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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Gomer Caitiff on January 15th, 2018, 4:43 am

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On the seventieth day of winter, 517 AV...

Within the plaza, there were a few people milling about, chattering with one another, colorful coats shrugged against the chilly winter wind. Save for their voices, the stillness of the snow seemed to soak up the common sounds of the city, and it made for a lonesome, empty atmosphere. The buildings that surrounded the plaza seemed to be homes that had been vacated for the day, some wooden others glass, but all hollow.

Thus, when a man's clear tenor broke the silence, it was no surprise that the few gathered stopped what they were doing to stare with a mix of confusion and entertainment at the spectacle unfolding before them. Clad smartly in what seemed to be an expensively tailored set of formal clothes, a dark haired man with bright, eager eyes thrust himself into the plaza, his legs sweeping the snow out of his way with wide dramatic strokes, arms outstretched to either side of him. None of the observers had seen where he'd come from, but it was difficult not to smile at the seeming abandon with which he moved and sang.

"And all I want to be,
Is someone who sees,
Falsely accused,
Just walking free!"

Whipping around in a tight spin, the man grabbed a young man standing near him by the shoulders, pulling him close, his vibrato growing more intense.

"And I hope
you will agree..."

Without missing a beat, the young man who, up until a tick before had had an amused panic on his face, burst out in an even but equally confident, "Oh, I sure agree-" Holding the last note out as he and the dark haired man took a step out the side, their closest hands clasped together and farthest extended out to either side.

Together, the finished the verse, both grinning widely at the other. "A lawyer he will be."

Those who had started the show in good spirit began to look nervously around, especially the small group of now two people from which the man had been drawn. There was a quiet, unsettled worry, and several of the more weathered Alvads hurried off down a side street. Those who were not quite so quick found themselves joining in with the dance, their bodies moving, seeming, of an alien volition.

A woman who had previously been giggling at the second man who had joined in now rushed to the forefront, leading the growing group of dancers with a waggle of her shoulders and splayed palms.

"Now I know you're thinking..."

Her voice trailed off as she spun off to the side, replaced by a severe looking Akalak who stomped in beat to the front.

"There's no courthouse around."

His voice was a deep base, his head shaking a dramatic side to side. He, in turn, was shoved aside by the second man to sing, face bright with a knowing smile.

"But these things will come to order,
We can build one from the ground!"

Bowing low as the first man burst fourth from the now seven others who danced in a synchronized, arm waving march to some unheard beat, his tenor ran high and smooth, grabbing the first Akalak and a second by their shoulders and hoisting himself up between them.

"Right now a dream,
But I know that we can,
All of us together..."

And in one booming chorus, they all rushed forward, down the street, boisterously joining in and breaking down into a looser formation, their movements exaggerated but still on beat with their song.

"All he wants to be,
Is someone who sees,
Falsely accused,
Just walking free!
And we hope,
You will agree..."

As they held out the note, more passersby where pulled into the whirling, brightly smiling chorale of singers and dancers, each looking similarly panicked for a tick before joining right in with gusto to spare, matching their peers and seeming to have no issue with having never heard the song nor lyrics before.

"A lawyer he will be!"



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Having been wandering around the city for the past bell or two, Gomer settled down on a bench, his frost nipped cheeks and nose a pleasant cherry red as he happily surveyed the scene before him. Though the initial wonder of snow had worn off long before the season had even started, he still appreciated the stark contrast it gave to the city's other illusions, like a blank canvas that allowed the colors to pop out all the more.

Of those illusions, he spotted what looked to be a parade, though there were several people running out ahead of at an impressive pace. As they neared, he realized that the look on their faces was one terror, and he quickly rose up from his bench, waving to get the attention of one them. All the man said as he rushed by was a frenzied, "Run!"

By that time, however, it was a tick too late. Gomer felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist as the parade's song seemed end, spinning into the person's chest in a tight embrace before he was released, staggering into the center of the small square he'd stopped to rest in. At first, he stared confused at the eager faces gathered around, all of which had began to hum a low, constant note.

"I apologize. I'm a little confused...
What exactly is that you want from me?"

Though, in a way, it was what he had meant to say, there was rhythm to it that was not his own. Eyes widening for a just a moment as he felt himself draw in a deep, preparatory breath, he immediately regretted his curiosity and wished, instead, he had fled when he had the chance.

"All of you here,
You don't know me.
It's fine, I'm no one,
As you surely see.
I barely know who I am,
But I just want to be free!"

Starting low and rising with intensity, Gomer's typically uncertain baritone had no question of confidence, and while his tone was off and his voice happened to crack as he held the final "free", his arms spread out the side and his face made a dramatic, pleading expression as he gazed up into the sky. Those around him had begun an acapella accompaniment, some of them a bit more in tune than others, but all participating with zeal.

"My mother died,
I feel I am to blame,
Even though brother helps,
I feel insane!
I stay busy and try not to think,
For I just want to be free!"

The crowd swelled, their voices joining in with his as he stepped forward, grand gestures to either side of him as he continued, unable to keep his mouth shut.

"I am worthless and useless and crumby.
I am weak and pathetic and plain."

In a brief moment he was free and he frantically glaced around, locking eyes with a short, dark haired woman and shouted a frantic, "Help me!" before continuing his verse once more, face reapplying the tragic expression as he dashed forward toward the woman, kneeling at her feet and taking her hand in his, a silent I'm so sorry. running through his mind.

The chorale joined in on Gomer's final lines, echoing each quietly as he drew into a crescendo.

"I use laughs, and a mask,
To hide my pain!"

Then, they all fell quiet, expectantly staring up at the woman, all semblance of music stopped. Though he wanted to blush deep red with the knowledge that he'd just shared a part of his history with a group of strangers that he'd never shared with anyone else, he couldn't help himself from the pressing thought, I wonder if she'll keep on with mine or start her own?

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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Allassanachassanya on January 17th, 2018, 10:30 pm

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70th Winter 517AV
"Speech"


She knew she was in trouble even before the stranger had taken her hand. The manic, singing crowd was already drawing steam and Ssanya could only stare as the participants danced and whirled and sang in pitches both off-key and off-beat but still somehow keeping together. It could only be a trick of Ionu's, one that she tried (in vain) to ignore. But it was just too juicy. She peered curiously at the singing man who had unfortunately been snared by this latest folly of the city. He was handsome, if that was your type, and had a ridiculously exaggerated expression on his face. Ssanya ignored the man's plea, "Help me!", and instead began to walk away to escape his fate, but it was not to be. The crowd swelled as she desperately tried to look for an escape, but there was none. She tried to push past people, even going to murmur a quiet, "Excusse me," but there was no use. Unless she was willing to hurt someone she was stuck. A stranger took her firmly by the shoulders and twisted her around until she had stumbled to a halt in front of the brown-haired man, who was now kneeling. A curious bubble was welling in her throat, but she was distracted by the silence that befell the crowd. Why were they...?

The man took her hand.

She stared at him, aghast. The song burst to the surface.

"I'm half-human, half-sssnake and I love death,
I think corpsses are great, who doessn't?
If ever there'ss murder or famine or drought,
I'll be there in half a sshout!"

"If ever you need ssome protection,
I don't sstand a chance against mossst,
I might even look very frrrrrightening,
But I can't even kill jussst a mousssse."


Ssanya yanked the man up by the hand, and the two exchanged a panicked look. What in petching hai was going on? Ssanya could feel the heat spiking her cheeks from her unwilling personal blathering, and could only hope that her terrible singing masked the worse truths. It wasn't even all particularly truthful though, which was the worse of it. Or, it was true, but exaggerated in much the same way she suspected the stranger was being forced to.

"If there'ss one thing I fear it isss failure,
That I won't get much done at all,
Becaussse I too am usseless and sstupid,
And I can't even keep one good job!"


She groaned, and whirled into an awkward, lilting, terrible waltz, clasped tight and firm to the man who she didn't even know. His own song echoed through her head, making her wonder what on earth he'd done, but her own rhyme was worse for her, and she hoped to whichever god or goddess would hear her that whatever lawkeepers of the city didn't think to ask questions about a half-human, haf-snake woman who loved death and murder. She groaned again, and although her body was spinning against her will and she could only speak through gritted teeth, she muttered to the man, "Pleasse tell me you have ssome kind of plan."

Around the edge of the circle, the mob seemed to be disappaiting slowly however. They kept spinning, humming a tune that they shared awkwardly between them until it was just the two of them. The crowd had gone, ran as fast as they could in case they got singled out, and now Ssanya finally felt a measure of control. She sprang back and away from the stranger, and sank onto her knees, face in her hands as she tried to decide what to do. Should she run? Should she hide her face? It seemed so ridiculously inane and well, ridiculous, that her well-kept secrets had only been (willingly) shared with Madeira and now what felt like the whole of Alvadas, completely unwillingly. She couldn't help but swear, loudly through the hands clasped over her face, "Petch you, Ionu."
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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Gomer Caitiff on January 18th, 2018, 4:20 am

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When she began, Gomer found himself oo-ing and ah-ing along in accompaniment. He was drawn up by both her hand and the same force that seemed to have hijacked their free will, and he began to circle her, stepping to the beat of her song.

His thoughts still very much his own, even as he echoed a playful, "Not I!" to her "...who doessn't?" Gomer was split between surprise at the rather macabre subject matter and relief that he wasn't the only box without a lid. Thus, when they brought their faces close, his swam with a mix of confusion, amusement, and a light sprinkling of fear.

As they twirled into an awkward waltz with their heights so drastically different, Gomer imagined her feet just barely touching the cobbles below him, his arms wrapped firmly around her body. It was, by far, the least unpleasant thing, and that was only in comparison, as he felt himself clumsily plod on through the instinctual choreography, pulling her close to his chest before taking a step back and spinning her by raising their linked hands above her head.

She seemed to manage a literal hissing plea, but Gomer, mouth closed and humming merrily through his nose, was unable to reply - not that he would have had anything comforting to say. The illusion had taken its hold, and while the street began to empty, he wasn't sure it meant that it was also the end for them.

When she was finally able to break free, Gomer felt his own body finally respond. Without her couter-weight to his, he was thrown off balance and stumbled backward with a final "La!" before he hit the ground, breathing heavily, shoulders rising and falling, finally free.

Blinking in relief, Gomer opened his mouth to offer a word of comfort, but in one last bellowing baritone, the last of the illusion seemed to burst forth from him like a final encore in the Playhouse. "And petch you too!" The last word was held out in his weary vibrato, just a half step off key, and when it was over, Gomer's face had since turned a bright, tomato red.

Relatively certain the last thing the small woman wanted was draw any more attention to her morbid interests or their shared joke of a sense of worth, he cleared his throat, making sure his voice was his own, before he leaned forward, legs bent and arms casually resting on his knees. "Think I was bit pitchy."

He offered a polite smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. The song he'd sung had been half-truths, things he thought and things that had happened, but mixed with a musical narrative to make them... more. Even though he'd managed his feelings about his mother a bit better with his brother's help and been working on finding his place in the world, he couldn't help but feel somewhat regressed.

It wasn't too difficult to empathize with the dark haired woman across from him. Pushing himself to his feet, Gomer brushed himself off. He didn't really want to talk about what he'd sung - he imagined the woman was much the same - but he did want to ask her some questions. His curiosity ever overpowering, he kept his distance respectful, but his eyes glimmered with intrigue. "I'm certain Ionu is quite please with itself. People are much more fun when they're making fools of themselves. In song." The addendum was more of a grumbling mutter to himself and the deity than for the woman's benefit.

"Though," Offering her an out, Gomer winked, his smile impish and playful. "I am relieved it was just nonsense. It would have been mortifying if I'd been forced to share actual truths about myself." He shook his head, tutting at the thought but smiling all the same.
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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Allassanachassanya on January 24th, 2018, 10:48 pm

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"Speech"


He was a charming man. That was what she thought.
A charming man who was a good liar. Because he had to be lying, didn't he, otherwise why had she been forced to spew whatever half-formed truths were lying around her brain and he hadn't? She straightened from her slouched position and sat up as neat as she could on the damp pave stone. Her eyes narrowed up at the stranger. But, with his quirky smile still lingering, she didn't disagree with him.

"Ionu - thisss god iss a tricky one." Ssanya stood up to join the man as they lingered on the street. What should they do now? After all, she didn't know this man, and had no inclination to pass pleasantries with him. But neither of them moved from their spot. Perhaps it was the forced introduction that left them with more questions than answers, questions that Ssanya couldn't figure out how to phrase in case she broke the 'those lyrics were naught but make-believe' lie.

Against her better judgement, she was about to speak up and ask the man at least what his name was, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed a flickering movement. It was the movement of tailcoats turning a corner, although she didn't exactly know that. Her paranoia, deeply ingrained after several cities of having to reign in her magic practice and indeed her very nature, twitched alive. A shiver of cold panic slid down her spine, and she forgot about lying.

"There wasss a man, there." She pointed in the direction she'd spotted, around the corner of a delicate blossom of a building, and flashed a glance at the stranger. Indescision pulled her one way and then the other. Shouldn't she make sure the man never spoke of her habits again? Or should she follow the tailcoated stranger, of whom she was sure had been listening in on their sing song conversation?

Petch it.

She grabbed the sharply handsome man who had somehow become entangled with her, grabbed him roughly by the wrist and began dragging him towards the shadow of the wall and towards the corner. If she couldn't make sure that this random stranger was friend or foe on the spot, she would have to take him with her until she knew for certain. There was too much for her here, now. Too many reasons to stay in Alvadas, too much to love about the wildness that was its streets and its people. This dark-haired man wasn't going to compromise that. "Keep quiet," she whispered, "I need to find the lisstener and then we can talk."

OOC :
Hey! So, Ssanya doesn't know about the Listeners. When she mentions it just then, it's only because she can't say the word 'evesdropper' in the common tongue. :)
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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Gomer Caitiff on January 25th, 2018, 6:59 am

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While neither denying his assertion that the songs had been nonsense nor confirming it in her own way, the woman seemed to agree that Ionu, at the very least, was worthy of its own title as the trickster god. It was acceptable enough as far as Gomer was concerned; if she didn't flat out deny the chance they had not shared a version of their deepest darkest secrets to everyone and anyone on the street, it was easy to pretend it fact.

The issue then was how to ask about her peculiar affinity for the soulless dead without her pressing into matters of his own. For a moment, the two stared at each other, expressions similar in thought but their motives wholly different. Before he could settle on any kind of tactful what in which to suggest corpses weren't necessarily the strangest things he'd heard about that day, she spoke.

It wasn't anything like what he had been expecting, and, caught of guard, Gomer dumbly turned to stare in the direction she indicated with a sharp flick of her finger. All he saw were large, purple petals that seemed to compose the outer wall of a building, the bloom seeming to spring straight up out of the snow as naturally as the trunk of tree. "Ah, is that so?"

He wasn't quite sure what the woman was getting at, and found himself even more confused as his gazed met hers. She seemed worried - just shy of frightened. A concerned question on the tip of his tongue, Gomer was interrupted by her alarmingly firm grip as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and dragged him half stumbling towards the ally.

"Where are we-?" Again, she interrupted him, hushing his questions and allowing him an ultimatum that, while possibly the beginning of what was to be his murder, seemed reasonable enough to him. With jocular obedience, he made certain to whisper falling into step beside her to keep her from further yanking his arm out of his socket with her freakish strength. "As you wish."

It didn't take long for them to cross the small square, and the moment the rounded the corner, there was a long, straight path obscured by fluffy pink clouds. The whole ally smelled like something sweet - the sort of sticky, fruity sweet of jams or marmalade -, and they seemed able to pass through the clouds without any effect. In the distance, though obscured, was the retreating figure of a man. Whatever the specifics of his appearance, both Gomer and the smaller stranger of a woman did not slow in their pursuit.

Having be asked, or rather commanded, to remain quiet, he let her forge forward a few steps before falling into step behind her. Far less concerned with the thought that the man might know something about him he didn't want him to know - as he was far less comfortable talking about it that having it known in general - Gomer gazed at the fluffy, cotton-like fog they passed through. With his free hand he tried to grab at it, wondering if it tasted like the whole area smelled.

Unable to grasp it, he let out a small, sad sigh, turning his head once more to face the direction they had been heading, only to find that the shape seemed to have split into three. Frowning then, Gomer pulled back on the woman's hand, his voice as soft as the clouds around them. "Perhaps it best we slow pace...?" As he turned to check their way back, his frowned further deepened as all that he could see was an endless expanse of pink - dotted with two dark shapes large enough to belong to a human or something similar in size. "Ah."
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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Allassanachassanya on January 29th, 2018, 10:55 pm

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"Speech"


The alleyway they stalked through was, as Gomer was finding out for himself, very pink. Ssanya was almost completely used to how Alvadas operated, but still she muttered another curse word, this time in snake tongue as the pastel clouds fogged the way ahead. Still, she kept on walking, her eye pinned on her ever growing more distant target, trying in vain to ignore the pinkness. It made almost no sense to be so determined on one person who might have been naught but a passer by turning a corner just as he or she did every day. After all, it was likely all the other people who had been dragged into the weird situation had heard just as much as that one suspected eavesdropper. But Ssanya wasn't thinking clearly any more. Perhaps she might have done at some point in her past, when she had no attachments to anything in particular but her own being, but she had been riled up by the inadvertence of the words she'd spoken. She worried about the endless possibilities of what could happen, but mainly about if she was forced to leave, yet again. When she had finally found somewhere to settle for many more years to come, it seemed cruel to be now launched into a situation where that very same outcome could occur.

The dark-haired man spoke quietly behind her, almost so that she didn't hear and she turned her head slightly to acknowledge what he'd said. She was about to shake her head vehemently to disagree - they needed to press on, godsdammit! But as they both looked behind them, the swirling pink clouds had obscured the alleyway. The fug was pretty, but any shape of house walls or cobbled ground had vanished in Ionu's playground. She whipped her head around, and sure enough her target had also disappeared into the soup.

"Oh, petch you and petch thisss day! I do not sssee the joke, here." That comment was aimed once again at the trickster god. Ssanya glared at her knuckles, drew in a deep, steadying breath, and then turned to face the man. She had let go of his wrist a short while ago, but now the surprise that he'd barely protested against her manhandling of him caught up to her. Why had he not petched off at the nearest opportunity? That was a curiosity in itself, and maybe... just maybe he didn't mean to spread rumour or gossip about the things she's said. It was a hopeful thought, but she just couldn't know what he was thinking. "What iss name, ssstranger?" She sighed again, but this time it was more resigned. There was a slight tinge of worry that she was due to be reported to the authorities, but there was nothing she could do any more. It had been jerked from her hands. All that she was left with was the one loose end who had come along with her. The loose end who had stuck around, for one reason or another. It was enough of a reason for her to stop on the street and get to grips with the situation they found themselves in.

"My name iss.. Chassa. I am.. sssorry about your mother. My mother iss dead too." Instinctively, her hand reached for the finger bone that hung around her neck, Ssanya's comforting reminder of home and family and most particularly her dead mother. It was warm from her skin, and she rubbed her thumb over the familar bumps and nooks in the age-worn bone. "Unlesss that wass not true, either." Slyly, she looked up from underneath a wave of hair to gauge his reaction, not believing that what he'd blabbed was a lie at all, not after her own truths. "I do not know about you, but we ssshould find a way out of thisss. Sssoon."

The snake woman tried to avoid the man's gaze as she looked around, trying to figure out if there was anything malicious about the pinkness of the mist. Pink wasn't usually a colour associated with evil or trickery, but then, anything was possible. Ssanya extended her hand, and tried to grasp a wandering cloud, but like with Gomer it passed straight through her fingers and evaded her capture. Then she knelt. Her knees appeared to be on something solid, but as she pressed her hand down on the surface all she could feel was a kind of clean dampness and a fresh smell of the sweetness of jam. "Hmm." She stood up with a jump, and reached her hands high into the air. To her surprise, her hands bumped gently against another surface, almost exactly similar to the one she had just been kneeling on. "Reach upwardsss!", she exclaimed. She walked a little way ahead experimentally, and then her extended hands knocked into another very similar surface.

Were they in some kind of... box? And if so, where was the way out?
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Sing Your Heart Out

Postby Gomer Caitiff on January 30th, 2018, 12:41 am

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As the woman turned, her own gaze searching for Gomer's soft-spoken apprehension, the dark shapes disappeared. Frowning, he stared on, even as she vented her frustrations at the city and its Maker. Though not a true response, he thoughtfully mumbled more to himself, "That's not the only thing you don't see..." staring off into the distance with a squint, unable to quite remember how far off the figures had been, and if they had belonged to the sentient type of dark blob obscured by pink mist or not.

Seemingly no further sign of what he imagined could potentially be danger, he let his focus settle on the small but impressively strong woman who seemed to have suffered a minor loss in moral at the escape of the one they had been pursing. "Well, it's not Stranger." He winked, not answering the question directly. As she gave her own name, he bowed his head politely with a smile, catching the slight hesitation. Lifting his head, eyes light with a mischievous glint, he introduced himself with a grin and an anonym. "Piers. Charmed."

Whether she had given a false name as he suspected or not, he imagined it best to share as little definitive details about himself as possible, and he held nothing against her if she felt the need to do the same. After all, they'd both already shared a bit more with the world than they'd most likely meant to do. "Oh, my family is a... complicated bunch. Mother as well." He laughed the question off, though he didn't need to lie to avoid answering it. The Cravens were hardly simple, and though his mother was gone, she wasn't necessarily deadb- there were worse things than dying.

He couldn't decide if the woman had lied about her own mother or not, but he supposed it more likely a truth than fiction. After all, her song hadn't been about her mother, and judging by the various musical soliloquies he'd heard prior - including his own -, it was suggested her death wasn't a subject of embarrassment or shame. If anything, perhaps Chassa had been the one to do her in, as it were. She had, after all, sung quite excitedly about death and, though he couldn't be sure from where he stood, she seemed to be wearing some sort of bone pendant, suspiciously in the shape of a finger.

Not sure if he was in the company of murderess or not, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt; especially after she suggested they try to find their way back instead of attempting to tear out his throat - a very possible turn of events if her grip was anything to go by. "An expeditious retreat?" His smiled. "That is certainly something I can support wholeheartedly."

Though he should have been doing his own investigations, Chassa's were like a strange dance. First out, then down, then up! Gomer's smile widened into a grin as he watched her, his arms crossed as he chuckled. Though, when her hands seemed to make contact with a ceiling, of a sort, his mirth was quickly stifled by a more appropriate concern. Doing as he was bid, he raised a hand, not needing to jump as his companion had done, and felt the cool sensation of... something.

Whatever it was seemed solid enough, and as he curiously scratched at it with his fingernail, it seemed hard like stone not brick, as his efforts did not produce any gritty particles. Glancing at Chassa as she investigated further ahead, he noted that it seemed the way forward was much the same as below and above. Figuring it his responsibility to check behind, he turned, arms outstretched, but paused in his step.

Much closer than before, but still shrouded enough that features beyond their rough, humanoid outlines were indecipherable, he spotted the figures once more. Unsure whether or not they were really there, he took a slow step backward, his voice low and - though there was some urgency - calm. "Madame Chassa, I don't mean to alarm you but... do you see two manlike shadows over yonder?" Though perhaps he should have attempted to determine if they were boxed in or not, he found the possibility of more strangers in a blinding pink fog to be more pressing.

Against his better judgement, he glanced behind him to make sure his impromptu companion was still there. Finding her as real as she could be in a city of illusion, he turned back to face the way they had come. Or so he supposed, as the fluffy clouds had since removed any detail from their surroundings beyond a mist veiled seeming of the two of them as long as they remained close. Not unexpectedly, the figures had disappeared again. He checked to his left and right, but there was only the seemingly endless expanse of roiling, sweet-scented fog. "Hum."
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