-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Vote tally - Render Unto Moloch (M:tAw)
-
-
-
[x] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
-
-
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruckthrough halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall ofstatues is being renovated while you watch, each stoneform replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of greydiscomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
-
-
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
-
-
[X] A Church; there is a priest and congregation, of course, but they are made of wax and wood. True faith left this place behind years ago, and now only the light remains. It streams down from on high, broken and repainted by windows of stained glass that stretch almost to the ceiling, and under its touch you could almost fool yourself into thinking the withered mannequins are strong and vital once again.
-
-
[X] A Court; the walls are decorated with portraits of your parents, smiling down at you. In the jury sit a dozen caricatures, with bloodshot eyes and teeth stained brown from drink. They watch you hungrily, fixated on your every word, while in the judge's box your twin sits and watches your fumbling speech with naked contempt.
-