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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 7, 2015 21:34:44 GMT
She stopped walking. "No no. He said. He was glad they got rid of the stupid clown ... This is not good."
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 8, 2015 7:21:04 GMT
Allbrass turned and gave her a curious look.
"Maybe he just missed it in the dark Maybe he didn't. We'll have to worry about that another time."
What was it about clowns?
"There's nothing funny about a clown in the moonlight," he quoted, "But for now we're in the winter. Let's keep an eye out for anything that might explain what happened."
He led the way toward the woodland which seemed a long way off and took a longer time to draw closer. The winter was hard going even for the three magicians with all the magic they could bring to bear on the elements. There was no sign of life until, with the woodland still a mile or so off, a cloud of dark birds took to the air from the trees and exploded into the pale sky like wicked knowing shrapnel bursting from a shell. Even at this distance their raucous cawing could be heard, a malevolent challenge it seemed.
Allbrass stopped dead.
"Something disturbed those birds," he said, "something dangerous." It was an instinct honed by years in the field.
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 8, 2015 11:23:22 GMT
"I can look ahead. I'm much faster one four legs than on two." It would be warmer too, she couldn't help but think.
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 8, 2015 11:25:20 GMT
"Be careful," Allbrass warned her, probably needlessly. They were all aware of the dangers.
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 8, 2015 11:51:09 GMT
She nodded and shrank down before heading off towards where the birds had flown up.
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 8, 2015 12:08:54 GMT
Marie drew her wand, ready to be attacked any moment, and followed Marisa at her own human pace.
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 9, 2015 7:22:53 GMT
As did Allbrass. The cat soon outpaced them though leaving him practically alone with Marie.
"It's... good to see you again," he said gruffly. This was the first private conversation they had time for since meeting again. "Always seems to be on one battlefield or another."
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 9, 2015 10:24:08 GMT
"It's been too long. Not this ..." She gestured around her at the frostlands. "Us. The group. We should meet under peaceful circumstances some time." They weren't likely to. It wasn't in their nature. What was there tp talk about when all was quiet?
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Post by Hugo Allbrass on Jun 9, 2015 11:20:14 GMT
"We should,"
He knew they would not. People like them never stopped moving long enough to meet at a moment of stillness. He'd lost count of the number of Auf Wiedersehens that had become, without him realising it, goodbyes. The simple "See you around," that became a silence of a couple of days, a week, some months, and then drifted into "someone I used to know." Each one left a hole, a gap in the life, but it was easier to keep moving than to stop and see how much they were bleeding.
"After this, we'll arrange it. All of us. We'll go to Paris or something."
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Post by In The Woods on Jun 9, 2015 11:23:28 GMT
Marisa entered the edge of the woodland, where the birds had flown from. Some of them had returned now warily, black smudges of suspicion and feathers lurking in bare branches, watching and hating.
And there in the clearing a dreadful figure, human but barely so, emaciated and entombed within the living wood of a wizened black tree, a stump of a thing, lacking branches. The figure's limbs emerged from the bark, its face was partially overgrown by wood and bark and it was gnawing at the wood and spitting out the pulp just to keep breathing.
"hell... hell... hell..." it was gasping in between bites.
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 9, 2015 11:27:41 GMT
Marisa was human again in a heart beat. He was saying, help, right? Had to be, either way, she couldn't let it suffocate. She began pulling at the bark.
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Post by The Woods on Jun 9, 2015 12:09:47 GMT
The man, the thing, entombed in the tree suddenly became aware of her and its pale eyes focussed on her, its face contorting in agony.
"Hell! We are in hell!" it screamed, "Don't touch me! Don't! The birds took flight when I was sent here. How many centuries has it been?"
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 9, 2015 12:12:48 GMT
She pulled her hands back..."the birds took off a few minutes ago. It hasn't been..." Of course, it could feel like longer for him.
"Let me get you out of there."
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Post by The Tree on Jun 9, 2015 12:19:33 GMT
The wood seemed to grow back as fast as it was gnawed or pulled away. The captive shook his head as much as he could.
"no, no, do not interfere. It is my damnation, my punishment, I..."
His eyes widened
"I hear the voice of the wood, the wood hears the voice of the land and the deep stones of the earth, I hear them. They speak of you, Marisa Catsister, they speak of you and your companions, of the witch and of the lion, they speak of all these things and they tremble."
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 9, 2015 12:22:38 GMT
"Punishment for what?" She waved her wand and muttered a spell, meaning to slow the growth of the bark, to help him breathe so he could talk.
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