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I'm fighting inspiration a bit on this one. I know how I want it to go, and I know what's going to happen, and even suspect how it ends (I don't know, because Rick and Darren always keep me guessing) but how to start it? I hate being blocked, may have to break onto one of the others to encourage more activity.
Anyway - onwards.
Rick’s asleep, again. The man spends the better part of his life in bed. Has he ever even seen the sun rise? I doubt it.
It’s a shame, and I’m almost tempted to wake him. Rich, thick light traces the stark white lines of Rick’s flat with golden filigree, even the dark table and chairs I’ve added to the flat seem to glow with inner light, or draped with fine gold mesh. The sky itself is a melting pot of gold and red, centred around a burning pulse of breath taking beauty. No amount of sleep can be worth missing this sight.
I’ve taken to greeting every dawn, glorifying in every sunrise. Each one could be my last. And each one is a miracle, another day I’ve survived, another day I’ve fought the darkness and won.
My life feels safer and stable for the first time in years. Perhaps the first time ever. It’s certainly happier than it’s ever been before. I’ve become so used to Rick in my bed, it feels strange not to have him next to me. The internet occult provider Rick helped me start is slowly climbing its way to success, and the flat has been decorated to some approximation of style.
I have love, a home and a thousand reasons to smile every day. For the first time since childhood, I am happy.
But it can’t last. The defeat... and death... of my sister will not stop my family. They know where I am, it’s only a matter of time before this fragile peace is shattered. I’ve made plans, I have strategies and contingencies prepared for nearly any encounter. They are woefully inadequate. But then, nothing I could do would be enough to hold back one of the world’s most powerful magickal families.
It can’t last. Every wondrous day has to be treasured beyond measure. I can already feel their end approaching.
Three are coming, anger bright in their eyes and death riding at their heels. They are coming, casting long shadows before them. Shadows of conflict, hate, rage and death. Shadows that force ripples through the abyssal realms, as daemonic denizens eagerly gather in anticipation of the destruction to come.
They are coming, and they will be terrible.
Anyway - onwards.
Rick’s asleep, again. The man spends the better part of his life in bed. Has he ever even seen the sun rise? I doubt it.
It’s a shame, and I’m almost tempted to wake him. Rich, thick light traces the stark white lines of Rick’s flat with golden filigree, even the dark table and chairs I’ve added to the flat seem to glow with inner light, or draped with fine gold mesh. The sky itself is a melting pot of gold and red, centred around a burning pulse of breath taking beauty. No amount of sleep can be worth missing this sight.
I’ve taken to greeting every dawn, glorifying in every sunrise. Each one could be my last. And each one is a miracle, another day I’ve survived, another day I’ve fought the darkness and won.
My life feels safer and stable for the first time in years. Perhaps the first time ever. It’s certainly happier than it’s ever been before. I’ve become so used to Rick in my bed, it feels strange not to have him next to me. The internet occult provider Rick helped me start is slowly climbing its way to success, and the flat has been decorated to some approximation of style.
I have love, a home and a thousand reasons to smile every day. For the first time since childhood, I am happy.
But it can’t last. The defeat... and death... of my sister will not stop my family. They know where I am, it’s only a matter of time before this fragile peace is shattered. I’ve made plans, I have strategies and contingencies prepared for nearly any encounter. They are woefully inadequate. But then, nothing I could do would be enough to hold back one of the world’s most powerful magickal families.
It can’t last. Every wondrous day has to be treasured beyond measure. I can already feel their end approaching.
Three are coming, anger bright in their eyes and death riding at their heels. They are coming, casting long shadows before them. Shadows of conflict, hate, rage and death. Shadows that force ripples through the abyssal realms, as daemonic denizens eagerly gather in anticipation of the destruction to come.
They are coming, and they will be terrible.