[closed - event] i don't understand how you're gone

[adelicateflame]

Characters: the Damsels.
Date: They awake the morning of the 3rd.
Summary: The adventures of the captive damsels aboard the ship Labrys.
Warnings: None at this moment.

[The morning is rising, the early sun spreading streaks of red and gold out across the surrounding cloudscape, thin beams penetrating the wooden Labrys, spilling across its planks. It is an unfamiliar place that you will awaken in, one filled with the creaking of wood and the musical rattle of dried out bones. Did you think those skeletons carting you off in the night were a dream? Well, now you know for certain. Now you sit in a cage, cold steel surrounding you and cold steel at ankles and wrists. You are a captive.

And soon enough, your captor's shadow falls over you. Her dark hair is wind-tousled, her skin a silken brown. And she is smiling.]

Good morning, ladies.



[[ooc; We have below some basic headers for NPC involvement, you are not restricted to them in the least! If you start up threads with 3 or more involved, try to keep to a hazy tagging order, maybe don't jump anyone more than twice!]]

Comments

[histrionic]

[Kuja studies the paintings, interested in the art more than anything else. She touches her fingers gently to a sculpture, her nails clicking softly against the surface.

She feels inclined to wander further into the labyrinth. After all, why not? She checks the doors as she goes, carefully, to see if any of them open.]

[adelicateflame]

[Many of the doors are locked, and those that do fall open easily look into empty rooms, dust undisturbed across the floorboards. These empty rooms are narrow spaces, after-thoughts that have since been forgotten. Wandering the labyrinth will inevitably bring her deeper within it, the dampness increases there, the murals on the walls becoming less and less distinguishable as they are overtaken by grey lichens. As the ceilings grow lower, more and more doors will open. Still locked, but the wood frames are easy to force when so rotted.

There are many crates down here, but some are swarming with spiders, others with bottles of wine, musty books in another. There might be treasure in there, but it may be under a mountain of trash.]

[histrionic]

[Well, well. Kuja is a little interested, in fact. She likes spiders and has no fear of them. Even more than that, she likes books, and it's to the books that she's drawn, curiously, though she smiles upon the spiders as well.]

At least you're silent, unlike those rattling bones.

[Those skeletons really annoyed her.]

[adelicateflame]

[There is quite an array of spiders, Kuja, you are in luck. They range in every color from black to turquoise, some of them tiny and others bloated with young.]