![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
may 27th, night
Jan. 27th, 2015 10:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unabatedlySomething's going on here by the lake.
[An understatement, to be certain, considering the events that transpired at the seance.]
I can't get close enough to get a clear idea but... It was just like in that room, with the spirit and the board. Something isn't right. I'm trying to get close enough to the moors to see what's out here.
[The King in Yellow. Prepare your allegiance. It could very well be connected to the play and she doesn't doubt it. But Ambrose had mentioned the lake. She has to know.]
It smells out here just like the other night. Minerals... Sulfur? [She sighs.] There has to be something here. I just can't see it.
[But then her voice quickly goes silent for several moments, as if she's stopped broadcasting entirely. But then, there's a quiet thought: Someone's here. Over there. And whoever is there, whatever is there, is enough to apparently stop her from thinking or broadcasting, much less concentrating on what might be going on.]
Oh, Maker. What is--
[And that thought is interrupted by a single, almost deafening, shout from Neria, one of utter panic and terror, and then there is truly silence and nothing else.
( cut for horror imagery )
[An understatement, to be certain, considering the events that transpired at the seance.]
I can't get close enough to get a clear idea but... It was just like in that room, with the spirit and the board. Something isn't right. I'm trying to get close enough to the moors to see what's out here.
[The King in Yellow. Prepare your allegiance. It could very well be connected to the play and she doesn't doubt it. But Ambrose had mentioned the lake. She has to know.]
It smells out here just like the other night. Minerals... Sulfur? [She sighs.] There has to be something here. I just can't see it.
[But then her voice quickly goes silent for several moments, as if she's stopped broadcasting entirely. But then, there's a quiet thought: Someone's here. Over there. And whoever is there, whatever is there, is enough to apparently stop her from thinking or broadcasting, much less concentrating on what might be going on.]
Oh, Maker. What is--
[And that thought is interrupted by a single, almost deafening, shout from Neria, one of utter panic and terror, and then there is truly silence and nothing else.
( cut for horror imagery )
