[identity profile] veritarossa.livejournal.com
Days passed and winter made its way to San Miguel. What started with a slight cold breeze ended up in a snow storm, covering the town in bright white snow. And even after the hail stopped and the sun rose, the snow did not melt.

Winter was welcome. It was a change not made by any of the players of the board. It had a "natural thing to happen" feeling to it, something that could not be changed. Something normal, perhaps. And after the last game, normality was as welcome as hot chocolate, warm clothes and snowfights.

Had it been already 2 weeks after the Puppeteer's game? Time seemed to fly. The innkeepers did their best to keep the spirits high, and even decorated their building with all kinds of seasonal things. Of course, the magically lit path into the forest wasn't their doing, but they said nothing of it.

The invitations were sent that very morning. It was small, and simply worded.

You are invited to a Christmas party. Follow the lights into the forest. No games, just an evening to celebrate. Kind regards, Beatrice.


Everything was ready. Music, tables, food, everything was in place. And as soon as the sun set, the guests would arrive. Some confused, some wary, but they'd arrive. And they'd find a warm and cozy hall to enjoy no matter their suspicions.

The witch smiled as she lit the last candle in the enormous Christmas tree in the hall. It was time.

Let the party begin.

Here for explanation! )
[identity profile] ofthedemonclan.livejournal.com
In the thirty fifth floor, Ratatosk waited.

In the thirty fifth floor the game would really begin. Everything in the floors below was just a distraction, a warm-up maybe, and Ratatosk wasn't really fazed by the group surviving such a simple challenge.

So he waited until everyone was on the floor, waited patiently.

He could have done this before, but starting things right on time wasn't something that performers usually did.

Explanation, kinda )
[identity profile] ofthedemonclan.livejournal.com
The Tower.

Of course he had wanted a tower for the last scene of his great game. And he had been given a wonderful one at that, because of course his patron quite liked Towers, so he got seventy floors for him to fill with whatever he wanted to.

A perfect scenario, a full moon high on the night sky... As he sat in the highest floor, just waiting, he couldn't help a chuckle. Would She be watching upon them? The Goddess of the Immortals, their only real Queen?

Ratatosk knew he would find out soon.


The entrance to the Tower wasn't guarded, and the door was open in invitation. The puppet master wanted to meet the puppets, wanted to continue his game.

He would greet them himself, of course. He just had to wait a little longer.

Short explanation lol. )
princesszero: (Holding onto to no one)
[personal profile] princesszero




OOC: Feel free to sign up for the princess' evil organization, we have cookies, dental plan and benefits.
[identity profile] wanted-to-live.livejournal.com
[So, Elliot has been... doing stuff. Avoiding going to talk with Grandma for obvious reasons. She's going to kick him so hard. Well, he's training a bit. Flaring this, flaring that. Curse, Slow, Spell, Spell, Spell. You know, the usual that Elliot does.]

At least I'm still in shape for this.

[Then starts trainging with the staff. Epic staff time! Kick, punch, flare. Okay, the flare shouldn't have happened, but it was Elliot.]

I wonder what did I miss.

:D/)

May. 6th, 2010 02:32 am
[identity profile] wanted-to-live.livejournal.com
[Dying wasn't something he enjoyed. No, really. He didn't like to die in that battle. Not when he could see Firion again.

At least, he was safe.]


Now, where the hell am I?

[Elliot sighed and started to walk around.]

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