debts all come due

[myironeyes]

[Open spam, basically anywhere]

[He drifts. He expresses the will of the place he is in. If someone tries to interrupt a performance or deviate from the script in the Opera House, he will prevent it with a snapped wrist or an effortless backhand into the wall. Someone upsetting the ghosts in the stables or interfering with the banquet, anyone doing too much damage to the walls, or fighting the inhabitants - he hurts them until they stop. Somewhere, he acquires a broadaxe, heavy and eerily crystalline, not the little obsidian hatchets he knows, but light in his hands. The brief moments of brutality are like scraps of food to a starving hound. But he does not always kill, even though Ruin's chasms in him yearn too. The place is not concerned with how fast the intruders die. And before any of his own concerns, he is its hand.]

Comments

[darknessb4me]

[Arthas walks the halls, too, desperation giving his spells power. He climbs to the high balconies of the library, where the walls dissolve and reality becomes softer, and pulls the stones into each other with wide, rough chains of ice, trying desperately to make an opening.]

holler if this isn't okay!

[maytakecenturies]

[She's only been lost in the opera house for a few minutes, but it grades on her nerves like steel scraping against steel. The constant urging and jostling and shoving, and every time she tries to avoid the stage she finds herself there again, her stomach twisting in her chest when she recognizes the uniforms the....actors wear.

One - wearing a dark blue jump suit that matches the one she still occasionally wears, save for the color along the shoulders and the extra rank pip - gets too close and she breaks her veneer of calm to shove him back. She doesn't have to look for the radiation meter hooked to his chest pocket to know it's meant to be Commander Tucker, and no matter what scene is about to play out, she has no interest in reliving it.

She only notices Marsh after she's gone off book, and that first backhand nearly knocks her over, would have if she hadn't grabbed for the curtain. Her eyes narrow, and she fights the urge to rush him.]

What are you doing? [She struggles not to snarl the words at him, doesn't succeed.]