck! He gave it a tentative squeeze to see if it really did squeak, and let a silly grin flicker across his face when it did. ...He could allow himself to be a little childish, as a treat.
But, mature or not, the rubbery creature made him smile, and his heart felt inexplicably warm and fuzzy. He had never had anything quite like this before... It was strange, sort of cute in its own way, and it served no apparent purpose... Perfect. He had been raised to be prim and proper; frivolous interests were always frowned upon by his parents. He was certain they would consider this thing frivolous, if they ever saw it... He was going to treasure it.
"...Thank you. ...I like cats." He told the (sort of odd-looking, but oh well, the makeup was pretty cool) attendant who had given him the trinket. As if he needed to explain himself. He was not exactly sure the thing he held was a cat, actually, but that didn't matter because he liked it anyway. This particular one even seemed rare... What a stroke of luck! He gave it a tentative squeeze to see if it really did squeak, and let a silly grin flicker across his face when it did. ...He could allow himself to be a little childish, as a treat.
"Well, you're in good company," the Pawn replies with a smile in his voice, leaning on the counter. Like all the chessmen, he hasn't got any visible arms, but where his forearm would probably be if he did is a long gauntlet and glove painted up with bones. "The imperial family loves cats. Stick around long enough and you might see a few of them skittering around out here. Most of them are friendly. That thing, though," he nods at the toy, "that's supposed to be a festive recolor of one of the court djinn. Not quite a cat... a lot more tricksy."
The little toy djinn certainly does squeak, its toothy grin blowing up comically under the pressure.
The little toy djinn certainly does squeak, its toothy grin blowing up comically under the pressure.
The mention of real cats made his face brighten again. Coming here really was a wonderful idea, it seemed.
"I'll have to keep an eye out, then." He mused, eyes glimmering with thinly veiled excitement. He was more than a little eager to encounter a friendly feline. He cast another glance at the toy in his hand, nodding subtly in acknowledgement of the explanation given. Interesting... He'd remember that. He clutched it a little tighter for just a moment, as if fearing it might be snatched away, before slipping it securely into a pocket somewhere on his outfit.
He looked back up at the Pawn, unsure if he should say anything else, or simply take his leave.
"I'll have to keep an eye out, then." He mused, eyes glimmering with thinly veiled excitement. He was more than a little eager to encounter a friendly feline. He cast another glance at the toy in his hand, nodding subtly in acknowledgement of the explanation given. Interesting... He'd remember that. He clutched it a little tighter for just a moment, as if fearing it might be snatched away, before slipping it securely into a pocket somewhere on his outfit.
He looked back up at the Pawn, unsure if he should say anything else, or simply take his leave.
The Pawn watches him for a little while, his face inscrutable save for the relaxed smile in his eyes.
"If you're not sure what else to do here, you could always go and see the Czar. You might get an actual cat... well, post-cat, anyway. He's giving out his own treats over there," the attendant points down a well-lit pathway. "You'll probably hear him before you see him. Cool costume, by the way."
"If you're not sure what else to do here, you could always go and see the Czar. You might get an actual cat... well, post-cat, anyway. He's giving out his own treats over there," the attendant points down a well-lit pathway. "You'll probably hear him before you see him. Cool costume, by the way."
Edgar is not one unaccustomed to great, dark, European architecture; the palace was all at once nostalgic and comforting to him, in a strange way. He'd grown up in places such as this, borne by a place not unlike this one. Crawled and toddled across marble floors and plush rugs and eventually ran through narrow streets and twisting alleyways older than everyone he'd ever known, just like these. The scent of cold kissed every surface and he could smell the stone, he could feel the chill emanating from it. He'd blown in somehow, maybe even perhaps on the wind that danced through the streets alongside his much slower and less lively gait, and found his three-legged way across the cobblestoned streets to stand before these gates.
The hard metal end of his cane had clicked across the stones in a sharp but not unpleasant way. It accented every step of his approach until it abruptly ceased, and he stood before the gates far larger than himself. He looked at the Knights, who looked at him, assessing. Edgar was a man of little height, but much visual interest; he was swathed in clean, cream-colored gauze that hugged every inch of possibly visible skin, and seemingly beneath his clothing as well. It nearly begged one to wonder, why was he taking such a precaution? Was he truly so disfigured? And over the top of all of that bandaging, still, was clothing. In this chilly and biting weather with winds that could feel like glass on the bare skin, the Nothingman seemed to be amply protected in his hugging greatcoat, thick woolen scarf, tweed suit, and even the crimson fez plopped on top of his head, not unlike a cherry. Glasses glinting smoothly in the darkling light, he seems to pass judgment.
The gate opened slowly under his gloved hand, creaking softly, not so differently than a whimper. Edgar heard voices, murmuring and laughter, could see through the pleasant cemetery that there were people gathered for something. He smelled spice and sweet and other warm things, and he felt his stomach rumble. When had he last eaten? He couldn't remember...
The bandaged doctor entered the cemetery wing with a polite nod to its guards and made his way along the path, head twisting every which way, round and pale like the ball of a pawn. The willows, bent mournfully, swished in the breeze and left him with a strangeness of spirit. This all felt very surreal, familiar and unfamiliar all the same. Some things here were very like where he came from, and some were very much not. The cemetery felt to him as all cemeteries did, a place very somber and worthy of respect, and as was his typical practice he gave good tidings to everyone who lay within, beneath him.
Edgar was one to carve pumpkins and these, they were to his taste. Very lovely. He admired them as he clicked by, feeling oddly... not out of place, here, amongst people mixed and matched in costume and plainclothes, as he entered the crowd and approached the first booth. Edgar stood idly behind Blight in line, silent and still, the bandages and his posture displaying nothing but patience and observance. A bit further up the path however, he caught sight of the Czar, and his attention was immediately and very firmly held; who was that?
The hard metal end of his cane had clicked across the stones in a sharp but not unpleasant way. It accented every step of his approach until it abruptly ceased, and he stood before the gates far larger than himself. He looked at the Knights, who looked at him, assessing. Edgar was a man of little height, but much visual interest; he was swathed in clean, cream-colored gauze that hugged every inch of possibly visible skin, and seemingly beneath his clothing as well. It nearly begged one to wonder, why was he taking such a precaution? Was he truly so disfigured? And over the top of all of that bandaging, still, was clothing. In this chilly and biting weather with winds that could feel like glass on the bare skin, the Nothingman seemed to be amply protected in his hugging greatcoat, thick woolen scarf, tweed suit, and even the crimson fez plopped on top of his head, not unlike a cherry. Glasses glinting smoothly in the darkling light, he seems to pass judgment.
The gate opened slowly under his gloved hand, creaking softly, not so differently than a whimper. Edgar heard voices, murmuring and laughter, could see through the pleasant cemetery that there were people gathered for something. He smelled spice and sweet and other warm things, and he felt his stomach rumble. When had he last eaten? He couldn't remember...
The bandaged doctor entered the cemetery wing with a polite nod to its guards and made his way along the path, head twisting every which way, round and pale like the ball of a pawn. The willows, bent mournfully, swished in the breeze and left him with a strangeness of spirit. This all felt very surreal, familiar and unfamiliar all the same. Some things here were very like where he came from, and some were very much not. The cemetery felt to him as all cemeteries did, a place very somber and worthy of respect, and as was his typical practice he gave good tidings to everyone who lay within, beneath him.
Edgar was one to carve pumpkins and these, they were to his taste. Very lovely. He admired them as he clicked by, feeling oddly... not out of place, here, amongst people mixed and matched in costume and plainclothes, as he entered the crowd and approached the first booth. Edgar stood idly behind Blight in line, silent and still, the bandages and his posture displaying nothing but patience and observance. A bit further up the path however, he caught sight of the Czar, and his attention was immediately and very firmly held; who was that?
A small, evidently child, wandered lost amongst cobble and dirt beneath the gaze of the dark clouded sky trying to figure out where he was within the labyrinth of pumpkins, ghouls and spooks meant to scare folks away.
However, he didn't looked scared at all. Quite frankly, even if pondering wherever he is, he seemed to enjoy in mirth the thrill of his surroundings, to no ones surprise however as it is Halloween after all. He sported what looks to be many pairs of wings, alongside eyes with limp pupils, a costume most likely put together for the occasion, however what he used for said costume looks out of the ordinary in standards of realism, making it hard to tell whether it be real or not from the distance that he is.
Eventually the kid stumbles upon the stand of tricks and treats, his main eyes lighting up in excitement with another chance to grab a gift before the night runs over, wandering over to the Czar with a bright smile and slight awe to the apparel of the new being in front of him. He comes packaged with zero understanding of what might be happening around him, but still tends to be joyous no matter the cause. "Hello!" He says in an unreasonably high pitched voice, both soothing yet one to be annoying when ueed through long conversation.
He notices the fog waterfalling from the stand and the large cauldron he can just barely reach his hand into, curious as to what might behold within.
However, he didn't looked scared at all. Quite frankly, even if pondering wherever he is, he seemed to enjoy in mirth the thrill of his surroundings, to no ones surprise however as it is Halloween after all. He sported what looks to be many pairs of wings, alongside eyes with limp pupils, a costume most likely put together for the occasion, however what he used for said costume looks out of the ordinary in standards of realism, making it hard to tell whether it be real or not from the distance that he is.
Eventually the kid stumbles upon the stand of tricks and treats, his main eyes lighting up in excitement with another chance to grab a gift before the night runs over, wandering over to the Czar with a bright smile and slight awe to the apparel of the new being in front of him. He comes packaged with zero understanding of what might be happening around him, but still tends to be joyous no matter the cause. "Hello!" He says in an unreasonably high pitched voice, both soothing yet one to be annoying when ueed through long conversation.
He notices the fog waterfalling from the stand and the large cauldron he can just barely reach his hand into, curious as to what might behold within.
The boy's head tilted curiously to one side, eyes tracking where the Pawn had pointed. He had seen several people walk down that path, and he had heard the booming voice, too. It all seemed a little daunting... But intriguing, as well. He supposed he might as well go and check it out.
"I'll head that way, then." He nodded at the Pawn. "...Ah, and... Thank you." He gave his costume's arm-wing appendages a little flap, feathers rustling gently. He grinned proudly. He was quite pleased with his costume, and even more so that others seemed to like it, too. As he turned away from the stand, he called over his shoulder: "I hope that you have a good night." And at the same time, he spotted the bandaged figure and the many-winged one, who seemed also to be headed for the Czar. He nodded politely to both as he meandered his way over to follow.
...That cauldron looked... Intense. He opted to hang back a little, watching the others have their turns first, to wait and observe, before reaching in himself. His whole being buzzed with magic and anticipation.
((I wasn't sure if it was okay for characters to do both of the listed options. Also I might as well say now that I really like this thread; great work!))
"I'll head that way, then." He nodded at the Pawn. "...Ah, and... Thank you." He gave his costume's arm-wing appendages a little flap, feathers rustling gently. He grinned proudly. He was quite pleased with his costume, and even more so that others seemed to like it, too. As he turned away from the stand, he called over his shoulder: "I hope that you have a good night." And at the same time, he spotted the bandaged figure and the many-winged one, who seemed also to be headed for the Czar. He nodded politely to both as he meandered his way over to follow.
...That cauldron looked... Intense. He opted to hang back a little, watching the others have their turns first, to wait and observe, before reaching in himself. His whole being buzzed with magic and anticipation.
((I wasn't sure if it was okay for characters to do both of the listed options. Also I might as well say now that I really like this thread; great work!))
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