The Messenger (messagingly) wrote in sabra_la_tau, @ 2012-01-28 22:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !badend, lady, {the doctor}, ~messenger |
Who: Whoever's still alive
Where: A crumbling arena
When: Bad end, day zero
What: [His statue is slumped on the throne, sand trickling from his side through great cracked fingers. Red, searing light pours in from the cracks in the ceiling. Already it's nearly too hot to bare and the temperature is rising quickly.]
My, wasn't that bracing. Though I confess, myself, I'm feeling a little unbraced.
Duckies, if you have wishes, you had best make them quickly. I've little power left and less time. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave god, as it were.