[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/64532706][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/645328/64532706_350.png[/img][/url]
At this point Torpor is starting to lose all patience and sense of reality. He has not caught a glimpse of his mate this whole time and none of his attempts with the Fool have been successful. He at once feels an manic sensation take over him while feeling calm on the outside. [i]One more time[/i], he tells himself. [i]One more chance to give the Fool what he wants in order to get out of here alive.[/i]
During this time Torpor had been impassively watching the little scene unfold in the orb. He no longer believed any of it. All of this was some magic of the Fool. Or maybe the two on stage where the last victims of the Fool's mad games. That did not bode well if true. Seeing how the mechanically enhanced dragon had appeared before was interesting, if a little disturbing. But all that mattered to Torpor at the moment was getting through this to see his mate.
Buzzing with manic energy, Torpor approached the stage ready to get on with the next challenge. The Fool looked bores with him now. What? Was he not having fun when the dragons hr tortured were willing? The wheel spun down and landed with an audible thud. Torpor no longer felt so willing. He cared for neither of these fears. Damn, where were the snakes when you needed them? Fears looming and energy draining away, Torpor walked blindly towards the door. If he didn't pay attention to the unseen stares, maybe they wouldn't bother him?
(Choice #1)
From above a dark shadow watches the poor dragon act like he is approaching his execution. She so desperately wishes to aid him, or at least sooth his fears. Soon she hopes. Soon.
At this point Torpor is starting to lose all patience and sense of reality. He has not caught a glimpse of his mate this whole time and none of his attempts with the Fool have been successful. He at once feels an manic sensation take over him while feeling calm on the outside.
One more time, he tells himself.
One more chance to give the Fool what he wants in order to get out of here alive.
During this time Torpor had been impassively watching the little scene unfold in the orb. He no longer believed any of it. All of this was some magic of the Fool. Or maybe the two on stage where the last victims of the Fool's mad games. That did not bode well if true. Seeing how the mechanically enhanced dragon had appeared before was interesting, if a little disturbing. But all that mattered to Torpor at the moment was getting through this to see his mate.
Buzzing with manic energy, Torpor approached the stage ready to get on with the next challenge. The Fool looked bores with him now. What? Was he not having fun when the dragons hr tortured were willing? The wheel spun down and landed with an audible thud. Torpor no longer felt so willing. He cared for neither of these fears. Damn, where were the snakes when you needed them? Fears looming and energy draining away, Torpor walked blindly towards the door. If he didn't pay attention to the unseen stares, maybe they wouldn't bother him?
(Choice #1)
From above a dark shadow watches the poor dragon act like he is approaching his execution. She so desperately wishes to aid him, or at least sooth his fears. Soon she hopes. Soon.
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/11843519][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/118436/11843519_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
[i]Right,[/i] thought Isavar.
[i]So this is just some twisted, demented love story gone astray???
Huh.[/i]
He wasn't sure exactly WHAT he had expected, about how the two people in the cages were connected in this fiasco, but he'd have to admit, he was completely caught off-guard with this new information.
His head was spinning with the impact of the challenges he'd/they'd all been facing, as well as this new info the Ringmaster wanted them to have.
[i]So these two had originally LOVED each other?[/i]
Issy thought and thought, as well as he could think under the circumstances.
[i]Poets, writers, artists, bards - all had written, painted, and sung, vigorously and enthusiastically for eons, about the joys and pains of love in all its guises - romantic love, doomed love, unrequited love, young love, eternal love. Love knew no bounds, had no limits, was the most important thing in the world, by their standards.
Yet here were two people who once loved, and...no longer loved each other? I mean...[/i]
He looked back at the two cages and their occupants, and frowned.
[i]But surely, the Ringmaster wasn't playing fair? Neither one of these people seemed particularly better - or worse - than the other.
Yet a crime had been committed, and it had to be resolved, for them all to get out of this predicament.[/i]
[i]So...the girl was social and flirtatious? Was that her crime? Well, she was pretty and lively in the films, he could see that; but the Ringmaster clearly wanted them to spot the strange glint in her eye that suggested she wasn't all that she appeared on her attractive surface.
[/i]
[i]But the male wasn't really an obvious improvement in character over her, was he? He was anti-social, bossy, demanding, and didn't treat the people he worked with well. [/i]
[i]Was it possible that someone who worked with him thought he deserved to be cursed (or whatever had happened to turn him into what he was in the cage)?[/i]
[i]Well,[/i] Issy thought, [i]clearly the guy pulling our chains is in no hurry to tell us the answer. He's enjoying dragging this out, watching us sweat, giving us crumbs but not the whole slice.[/i]
[i]It's a mystery he wants us to unravel, and that's our ticket out of here.
Best thing I can do is make another choice so we can see another bit of film.[/i]
He grimaced and looked around at his cohorts; he didn't see any smiles, mostly grim determination.
The Ringmaster spun the wheel, and this time, Issy didn't care what the choices were or where the pointer landed.
The old Gaoler next to him gave a low groan, but Issy didn't even wait to see what the phobias were.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the portal right in front of him...and found himself at the back of a different theater, in a different place...
[center][img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/4tanp5y4tyh09yi/shadowtop.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=purple]Issy chooses SCOPOPHOBIA and Option #3)[/color][/center]
[img]https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/yglin87tc1e2r26/shadowbottom.png[/img]
Right, thought Isavar.
So this is just some twisted, demented love story gone astray???
Huh.
He wasn't sure exactly WHAT he had expected, about how the two people in the cages were connected in this fiasco, but he'd have to admit, he was completely caught off-guard with this new information.
His head was spinning with the impact of the challenges he'd/they'd all been facing, as well as this new info the Ringmaster wanted them to have.
So these two had originally LOVED each other?
Issy thought and thought, as well as he could think under the circumstances.
Poets, writers, artists, bards - all had written, painted, and sung, vigorously and enthusiastically for eons, about the joys and pains of love in all its guises - romantic love, doomed love, unrequited love, young love, eternal love. Love knew no bounds, had no limits, was the most important thing in the world, by their standards.
Yet here were two people who once loved, and...no longer loved each other? I mean...
He looked back at the two cages and their occupants, and frowned.
But surely, the Ringmaster wasn't playing fair? Neither one of these people seemed particularly better - or worse - than the other.
Yet a crime had been committed, and it had to be resolved, for them all to get out of this predicament.
So...the girl was social and flirtatious? Was that her crime? Well, she was pretty and lively in the films, he could see that; but the Ringmaster clearly wanted them to spot the strange glint in her eye that suggested she wasn't all that she appeared on her attractive surface.
But the male wasn't really an obvious improvement in character over her, was he? He was anti-social, bossy, demanding, and didn't treat the people he worked with well.
Was it possible that someone who worked with him thought he deserved to be cursed (or whatever had happened to turn him into what he was in the cage)?
Well, Issy thought,
clearly the guy pulling our chains is in no hurry to tell us the answer. He's enjoying dragging this out, watching us sweat, giving us crumbs but not the whole slice.
It's a mystery he wants us to unravel, and that's our ticket out of here.
Best thing I can do is make another choice so we can see another bit of film.
He grimaced and looked around at his cohorts; he didn't see any smiles, mostly grim determination.
The Ringmaster spun the wheel, and this time, Issy didn't care what the choices were or where the pointer landed.
The old Gaoler next to him gave a low groan, but Issy didn't even wait to see what the phobias were.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the portal right in front of him...and found himself at the back of a different theater, in a different place...
Issy chooses SCOPOPHOBIA and Option #3)
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/33589391][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/335894/33589391_350.png[/img][/url]
Not again. Not another round of this hellscape. No matter what intriguing mysteries the ringmaster promises, no matter what kind of righteous judgment he's proposing for these two captives on stage, Xerxes is done.
Summoning the bulk of his strength, ignoring the crowd around him, he tries to burst through the barriers keeping his spirit in this terrible place. And though there is a moment where he seems close to vanishing through, some force beyond him slams him back into place.
It's akin to a head injury, he notes dimly, struggling to keep from collapsing. A sweeping wave of dizziness washes over him, and he leans against the wall for support. Whatever has him trapped here has him trapped thoroughly, and it's becoming inevitable that he must see the ringmaster's game through in order to escape.
But this time, he does not make the choice himself, because the door to Haphephobia materializes beside him, and he staggers through. Scopophobia he might have handled, having spent enough time being stared at by his soldiers, or watched by his enemies. But this? A room full of touching bodies, grasping hands?
When they lift him up to carry him across the crowd, caught up in their riotous celebration, Xerxes' breath catches in his throat, and he is helpless to let them bear him away.
[b]Haphephobia Choice 3[/b]
Not again. Not another round of this hellscape. No matter what intriguing mysteries the ringmaster promises, no matter what kind of righteous judgment he's proposing for these two captives on stage, Xerxes is done.
Summoning the bulk of his strength, ignoring the crowd around him, he tries to burst through the barriers keeping his spirit in this terrible place. And though there is a moment where he seems close to vanishing through, some force beyond him slams him back into place.
It's akin to a head injury, he notes dimly, struggling to keep from collapsing. A sweeping wave of dizziness washes over him, and he leans against the wall for support. Whatever has him trapped here has him trapped thoroughly, and it's becoming inevitable that he must see the ringmaster's game through in order to escape.
But this time, he does not make the choice himself, because the door to Haphephobia materializes beside him, and he staggers through. Scopophobia he might have handled, having spent enough time being stared at by his soldiers, or watched by his enemies. But this? A room full of touching bodies, grasping hands?
When they lift him up to carry him across the crowd, caught up in their riotous celebration, Xerxes' breath catches in his throat, and he is helpless to let them bear him away.
Haphephobia Choice 3
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[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/56686420][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/566865/56686420_350.png[/img][/url]
To Khufris's surprise, there wasn't much of a fight at all. The troll was quick to step aside when the Skydancer approached, leaving him only with another cryptic clue. With everything that was going on, he was starting to have trouble keeping track of it all.
As he returned to the room with everyone else, he glanced around at the others who had been drawn into this "game." These challenges were clearly taking their toll on everyone. He'd been lucky enough not to die just yet, but not everyone had been as lucky. If this kept up, it was possible that some of them might not survive this evening. All the more reason to try to wrap up this game as quickly as possible.
Soon, the next set of scenes was playing out. Only now was it becoming clear that some of these clips were about the second prisoner, the one who had been turned into this monstrosity. Khufris was starting to form a picture in his head of what had happened, but frustratingly, it wasn't enough for him to pass judgement just yet. What if neither of them was the right choice? Indeed, Khufris was beginning to grow suspicious of the ringmaster. Who was this dragon and how did he possess such power? And perhaps most importantly, why was he so insistent that one of the two prisoners needed to be destroyed?
He would keep his questions to himself for now, though, as the ringmaster gave the wheel another spin and two more doors opened up. Khufris was used to being the center of attention, so being stared at didn't really bother him that much. But being touched unexpectedly was not something he liked at all, and so he stepped through [b]the door labeled "haphephobia"...[/b]
---------------------------------
...and found himself face to face with the craziest party he'd ever seen. The room was packed with dragons from wall to wall, all having the time of their lives. The noise was deafening, but worst of all was that there seemed to be no easy way through the chaos. Still, something told him he needed to get to the other side, one way or another. He could just barely make out the exit on the opposite wall.
Khufris slowly began to figure out what his options were. Stealing from the coat rack just seemed wrong, even if this was just a game. He also saw several dragons who seemed to be surfing on the crowd, but Khufris scoffed at this idea. There was no guarantee that he'd be carried where he wanted to go, anyway. No, he'd just have to go around the crowd. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but it seemed like the only sensible solution.
Pressing himself up against the wall, Khufris started to circumnavigate the crowd. Maybe, just maybe, they'd recognize who he was and show him some proper respect! "Make way, make way!" the Skydancer boomed. "Pharaoh Khufris of Clan Twinstar, coming through!" [b](Choice 1)[/b]
To Khufris's surprise, there wasn't much of a fight at all. The troll was quick to step aside when the Skydancer approached, leaving him only with another cryptic clue. With everything that was going on, he was starting to have trouble keeping track of it all.
As he returned to the room with everyone else, he glanced around at the others who had been drawn into this "game." These challenges were clearly taking their toll on everyone. He'd been lucky enough not to die just yet, but not everyone had been as lucky. If this kept up, it was possible that some of them might not survive this evening. All the more reason to try to wrap up this game as quickly as possible.
Soon, the next set of scenes was playing out. Only now was it becoming clear that some of these clips were about the second prisoner, the one who had been turned into this monstrosity. Khufris was starting to form a picture in his head of what had happened, but frustratingly, it wasn't enough for him to pass judgement just yet. What if neither of them was the right choice? Indeed, Khufris was beginning to grow suspicious of the ringmaster. Who was this dragon and how did he possess such power? And perhaps most importantly, why was he so insistent that one of the two prisoners needed to be destroyed?
He would keep his questions to himself for now, though, as the ringmaster gave the wheel another spin and two more doors opened up. Khufris was used to being the center of attention, so being stared at didn't really bother him that much. But being touched unexpectedly was not something he liked at all, and so he stepped through
the door labeled "haphephobia"...
...and found himself face to face with the craziest party he'd ever seen. The room was packed with dragons from wall to wall, all having the time of their lives. The noise was deafening, but worst of all was that there seemed to be no easy way through the chaos. Still, something told him he needed to get to the other side, one way or another. He could just barely make out the exit on the opposite wall.
Khufris slowly began to figure out what his options were. Stealing from the coat rack just seemed wrong, even if this was just a game. He also saw several dragons who seemed to be surfing on the crowd, but Khufris scoffed at this idea. There was no guarantee that he'd be carried where he wanted to go, anyway. No, he'd just have to go around the crowd. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but it seemed like the only sensible solution.
Pressing himself up against the wall, Khufris started to circumnavigate the crowd. Maybe, just maybe, they'd recognize who he was and show him some proper respect! "Make way, make way!" the Skydancer boomed. "Pharaoh Khufris of Clan Twinstar, coming through!"
(Choice 1)
Having made it across the bridge and back to the hall, Ilya reflects on what the creature had told him. He'd been forming a theory in his head for awhile now, and is now sure he's figured out where this "trial" is going to end up. Regardless, the event has been fun so far, and he wouldn't be surprised if he'd overlooked something. So he goes through the motions once more: listening to the host, watching the gruesome videos of what could have been and the latest clue, and watching the wheel spin once more. All the while, he mulls over the clues in his head, double-checking and comparing to make sure he's on track.
[columns]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59468730][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/594688/59468730p.png[/img][/url]
[nextcol]
[I][size=4]Being stared at? I can see why that would make someone uncomfortable. Same goes for being touched. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that given the circumstances, the latter would be an extremely unpleasant challenge. Just the thought of what they could have makes me uneasy.[/size][/I]
[/columns]
With the many, many unnerving ideas Ilya thinks could be waiting behind the fear of touch, he decides its out of the question. [color=204AA8]Scopophobia, the fear of being stared at[/color] couldn't be nearly as awful. At first, looking at all the people, he worries he walked through the wrong door. Then he spots the door on stage, and understands what he needs to do.
[columns]
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/59468730][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/594688/59468730p.png[/img][/url]
[nextcol]
[I][size=4]So I have to find a way to sneak over. If I pull the fire alarm, I might get swept up in the panic. Posing as a stagehand seems the least conspicuous to the crowd, but the actual stagehands could probably figure me out immediately. That or they'll force me into some task or another. The costume seems risky, but as long as I keep moving I'd probably blend in with the commotion onstage.[/size][/I]
[/columns]
Ilya weighs his options, feeling more dubious about his choice than usual. Deciding stalling will just make it worse, he moves to the rack and begins donning the costume. He takes a moment to plan a path across the stage, and observes the flow of the scene before heading to the stage, hoping this doesn't go awry. ([color=204AA8]choice 3[/color])
Having made it across the bridge and back to the hall, Ilya reflects on what the creature had told him. He'd been forming a theory in his head for awhile now, and is now sure he's figured out where this "trial" is going to end up. Regardless, the event has been fun so far, and he wouldn't be surprised if he'd overlooked something. So he goes through the motions once more: listening to the host, watching the gruesome videos of what could have been and the latest clue, and watching the wheel spin once more. All the while, he mulls over the clues in his head, double-checking and comparing to make sure he's on track.
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Being stared at? I can see why that would make someone uncomfortable. Same goes for being touched. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that given the circumstances, the latter would be an extremely unpleasant challenge. Just the thought of what they could have makes me uneasy.
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With the many, many unnerving ideas Ilya thinks could be waiting behind the fear of touch, he decides its out of the question.
Scopophobia, the fear of being stared at couldn't be nearly as awful. At first, looking at all the people, he worries he walked through the wrong door. Then he spots the door on stage, and understands what he needs to do.
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So I have to find a way to sneak over. If I pull the fire alarm, I might get swept up in the panic. Posing as a stagehand seems the least conspicuous to the crowd, but the actual stagehands could probably figure me out immediately. That or they'll force me into some task or another. The costume seems risky, but as long as I keep moving I'd probably blend in with the commotion onstage.
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Ilya weighs his options, feeling more dubious about his choice than usual. Deciding stalling will just make it worse, he moves to the rack and begins donning the costume. He takes a moment to plan a path across the stage, and observes the flow of the scene before heading to the stage, hoping this doesn't go awry. (
choice 3)
Sadly, I probably won't have time to type a lot today, but Miso and Misa choose Haphephobia and then the third option. Sending payment now! :)
Sadly, I probably won't have time to type a lot today, but Miso and Misa choose Haphephobia and then the third option. Sending payment now! :)
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/51412290][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/514123/51412290_350.png[/img][/url][/center]
Wait, [i]those[/i] two were together? With [i]each other?[/i] That was only implied, but strongly... it made a good story hook, so probably was true; spawned all kinds of possibilities which Malia did not need to contemplate since she didn't want to bias the narrative she heard. She shouldn't judge. (But she was judging, a little.)
([i]Just[/i] a little.)
She made herself move on to focus on the next choice. Touch or sight. They were hard for her to think of as fears; her brain jumped to categorizing both as afflictions instead. To be [i]refused[/i] touch, a pariah, or even worse to be deliberately overlooked and completely unacknowledged... those were horrendous punishments for any beings that formed societies.
Fears, though, this was about fears. Malia was familiar with haunted houses that strictly disallowed physical contact with guests or permitted it for an extra level of jump-scaring, but that didn't feel like it fell under fear of touch.
To be afraid of being seen, or afraid of being touched... afraid of [i]harsh[/i] touch didn't feel like it quite counted either. Malia just couldn't imagine either choice as a situation as stressful as the ones previous. With a mental shrug (and recognition she would probably regret the thought [i]how bad could it be?[/i]) she reached out and let her claw tap wherever it landed.
[center][b]~Scopophobia~[/b][/center]
The theater was crowded. Not Malia's normal milieu, performing in such an open well-lit space or in front of so many at once, but nothing frightening. For the sake of the game, though, presumably she should act as if she were... so how to get through the crowd without drawing undue attention?
Her searching gaze alighted on a costume rack conveniently within reach. Her eyes lit up. [i]Perfect[/i]. This might even be fun!
[center][b]~Choice 3~[/b][/center]
Wait,
those two were together? With
each other? That was only implied, but strongly... it made a good story hook, so probably was true; spawned all kinds of possibilities which Malia did not need to contemplate since she didn't want to bias the narrative she heard. She shouldn't judge. (But she was judging, a little.)
(
Just a little.)
She made herself move on to focus on the next choice. Touch or sight. They were hard for her to think of as fears; her brain jumped to categorizing both as afflictions instead. To be
refused touch, a pariah, or even worse to be deliberately overlooked and completely unacknowledged... those were horrendous punishments for any beings that formed societies.
Fears, though, this was about fears. Malia was familiar with haunted houses that strictly disallowed physical contact with guests or permitted it for an extra level of jump-scaring, but that didn't feel like it fell under fear of touch.
To be afraid of being seen, or afraid of being touched... afraid of
harsh touch didn't feel like it quite counted either. Malia just couldn't imagine either choice as a situation as stressful as the ones previous. With a mental shrug (and recognition she would probably regret the thought
how bad could it be?) she reached out and let her claw tap wherever it landed.
~Scopophobia~
The theater was crowded. Not Malia's normal milieu, performing in such an open well-lit space or in front of so many at once, but nothing frightening. For the sake of the game, though, presumably she should act as if she were... so how to get through the crowd without drawing undue attention?
Her searching gaze alighted on a costume rack conveniently within reach. Her eyes lit up.
Perfect. This might even be fun!
~Choice 3~
why does align right not work fit fit fit fit fit ok
@BirdsDontTalk, @ClockworkEclipse, @Crystalitar, @Easte, @Eeree, @Gladicent, @gryphon982, @Kaimon, @Piccalily0510, @RisenWolf, @ShadeytheDragon, @SolarSam, @Soulthreads, @WolfTrickster
Just a reminder! You have until 6am FR time to get your entries in for the day! :)
@BirdsDontTalk, @ClockworkEclipse, @Crystalitar, @Easte, @Eeree, @Gladicent, @gryphon982, @Kaimon, @Piccalily0510, @RisenWolf, @ShadeytheDragon, @SolarSam, @Soulthreads, @WolfTrickster
Just a reminder! You have until 6am FR time to get your entries in for the day! :)
[url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/56743488][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/350/567435/56743488_350.png[/img][/url]
Frustrated that she only seems to be getting worse at choosing the right choice, Taralyn comes back to herself resigned to her failure. "If only this ringmaster would be more forthcoming with his explanations," she thinks.
Turning her attention to the scene before her, Taralyn watches as the action plays out on the screen.
She had suspected that the gruesome male before her had been that pretty one before, but is thankful to have her suspicions confirmed.
When the wheel stops, Taralyn hardly has to think about which way to go. She steps through the portal to Scopophobia without a second glance.
Once through the portal, Taralyn takes her time deciding which path to choose. She remembers that last time, she chose the obvious choice and it did not turn out the way she had intended. Perhaps the idea is to choose the route that seems least likely to succeed.
She tries to remember what she had done in the first part of this horror story. AH YES. The giant spider instead of the small spiders or the trapdoor.
Hmm.. Well then. Considering the options before her, Taralyn decides that the fire alarm option would surely sweep her out of the theatre and away from the door. So she turns to the other two options. Disguising herself as a stage hand would be the sneakiest option, while the other dress-up option would put her at the back of where everyone is looking.
Thinking about her first choice with arachnophobia and knowing that she is not a great dancer and will likely stick out like a sore thumb no matter what she chooses, Taralyn heads for the rack of costumes, takes a moment to center herself and think about her clan, then heads to the stage.
Scopophobia, Choice 3
Frustrated that she only seems to be getting worse at choosing the right choice, Taralyn comes back to herself resigned to her failure. "If only this ringmaster would be more forthcoming with his explanations," she thinks.
Turning her attention to the scene before her, Taralyn watches as the action plays out on the screen.
She had suspected that the gruesome male before her had been that pretty one before, but is thankful to have her suspicions confirmed.
When the wheel stops, Taralyn hardly has to think about which way to go. She steps through the portal to Scopophobia without a second glance.
Once through the portal, Taralyn takes her time deciding which path to choose. She remembers that last time, she chose the obvious choice and it did not turn out the way she had intended. Perhaps the idea is to choose the route that seems least likely to succeed.
She tries to remember what she had done in the first part of this horror story. AH YES. The giant spider instead of the small spiders or the trapdoor.
Hmm.. Well then. Considering the options before her, Taralyn decides that the fire alarm option would surely sweep her out of the theatre and away from the door. So she turns to the other two options. Disguising herself as a stage hand would be the sneakiest option, while the other dress-up option would put her at the back of where everyone is looking.
Thinking about her first choice with arachnophobia and knowing that she is not a great dancer and will likely stick out like a sore thumb no matter what she chooses, Taralyn heads for the rack of costumes, takes a moment to center herself and think about her clan, then heads to the stage.
Scopophobia, Choice 3
[center][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/63810633][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/638107/63810633.png[/img][/url][/center]
[center]The audience Ghost finds on the other side of the [b]scopophobia[/b] door is...unsettling. There's something not quite right about them, something off in the way their gazes are all so intently fixed on the show. As for the actors on the stage- the stiff, unnatural movements of their limbs makes a shiver race up Ghost's spine.
Looking around for the door, they curse silently when they spot it at the far side of the stage. They aren't shy, but for some reason they have the feeling that simply walking up to the door and attracting the attention of the audience would be very, very bad.
Carefully, they weigh their options.
The first one, they decide, is a dud. With their unique appearance, no matter how they may disguise themselves, they're bound to be discovered immediately. Blending in is impossible.
Perhaps sounding the fire alarm would empty the theater? They turn in its direction and look at it consideringly.
The weaverlings nip at their horns in disapproval. No? they guess, patting their silvery bodies to appease them. A peek at the audience and actors quickly reminds them of how unnervingly strange they are. Who knows if they would react normally to the shrill ring of a fire alarm?
The [b]third option[/b], then. They can't disguise themselves without being caught, but if they try to move among the chorus, then the throng of people could hide their presence long enough for them to reach the door.
Mind made up, they pat the weaverlings one last time for good luck before they struggle into a costume and slip into the crowd of dancers...
Scopophobia, Choice 3[/center]
The audience Ghost finds on the other side of the scopophobia door is...unsettling. There's something not quite right about them, something off in the way their gazes are all so intently fixed on the show. As for the actors on the stage- the stiff, unnatural movements of their limbs makes a shiver race up Ghost's spine.
Looking around for the door, they curse silently when they spot it at the far side of the stage. They aren't shy, but for some reason they have the feeling that simply walking up to the door and attracting the attention of the audience would be very, very bad.
Carefully, they weigh their options.
The first one, they decide, is a dud. With their unique appearance, no matter how they may disguise themselves, they're bound to be discovered immediately. Blending in is impossible.
Perhaps sounding the fire alarm would empty the theater? They turn in its direction and look at it consideringly.
The weaverlings nip at their horns in disapproval. No? they guess, patting their silvery bodies to appease them. A peek at the audience and actors quickly reminds them of how unnervingly strange they are. Who knows if they would react normally to the shrill ring of a fire alarm?
The third option, then. They can't disguise themselves without being caught, but if they try to move among the chorus, then the throng of people could hide their presence long enough for them to reach the door.
Mind made up, they pat the weaverlings one last time for good luck before they struggle into a costume and slip into the crowd of dancers...
Scopophobia, Choice 3
