Eyes on the future [PK]

[SpodoKaiba 607]

Wearing his old sweater for comfort, the man finally closed off the circle of salt in his office, and pushed himself back up to his feet, flicking his wrist and dispersing the now empty jar. He looked down at his handiwork as he ran through his mental checklist. Circle, check. Sigils, check. Food and water, check. Emergency boat, check. Just one more loose end to clear up. 

A letter is left behind in the Mage’s Guild hall, eventually to make its way into the hands of the Archamge(s). As is tradition, the entire thing is written in green crayon. 

“This is primarily for Zahrer, but I guess it’s applicable to Eliza, too. The main point is; I’m leaving, and if all goes well, I’m not coming back. The reason is; I don’t need to. I’ve always felt obliged to make sure the future is secure, that I left this place better off than it was. Thing is, I’m pretty comfortable with how things are looking right now. The few concerns I had, about things that I could change, have essentially all been calmed lately. I’m really happy with how the future generation is set up. You’ve all done great. 

That’s all I really wanted to say, I guess. Thanks for sticking with me this far. Keep it real. Zahrer, you’re in charge of Mesarthim”

Steven Vega Novokain Valnelis Naromis Iyliar Regis” 

With that taken care of, he was back in his office, stepping into the center of the ring of salt. Sitting down, he began to chant. Where one might expect doubts or concerns to run through his mind, there were none. And as he reached the last verse, a little smile crossed his face. One last phrase did run through his mind as he wondered where chance was going to take him, sigils alighting and blinding the room. His brother’s voice. 

“Go with the flow, Steven.” 

 

Spoiler

ooc: wowza!! there he goes!! does he survive? nobody will ever know because he wouldn't come back anyway

i love this funny sweater guy with all my heart, but his arc on lotc has long since run its course, time for both him and myself to move on 

bye bye green boy!!!!! 

 

[Gladuos 857]

Somewhere, at some point in time, an elven man in brown robes was smiling. "Go free, my friend."

[DahStalker 2842]

  A possibility was gone forever. The possibility of knowing the past was revoked. The possibility of what if taken. 

  There was no regret nor anger that filled the veins of that unfortunate Izalith. There was no fury or knowing, for ignorance flooded her. And yet the bittersweet fragment of possibility slowly washed away with time. 

  She would create her own stories, just as Steven Vegas had. 

______________________________________________________

Somewhere in these chaotic realms lived a man on a farm, dressed in red as it granted him his charm.

His name shortened was in-fact Tom, but he didn't mind if you called him Thomas, just like his mom.

He baked and baked his heart's content. And with him was a pair of children; one old and one young. And sometimes the elf named Thomas Vegas would look out his window and think of his beloved father, who set him free years ago. And now with a family of his own and a story to call his own, he could only smile. Mundane and simple as it should be.

[Whiplash 464]

A cold wind blew over a forgotten grave.

[ToodIes 1188]

[!] The constituent fragments of a long-lost soul, eternally rollicking in agony in the Soul Stream, somehow feel worse for a second or two.

 

[!] Faeryel looks out at the sea, thinking of a long-gone port and a man she knew. She smiles, before turning away to continue her work. 

[Vindicant 641]

"You were loved," someone, somewhere murmurs. "You continue to be loved."

[Archipelego 2093]

Kasfer rants and raves to a rapt audience of unmoving pumpkins, completely unaware of the turning of time outside of his delusions.

 

But for a moment, a half breath, he frowns.

[squakhawk 7303]

Lucian Horen mulled over his posessions idly, the aged knight looking over a wrist-watch which had long stopped ticking. The glass upon it's front, cracked, and the minute-hand broken; contained only by the glass above. He wondered where that clockwork maker was, now and again. In passing of thought, how long he had lived.

[garentoft 8352]

In a crimson red tent surrounded by a bed of flowers, Dirk stirred.

[Polysemic 798]

A man who's mind had been slipping cursed, "We were supposed to translocate a building," He complained.

[Luxury 601]

The letter found its way into the hands of a frenzied emerald-clad Archmage pacing deep within the Halls of Creation. She was ogling glowing arcane diagrams stretching across the walls of the stone chamber, enamored by her next breakthrough; Though a moment's respite was taken to appropriately engage the contents of Steven's letter, and eventually a smile came to rest upon Eliza's weathered features

 

"You know I will carry the torch a while longer. Pursue joy, dearest friend! You deserve that much."

The idle words filtered through the musty underground air, as though the woman felt they'd find a listener beyond it all.

 

Then a whisper to oneself... A private moment for the Archmage, certainly.

"I was wearing green before you were even conceived."

Whatever that meant...

[Thomas 3014]

"We're all stories and songs in the end," 

 

A fair haired elf uttered as he peered over the pages of the many stories which filled his library. His trail around the room had brought him to the balcony where he overlooked the setting sun, a smile setting on his features as his stark gaze turned up towards the rising moon. 

 

"Though not a single note will be forgotten of yours."