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12:48 AM
[ Today is a day where most would be at risk of oversleeping.The dome lies dark like in the dead of night. The sun hasn’t risen today, streetlights casting a dull yellow glow and occasionally flickering out into nothing, only to spark back to life a moment later. There is no electric flicker from the kiosk. The Wardens are still. The wardens are silent.
The dome isn’t silent. There is a rustling of leaves, a snapping of twigs. Claws, scraping against concrete. The inhuman screech of an animal in peril, an animal hunting, an animal hunted. A screech that promises sharp claws and sharper teeth and blood.
The dome isn’t still either. There is something moving, thick as a shadow, tangible as a chill down your spine. Something that doesn’t belong here, something that snuck in when no one was looking. A boogeyman under the bed. A ghost in the closet. A will o’ the wisp, blinking in and out of existence under the flickering streetlights. Whatever it is it’s moving, leaving a trail of cold, dead fear wherever it passes. Something dark. A shadow so pitch black that it blots out the very lights in your heart, dragging your fears out screaming and kicking, reducing even the strongest, toughest man to a blubbering baby.
Perhaps best to stay in bed today, Marina. ]
((OOC: Event information HERE. We ask the winners of the raffle to fill out a simple survey and then tag into the Vapor thread HERE! Happy mingling, Marinanites! ))
The dome isn’t silent. There is a rustling of leaves, a snapping of twigs. Claws, scraping against concrete. The inhuman screech of an animal in peril, an animal hunting, an animal hunted. A screech that promises sharp claws and sharper teeth and blood.
The dome isn’t still either. There is something moving, thick as a shadow, tangible as a chill down your spine. Something that doesn’t belong here, something that snuck in when no one was looking. A boogeyman under the bed. A ghost in the closet. A will o’ the wisp, blinking in and out of existence under the flickering streetlights. Whatever it is it’s moving, leaving a trail of cold, dead fear wherever it passes. Something dark. A shadow so pitch black that it blots out the very lights in your heart, dragging your fears out screaming and kicking, reducing even the strongest, toughest man to a blubbering baby.
Perhaps best to stay in bed today, Marina. ]
((OOC: Event information HERE. We ask the winners of the raffle to fill out a simple survey and then tag into the Vapor thread HERE! Happy mingling, Marinanites! ))