Post by Minxie on Jan 26, 2010 16:46:25 GMT
The night is very cold, with a light frost already forming on the ground outside. The old manor house is heated, but late at night the heating is switched off to conserve electricity. The time is roughly three o'clock in the morning; Dead Time. This is the time it is easiest for spirits and the like to cross over into the living realms. It is also the time that it is easiest for those in other realms to cross over.
There is a sense of foreboding in the air, a nervous anticipation that something is about to occur.
[[Isolde Avira --- I can't sleep...]]
So many thoughts were buzzing around Isolde's mind, mostly those regarding the other Seven. She knew they were there; she could sense them, but she didn't know who they were. They could have been anyone, for all she knew. It frustrated her greatly. What she really, really needed was the Time Master. Between them, things always made more sense. Between them, they could Wake the others.
Isolde shivered as she felt the cold of the night creeping even through her many blankets, and sighed quietly. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep any time soon. It looked as though she would be staying awake all night again.
Bother.
The blonde slipped out of bed into the cold and wrapped herself in her thick, fluffy dressing-gown, before switching on the small portable heater she had installed in her bedroom for just such an event. She curled up on her white sheepskin rug and let the artificial heat warm her.
She supposed she must have dozed off, because one moment Isolde was staring at the portable heater, and the next she was on her back staring at the ceiling. She did not have much time to analyse this, however, as she felt a shift both within herself and in the atmosphere.
Oh no...
Something was going on, and she knew instinctively that as the Psychic it was her job to investigate. The Psychic within her was ready to go, but Isolde was shaking. She wanted to stay in her room, stay somewhere safe, away from whatever was going on.
But she wouldn't. There was no way she could sit back and allow whatever-it-was to happen without her interfering; it wasn't her. With a decisive nod Isolde rose to her feet and pulled on a pair of trousers over the top of her pyjama bottoms, and a thick jumper over her pyjama top, then pushed her feet into comfortable slippers and left the room.
The hallway was deserted and silent, but not peaceful; Isolde could sense something unpleasant the further down she walked. Something was coming, and she had to be prepared. If only she could figure out how she needed to prepare...
There is a sense of foreboding in the air, a nervous anticipation that something is about to occur.
[[Isolde Avira --- I can't sleep...]]
So many thoughts were buzzing around Isolde's mind, mostly those regarding the other Seven. She knew they were there; she could sense them, but she didn't know who they were. They could have been anyone, for all she knew. It frustrated her greatly. What she really, really needed was the Time Master. Between them, things always made more sense. Between them, they could Wake the others.
Isolde shivered as she felt the cold of the night creeping even through her many blankets, and sighed quietly. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep any time soon. It looked as though she would be staying awake all night again.
Bother.
The blonde slipped out of bed into the cold and wrapped herself in her thick, fluffy dressing-gown, before switching on the small portable heater she had installed in her bedroom for just such an event. She curled up on her white sheepskin rug and let the artificial heat warm her.
She supposed she must have dozed off, because one moment Isolde was staring at the portable heater, and the next she was on her back staring at the ceiling. She did not have much time to analyse this, however, as she felt a shift both within herself and in the atmosphere.
Oh no...
Something was going on, and she knew instinctively that as the Psychic it was her job to investigate. The Psychic within her was ready to go, but Isolde was shaking. She wanted to stay in her room, stay somewhere safe, away from whatever was going on.
But she wouldn't. There was no way she could sit back and allow whatever-it-was to happen without her interfering; it wasn't her. With a decisive nod Isolde rose to her feet and pulled on a pair of trousers over the top of her pyjama bottoms, and a thick jumper over her pyjama top, then pushed her feet into comfortable slippers and left the room.
The hallway was deserted and silent, but not peaceful; Isolde could sense something unpleasant the further down she walked. Something was coming, and she had to be prepared. If only she could figure out how she needed to prepare...