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StormbindingA storm was coming.Stormbinding
On Temple Hill, above the tangled streets of the city, the Priesthood of Psembe could see the clouds gathering in the red sky. It was the third hour of the evening, and they hurried two-and-fro in the temple courtyard beneath a sky the colour of plums. Most of their patrons had scattered at the first signs of rain, so they were free to work with more haste and less secrecy than during the long days they had been waiting for a suitable squall to blow in off the bay. This one promised to be a stinker; huge and violent, the arcanometeorologists had been tracking it for weeks as it ravaged the southernmost isles o
by ~warpandweft
Events In The Dark MetropolisTransient Events In The Dark MetropolisEvents In The Dark Metropolis
It is so hard to find doors which open these days.
Jacques runs through the eternal city. His feet pound down dirt-paved alleyways, past the shadows of flickering gaslamps and peeling advertisements for long-forgotten shows, faded faces peering furtively through masks of graffiti. Puddles, thick as tar and glistening beneath the endless sky of streets and empty cinemas and grim concrete towers and ancient plazas and swirling dead leaves that fall from skeletal trees in that great curve of the world above his head are broken by the fall of his thick soled boots. Huge black rats
by ~warpandweft
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Stop trying to prolong your youth!
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A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.
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A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.
now onward, to the glorious future (where I find the way to set that age correctly)
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A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.
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