Howl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likepaleglass) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-12-12 09:00 pm
likepaleglass) wrote in sirenspull2012-12-12 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
003 - In which Howl reflects on the tragedies of the world. Locked from Hattie.
[If you could see this man, you would not recognize him. He is quite plain, almost unremarkable in appearance. His clothing is drab. He smells of nothing but man. (Egads.) He is worlds away from Howl Pendragon.]
[But you cannot see this man, much to his chagrin. This is the even greater injustice of the world: That he is this damned miserable, and not only can he not properly express it (no magic=no slime), he can't even be seen doing it.]
I may die here.
[His voice is slightly muffled, as though speech were bouncing off another object. Indeed, if you were to run across him, he is face down on a table. It's hard to talk when face down on a table.]
I may die, and they will find me here, a waste of a man, only his stripped bones left to tell his woebegotten tale. At home, they'll never know what became of me -- that I perished, alone, in a bleak and unknown land, never even to find rest in my home soil.
A malcontent ghost.
((ooc: Response or action is fine! He's in the nearest pub, drowning his sorrows -- and probably looking much like his icon -- with more clothes and without the slime.))
[But you cannot see this man, much to his chagrin. This is the even greater injustice of the world: That he is this damned miserable, and not only can he not properly express it (no magic=no slime), he can't even be seen doing it.]
I may die here.
[His voice is slightly muffled, as though speech were bouncing off another object. Indeed, if you were to run across him, he is face down on a table. It's hard to talk when face down on a table.]
I may die, and they will find me here, a waste of a man, only his stripped bones left to tell his woebegotten tale. At home, they'll never know what became of me -- that I perished, alone, in a bleak and unknown land, never even to find rest in my home soil.
A malcontent ghost.
((ooc: Response or action is fine! He's in the nearest pub, drowning his sorrows -- and probably looking much like his icon -- with more clothes and without the slime.))
no subject
[Well, then]
That does sound unpleasant.
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