One drawer, then two, then three, open and reveal little more than jumbled messes of paper, pens, and other tools, clearly placed within with little care for their continued organization.
There is only one thing that could raise any eyebrows; a leather journal is shoved into the bottom of one, old and worn, dating six years prior. Some pages are torn out, others smudged, illegible. The ones that can be read are personal in nature, small anecdotes from his day-to-day life, putting mundane stress into written word to manage all of it.
Towards the back of it, the writing grows messier. Several pages teeter on incoherent, sounding more like notes of attempted new spells rather than any writing. Several of the same bear prints, of both fingers and palms in various places, gently stained with blood.
A final page is scrawled in a way that one can feel the urgency of the words, the desperation to get them onto paper.
LAND SEA SKY BEYOND
UNBROKEN CIRCLE EVERLASTING
FRACTURED PIECES SNAPPED OFF - ONLY BEYOND REMAINS?
NO MORE GODDESSES, EMPTY THRONES ETERNAL
WE SHALL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO CREATE OUR OWN
"Orrrmorelull," the Morlull drawls, almost warning, if one could call its sleepy little babble that.
It seems it isn't without cause, though; downstairs, in the home, the front door opens, and then closes. Boots against creaking wood pace to and fro, muttering barely heard beneath those footfalls and the sounds of shuffling objects.
Dr. Coldwood's forgotten something, and he seems to be in a great hurry to find it.
no subject
There is only one thing that could raise any eyebrows; a leather journal is shoved into the bottom of one, old and worn, dating six years prior. Some pages are torn out, others smudged, illegible. The ones that can be read are personal in nature, small anecdotes from his day-to-day life, putting mundane stress into written word to manage all of it.
Towards the back of it, the writing grows messier. Several pages teeter on incoherent, sounding more like notes of attempted new spells rather than any writing. Several of the same bear prints, of both fingers and palms in various places, gently stained with blood.
A final page is scrawled in a way that one can feel the urgency of the words, the desperation to get them onto paper.
LAND SEA SKY BEYOND
UNBROKEN CIRCLE EVERLASTING
FRACTURED PIECES SNAPPED OFF - ONLY BEYOND REMAINS?
NO MORE GODDESSES, EMPTY THRONES ETERNAL
WE SHALL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO CREATE OUR OWN
"Orrrmorelull," the Morlull drawls, almost warning, if one could call its sleepy little babble that.
It seems it isn't without cause, though; downstairs, in the home, the front door opens, and then closes. Boots against creaking wood pace to and fro, muttering barely heard beneath those footfalls and the sounds of shuffling objects.
Dr. Coldwood's forgotten something, and he seems to be in a great hurry to find it.