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Old 05-28-2017, 05:07 PM   #15
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Originally Posted by 134 View Post

Le Cimetičre des Cœurs Oublié


There is a sadness which permeates every inch of the cemetery, as if the very soil mourns for the souls interred inside. It creeps into your cones and saturates Iskra; the Shuppet seems to thrive on the misery endemic to this place, flitting about like a young jaybird from place to place as she chases succulent sorrows through the fog. The irony is rich as you appreciate her happiness at the expense of all those who never found peace, but then, the world is hardly fair, is it?

The late evening is cold, and damp. Moss grows on the aging mausoleums. Iskra follows something tantalizing through the branches of a dead Apricorn tree, twisting and winding her way up the gnarled limbs in a meandering, eerie corkscrew. Briefly, you wonder if this is the fabled tree where the lovers took their lives; it's huge, but so are so many. Iskra drifts away from it, now bored; perhaps not. You can't see the sun through the clouds and fog, but you know it couldn't have set yet, as it's neither late nor dark enough. A chilly breeze cuts through the area, catching you off guard. Despite the wind, everything is paradoxically still. You walk slowly, keeping an eye on Iskra.

Passing by a remarkably well-kept crypt -- relative to its peers -- a flash of white catches your attention from your periphery. No, two flashes of white. The first is a paper envelope, pinned with a mental tack to the wooden tomb door. "DUKE" is written on it in bold block print. It seems a dead man shares a name with you. It looks fresh, not yet spoiled by the damp. The other is a paper doll hanging from a nearby tree; a teru teru bōzu. Perhaps someone has grown weary of this dreary weather. It's made of fine white linen, and also looks freshly placed; as soon as Iskra takes sight of it, she becomes curiously incensed, circling it with great enthusiasm. Perhaps she likes the novelty of seeing her own likeness in a doll?

What will you do?

Duke seemed particularly intrigued at the sight of the envelope bearing his common nickname of choice, and he wondered what where the chances of stumbling unto such a thing, unless there wasn't any chance involved. From his perspective, there wasn't such a thing as mere coincidences - every ocurrance had a reason to be - and perhaps the letter was somehow placed deliberately for him. A part of him, the curious side, wondered what its contents entailed... but he ultimately decided to resist the urge. Shoving his ego aside for a moment, he figured that if the letter was truly addressed towards him, then the sender would've used his full name and title, and given that wasn't the case, it would've been awfully rude to breach its seal without proper justification. Just imagine the kind of secret and intimate affairs that hid within! This "DUKE"... what sort of man was he in life, and would it be really worth it to carry the burden of knowledge? Maybe... no, letters left upon the resting place of the dead where private dealings better left untouched and undisturbed. Duke knew better than this folly.

At the same time, Iskra seemed quite drawn to a hanging paper doll, which seemed to have manifested itself almost simultaneously as the envelope did into Duke's circle of awareness. "My, it seems you've found yourself a little buddy, haven't you?" He cuckled, taking notice of the Ghost-type's antics, though Duke was certain finding a doll in her likeness wasn't all there was to it. After all, there were plenty other plushies back at home, and none tickled her fancy so, at least not that he was aware off. Perhaps there was something she noticed that was beyond his mortal sight. Regardless of what it was, the doll itself made quite a contrast with the surrounding tones of grim and grey, forming a rather interesting composition. The least he could do for now, was to pull out his phone and take a picture for posterity.


Last edited by Balmund; 07-10-2017 at 02:36 PM.
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