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Who knows. They might get stuck in here for decades, join up with other people, and develop a unique nomadic society.
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Sorry for the ridiculously delayed response
Lucille
Lucy picked up the first book that interested her. It had a sketch of a man in a black mask. Batman. The name was strange and kind of silly, but she could ignore that.
In the first panel, he was a strong, dark figure, hunched over in a panel drenched with inked rain. A cape fell over his shoulders. His mask eyeholes were white, almost burning through the otherwise dark page. Lucy found herself flipping through the comic and looking for similar panels.
He watched over his city. He did not have powers, but he defended people anyway. The absence of powers made him all the more elusive, all the more intriguing. How did he get into that sort of profession?
Lucy pointed at a panel to show Mel what she was looking at. She glanced up at Gabriel. “Gabriel? Do you sometimes crouch on top of buildings? Like this?”
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They might…….develop a unique nomadic society.
bruh
i mean that would be kinda cool though.
Gerald handled that. You don’t question Gerald. (if you know you know)
I have the desire to add a new little guy to this. A guy with fun frilly sleeves
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@whalekeeper @rae @keilah-h this doesn’t directly affect your characters yet but im tagging you anyway
RallascantRallascant had been shooed away from the vegetable garden by the local Iris many times, but this time he was sure he would get away with it. He sat among the green leaves, legs and rabbit ears tucked in to remain as unnoticeable as possible. He wondered, as he chewed thoughtfully on stolen turnips, where the Iris was. They did not often leave their plinths.
Suddenly, he became very aware of the silence around him. The birds had stopped chirping and the plants themselves seemed to be holding their breath. He stopped chewing. The instinct to bolt came a split second too late. Talons snapped shut around him, picked him up, and slammed him into the cobblestone path. When his vision cleared, he looked up to see the face of the basilisk, its teeth bared in a snarl and its eyes squeezed shut. Rallascant shook off his rabbit form and folded his arms sulkily.
“Snatched by a half-chicken. How embarrassing.”
“I’m hungry, rodent,” the basilisk snarled. “Tell me where my prey is.”
“Flip over some rocks, and I’m sure you’ll find some. Unless you’re hunting for frogs again. In that case, I would suggest digging in the mud near a pond. Heh.”
“The outsiderss, you fool!”
“Them?” Rallascant said, starting to actually feel nervous. “How would I know where they are?”
“I know you track every visitor in this place, so I will assk you one. Last. Time. Where are they?” The basilisk’s jaws snapped dangerously close to Rallascant’s large nose on the last word she spoke. He breathed in sharply, then regretted it, choking on the serpent’s foul breath.
“Fresh as an open grave, that.” he managed between gags. The basilisk’s grip suddenly tightened, squeezing out the air in his chest. His eyes bulged in panic. “Crawl space!” he squeaked. “They’re in the crawl space!”
“What?” Her grip loosened, giving Rallascant just enough air for an explanation.
“The other labyrinth,” he gasped. “The tunnels. It’s what the place in between and below here has begun calling itself. They’re in the shifting rooms below Magnus’ garden.”
Satisfied with that answer, the basilisk released him. She sniffed the air and listened, trying to gauge where she was. That was not very far… She turned back to the imp, about to ask him why she shouldn’t just eat him as well, before realizing his scent had vanished. He had slipped away as soon as her attention had shifted. She snarled and slunk off, following the trail of bigger prey.
Any paint can be finger paint if you don't care enough
@whalekeeper Do ittt
Any paint can be finger paint if you don't care enough
Rallascant, you fuzzy snitch. You’re the opposite of a lucky rabbit’s foot.
I do appreciate your sass, but this is remarkably unhelpful.
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