video — un: starburst.
( Hello, Eastbounders.
Once again, a dynamic and alarming duo greets you, with no better news than last time.
In fact, it doesn't seem to be an announcement at all.
The first thing the jostled communicator picks up is... a sound. Guttural, croaked, agonising. It belongs to Lady Arabella, throwing herself upon what becomes quite obviously Wrath's frame. Her mouth opens wider, and wider still, as though she might want to swallow him whole.
The sound becomes a scream, unending.
Wrath's golden gaze stares at Arabella like one might survey a mildly interesting change in the scenery — his own expression impassive as her grip tears the buttons from his shirt.
His companion, on the other hand, reacts a bit more angrily, Emilia's initial concern shifting into something more vicious. As Arabella attempts to latch on to Wrath however she can, Emilia strikes back at her, prepared for a fight. Except it never quite comes: no sooner Arabella is thrown off, she stops,
backpedaling into the communicator that turns the video black. )
NOTE: Again, the second link leads to Grudge-y things. The video is short and choppy and hectic, taking place not long after the assassination attempt on Arabella. Wrath and Emilia helped in the rescue efforts and were, uh, rewarded. For more details, feel free to read here.
Once again, a dynamic and alarming duo greets you, with no better news than last time.
In fact, it doesn't seem to be an announcement at all.
The first thing the jostled communicator picks up is... a sound. Guttural, croaked, agonising. It belongs to Lady Arabella, throwing herself upon what becomes quite obviously Wrath's frame. Her mouth opens wider, and wider still, as though she might want to swallow him whole.
The sound becomes a scream, unending.
Wrath's golden gaze stares at Arabella like one might survey a mildly interesting change in the scenery — his own expression impassive as her grip tears the buttons from his shirt.
His companion, on the other hand, reacts a bit more angrily, Emilia's initial concern shifting into something more vicious. As Arabella attempts to latch on to Wrath however she can, Emilia strikes back at her, prepared for a fight. Except it never quite comes: no sooner Arabella is thrown off, she stops,
backpedaling into the communicator that turns the video black. )
NOTE: Again, the second link leads to Grudge-y things. The video is short and choppy and hectic, taking place not long after the assassination attempt on Arabella. Wrath and Emilia helped in the rescue efforts and were, uh, rewarded. For more details, feel free to read here.

audio | un:workstormit
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When I read the handwritten note to her, she reacted as you saw. ( He turns the device toward the note to show what was written on it. dolly, back in your dollhouse. )
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This whole storming place is magical in nature, does it set no one else's teeth on edge? Not active, but it's everywhere.
( see: unknowing side effect of being a magic battery. magic sensitivity! )
So the words unlocked the response. Different phrase than what our key said.
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( Wrath does not mind feeling all the magic humming around the city. He prefers sensing that to places that would be more absent in it. That hollowness would be difficult to grapple with. )
It appears so. It's possible your key was meant for someone else entirely, but the phrase may have a similar effect.
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( take him to the hollow places, where he feels more himself than this. he sighs, a touch more of a growl than the human sense of a sigh would be. )
The possibilities are many, the knowns are few. I must have some doubt that running around telling people to wake up can be outright as violent as what you witnessed, if only because people say that normally. I don't know about you, but I have, often and readily enough.
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Beitang Moran and I were sent away with a thank you and a greased key with its own etched in phrase, also from what your lady there refused and claimed not her own. Yet someone had, as with the flowers and note, intended it to be hers. Talk about a rot.
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What was the phrase?
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( said easily, swiftly, and dryly. )
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Forgive me for not being familiar with the pastimes of children with dolls, but would you say there's nothing related? People aren't as biddable as dolls, not even well paid, unless you have them so entirely under your power. Waking up from a dream, being someone else's toy. Both asking for reactions?
( he sighs, disliking the whole of it. a headache and a half. )
Or run with the obvious, since I dislike riddles. A key to waking up. Flowers for the one playing house. Whatever you want to say, nothing about a dollhouse is real. It's all child's play, love, made up. She didn't handle being reminded of that well at all.
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Whatever I want to say?
Her confusion and fear were very real, I assure you. She cannot be reminded of something she is unaware of.
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Whatever she was in those moments is not who she believes herself to be.
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Will you tell me how things go with your key?
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