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Entry tags:
- avatar: zuko,
- doctor who: the doctor,
- dragon quest xi s: eleven,
- harry potter: hermione granger,
- harry potter: lily evans,
- kingdom of the wicked: emilia,
- kingdom of the wicked: wrath,
- kingdom: lee chang,
- mo dao zu shi: xiao xingchen,
- npc,
- npc: haltham,
- npc: karsa,
- star wars: anakin skywalker,
- threadjack away,
- umbrella academy: allison,
- umbrella academy: diego,
- untamed: jin guangyao,
- watch_dogs: wrench
username: lady of the willow tree | audio
( She has long suffered, her great sigh speaks, every fool that's walked this world. ) ...you took more dead. Why are you like this? You want friends? I buy you friends. Three for five coin pieces, at the market. You are ugly, maybe I pay seven. And you are fools! No one likes you. I pay nine.
Pah! What is your luck? What is my luck? These other clapping seals in their little frills, with their little cakes and their little cups, they are playing their little games. And they come to me with messages. I I have the look of a saint now, who delivers word. How fortunate Karsa is. How grateful.
Look here. Pay attention. ( She spits out the words: ) First come the beggars, the Bessis. What is their puny fire worth now? I breathe hotter each morning. They ask for their captives, to hide their shame. Imagine! You kill, and you kill, and you kill, and then you keep your dead 'allies' like vermin, and it is not good, when you are found out. Who could have thought?
( And softer: ) The others. The Attaryl, for whom speaks the red woman, Vannozza. They want their dead. For burial. Ha! As if she will not use them to say, looooooooooooook! Look what my cousin's good friends! Look. But the witches... these are their dead.
So, talk, choose, and — ( The transmission seems to flicker, her voice first feeble, then doubled, then she shrieks: ) No. No. You do not dare, you do not presume, you do not, you fur-clad pink pig, you do not dare —
( But Karsa falls silent. To a quiet backdrop, broken only by a rhythmic drip, speaks undead Lord Anurr of Sa-Hareth — who has not been seen since arriving in Sa-Hareth. He seems to borrow the voices of multiple men, women and children, never settling on the one: )
H elLo Li TtlE FrIenD S. HoW Ha VE YoU Be EN? GoOD? Yo U ArE Go OD peOPlE.
Go oD ThIn Gs SHOUl D HaPpE N T o GoOd Peop Le. And GoO D EnDing S to Th Ose Who HAV e SuF f e Red LoN G.
N o? Y E s.
And Th E y havE SuFFer Ed, ThEse AtTa ryL. An D N oW ThEY WoU l D Be Use D aGA in?
No. So Man Y BuRNs. So ManY WA I Ls. I heAR ThE M FroM HerE.
GiVE Them To ME. Th E Y Will Be O U R BrothER sI n SA-HARE Th. Fr E e.
( As quickly as Anurr interrupted, his voice disappears. A long heartbeat's silence. By the time Karsa recovers command of her own transmission sorcery, she is quieter for it, rattled. )
You... that. That disgusting creature. That... well. Well, you heard him, didn't you? You heard him. Tell me what you wish done. You cannot have it all ways. Only one answer.
( ooc: the floor is yours, threadjack away, debate the fate of the six undead claimed in the Bessis tower disaster, plus the three previously weaponised by Wei Wuxian. Characters with 'ownership' of the dead get final say — please state it! All the undead will go to the petitioner with the highest number of votes. Haltham Anurr will not be answering any comments. )
Pah! What is your luck? What is my luck? These other clapping seals in their little frills, with their little cakes and their little cups, they are playing their little games. And they come to me with messages. I I have the look of a saint now, who delivers word. How fortunate Karsa is. How grateful.
Look here. Pay attention. ( She spits out the words: ) First come the beggars, the Bessis. What is their puny fire worth now? I breathe hotter each morning. They ask for their captives, to hide their shame. Imagine! You kill, and you kill, and you kill, and then you keep your dead 'allies' like vermin, and it is not good, when you are found out. Who could have thought?
( And softer: ) The others. The Attaryl, for whom speaks the red woman, Vannozza. They want their dead. For burial. Ha! As if she will not use them to say, looooooooooooook! Look what my cousin's good friends! Look. But the witches... these are their dead.
So, talk, choose, and — ( The transmission seems to flicker, her voice first feeble, then doubled, then she shrieks: ) No. No. You do not dare, you do not presume, you do not, you fur-clad pink pig, you do not dare —
( But Karsa falls silent. To a quiet backdrop, broken only by a rhythmic drip, speaks undead Lord Anurr of Sa-Hareth — who has not been seen since arriving in Sa-Hareth. He seems to borrow the voices of multiple men, women and children, never settling on the one: )
H elLo Li TtlE FrIenD S. HoW Ha VE YoU Be EN? GoOD? Yo U ArE Go OD peOPlE.
Go oD ThIn Gs SHOUl D HaPpE N T o GoOd Peop Le. And GoO D EnDing S to Th Ose Who HAV e SuF f e Red LoN G.
N o? Y E s.
And Th E y havE SuFFer Ed, ThEse AtTa ryL. An D N oW ThEY WoU l D Be Use D aGA in?
No. So Man Y BuRNs. So ManY WA I Ls. I heAR ThE M FroM HerE.
GiVE Them To ME. Th E Y Will Be O U R BrothER s
( As quickly as Anurr interrupted, his voice disappears. A long heartbeat's silence. By the time Karsa recovers command of her own transmission sorcery, she is quieter for it, rattled. )
You... that. That disgusting creature. That... well. Well, you heard him, didn't you? You heard him. Tell me what you wish done. You cannot have it all ways. Only one answer.
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