WEEK 4

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 4


[It is late in the afternoon when the Titled finally wake up from their long, vivid sleep. What day is it? Maybe it doesn't matter.

They weren't awake when it happened, but the final set of doors have opened. The Intercessor hasn't emerged from their room. There is no sign of the grumpy old man. And, the Titled may notice that nothing has been cleaned up - including the remains of those who prompted the Investigation - since they went into the Debate Hall. No new food has been supplied in the Kitchen, either.

The only replenishing food supply is in the Conservatex - who knows when those'll get ripped out from the ground out of spite, though. Their captors certainly showed themselves to not be above petty revenge, unfortunately.

So many questions now swirl. Is the old man hiding? Is the Intercessor ok? What the hell happened with the dragon? What about that other group which the Titled have come to realize exist? What did their captors have planned? And...really, what the hell else is going to happen now?

Whatever it is, it's not going to be good.

So get ready, Titled.

There are nine (but perhaps only eight?...) strangers in this place.]

Comments

[lightnen]

[ A hole in the soul where light should sit? The phrase stuck with him, resonating to a similarity in how he saw things on his side as well. It felt like there was a light missing from himself too, but he wasn't sure who he was really forgetting that could fill that spot. ]

Sorry. I... didn't mean to bring up something painful.

[ A soft chuckle escaped him and he nodded shortly, a light smile on his face. ]

Me too. It was really nice to know my dad supports me and what I want to do.

[bythewaves]

[ Maglor smiles at him and shakes his head ]

It is well - my life has many griefs in it, and that not the least. I grieve more that I cannot remember her, than anything else.

Fathers should. [ He ruffles Killua's hair ] Even when they don't understand.