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| Ōmagatoki; "the hour of meeting evil spirits" Open | |
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| Topic Started: May 5 2018, 09:01 PM (65 Views) | |
| Mariko | May 5 2018, 09:01 PM Post #1 |
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folie a deux
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War does not determine who is right -- only who is left. -Bertrand Russel The absurd growth of the forest had been more or less trimmed back in most places, but there were still many ruined buildings and domiciles in the city of Madrid, many bodies that had not yet been recovered, many people still missing. Most families had given up hope of finding their loved ones, while others still searched. Some searched for the faith that those dear to them would be returned, while others simply searched because it was all they had left: the alternative would mean to start over in a new, painful life empty of its previous meaning. The war had changed much, and it had ended, but so many people still carried it with them, and the suffering continued. From her seat by the window, Mariko contemplated this, chin in her hand, looking almost bored. Taro lay on the floor by her side, snoring in regular, soothing honks, while Ylsa rolled incense at the kitchen table, her crutch leaning up against the counter beside her. The pale woman had been gravely injured in the war and had nearly died -- three times in as many hours, apparently -- and her already-frail body was never the same after. She kept smiling though, obnoxiously carrying on with her life and trying to help others come to terms with theirs. It was annoying, but Mari had to admit, the resilience of some people was pretty astonishing: merchants who survived carried on with their businesses, finding new avenues in the swath of destruction Maedaigh had left behind; mothers cared for their children, the poor among whom sifted through the rubble for scraps and useables; most men became impromptu tradesmen, taking apart damaged buildings and erecting new ones in their places. She didn't know how to feel about any of it. On one hand, how could everyone just carry on when such terrible things had happened -- but on the other, what else were they supposed to do? The fingers of her left hand twitched, and she twisted her mouth slightly. Bitterness rose, then dissolved, eaten up by the invisible chasm at the bottom of every mortal's heart. It was late, and it was dark outside, the place lit only by the little lanterns that lined Ylsa's garden and the one which stood outside her front door. Their faint glow lit up some of the leaves of the trees nearby, and their branches shifted in a gentle evening breeze, carrying some of the scent of the flowers and herbs in through the crack in the window. It was quiet on this edge of Madrid, the nearest city centre a half-hour's brisk walk uphill. No sounds filtered down the ravine wall, save for the wooping whistles of night-birds and the creaking of the season's first insects -- but the peace wasn't to last. Mariko's brow furrowed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her blood ran cold. A moment later, the charming property fell completely silent. The wind died, and even the insects stopped their chirruping. On the other side of the kitchen, Ylsa's fragrant, dust-covered hands stopped and she too looked up and out the nearest window, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to stay as still as possible. Taro's head lifted and he froze similarly. For several moments it seemed like time simply stopped, nothing moving, no sounds. For several moments, nothing. Then, there was a rustling in the trees, but there was no wind. A moment later, something emerged. Mariko's eyes widened, and Ylsa's lips parted in shock. It was tall, easily taller than the little house, perhaps even taller than some of the larger buildings in the city center, but in the darkness it was impossible to tell much more about it -- it looked, however, far too human, walking upright on two bone-thin legs and swinging thin, lanky arms. The air suddenly swelled with a rotting, wet stink, but neither of the women moved to cover their noses, watching as the thing stopped in the middle of the path and appeared to look towards the house. At once, the lanterns went out, and it was swallowed by the shadows. Ylsa stood slowly and stepped towards the door. Mariko did not stop her as she calmly opened it and stepped out, unafraid, leaning on her crutch and peering hard into the darkness. For many moments, there was nothing. Then, a long, high scream -- on the very edge of human, and much louder than any one body was capable of producing -- split the air, echoing off the ravine walls and shaking the shelves and windowframes of the buildings on this edge of Madrid. It was followed by an eerie, ear-ringing silence. Mariko stepped out of the house and stood behind Ylsa, hands in her pockets, Taro loyally hugging her side. "Well if that don't beat all, I'll tell you..." She mumbled. After standing outside for another fifteen minutes, murmuring to each other about what it possibly could have been, or meant, they could come up with no solid ideas and eventually turned and went back inside, but smartly shut and locked all the doors and windows behind them. Ylsa warded the house and set out some food offerings just in case, but nothing was heard or seen by them for the rest of the night. Both, however, knew what they saw, and neither slept particularly well. Something evil still lurked in Madrid. |
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