View Single Post
Old 06-07-2017, 12:13 AM   #43
Balmund
'Munds of fun
 
Balmund's Avatar
 
Join Date: May 2009
Location: A snake's lair.
Posts: 2,369
Send a message via Skype™ to Balmund
Quote:
Originally Posted by 134 View Post




Le Cimetière des Cœurs Oubliés

Balmund:
"You are a terribly forward man," Amelie complains, and for a brief moment she seems a touch less sorry about your fate. Pulling away from Yuki, she motions around you, to the cemetery; the sky above you grows dark rapidly, and the snow stops falling, everything growing still. Only the moonlight and your footsteps in the snow break the purity of the dark and motionless night. Yuki begins to giggle in that eerie way again, the sound like cracks spreading through a frozen lake. Amelie looks tired. "This, mister Balmund, is the day on which I died."

Her tone is straightforward. She looks at her watch, though what she hopes to see in this darkness is anyone's guess. Yuki clasps her hands together under her glacial chin, hollow body swaying in the winter wind.

"It's shortly after six o' clock in the morning," she informs you, with a jarring sense of practicality. "And soon the sun will rise. Every morning, the sun rises a bit after six-thirty. Breakfast is at seven. Tea is at eleven. The Thomas family buries their daughter at two in the afternoon. I attend dinner with my fiance at 6:45pm. At 10:27pm, my heart stops -- I die of exposure. And then I wake up here again, at 6 o'clock in the morning, for longer than I can remember."

She pauses, and looks at Yuki, and then at you. She laughs, small and contrived. "I think this is hell-!"

It takes her a moment to compose herself, during which she continues to giggle, the situation so tragic it has become funny, if only as a matter of self-preservation. How she hasn't gone mad under the circumstances is beyond anyone's guess; who's to say she hasn't? She seems stable, however, if not a tad eccentric. She claims, however, that you're in her personal hell. What will you do?


Duke maintained his trademark poker face as Amelie tried her best to supress her laughing fit. His reaction wasn't out of lack of sympathy. In truth, he could hardly imagine how painful and maddening reliving one's own dying day over and over again would be. For how many years, nay, decades, has this been going on? And yet, if he wanted to remain objectively useful and capable, either for her or for himself, he couldn't allow himself to be clouded by an emotional lens, and to be seen as such either.

He had listened attentively to her tale, and tried in the process to make mental note of some of the relevant implications it had in regards with his situation. Firstly, it was implied that he had a fixed timeframe to work on, starting now, until the time of Amelie's untimely demise at 10:27 p.m. It's uncertain what would happen afterwards, but given what she had said earlier regarding there being no escape, he figured his fate was probably linked to hers until then. That in turn also raised the question on whether or not there had been other ones before him, and what had happened during prior instances if they had. He wasn't sure if he should ask about that, but perhaps more clues could be found later on. Lastly, there was that significant gap in time between dinnertime with her fiance and her death by "exposure". A lot could happen in nearly four hours, and perhaps it was this timeframe that was most critical in relationship with her curse. The means of death in relationship with the current wheather did not escape Duke's notice, though he figured it wouldn't be as simple to avoid.

All things considered, Duke takes a a quick glance at Iskra before turning back to the rose-clad woman, waiting for her to compose herself before asking an inquiry most obvious and expected. "M'lady, how can we be of help?"
__________________

::FB::WF::

Last edited by Balmund; 07-10-2017 at 03:34 PM.
Balmund is offline   Reply With Quote