Sabra La Tau

Who: Slick and such
Where: Vulpecula then Lacerta
When: Day 198, late morning
What: deliveries and dates

[KNOCKNOCK]

Who: Everyone
Where: Everywhere
When: Day 198, evening
What:

[Suddenly, whatever you were doing, whatever your current physical state, you can feel it. It is a Call, but like none you’ve ever felt. In the arena lies the truth. A secret stifled for thousands of years now demands to be told. It resonates with something inside you, and you feel the pull.

It’s hard to hold in your mind to any thought but that need. Incapacitated teammates will need to be assisted. Everyone must be there.

You cannot look away from it. You cannot look away from Him.

You must go to the Arena. She will show you the truth.]

((Please to consider this your pre-Mingle mingling post. :) Characters may gather and chat on their way to the arena. Rabi can weep his bitter, useless Madagascar tears. Those who are FEELING THE COSMOS will feel these effects much more strongly, but everyone will to some extent feel the compulsion to go. At 8PM EST, everyone arrives at the Arena, and the :) may begin in earnest.))

Who: Ophiuchus, blanks in need of rations and instruction in new rules
Where: ALL the dorms
When: Day 198, morning (or whenever those Ophi get around to it)
What: Special delivery!

((for general early 198 threadings! Put your location in your subject, etc, you know the drill....))

[Once again, that strange patchwork of light and reality bathes the arena. Deep, impenetrable darkness wars with scattered rays of light, illuminating tiny slices of some seemingly unconnected scenery. Here a patch of lush, bluish tinged grass is warmed by the sun and blown by the breeze. There half of a delicate stone fountain is bathed in the first morning light... And over there you see a strange, fuzzy creature skittering and scrambling up a sheer rock face, ducking nervously in and out of shadows.

Scenes like this are scattered throughout the entire Arena without any sense of rhyme or reason... But as you walk further, you find yourself having to step on or around more and more thread. Fourteen shades of fine thread loop, scatter and tangle, condensing and congregating below the throne... leading to fourteen looms, each with a primitive, fuzzy picture coming into view, line by line- starting with the sky at the top.

When you look directly at the throne, it seems empty. It is only out of the corners of your eyes do you catch fleeting glimpses... sometimes fingers twined with thread... sometimes a face: matured with age, but warm and kindly.]

W... d...seek.... ?

Who: You
Where: Various
When: Now
What:

Your eyes open, as you wake up again, back home, in your bed. The sun is shining -- another bright morning. The night's dreams fade quickly, gone before they can be remembered; but it's a new day, you've got things to do, time to wake up.

Dawn has already left, and the Old Woman shines bright in the sky.