The Asylum

[Artina Heartflash]

"Braaavoooo," applauded Artina for their responses. "By the way, Flare how did your guitar heal so quickly after the first act of violence on your brother? I recall it was quite a battered axe a few days ago."

She looked about her at the red splatterings Dramatic had thrown at her.
"Ehm...who's gonna clean up this blood circle about me?"

 

[Dramaticflare]

"As I said, the guitar and I are one. When I reform after dying, my guitar reforms with me." Flare responded coolly. He idly tuned and strummed the guitar, while Dramatic simply shrugged.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Artina observed the crimson spots about her. "These twelve roses have not dried up yet." She sniffed, her nose itching. "They still smell hellish too. I am glad I opened a window before I let loose that rap stink of mine. Lack of ventilation can be fatal."

She knelt and, with some twine of angel hair, carefully picked up the wet clots like blossoms. Making a garland with the stands and petals, she approached Dramatic and flung it back at him with a smile. "Now you shall not be attacked by any angry succubi who may cross your path, so long as you wear the power of the Lanyard." She shrugged. "Of course it may be altered to a belt or something which appeals more to your desire."

She glanced over her shoulder to see Tio still standing in front of the snowy screen. The bunnies were ice skating now, their little tails fluffy in the breeze as their long ears were perky. One of the blonde bunnies glided by the screen and Artina noticed her ears were just flapping lame. "Flopsy is losing her blade," the artist said aloud. "Back up, Tio, lest she slide through the screen and land in your face."

Tio did not speak . "His lolling tongue must be frozen to the snow screen," Artina worried aloud.

She dragged her bare feet over the stone tiles as she headed toward Tio. Something stuck to the sole of her foot though. She looked down and lifted her heel, pulling red sticky strands attached to it. "Oh Gush. There is a thirteenth rose and I just stepped in it."

In a heartbeat, the thin trails stuck to her heel became tendons of a hand. In a flash, the fullness of a manly creature was beneath her heel, his hands clutching to his chest the entirity of her foot.

"DAYUM...a demon that looks like paranormal investigator Zak Bagans!" squealed Artina.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"Well I shouldn't be surprised that an Incubus would take on the appearance of a hunk to do his dirty deeds. But to pose as a paranormal investigator...what a flip!" spurted Artina in amazement. "What--a--freakin--FLLL---"

The final word was thrown out of her mouth unfinished. She couldn't catch her breath as she whirled heels over head in a backward flip.

The hunk who had thrown her heel off his chest sat up as her back hit the floor. "Good thing I have the throw cushions scattered for company," she gasped, a bit in shock. "The heart shaped one is the softest to land on." She drew the saving pillow from behind her and flung it at Zak.

He dodged the cushion with a sharp lean to the side. "Lady, I am no demon! But you sure could scare the devil out of Marilyn Manson with the fire in those eyes of yours. "

"That's my smoldering, 'come hither' look, dude!!!"

He snatched up a small recording camera and pointed at her. "YOU LOOK LIKE SOMETHING FROM HELL YOURSELF!!! You are proof of otherworldy horror unexplained! I have to catch you on film!!!"

"OH NO YOU DON'T!!!" Artina hated to have her picture taken. In a flash she was on her feet and began to run madly around the room. The man with the cam was close behind, shouting, "WHY DON'T YOU FACE ME? ARE YOU SCARED OF ME? ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING FROM ME? "

Grabbing a curtain from the window, she covered her nudity and fled out the door, screaming like a banshee. Zak's boots echoed down the hall in chase as wolves outside the asylum howled.

 

[Dramaticflare]

Zak was propelled sideways by a fist clad in steel, the wolf howls turned asnarling. As he hit the ground, a knight he saw astanding.
"The lady said no," spoke the knight astanding.
(OOC: sorry I can't post more but I wanted to do this before more happened and I'm 9/10ths busy.)

 

[Artina Heartflash]

OOC: No prob. Thanks for telling me. Tio is busy and won't be posting for a while also.

To Public: Asylum still open. Anyone wishing to enter please PM me first.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Zak was propelled sideways by a fist clad in steel, the wolf howls turned asnarling. As he hit the ground, a knight he saw astanding.
"The lady said no," spoke the knight astanding.

The boot stomps of the chase had ended with a dull thud. Looking through the curtain lace that was draped over her head, Artina turned in the hall and saw astanding knight Dramatic towering over acrumpled mass of muscles Zak. Heartflash was astounded. The camera was the only thing running now. She picked it up off the floor and rewound it. In replay, it had captured a ghostly image, flowing wildly in front of the cam down a dark hall. "Damn. Contours of my ass were evident. The curtain was wedged in the crack!"

Zak groaned on the floor, rubbing his jaw. "I should have known there would be more than one spirit in this place." Slowly he rose to his feet, eyes blazing at Dramatic. He could barely speak from the impact on his jaw. Though words fell from his snarling lips, only a long high pitched tone was heard.

Artina assumed that the angels were at the censor controls.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

With the veil still floating around her full form, Artina threw her own investigator curiosity at Zak. "A man whose name is Eric has made a video complaining 'I have the worst news ever.' He then proceeded to tell a story, claiming you had blocked him on twitter. He said it was because he had commented to the twitter bird that you had bought up all the Tshirts at a child's clothing store and were wearing the too tight items to show off your pecs and biceps.

"I wrote my own response to his rant, asking, 'Are you sure the clothing comments are the reason(s) for him blocking you? Maybe the demons are messing with his twitter functions. I doubt he cares if you don't like his clothing. He's currently making his own line of dungeon wear. So this video is just for a laugh, right?' "

Artina shook her head in frustration at the memory. "The comment wouldn't post. I don't know if he had somehow blocked all new comments or if the angels were messing with the censors. He had quite a few fans of yours riled up."

"Honestly," she rambled, "I wanna know why you wear black almost all the time. Black absorbs the sun's rays and can make one sweat. But why wear black when you spend so much time in the dark chasing spirits?" Her voice grew more prickly, mocking Zak's aggressive questioning method. "Really, WHAT IS THE DARK SECRET BEHIND YOUR CHOICE OF CLOTHING? BLACK IS BOLD, BUT IT BLENDS YOU INTO THE SHADOWS. HAVE YOU SOMETHING TO HIDE FROM THOSE YOU CHASE? "

She stuck her tongue out playfully at Zak, knowing she had just used his own technique of instigation against him.

Zak looked back and forth at Dramatic and Artina, unsure who deserved his next response. He looked like he wanted to smack them both at the same time.

 

[Dramaticflare]

Spoke the knight astanding, "A spirit am I indeed, but I play different rules, creeds." Knight astanding drew his sword and shield, becoming knight amenacing. this knight seemed to grow in menace the longer he was armed. A dilberate physically provocation from someone who was already dead. Dead knight amenacing, Zak afuming, Artina arambling.
Over this scene came music awashing. Tense, quiet music not unlike a japanese shamisen being played atonally. Music awashing had no obvious source or direction, it seemed to come from everywhere. Sourceless music awashing setting tone for a scene without direction or audience.
Chord. Chord. Chord rising pitch scale. Note chord.
Camera had no sound pickup, just vision and missed out half the setting, camera watching with no hearing was camera, aperture and film and reel, just not real.
Chord. Note chord. Three falling notes, chord.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

***************

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"well I can hear the Killer Japanese Beetles munching on the lanyard I gave you, Dramatic." Artina snatched the infested roses and angel hair weave from the shoulder of the knight. "Seems my gifts tend to have no bearing on the heart of a knight who knows not how to use them."

She tossed the wreath onto Zak's sweating head. "Now be you demon or be you human, we shall soon know."

She looked at the sword trembling brilliantly in the menacing knight's hand. "You just cleaned that thing of blood. Any further mess you make will be your own to handle. I will make no more good of your evils."

She cocked her head in memory. "By the way, what ever did you do with the flamestarter and the intimate candle I gave you?"

"Flare, hold fast to your bottle of elixir. I may need a few drops soon."

 

[Dramaticflare]

"Good of my evil, though evil it is not, have you never made woman," spoke the knight amenacing. Still the strange tune carried around the three members of the asylum, perhaps inmates and perhaps wardens, or perhaps just their own wardens while being their own inmates. The knight amenacing neither moved nor reacted to Artina's retaking of the corrupted gift, nor it's placement on the unknown variable. "Nor is it my fault that succubi are not popping over reality lines to have a go on fornicating my soul away," he finished. He held his sword firmly as he pointed it at Zak. "be your fiend, foe, or forgery, know I saw the blood you were summoned wence and I know your core." He turned his point towards Artina though his shield and eyes did not leave variable unknown to his front. "I still possess the candle and mechanism, though I have no current need of either."
Strange music revealed to its normal source as Flare stepped out of the shadows, idly plucking his guitar and moving his hands in a strange fashion to produce the strange noise. "how did you know I was here, ask I?" Chord, chord, note note chord waving scale. His hands moved as crabs crosst the neck of the instrument.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"Good of my evil, though evil it is not, have you never made woman," spoke the knight amenacing. Still the strange tune carried around the three members of the asylum, perhaps inmates and perhaps wardens, or perhaps just their own wardens while being their own inmates. The knight amenacing neither moved nor reacted to Artina's retaking of the corrupted gift, nor it's placement on the unknown variable. "Nor is it my fault that succubi are not popping over reality lines to have a go on fornicating my soul away," he finished. He held his sword firmly as he pointed it at Zak. "be your fiend, foe, or forgery, know I saw the blood you were summoned wence and I know your core." He turned his point towards Artina though his shield and eyes did not leave variable unknown to his front. "I still possess the candle and mechanism, though I have no current need of either."
Strange music revealed to its normal source as Flare stepped out of the shadows, idly plucking his guitar and moving his hands in a strange fashion to produce the strange noise. "how did you know I was here, ask I?" Chord, chord, note note chord waving scale. His hands moved as crabs crosst the neck of the instrument.

"I thought it a little evil when you splattered the demon's blood about me in a circle. Perhaps you can tell me a reason to have me believe the act was not meant to offend? I will listen.

"The evils in the demon's blood were not your evils. At least that is what I assume. Some of your own blood may have mixed onto the blade during battle. Evil can infect the blood of friend and foe alike, (and likewise good blood, when shared, can create a seal to heal.) Anyway, I gathered what remnants of evil lay on the floor and entwined them with the potency of seraphim's hair. The lanyard was a symbol of honor, of evil slain, and a holy guard against the succubi who might want to kill you. Resources from heaven added, the end result was a good product I made from evil."

She looked upon Zak in his lamblike silence. Demon or other, the evidence had yet to be revealed, and her heart continued beating in wonder and desire. She knew that a a good sign; no one had destroyed her heart so far.

"Now Dramatic," she said, gazing again on the armored one, a bit of emerald light in her eyes. "You said to Zak I saw the blood you were summoned wence and I know your core."

She sat on the ground, weary. "At first I too thought the blood was a thirteenth rose of demon's blood. Then I felt THIS." She lifted up her bare heel to Dramatic's inspection. "See the imprint of a cross?" Gently she took Zak's hand and pulled it to her heel. "His ring matches the impression. No demon wears such a ring." With a heavy stern sigh, she informed the knight. "I stepped on that ring. The blood was indeed my own. Now say what you will about my blood and who/what you may think I myself am, but be gentle for once. What you say may well prove to be a reflection on your own character."

She tried to rise to her feet, struggling a bit as a moment of vertigo took hold. Then Zak took her hand and helped her up. "Thank you," she murmured.
"One more thing, Dramatic, my dear. I felt your loss, your frustration, your pain at not being able to summon up light in your room. I have experienced loss of personal powers many times. I gave you the fire starter hoping it would be a soulution. I will teach you the secret benefit of the man-woman candle if and when you are ever ready and willing. And I know you threw the flamestarter at me, and that it turned into a butterfly. How did you catch that butterfly again, since you say you still have the flamestarter?"

Yes, Artina was tired. She wished she could turn her mind off at times, when stress mounted. But if she could raise the awareness of others with her insight, her curiosity, her perspective, and even her madness, she would try her best to do so. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes, but she chose not to remain ignorant for long as she searched for truth.

"Oh, that I could think less right now and just FEEL more," she said wistfully, leaning back. Zak was right behind her, and slowly put an arm about her as her back pressed into his torso.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

The fist mark was beginning to darken on Zak's face. Artina noticed this and began to rub his jaw, knowing he must be hurting. "I hate to see ANYone hurt," she mumbled as she stroked, trying to soothe the bruise.

"Drama, Drama, one last question if you can bear it: Why did you throw the punch at this creature? He did not attack you. He was chasing me but he had not hurt me either. Search your heart and tell me honestly. Why did you strike him?"

 

[Dramaticflare]

"you pose many questions," spoke the knight amenacing, as he sheathed his sword and threw his shield straps over his shoulder so that it hung loose behind his back, "and demand many answers as if you may come and go into my psyche as you please. You too, turn your words into blades to stab those who offend your tender sensibilities." Flare stopped playing his guitar now, watching intently as Dramatic once more took off his helmet.
"Your blood must be powerful indeed to summon a man here, Artina, and I have see much; but not that. Not alone. Unless there's something inside yourself, and alterior form of beauty or chaos? Now I could believe that, when a mechanism I threw at you turned into a butterfly and came back." he reached behind his back and held out the lighter. It faded again into a blue butterfly, translucent and shining at the same time. Dramatic closed his fist, and opened, and again the lighter was restored. He put it back where it came. Now he reached down the front of his brestplate, inside, and pulled out a metal circle attached around his neck on a string. "I know nothing of that cross, save that we used them to kill the worst of criminals. You use as a symbol of good? That is a far blacker joke than I have heard before. I use this, a symbol for the sun which gives my suffering world any life it has." He put his symbol away.

"And now you ask me to search my heart, and speak honestly as if I have ever done anything else. For this, you shall ask and not receive, for the question itself speaks of no understanding, and the answser will not fill the void." Dramatic put his helmet on, turned on his heel, and walked away down the corridor. Flare plucked on his guitar again, idly switching between notes. "I think you actually managed to piss him off. I've been trying to do that this whole time." he grinned a little, then.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"you pose many questions," spoke the knight amenacing, as he sheathed his sword and threw his shield straps over his shoulder so that it hung loose behind his back, "and demand many answers as if you may come and go into my psyche as you please. You too, turn your words into blades to stab those who offend your tender sensibilities." Flare stopped playing his guitar now, watching intently as Dramatic once more took off his helmet.
"Your blood must be powerful indeed to summon a man here, Artina, and I have see much; but not that. Not alone. Unless there's something inside yourself, and alterior form of beauty or chaos? Now I could believe that, when a mechanism I threw at you turned into a butterfly and came back." he reached behind his back and held out the lighter. It faded again into a blue butterfly, translucent and shining at the same time. Dramatic closed his fist, and opened, and again the lighter was restored. He put it back where it came. Now he reached down the front of his brestplate, inside, and pulled out a metal circle attached around his neck on a string. "I know nothing of that cross, save that we used them to kill the worst of criminals. You use as a symbol of good? That is a far blacker joke than I have heard before. I use this, a symbol for the sun which gives my suffering world any life it has." He put his symbol away.

"And now you ask me to search my heart, and speak honestly as if I have ever done anything else. For this, you shall ask and not receive, for the question itself speaks of no understanding, and the answser will not fill the void." Dramatic put his helmet on, turned on his heel, and walked away down the corridor. Flare plucked on his guitar again, idly switching between notes. "I think you actually managed to piss him off. I've been trying to do that this whole time." he grinned a little, then.

"Ah, Flare. He thinks I ask the questions with harmful intent. I question him simply in order to understand why he acts as he does. It is a desire for intimacy which prompts me to seek the secrets of one's soul and psyche." Artina was sad. "I should be used to seeing backs turn on me when I care about people to interview them. Dramatic is not the first to take offense at my probes. Yet the angry replies always are disappointing. I made no demands that he answer such inquieries. He has right to remain silent. But I know not how to react to silence except to let him be."

She smiled at Flare. "Take no offense in what I say. I have no plan to nail anyone to a cross." She sighed. "Flare, I hate it when I cannot help someone. Should I simply just have asked him 'What is your need?' He is gone now. So I will just ask you: Is there something I can do for you?"

 

[Dramaticflare]

"If you truly desire to know someone's soul, interrogation is rarely the best method. I learned how to relate people the hard way, and often have to cheat. I suspect my counterpoint had to learn how to stop relating to people the hard way, and for different reasons our response to the question, "what is your need," is the same. Not at this moment. It is too pure and unspecific a question to answer well."
Flare strummed a few chords as he considered.
"The demand of inquiry is never explicit, but always implicit in question. Even if they know they have the right to silence, someone could take offense to the question alone." Flare began stirring up a jaunty tune as he spoke, and at his last word began a slow, measured prance away. It looked like contained enthusiam, lightning in a bottle in a dance.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"If you truly desire to know someone's soul, interrogation is rarely the best method. I learned how to relate people the hard way, and often have to cheat. I suspect my counterpoint had to learn how to stop relating to people the hard way, and for different reasons our response to the question, "what is your need," is the same. Not at this moment. It is too pure and unspecific a question to answer well."
Flare strummed a few chords as he considered.
"The demand of inquiry is never explicit, but always implicit in question. Even if they know they have the right to silence, someone could take offense to the question alone." Flare began stirring up a jaunty tune as he spoke, and at his last word began a slow, measured prance away. It looked like contained enthusiam, lightning in a bottle in a dance.

"He has weighed my questions as bricks thrown. He heard not the affectionate term "dear" I tossed in with some words. Seems he has not properly weighed the heart in gifts I gave him. He saw no charity in the flamestarter, (and I still wonder why he threw it back at me). He felt no worth in the lanyard." She nodded a bit at the obvious. "Okay, really, why would he need it with all that heavy armor? Maybe he thought it just embellishment. I just wanted him protected more fully from attacks which he might not anticipate. Perhaps I should make more brownies with treats. Everyone needs to eat."

She threw up her hands. "Needs...wants... change. Yet the clown at Mickey D's knows to ask 'What will you have of me?' And he has billions and billions of friends." She choked back her ramble."Right now I need a drink. The lightning in the bottle looks better than the monstrous Tequila Worm that twisted through Amityville Horror. Or was that Poltergeist Two? Oh well.. Keep on playing." She walked away toward her room, but shot back gently over her shoulder."That's not a demand. That's encouragement, Dear Flare."

She wasn't even sure he heard her, as he was prancing away.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Once she stepped inside the room, the chill immediately penetrated her flesh, hitting the bones. "Oh God, it's so lonely in here," she groaned, feeling the heaviness of the atmosphere. "This feels like ice. Isolation. For sure, a paranormal investigator would find it overcrowded with cold spots, and blame them on spirits." Her head turned sharply to look back at the open door. "Maybe I need to get involved in some paranormal adventures...But---Where did Zak go?!"

Sleepily, she returned to the hallway, stumbling as she felt along the peeling wall of distress, farther and farther away from her lonely room. Still the mists trailed her, and she felt the depression of the same. Her nails raked the corridor as she travelled, leaving flakes of phosphorescent paint falling to the floor behind her.

The metal number 9 on a wooden door was not as cold as the mists enveloping her. She tapped it lightly, and the door opened soundlessly. There he was, fully clothed in black and lying spread eagled on an antique bed of linens and fluff, his warm breath curling in the cold air as he gasped. "My legs are tingling and it feels like fingers are crawling up to my crotch." Artina's curious gaze landed momentarily on the areas he spoke of, but she saw no pole in his baggy pants to prove his arousal. "I know there is a spirit in this room. It is that of a woman who died of a broken heart. She looks for a lover still. If it's love she wants, I am going to give it to her good," he declared.

Artina started to laugh in amusement, thinking typical horny male. Then she saw the roses and heart shaped chocolate box he had placed on the nightstand as an offering for the spirit. "Oh, wow..." she murmured in surprise. "Perhaps he's serious. He's giving his body over to whatever may come his way. He wants the forlorn woman who haunts the space but he may tempt God-knows-what into action as well."

"This is my passion!" he excalimed to whoever might listen. "To know if we can love after death!"

Artina was fascinated by his words. She already knew the answer was "yes, there is love after death. Love is Life Eternal." Yet, due to her fear she might impose and spoil his fun, she held her silence. The cloak of depression was tightening about her. "Gad, Who am I to hope I might rouse him with my presence. He seeks the thrill of exploring the unknown. Would that I held the attraction of mystery."

She slunk back to her room, which felt colder than ever. In the closet she pulled an old guard cap and a dark corset which held memories of when she had more control over matters of the flesh. Putting the articles on, about the room she floated, trying to recall what it felt like to be attractive. Her head tilted back, her eyes toward a hole in the ceiling. Was someone watching over her in the room above? She didn't know. She moved to the window and stared dreamily at the full moon. Again, the wolves howled, and she felt as if she were being laughed at. She shook off her white slouch socks just in case.

The throw pillows blue and black in the dim began to feel like skin beneath her fingers as she tried to recollect. Oh yes... the memories of muscle were there, but reciprocal movements of flesh were not. Her hand left an impression on the plump satin, but no warmth was gathered.

Then the truth came to the fore: she realized that while she had had control over flesh years ago, she had no control of the hearts beneath that flesh.

Fluff of the pillows flew into the air as she shred them in her frustration and sorrow. Some heart pillows spilled out angel turds, some small pellets like bullets. Where are the diamonds in the batch? she wondered aloud in pain.

"No...No more." She threw the cap to the floor, and the star of Alcatraz on the face of the same trembled, dull grey in the shadows. Outside, the purple silken sky broke into rain. Across from the window, on a street with no name, banners of fire broke out on a communications tower top like burning flags.

She curled up for a long time on her mattress but did not sleep. The song "Bad" by U2 circulated in the mists about her, clung to her skin, vibrated in her soul.

If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would let it go, surrender, dislocate

If I could throw this lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay, see you walk, walk away
Into the night and through the rain
Into the half-light and through the flame

If I could through myself set your spirit free
I'd lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light and to the day

Ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh

To let it go and so to fade away
To let it go and so fade away
I'm wide awake, I'm wide awake, wide awake
I'm not sleeping, oh no, no, no

If you should ask then maybe they'd
Tell you what I would say, true colors fly in blue and black
Bruised silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes

Ooh ooh, ooh ooh
Ooh ooh

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would let it go, this desperation, dislocation
Separation, condemnation, revelation
In temptation, isolation, desolation

Let it go and so fade away, to let it go
Oh yeah and so fade away, to let it go, oh no
And so to fade away, I'm wide awake, I'm wide awake
Wide awake, I'm not sleeping, oh no, no, no

 

[Artina Heartflash]

The shadows shifted and the musty smells in the bedroom were suddenly overpowered by a new scent of Ozone. It was followed by a whisper on her wet pillow, a nuance which smelled like gentle aphrodisiac. The cinnamon source was near her face, breath sweeping her brow. "The spirit of the woman who died of a broken heart left my knees trembling, and left me wanting," he said. A rose petal caught the tear on Heartflash's cheek and absorbed it. The scent filled her and calmed her. "She didn't linger; she disappeared too quickly," the voice continued calmly.

In the dark, Artina felt the rose as it was laid next to her heart. "So I followed the spirit here," he murmured.

As Artina lit a candle quickly, the shoulder muscles and back of a male form were illuminated. His countenance was turned away from her full view, his lowered face but a glimpse of high cheekbone barely visible over his left shoulder. The tattoo of a skull headed, draped creature balancing good on one hand and evil on the other was just below the twist of his neck, at top of his spine. It was both a lovely and fearsome image.

"Thank you, angel," murmured Artina Heartflash, chewing thoughtfully the rose he had given her.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

Morning light fell on the notice fluttering on Dramatic's door. In the center of the red triangle was image of a man struck by lightning. Below it were words scrawled, with wingding bombs lining alongside the text.

You are hereby summoned to the courtyard for assault on fellow traveller. Item # 80-82 #@!!! from Paranormal Pictures has been submitted to Asylum manager as visually recorded evidence of the offense. Please respond or face the consequences.

Singed... (yes, singed in black impact),
Artina Heartflash

 

[Dramaticflare]

The note, taken by Dramatic, soon found its way onto a fire. Dramatic seemed to express little or no concern over the issue, and even went so far as to remove his metal gloves to better receive the warmth. He stared into the fire wistfully, and began to think outloud, alone in his room.
"Wherefore did I come, and where will I go? Here, or no world manifest? Between these worlds of spirit and living, nothing shall last. Everything shall remain as it never was."
The crackle of the fire was all that greeted him. Whatever consequences Artina had in mind did not way on his. Quietly, deliberately, he stretched out a hand and again intoned the words, "Creari lucem." But seemed unfazed when again nothing happened.
"Here, the strength of my soul matters not, magic is not the root cause and all the demons are possessed, our demons. The things I would have to fight, can't be fought anymore. No longer my kingdom," he trailed off and clutched at a floating ember. When he opened his hand it was gone, and he sighed.

Flare sat on his bed, playing and singing snatches from his favored metal songs.
"I never feel safe to dream
I won't close my eyes and sleep
I fear that the dreams I dream are real
You need me so trust me
I'll make you feel free
You're under my spell now
So welcome to hell"
He stopped here, and laid back upon his bed.

(OOC: Dramatic's first line paraphrased out of Eluveitie's Otherworld.)

 

[Artina Heartflash]

"OH Dramatic," sighed Artina, entering the door. "You have burned the notice without investigation. Where is your sense of curiosity? Your desire for adventure? You don't like challenges? "

She was stroking Schrodinger's cat in her arms. The cat meowed curiously at the fire. "Perhaps she smells the chocolate confectioner's bombs that were attached to the text of your summons. There were Omega 3 sardine strips in the red triangle."

The cat curled up by the fire, crying and purring at same time. Artina gently looked into the face of Dramatic as she lifted off his helmet. "If you weren't so dang pretty I might have slapped you in return for your bruising of Zak's jaw. But would that be fair justice to such a fair face?" She threw some popcorn on to the fire. It exploded out in a flourish into Dramatic's face.

She picked up one of the popped kernels and noticed it looked like a skull face. "Hope the Smart Pop didn't burn you. If it did, show me where to kiss it and make it feel better. Perhaps...just perhaps... this sun you seek to seize may appear to your grasp."

 

[Artina Heartflash]

The photo of "The Sting" flutters into the room and lands on the floor. Barely glancing at it, Artina observes in an instant. "14 fingerprints and one ass print. What does this mean??"

She scrawls a note on the photo with her nails. "Death to Apathy!!!" Tossing it back toward the waiting room, she offers Dramatic her attention once more, squirming a bit closer.

 

[Artina Heartflash]

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