emilheart?!

[squirreledaway]

[You land on a dirt path. But it's about the only thing that is, well, natural. Your surroundings are made of glass. Glass trees, glass sunflowers, glass grass. The path cuts between all of those things, and leads forward to two doors.

There appears to be a monster waiting in between them, but he too appears to be made into glass. The doors are different, one being neat and fairly new, the other having seen much better days. However, it's still fairly sturdy.

If you look behind the monster and between the doors, it appears like something should be there. It's a very obvious void, in both feeling and in sight. If you look at the ground between them, you can see hairline cracks starting to spread out into the ground.]

Comments

[squirreledaway]

"My knowledge is limited only to what Emil remembers. It was important, and I'm sure he'll remember in time what fits there."

[antreegonist]

Is that why you're made of glass?

[squirreledaway]

"Unfortunately. It doesn't suit me in the slightest! Now I shine and glow too much, and it absolutely ruins the pure dark and enigmatic feel of my presences. It's so dreadful!"

[antreegonist]

...you haven't changed a bit, Centurion Tenebrae.

[squirreledaway]

"Hahaha, I am glad to see that I've left an impression on you, then! Just as expected!"

[antreegonist]

You always were the darkest of them all.

[squirreledaway]

"Of course. Now then, how may I be of service?"

[his eyes flash again, it almost looks like he moved. But not quite.]

[antreegonist]

Could I ask where the doors lead to?

[squirreledaway]

"The are both part of Emil. His heart, and a place in his heart for the pact with Ratatosk."

[antreegonist]

That makes sense.

Can something be done to help in between them? The ground's all cracked and stuff.

[squirreledaway]

"I don't see why not. All it would take is a can-do attitude and some elbow grease, wouldn't it?

By the way, Mithos, what is elbow grease? It seems wholly unnecessary to accomplishing anything."

[antreegonist]

It just means hard work.

[squirreledaway]

"Then why not just say so? Honestly, you humans and half elves have so many strange ways of saying the simplest things."

[antreegonist]

Uh-huh. Says a Centurion who uses words like 'catoptromancy.'

[squirreledaway]

"How rude! That word is most useful, and strikes right at the heart of the matter."

[antreegonist]

It also has five syllables.

[squirreledaway]

"The mark of what makes it a good word!"

[antreegonist]

I guess even I like long words sometimes, huh.

Which door leads to the pact?

[squirreledaway]

"The older door should lead you there."

[antreegonist]

Thanks. See you in a bit...

*trying that door.*

[squirreledaway]

[the door opens! When it does, you can see a scene similar to the one outside of it. There is a dirt path, but not everything is made of glass. Everything feels real, however there is an ominous, overbearing presence you can't quite place. The path goes around a turn. Do you follow it?]

[antreegonist]

*first i look up and YELL AT THE PRESENCE*

Hello?

[squirreledaway]

[the presence is still there, but it doesn't give you any response.]

[antreegonist]

*sigh! presences. follows the turn.*

[squirreledaway]

[it's quiet, at least. But as you walk the trail, and around the bend, you can see the void again, larger this time. Beside it are another two doors, and to get to them, you have to cross a river. It looks peaceful, but the way the sun is setting casts an awkward red pallor over the scene]