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Old 05-30-2017, 08:14 PM   #23
134
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Le Cimetičre des Cœurs Oublié


Balmund:


"I wouldn't do that, were I you," a voice says, from somewhere behind you, as if capable of hearing your intentions to attack the teru teru bozū if you deemed it necessary. You turn, understandably, to see where the words originate from, and find yourself looking into the face of a young woman, with grey-blue eyes and golden blonde hair. Her expression is dull and almost emotionless, save for perhaps the thinnest thread of curiosity woven into her gaze; she doesn't say anything else to you, however, instead walking past you to the continuously swelling doll. Her brown leather boots crunch on the rapidly accumulating snow, and her red wool coat -- layered over a white dress -- rides up at her calves when she reaches over her head and unties the doll from its branch. Suspending it from two fingers, she reaches out with the other hand, and gives Iskra a friendly pat on the head, apparently undeterred by her ghostly nature.

"It's rude to damage other peoples' things," she admonishes, in a weary manner. Meanwhile, the doll has sprouted arms. Two foot long, three foot; it continues to grow and warp in shape, but the young woman doesn't seem disturbed in the least. "Moreover, Yuki isn't a thing. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps all men are the same. Such terrible senses of entitlement. Such terrible cruelty. You take what you want, and then you break it. Were you going to break Yuki, too?"

The teru teru bozū has grown to a staggering four feet, a thick red sash around its waist, and you realize its eyes are no longer painted on, but actually looking at you. With arms that protrude from its own head, it reach up, and giggles into one palm. The young woman releases the string, and it disappears, thick ice crystals erupting from the former doll's head in it's wake; a fully formed Frosslass stands before you, though it makes no move to attack. Rather, it hovers next to its liberator, its laughter echoing like shattering ice.

What will you do?



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