"You offend me by implying that I'm crazy! I came here to stay the night, talk, and and maybe help some people and you say that to me."
"The hospital! Whatever for, madam! I am quite healthy, thank you, and I have learned today a most marvellous magick for the closing of all wounds-- for my throat, it was slashed clean open! Behold--"
Dance our healing dance.
“The only thing sick about me is my beats.”
"I'm pretty sure the hospital would take great delight in dissecting my spleen, injecting my liver with colorful liquids, and eating my magic potato. No, this is a journey of self-discovery! Not one where some "doctor" saws open my skull to tell me that little brain worms have eaten my previous identity"
Eh, fine.
Attempt to heal our own mind. Maybe we can do something about this amnesia thing!
+1
"
You offend me by implying that I'm crazy! I came here to stay the night, talk, and and maybe help some people and you say that to me. I'm pretty sure the hospital would take great delight in dissecting my spleen, injecting my liver with colorful liquids, and eating my magic potato. No, this is a journey of self-discovery! Not one where some "doctor" saws open my skull to tell me that little brain worms have eaten my previous identity”
Before anyone can process what You just said, You go off again.
“
The hospital! Whatever for, madam! I am quite healthy, thank you, and I have learned today a most marvellous magick for the closing of all wounds-- for my throat, it was slashed clean open! Behold--”
You leap from the Bench and run to the hearth where there’s floor space for moving, and You dance. The movements come like the words of a song learned long ago returning to the lips as well as they did once before. You spin. Arms flying, ragged clothing flowing between the lights and shadows from the fire, You close Your eyes. You can feel every fibre of Your being. Deep within, in familiar depths, You find something. Your mind, not within a brain, but in a small round object floating within a void of dark blue blood. It feels wrong, even though You don’t know what ‘right’ feels like in this situation. You can’t get in. Something is blocking You. Screams emanate from within. Pain wells up inside Your mind, as emotions and instincts and broken bits all start breaking. Your own voice joins the chorus of screams, and You hit the floor.
You’re in a very small whitewashed room with a thin window at one end and a thin door at the other, with a vaulted ceiling above. You’re lying in a bed with a mattress of straw and cloth covers, a small bedside table bearing the weight of Your bag and a thin black candle that’s letting off a warm yellow glow filling the otherwise pitch black room. You don’t know when You woke up. It feels like it happened forever and two seconds ago at the same time. Magpie has come over from some unknown place of vigil and is now standing above You with a look of curiosity, confusion, and concern on His face.
‘You alright?’
Cloth bag
Metal knife
Kight metal pot
Metal lantern
Firelighter
Fistful of root vegetables: (x1.8 )
Waterskin: Mouthful of water (x10)
Smaller bag: Fistful of flour (x4)
Salt box: Pinch of salt (x?)
Black Spherical Orb
Bedroll
Plate
Half-penny of Silver (x1)
Key to a bedroom at the Brass Lantern (x1)
Dancing method
Minor Telekenesis
Healing
Author
Topic: Of Ghosts and Whispers: a Suggestion game (Read 30582 times)