Dark of the Day - H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)

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Dec 29, 2009, 9:28am

Dark of the Day :: Sigil IC Boards :: The Lady's Ward :: The Singing Fountain :: H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)

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Topic: H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open) (Read 49 times)

Stix
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H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)
« Thread Started on Jul 3, 2009, 11:26am »

The Singing Fountain has stood as one of Sigil's most beloved sites of interest for generations. Water bubbles from its central fount -- not the foul rainwater of the city, but something considerably purer -- and as it spills over into the varicolored metallic basins all around, the sounds it produces are those of an unreal symphony: wordless voices, woodwinds, and even something approximating bowed string instruments. Passersby stop for considerable periods just to listen.

It doesn't hurt that one of the Cage's most awe-inspiring women calls the fountain her home away from home. Black Marian, a Godsman singer and seeress, entertains the crowd with her songs and shocks them with her divinations: she gives her listeners a ladle full of the fountain's waters (from which she graciously removes any pigeon feathers), and those brave enough to drink soon find a haunting, wordless song escaping from their mouths. Marian listens in rapture, and interprets the sounds into a prediction of the singer's future. When Marian is there, the onlookers are always plentiful, and always curious.

Tonight, the Singing Fountain is much more than a curiosity.

Over the currently-silent fountain stands an enormous circular canopy tent, five hundred feet across and nine stories high at its center, large enough to overshadow and completely engulf even nearby buildings; whatever holds it there is a mystery, for there are no supports or ropes visible from underneath. Around its base, a concentric circle forty feet larger in radius than the fountain itself has been chalked on the flagstones and filled with glyphs in no recognizable language. A large square area outside of this is cordoned off with heavy, dark curtains, and a great banner suspended overhead reads "CORUSCUS". That one word has been spread throughout the Cage over the last two days, but no one seems to know exactly what the event entails (though speculation has been rampant).

Hundreds of Cagers gather under the watchful eye of a few Harmonium patrols, intending to find out....

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"You don't speak Italian."
"Bella, parla Italiano magnifico."
"Uh-huh. Say something else."
"...Marinara."

john
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Re: H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)
« Reply #1 on Jul 11, 2009, 1:12am »

John approaches the tent, in armor clad, as always, though his chivs may be secreted away in his usual dark green cloak if the Harmonium is frowny for the moment. He's not here for a fight, as much as out of interest about possible profit opportunities.

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"One way or another, we'll get our money."

Motto of collections agents everywhere.

Shadow
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Re: H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)
« Reply #2 on Jul 11, 2009, 2:26am »

Weaving among the crowd, the young half-elf does his best to blend and avoid the attention of the Hardheads. Curiosity alone has drawn him here, and he is intent on finding out the dark of this "CORUSCUS" thing...

« Last Edit: Jul 11, 2009, 2:29am by Shadow »

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"Dark of it is basher, there ain't a body out there, 'cept maybe the Powers or the Lady, who know the real truth. And maybe that, in itself, IS the truth. Everyone's gotta tumble to their own path, their own meaning, whatever it ends up being, and there ain't a berk out there who knows another's answer." - Vahn Reil, Indep

exile
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Re: H131, Day 88, 9 AP (Open)
« Reply #3 on Oct 26, 2009, 1:47pm »

(If this scene is still open...)

The black robed figure of a Madman passed almost unnoticed through the congested avenues of the Lady's Ward, threading in and out of traffic as though a wide path wound effortlessly through it. The odd passerby who caught his unsettling gaze paused briefly amidst their daily musings to consider what circumstances had brought this unlikely visitor so far afield from the Gatehouse, but most bashers in the cage couldn't afford to spare much more than a thought for strange men and their godless ways. Besides, something far more interesting than a barmy Bleaker was on display, and that was precisely where Hadrian's wanderings were leading him whether he knew it or not.

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And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

- Some prime berk who tumbled to the dark of things

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