Apotolofo

Scrisa Anarion's eyes widen. ". . . Says the ******* epiphyte that has a house in Lurin?! Oh he's kill on sight now." she grumbles, calling over her wife. "JUNIPER! LOOK AT THE AUDACITY!" @Cheese1sgrater

Dear Sir, My name is Nicolette Amador. I am of thirty and one years. I consider very few people to be my friends, but of them are a retired knight, a princess, a wine-maker and my dear cos. Though I am blind, I myself am somewhat of a scholar. That being said, I have not been gifted the opportunity to experience another scholar's work, or assist them there. But I am always looking for new opportunities to learn. I have received the best education a noble of Haense may have, alongside private tutors. I have studied every book in braille I can come upon, and the ones I cannot read I ask my few friends to audiate for me. The same goes for any letters I recieve. I am well versed in the Canon writings, as well as medicine. I am an adept medic, even without my sight my hands remember what to do. The most impressive thing I've seen would have to be the miracle bestowed unto me. I have always been sickly from a young age, and in my twenties I fell extremely ill. Though I recovered, my sight had gradually left me. I was truly blind, when I began to pray to GOD. In the following years, my vision began to return. Slowly, but surely, I can now see shapes in the light. I can see brighter sources of light, such as candles and the sun. On the days when my health and GOD smile upon me, I can even see colors. I hope my lack of sight does not affect your choosing. I am often considered disabled, or at a disadvantage- I live to prove them wrong. Your letter intrigued me, for I too yearn to study life and death. My own sister died when I was but a child, she was never given the proper rites. And so, she returned to haunt me. I always wondered how life, death, whatever is in between and the spirit work together. . . Yours truly, Nicolette Arika Amador

A humble Retraction Upon speaking with the Cardinal Father Armond, I have come to the realization that my accusations were unwisely worded, and brash. I thank Father Armond for revealing to me what I had overlooked. I hope the inquisition and those loyal to GOD forgive me for my rash words. Let it be known my intention was pure, free of any disdain or resentment. I want only what GOD would want for our people- but I am young in my service to the church, and I know not what GOD would want as well as the others may. To any who agreed with my missive, I do hope that you may seek out an Inquisition member to speak with as I have. I have been enlightened, and I find myself to be closer to GOD. I formally retract my statement, Godan guide you. Signed, Nicolette Arika Amador

[!] A response was swiftly written. Addressed to the Inquisition I take no pity to the abomination that called herself an Amador, her death was rightfully executed. Something must be done to protect the sanctimony of the church. Might we speak in person, so that I may more adequately address my concerns? It would be quicker than penning letters, as I must dictate my words for another to write. I want nothing more than to understand what the inquisition does and why, should you be kind enough to enlighten me. Sincerely, Nicolette Arika Amador

A PACT OF WARMTH AND LOVE The so proclaimed "Daughter of Fire" awoke within the spirit realm, her eyes fluttering open. She found herself dressed in white, gazing at the beautiful sky above her, and the redwood trees framing the constellations. Hera rose to sitting, breathing in the salty air- she could hear the ocean's waves pounding against the shore. A grimace met her expression, for the acolyte if flame could not help but feel disdain for the waters... An ethereal nine-tailed fox beckoned her to follow, and follow she did- towards the beach, much to her dismay. But she followed anyways. Though, when her feet hit the warm sand, she smiled. Something about the ocean view, however she usually felt about, was comforting. Perhaps the sand reminded her of the deserts, perhaps the crashing of waves somehow sounded like the bubbling magma of the fire lands. But the reason was soon revealed, as she saw a figure lounged upon a boulder, a familiar figure. A friend from her past. "I am not who you think I am." The figure apologized. "I simply come to you in a form of comfort." "I am Izus. Why are you here, daughter of scales?" A wince carried across her features. "Ah- those days are over for me. They have been for a long time." A breath she then took. "I wish to spread warmth, healing, and love. Its all I've ever wanted. Your values of love, contentment, joy. . . these are all things I would teach and give. Should you give me the power to." "Hmm. . . A rare soul, you are. Not many seek power to spread love of all things." I agree. From now on- you will be my acolyte. You shall spread kindness, and love, as you do already. Build me an altar, and when it has reached its highest potential. . . Come find me again." Her eyes closed again, leaving the spiritual realm that she inhabited. Her soul returned to her body, but for now, the daughter of warmth slumbered.

THE SINS OF THE INQUISITION The inquisition protects, serving the church and serving the people. To this, there is no question. But I awoke to hear news I never thought I would hear- an unborn child, slaughtered within the church. Within consecrated, holy sanctuary was Man's will enacted, the purest of souls snuffed in an instant. Though I, Nicolette, am an Amador, I disregard my cousin-in-law as family. She has betrayed my kin, but the child-that-was never had the chance to sin, making it the purest of all souls. No where in the handbook of sins is the act of being conceived a wrong doing. But the Inquisition, on this day, have committed an ugly handful of sins within GOD's holy lands and holy house. Those sins are as follows. In the Scroll of Virtue, Canticle of Humanity, it is stated; "So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not judge your own virtue, be it great or small, for all fall short of Me." Our lord GOD makes it clear only he may pass judgement. However, this sin is one that may be forgiven, for the inquisition does what must be done in order to vanquish greater sins. For it is also stated, "The Ministry of GOD is not a body by which persecution and prejudice is born. It shall accept all races, peoples, and faiths as children of GOD, and show them His affection through tolerance, charity, mercy, and love. It shall, however, accept that the heathen and heretic are without love for GOD, and will admonish them." Secondly, the Inquisition is found guilty upon the sin of Sacrilege. Within Enchridion Peccati, or the handbook of sin, it is stated; "The sin of violating or misusing that which is sacred. Sacrilege is a direct insult to God and the Church, and often goes paired with sins like Blasphemy, Heresy or Iconoclasm. Like Blasphemy, it is based on Canticle of Faith: 8." The quote referenced here, from the canticle of faith, is as follows. "So I am the Most High, and in pursuit of My Virtue, I bid my faithful this: You shall not blaspheme My Word, nor any thing that is holy." By committing the sin of murder, for whatever virtuous and redeemable reason, within the holy space that is the church, Sacrilege of the highest degree has been committed. Murder, under GOD, is still murder. For it is written, "The sin of killing another person. Throughout the Holy Scrolls that form the Canon of our Church, we find instances of people who are guilty of the sin of Murder and are punished for this heinous crime, this affront to God. We are all part of God’s creation, for as we read in Canticle of Faith: 6, 'And I have given you life: I am your father, and the father of all things.' By killing another person we destroy part of God’s holy work, and make ourselves guilty of the sin of Murder." Once more I reference the Ministry of GOD, for "it shall accept that the heathen and heretic are without love for god, and will admonish them." For this reason, the murder of the vampyric heretic may be forgiven. But the murder of the unborn child may not be. Descendant life, no matter how small or early on, is sacred. Though some lives must be extinguished in order to preserve the greater good, no good has come from the child's death. One may ask then, What is the solution? Should the vampyr have been spared? Should it have been detained until the child's birth, what if it escaped? And so, these are all legitimate concerns. Perhaps the child's death was needed in order to enact justice. But the bidding of the crowd on this unborn child's corpse disgusts me, and in the eyes of the church should be considered a heinous sin. For is it not said that Simony is the sin of "trafficking for money in spiritual things, roles and services." To assume that someone could profit from the church's obligations is near heretical, and should be treated as such. Though there are many sides to every story, and I myself was not there to witness it all- I must take action. For is it not said that Acedia is the sin of moral sloth? Carelessness and negligence of virtue? I am by no means a sinless woman, but I know on this day that my hands and soul are clean from the sins of Acedia, Sacrilege, Simony, and Murder. Can the inquisition say the same? I pray to Saint Prince Ottomar, that he will guide the poor child's soul towards the higher seven skies. I pray to Saint Julia, that she may forgive the sins of the mother, the sins that may be forgiven. I pray too, that Saint Julia smiles over the casting out of this devil- though I fear she cries at the loss of a mother and child. GODANI guide you, dear readers. May the Inquisition's sins be forgiven. GOD and Saints guide you, Lady Nicolette Arika Amador [!]

A fellow woman of the church found herself retching into a basin, her forehead slick with sweat. She bit back tears between shuddering hurls, grieving for her unborn neice. . . Vampire's spawn or not, that child had been blood. And now- never to see the light of day. "Killed in a church!" She muttered. "Whatever happened to Sanctuary. . ." Nicolette Amador signed the lorraine o'er her chest, a prayer let out for the not even born young. . .

Scrisa Anarion, Princess of Lurin, reads the missive over her wife's shoulder. "Huh- funny, I was there for that. Its all over a rather stupid thing. . . but thats dwarves and humans for you." she says with a shrug. If Scrisa Anarion had heard this, she'd wonder who the queen was. . . they were a principality. . .

The Voidstalker uncharictaristacally gasped at such knowledge. "HOW DARE THEY!" She snatched the missive, pinning it up on a certain hidden bounty board. . .

Scrisa shrugs. "Her funeral."

Ooooh gotcha, will add more redlines for some of these!

Temporary Remedy (T2, common) Alchemist’s notes: A concoction that may be drunk or injected, intended to slow down the body’s reaction time in order to pause the spread of disease, poison, or allergic reaction. Designed with the soul purpose of stabilizing a patient until they are able to be transported to a hospital or healer, it is of little help during a fight. Recipe: Base: Aqua Vitae Water: Freezing x3 Slowness x2 Impediment x1 Curtailment x1 Effects: When ingested, the mixture causes a chilling sensation to ripple through the body. Within two emotes if drunk (1 emote if injected), the potion would fully take effect, causing a multitude of things. Blood flow would be slowed, in order to prevent poisons from spreading quickly. Upon entering the blood, the symbols would seek and latch onto toxins and pathogens, temporarily halting the effects. This stalling lasts for 10 emotes following activation, or two narrative hours. However, this ‘cure’ is not without drawbacks. After the initial ‘cooling’ sensation, one would begin to feel tired and sluggish. Dodging or parrying attacks would become much more difficult, as well as halving their usual movement. Attempted attacks would also be rendered near useless. Cannot be used more than once an IRL day. (See redlines for more details) Accompanying this fatigue would be a sensation of pins and needles all across the body, further making it improbable to take part in combat. Numbing Mist (T2, common) Alchemist notes: Oho, my toes are tingly. . . Hehehehe. . . Recipe: Base: Diddyfunkle Oil Reduction x2 Silence x1 Chaos x1 Add the signs of reduction and silence to the diddyfunkle oil, mixing steadily until brought to a boil. Add chaos, then capture the occurring steam within a bottle. Effects: Upon inhaling the steam, the person in question would start to feel light all over- as if they were floating. They would find themselves a bit giddy, possibly finding the most mundane things hilarious. Alongside this giddiness would be a numb sensation all across the body and mind, causing any pain inflicted by medical means dulled, ticklish at most. Deeper surgeries or more extreme incisions/amputations may cause true pain, but in the drug-addled state this is only found to be mildly annoying, funny even. This effect is easy to fight off, the patient needing to be willing and somewhat calm for it to work. Due to the mental effects of the drug, it is not uncommon for folks to use it in recreational means. However, frequent use will result in addiction. Addicts are prone to having injuries about themselves without knowing, as they are usually numb. They are also prone to being unable to take things seriously. Laughing Gas (T2, rare) Alchemist’s note: A concentrated version of the numbing mist, it serves as a hilarious crowd control option. Recipe: Base: Diddyfunkle Oil Reduction x4 Silence x2 Aether: Chaos x2 By doubling the amount of each symbol used, and utilizing Aether: Chaos instead of mundane chaos, one may create a combative version of this brew. This concentrated concoction may only be utilized in its gaseous form. Upon its container being opened or broken, the mist within it would expand in a near invisible cloud of up to a 3 by 3 cube. All those caught within its range would be subject to all mental effects and some physical effects, unless utilizing adequate preventative measures. The mental effects would remain more or less the same. Though feelings of anger and hostility are eased, they are not erased. They may only be eased within logical reason. (Ex, if someone under the influence of such is attacked, they are more than able to get angry and retaliate. The same applies to those currently being attacked. At most, they may attack back as if it was all a joke. This is up to the player affected.) The physical effects are somewhat decreased, as those affected are not hindered in their ability to move around or fight. If anything, it proved to be a boon for those under its effects, as they would not be able to feel pain. That being said, it is a double edged sword. For example, potentially having little to no fear in a fight, but also the potential to not even notice severe bleeding. All effects last for three emotes upon breathing in the gas. On the fourth emote, those under its influence would be able to spend an emote to shake off the effects. (Ie, if the character seeks to fight it, they may successfully do so on the fourth emote.) Spectral Skin (T3, Common) Alchemist’s notes: A concoction created to make it easier for doctors to assess internal damage! Recipe: Base: Bone marrow (any animal) Light x1 Separation x2 Clarity x3 Bring bone marrow/lard to a boil, and add light symbols. Allow the mixture to cool completely, before adding in the separation and clarity symbols. Gently stir until fully dissolved. At this point, the mixture should have taken a milky-white color. Optionally, this tincture may be mixed with Beeswax to create a topical cream. Effects: If utilizing bone marrow, the resulting brew would be akin to a serum, allowing it to be injected on the sight of the break. Within the next two emotes, the surrounding skin and flesh would take on a translucent state, all flesh, veins, tendons etc becoming see through. This by no means is invisibility. If utilizing lard as the base, the resulting concoction would have the texture of a lotion or paste. This version of the brew would allow for an easier application, though not as potent. Topical skin would become translucent, but the flesh and muscle beneath would not. That being said, it served as a useful tool when examining for damaged tendons, muscles, or simply to demonstrate to medical students the anatomy of flesh without having to resort to dissection. It would also allow for internal damage or bleeding to be seen. (Ex, applying to the torso or stomach could allow for seeing if there is any damage present to internal organs.) Special thanks to @Moonish_Imp, @Lockages, and @esotericas for their advice! And thank you to @Greehnfor the joke that ended up inspiring this entire thing. Changelog: Specified that Spectral skin may only be used on flesh, and may not be used to expose/reveal genetalia. Laughing gas range reduced to 3x3 square. Specified learning and ST signage

Lee Henna gasps! "LOCKYYY- No, no- EVERYONE!" She screeched out into the campgrounds. "WE HAVE A CARNIVAL TO ATTEND!"

Nicolette Amador hums in thought as the review was read to her. "Well, that is why ea put dear Artemis in the Amador warden outfit. . . so some blue would be in place. But vy chose wonderfully, Dona." She assures her cousin, who had helped find the dress for the blind woman. "Eam ein little sad they did niet do a seperate review for Artemis. . . she did ein very dobry job." @Cheese1sgrater

A certain blind Amador woman gremlin walks to greet her niece.

Drip. Drip. Drip. As Hera's tears dripped unto the paper. She held the letter delicately in her hands, as if to crinkle it would be a sin. Quietly, she sobbed over her old friend's death. . . No, more than that. Aldrych. Her first friend, she remembered their meeting perfectly. "Hey. Do you know how to use that?" A young girl with crystaline eyes called out to a raven haired young boy- a sword at his hip. "Wha- Yeah! Kind of! My dad's been teaching me!" The girl's eyes widened. "Can you teach me?! Please?" The boy didn't hesitate. Didn't judge the girl for wanting to fight. And he was never bitter, when she quickly suprassed him in skill- At least, if he was, he never acted on such a feeling. Merely a year or so later, they were sitting outside the Orenian Emperor's palace- hidden in the grass beneath one of the giant stained glass windows. Clutching her closest friend's hands tightly as they heard the swing of the executioners axe. The day they knew, everything would change. Aldrych, whose family went with the Royalists- And Hera, who went to Balian with hers. And yet- they never stopped seeing one another. They sent letters, he visited her in the hot deserts. They sparred, he usually lost... There was a time she thought she loved him. But that was before she realized romance would never enter her life. And even then, he was not bitter. Even then, they remained closest of friends. And when his brother tried to kill him, she'd come up with his new name. Erik. His hair dyed orange, and he lived with her family in Balian. Those were happy days, for the most part. Before it all started to go awry. "I'm sorry Aldrych." She says softly. "I should have been there for you... I'll light you a candle. One that will never go out." And that she did. A candle, alongside her flamed garden of fallen friends. "I hope I'll see you one day. Rest well, old friend."

Wordlessly, the flame-haired elfess whistled for her steed, swinging herself atop the scarlet bokolo she rode to Haense. Hera was sure the once Queen Sofia would require more comfort than ever before.

A grin passed over a certain Lady Nicolette's face as her dear cousin Liridona (@Cheese1sgrater) read the missive aloud to her. "So Ea was correct!" she crows, a self satisfied smile upon her face. "Ea hope this is niet the end of ve drama. . . This is the most entertaining thing to have happened all decade!"

I SEE YOU The cavernous voice boomed from within the angry volcano that bubbled before her. The girl squinted through the smoke, eyes and lungs stinging from the smoke that invaded her body. She glanced to her guide, who gave a nod of encouragement. Rise, Daughter of Flame. Summoning her will, she stepped forward against the roaring flames and spoke. "I am Hera." She yelled over the lava and fire. "WHAT ARE YOU?" The voice said in response- though this time it spoke with a semblance of warmth, and she felt her confidence strengthen. "I am an elf- but more than that, I am born from fire. I walked through the flames, and for a time the flames of the titan Azdromoth were mine. But those flames were not true- they were not pure." She felt a phantom pain in her arms and neck, the burning memory of such a time forever stained her soul. "WHAT DO YOU SEEK?" Hera took a breath, steadying herself. For a moment, she pondered the question for herself. What did she seek? Warmth? Fire? Smoke? "I seek your blessing. I seek control- nay, purely harmony with the flames. I've chased after it time and time again- the fire is the only place I find home in. But no pyre I find has been enough. I seek the essence of flame. The soul- the spirit of it." "THE ESSENCE OF FLAME?" The voice echoed, as the ground before her split open, magma and liquid fire burst from the earth's broken seams, swirling through the air to form into the shape of a woman. Gazing upon the lesser spirit of Flames and Smoke, Kataash, Hera could not help but feel a certain oneness with her. "SHE IS FLAME. KATAASH, SPIRIT OF FLAMES AND SMOKE." Offer her something. The Uruk beside her murmured. Hera nodded, shaking herself out of the awed stupor she had fallen into. "In return for your blessing, I would serve as your vessel. I would bring warmth to those without it, and heat to those who are cold. I have carried flames before, corrupt as they might have been. I would be your follower- should you allow me to be." "You wish to bring heat. You wish to bring warmth. Yet those are followed by my wrath. Are you prepared to BURN?" The ground shook beneath the pair, as fire surged up around them, flames licking at her skin, scalding with each brush and touch. The Uruk sent a blazing look of incredulousness at Hera, wondering what exactly she had said. As the shaman began to chant to calm the spirit, the woman could do naught but watch Kataash grow in size. And then, throughout the storm, the spirit offered her hand out to Hera. "Build me a shrine, and bring me champions. You will learn to master true flames, use it to heal and to burn. Balance will be kept." A breath of relief left the girl's smoke-filled lungs, but it was fleeting. "Now, accept my mark" Flames and smoke shot out from her outstretched hand, a funnel of burning energy descending upon the elf. But the elf with hair of fire did not run, she closed her eyes and embraced the heat. Flames engulfed her body, a few split seconds of agony enveloping her body. Before she had time to scream, the pain was gone- her nerves had been burned away. She opened her eyes and watched with a mix of fascination and horror as her flesh was turned to ash. Her muscles made into soot, her bones blackening and her eyes melting in their sockets. Thus- she was consumed. She could hear Kataash in her head, laughing like the crackle of the flames. Over, and over, and over she chanted into Hera's mind. YOU WILL BURN. ALL WILL B U R N She heaved a breath, coughing out smoke and ash that wasn't there as she was thrown back into the mortal realm. Her ears ringing, she nodded dumbly to what her spirit guide spoke. The spirit's words continued to echo in her head, and she couldn't help but wonder. . . What the hell have I done?

A rather flamboyant Li-ren hung from a wooden hoop, reading the flier displayed to her. "Flip it around" She motioned with a hand, to turn it upside down. "Ah! Oh, very good Locky! I can't wait to meet all our new friends. . ."

idfk why this singular thing is there i got rid of it T-T nm

It was morning when she knew. The sun felt warm on her skin. . . but her world was darker than ever. Nico knew this was coming- but she hadn’t realized it would be so soon. She could hear the birds tweeting good morning to the sun. She could smell the morning bread baking in the oven. She could feel the threadbare cotton sheets that threatened to fray beneath her curled fingers. She could taste the salty tears that trickled down from unseeing eyes. But she could not see. She could not see the sunflowers. She could not see her dear cousin Dona’s face when she spoke of a certain someone. She could not see the constant look of annoyance Nata always had for Nico. She could not see the music of which she longed to play upon those black and white keys. She could not see the beauty at all. She could not read the books which she adored. She could not use her rapier the way she did before. She could not walk along an unfamiliar path, or play sheet music fresh from the print. She could not see the color red. She could not watch for coming carts. She could not watch her baby brothers playing catch. She was blind. Nicolette lay in her bed, pillow soaked in a mix of sweat and tears. Hours must have passed. . . Had she slept? It was hard to tell. But she knew it was dark, for cold air passed through her open window. Shivering under the useless blankets that did nothing to warm her, and yet she was so hot. Useless eyes staring up at the roof. She grit her teeth, pushing up from where she lay. Sitting up, her hands tangled with mousy brown hair. Swiveling to hang her feet off the side of her bed, she rubbed at her face. Going to stand- only for her leg to give out from beneath her. A yelp of pain and surprise- a hiss as gloved hands rubbed at her leg. Useless gloves that always failed to keep her healthy. Useless body, that always got sick. Useless leg, growing stiffer each day. Useless eyes, nothing but ornamental now. Useless hope that her vision would return. Useless, useless, useless! Useless girl. She stiffened. Useless. Weak. Lesser. Hands rose to clamp over her ears. Outcast. Broken. Helpless. Imperfect. Mistake. But the words never stopped. For how can you silence your own voice? Useless. Weak. Lesser. Outcast. Broken. Helpless. Imperfect. Mistake. Useless. Useless. You’ll never be good enough. Always second. Always forgotten. Sick little girl, with a cane and a cough. “To relinquish yourself to darkness, Nico, is to become frail, to become without hope…” His words filled her head again, and this time, she truly listened. “The only question remains for you, are you willing to tread those dark waters?” She rose from the ground, limping towards her desk before the lantern. “The selfish often offer their gifts, for a price… Should you be willing, perhaps your prayers shall be answered.” Nico had never been one for religion. Something she rejected as ridiculous. But for the first time, she found herself praying, head bowed over clasped hands. Please… This can’t be all I am. Someone. Something. Help me. Help me. I’ll do anything. Ȧ̶̵̗̳n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘y̯̤͑́́̓́t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘g̴̶̛̮̣͙͠? A heaving gasp as the woman lurched from where she lay- when had she returned to her bed? She could hear the crickets outside her window, the leaves rustling in the moonlit wind… And she could hear… Piano. She reached out for her cane, hand flailing about aimlessly before landing on its handle. Pulling herself up from her bed, Nico stumbled forth across her room. Lifting a hand, pawing through the air before she found the door handle. She opened it, taking a step. And another step. And another. Until she reached the stairs. She laid her free hand upon the wall, beginning her descent… “AH!” A shriek left her mouth as two hands pushed her down the stairwell. She raised her hands, bracing for the wooden floor below- SPLASH Suddenly, her head was under water. Her ears filled with it, and as her face broke the surface she took gasping breaths- only to be pulled back under, salt stinging her eyes and throat. I can’t- I can’t swim! She thought frantically, clawing at the waters to no avail. My leg- I can’t swim! I can’t swim! Further into the waters did she sink, though desperately she fought. Kicking, clawing- but the waves turned her upside down, then upright- or had she been upright then turned upside down? Or had she been upside down and now she was right side up? Or- “To relinquish yourself to darkness, Nico, is to become frail, to become without hope…” Ah. I understand. Her body grew limp. She let herself sink to the sound of the piano. “The only question remains for you, are you willing to tread those dark waters?” Yes. Her fingers curled within the wet sand. She could smell the salty air, and she could hear the waves gently colliding with the shore. And still, the piano played. A broken, sad, off key tune. Beautiful, but haunting. O̵̷̪̰ͩ͆ͅp̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊y̯̤͑́́̓́ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟ There it was again. That voice. C̸̣̭͖̤̒̈͊͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ c̷̹͖͋́̃ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚s̩͙͖̋͛͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ Nicolette stood, limping though she did, she made her way towards the voice- towards the music. “Who are you? Where- where am I?” O̵̷̪̰ͩ͆ͅp̶̸̨̺͊̍̒̓̀ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ y̯̤͑́́̓́ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚û̶͙̽̿͆̈r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊y̯̤͑́́̓́ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟ “But they are open, I don’t understand-” And then- she did. She felt a cloth in her hands. She raised her arms, and tied it round her head. G̛͔͇̞̹̈̀͘͘͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜. N̰̜͉͔ͬ̽͢ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒, ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞k̶̸͙̭̹͆͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ And so, she woke. And she saw.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1usUBmqc-IgUaiI4stJMZMEin2Ka3IeUTiM9vIllg1Z4/edit Made a few