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Lukos stood in the center of an impossibly huge room. He assumed it was square but there was no way to tell. The edges of the room were shadows in the distance and he knew without trying that he would never reach them. Around and above him was soft illumination but he could not divine its source no matter where he looked. The light simply was.
“The fuck?” he whispered under his breath.
Rows upon rows upon rows of pillars ran the length of the room. On each pillar’s top perched a vase. Though the pillars were uniform and in neat lines, criss crossing the room so that he would not be able to go forwards, backwards, or sideways without meeting one, the vases occupying these white columns were random. Some were the as tall and broad as a man. Some were the size of his fist. Others were skinny and some were wider than the pillar they stood on.
He’d never imagined that a world like this existed; comprised only of a stone room with pillars and vases.
All at once he became aware of a presence. Someone else was here too. Spinning around, he thought he saw someone but came face to vase instead. The thing tipped and smashed onto the floor in a thousand pieces. The deafening sound reverberated as though the eternal room was an echochamber.
“Hello?” he called, finally removing his hands from his ears as the shattering sound died away and silence returned once more.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Lukos stood in the center of an impossibly huge room. He assumed it was square but there was no way to tell. The edges of the room were shadows in the distance and he knew without trying that he would never reach them. Around and above him was soft illumination but he could not divine its source no matter where he looked. The light simply was.
“The fuck?” he whispered under his breath.
Rows upon rows upon rows of pillars ran the length of the room. On each pillar’s top perched a vase. Though the pillars were uniform and in neat lines, criss crossing the room so that he would not be able to go forwards, backwards, or sideways without meeting one, the vases occupying these white columns were random. Some were the as tall and broad as a man. Some were the size of his fist. Others were skinny and some were wider than the pillar they stood on.
He’d never imagined that a world like this existed; comprised only of a stone room with pillars and vases.
All at once he became aware of a presence. Someone else was here too. Spinning around, he thought he saw someone but came face to vase instead. The thing tipped and smashed onto the floor in a thousand pieces. The deafening sound reverberated as though the eternal room was an echochamber.
“Hello?” he called, finally removing his hands from his ears as the shattering sound died away and silence returned once more.
Lukos stood in the center of an impossibly huge room. He assumed it was square but there was no way to tell. The edges of the room were shadows in the distance and he knew without trying that he would never reach them. Around and above him was soft illumination but he could not divine its source no matter where he looked. The light simply was.
“The fuck?” he whispered under his breath.
Rows upon rows upon rows of pillars ran the length of the room. On each pillar’s top perched a vase. Though the pillars were uniform and in neat lines, criss crossing the room so that he would not be able to go forwards, backwards, or sideways without meeting one, the vases occupying these white columns were random. Some were the as tall and broad as a man. Some were the size of his fist. Others were skinny and some were wider than the pillar they stood on.
He’d never imagined that a world like this existed; comprised only of a stone room with pillars and vases.
All at once he became aware of a presence. Someone else was here too. Spinning around, he thought he saw someone but came face to vase instead. The thing tipped and smashed onto the floor in a thousand pieces. The deafening sound reverberated as though the eternal room was an echochamber.
“Hello?” he called, finally removing his hands from his ears as the shattering sound died away and silence returned once more.
It felt cold on her skin. Not that Persephone could blame the temperature of the room for such a sensation. The vast space before her - stretching out as far as the eye could see and beyond - actually help itself to a moderate level of cool. But she had woken in the place dressed in the last thing she had been wearing back home - a gossamer gown that she had worn to a noble dinner that evening and had - she now assumed - fallen asleep in?
For this was a dream, was it not?
Wrapping her bare arms around her middle, she noticed a few bumps in her skin, but again it was not from cold. It felt cold. But it was more from a feeling of detachment and heightened sensitivities. The room was so vast it was almost imposing. Like it pulled her from all directions, her skin tingling with the demands.
Moving around one of the thousands of columns that lined the place in accurate precision angles - for she assumed the room was square to contain the grid pattern of alabaster towers, Persephone saw only more of the same. She frowned as she looked towards the top of each pillar to spy the different vases and vessels atop each. They would be the only way to work out a means out of here. They were the only thing different across the chamber. They would have to be the points of framework for negotiating safe passage without repeating oneself or getting lost.
Unless one just walked in a very straight line.
But she didn't really need to escape, did she? This was a dream, no?
But the more she looked around, felt the shift of her gown against her legs, felt the sway of her curls bouncing in front of each ear and felt that cloying, cold sensation against her arms, Persephone felt surer than anything that she was conscious. That this was somewhere she had been spirited to. Perhaps by the Gods? Or perhaps she had been killed in her sleep? The new future Queen murdered in her bed? And now she was here? Was this what Olympus was supposed to look like?
If so, she was hardly impressed.
It was as she was walking, spinning a little as she did so to try and get her balance, that there was an almighty crash from far to her left. her head spun, the black locks of her hair following and a hand came up to her chest as she was surprised. A call from someone rang out after the smashing noise and Persephone instinctively took a step backwards.
She had never been anywhere that she was no familiar without guards and protectors surrounding her. And the voice had been male. No telling what kind of person was here, in this place.
Then again, after her initial reaction of surprise and anxiousness, Persephone's logic came to her rescue as it most often did. There was no follow up voice and the tone of question in the one she had heard indicated he was alone. There were no other noises of other beings hearing his words beyond her own. If she was just as lost and alone... perhaps he wasn't here by design either. And if that were the case... he wasn't here to harm her or anyone else.
Sucking in a breath of determination, Persephone struck out down a particular path between the columns that would lead her towards the origin of that voice.
She didn't speak out or make herself known until she could see the side of a figure, half masked from where he stood behind a column, the shattered remains of something at his feet. She looked up and noted that the vessel that should have been perched atop the pillar - as one was atop each - was missing and immediately surmised what had happened.
Walking in an open circle so as to bring the man into view without approaching closer, Persephone held her hands calmly before her pelvis, her posture correct, for it was her most comfortable position - and right now she needed a little familiarity in this strange place.
The man before her gave her none of it.
For while there was a strange sort of slipping sensation at the back of her mind that suggested she might know something of the man before her, she could not draw up a single fact or familiarity about him. Was this one of those circumstances in which she had met someone who appeared similar to him? a dejavu kind of moment? Or perhaps the room was playing tricks on her. All she knew was that the man before her was a total stranger and she had never - in her memory - seen him before.
"Hello." She answered his call belatedly, offering a polite, yet nervous, smile.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It felt cold on her skin. Not that Persephone could blame the temperature of the room for such a sensation. The vast space before her - stretching out as far as the eye could see and beyond - actually help itself to a moderate level of cool. But she had woken in the place dressed in the last thing she had been wearing back home - a gossamer gown that she had worn to a noble dinner that evening and had - she now assumed - fallen asleep in?
For this was a dream, was it not?
Wrapping her bare arms around her middle, she noticed a few bumps in her skin, but again it was not from cold. It felt cold. But it was more from a feeling of detachment and heightened sensitivities. The room was so vast it was almost imposing. Like it pulled her from all directions, her skin tingling with the demands.
Moving around one of the thousands of columns that lined the place in accurate precision angles - for she assumed the room was square to contain the grid pattern of alabaster towers, Persephone saw only more of the same. She frowned as she looked towards the top of each pillar to spy the different vases and vessels atop each. They would be the only way to work out a means out of here. They were the only thing different across the chamber. They would have to be the points of framework for negotiating safe passage without repeating oneself or getting lost.
Unless one just walked in a very straight line.
But she didn't really need to escape, did she? This was a dream, no?
But the more she looked around, felt the shift of her gown against her legs, felt the sway of her curls bouncing in front of each ear and felt that cloying, cold sensation against her arms, Persephone felt surer than anything that she was conscious. That this was somewhere she had been spirited to. Perhaps by the Gods? Or perhaps she had been killed in her sleep? The new future Queen murdered in her bed? And now she was here? Was this what Olympus was supposed to look like?
If so, she was hardly impressed.
It was as she was walking, spinning a little as she did so to try and get her balance, that there was an almighty crash from far to her left. her head spun, the black locks of her hair following and a hand came up to her chest as she was surprised. A call from someone rang out after the smashing noise and Persephone instinctively took a step backwards.
She had never been anywhere that she was no familiar without guards and protectors surrounding her. And the voice had been male. No telling what kind of person was here, in this place.
Then again, after her initial reaction of surprise and anxiousness, Persephone's logic came to her rescue as it most often did. There was no follow up voice and the tone of question in the one she had heard indicated he was alone. There were no other noises of other beings hearing his words beyond her own. If she was just as lost and alone... perhaps he wasn't here by design either. And if that were the case... he wasn't here to harm her or anyone else.
Sucking in a breath of determination, Persephone struck out down a particular path between the columns that would lead her towards the origin of that voice.
She didn't speak out or make herself known until she could see the side of a figure, half masked from where he stood behind a column, the shattered remains of something at his feet. She looked up and noted that the vessel that should have been perched atop the pillar - as one was atop each - was missing and immediately surmised what had happened.
Walking in an open circle so as to bring the man into view without approaching closer, Persephone held her hands calmly before her pelvis, her posture correct, for it was her most comfortable position - and right now she needed a little familiarity in this strange place.
The man before her gave her none of it.
For while there was a strange sort of slipping sensation at the back of her mind that suggested she might know something of the man before her, she could not draw up a single fact or familiarity about him. Was this one of those circumstances in which she had met someone who appeared similar to him? a dejavu kind of moment? Or perhaps the room was playing tricks on her. All she knew was that the man before her was a total stranger and she had never - in her memory - seen him before.
"Hello." She answered his call belatedly, offering a polite, yet nervous, smile.
It felt cold on her skin. Not that Persephone could blame the temperature of the room for such a sensation. The vast space before her - stretching out as far as the eye could see and beyond - actually help itself to a moderate level of cool. But she had woken in the place dressed in the last thing she had been wearing back home - a gossamer gown that she had worn to a noble dinner that evening and had - she now assumed - fallen asleep in?
For this was a dream, was it not?
Wrapping her bare arms around her middle, she noticed a few bumps in her skin, but again it was not from cold. It felt cold. But it was more from a feeling of detachment and heightened sensitivities. The room was so vast it was almost imposing. Like it pulled her from all directions, her skin tingling with the demands.
Moving around one of the thousands of columns that lined the place in accurate precision angles - for she assumed the room was square to contain the grid pattern of alabaster towers, Persephone saw only more of the same. She frowned as she looked towards the top of each pillar to spy the different vases and vessels atop each. They would be the only way to work out a means out of here. They were the only thing different across the chamber. They would have to be the points of framework for negotiating safe passage without repeating oneself or getting lost.
Unless one just walked in a very straight line.
But she didn't really need to escape, did she? This was a dream, no?
But the more she looked around, felt the shift of her gown against her legs, felt the sway of her curls bouncing in front of each ear and felt that cloying, cold sensation against her arms, Persephone felt surer than anything that she was conscious. That this was somewhere she had been spirited to. Perhaps by the Gods? Or perhaps she had been killed in her sleep? The new future Queen murdered in her bed? And now she was here? Was this what Olympus was supposed to look like?
If so, she was hardly impressed.
It was as she was walking, spinning a little as she did so to try and get her balance, that there was an almighty crash from far to her left. her head spun, the black locks of her hair following and a hand came up to her chest as she was surprised. A call from someone rang out after the smashing noise and Persephone instinctively took a step backwards.
She had never been anywhere that she was no familiar without guards and protectors surrounding her. And the voice had been male. No telling what kind of person was here, in this place.
Then again, after her initial reaction of surprise and anxiousness, Persephone's logic came to her rescue as it most often did. There was no follow up voice and the tone of question in the one she had heard indicated he was alone. There were no other noises of other beings hearing his words beyond her own. If she was just as lost and alone... perhaps he wasn't here by design either. And if that were the case... he wasn't here to harm her or anyone else.
Sucking in a breath of determination, Persephone struck out down a particular path between the columns that would lead her towards the origin of that voice.
She didn't speak out or make herself known until she could see the side of a figure, half masked from where he stood behind a column, the shattered remains of something at his feet. She looked up and noted that the vessel that should have been perched atop the pillar - as one was atop each - was missing and immediately surmised what had happened.
Walking in an open circle so as to bring the man into view without approaching closer, Persephone held her hands calmly before her pelvis, her posture correct, for it was her most comfortable position - and right now she needed a little familiarity in this strange place.
The man before her gave her none of it.
For while there was a strange sort of slipping sensation at the back of her mind that suggested she might know something of the man before her, she could not draw up a single fact or familiarity about him. Was this one of those circumstances in which she had met someone who appeared similar to him? a dejavu kind of moment? Or perhaps the room was playing tricks on her. All she knew was that the man before her was a total stranger and she had never - in her memory - seen him before.
"Hello." She answered his call belatedly, offering a polite, yet nervous, smile.