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dawon / ratatoskr
You appear in a near-empty room. But you are not alone—your team is here, and another. Mirrors line the walls on all sides. Reflected in those mirrors are--
Not you.
Flickering in and out of the mirrors are images: flashes of reds, blues, greens; trees and fields and water; faces you know – all of the "reflections" are images of Kyriakos as you know it.
But it seems so far away—covered in a thick layer of grime.
Those of you whose mirrors are in danger of fading away on the outside know instinctively that you can't simply return. At least, not as you are in your current state. Anyone who looks at them will notice that their forms seem somehow insubstantial, almost see-through. More over: you feel emptied of something, something essential. Whatever it is that makes you care, that keeps you tethered to your very existence has weakened—is in fact failing.
Those of you in the room not in danger of losing yourself understand already that you must aid these people in finding both a new source of strength, new, stronger connections – and clearing the way back home.
Not you.
Flickering in and out of the mirrors are images: flashes of reds, blues, greens; trees and fields and water; faces you know – all of the "reflections" are images of Kyriakos as you know it.
But it seems so far away—covered in a thick layer of grime.
Those of you whose mirrors are in danger of fading away on the outside know instinctively that you can't simply return. At least, not as you are in your current state. Anyone who looks at them will notice that their forms seem somehow insubstantial, almost see-through. More over: you feel emptied of something, something essential. Whatever it is that makes you care, that keeps you tethered to your very existence has weakened—is in fact failing.
Those of you in the room not in danger of losing yourself understand already that you must aid these people in finding both a new source of strength, new, stronger connections – and clearing the way back home.
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