GLoG VI: Thread of One Thousand Plots

[Kaelaroth]

((Kaelaroth ))

[Haleyintraining]

((Wow, I'd never have guessed.))

[Kaelaroth]

((Heh))

Dunin shuffles about, his walk an ungainly shuffle, he cracks and breaks as he moves.

[Haleyintraining]

((I've invited you to join.))

((IC what year is it?))

[Kaelaroth]

((Not sure. For HALO, it's 2008. Wanna introduce someone to Dunin...? Please...?))

[happyturtle]

Susan will show Dunin to a room, and assign him a personal drone, but she will not give him a spork. Then she leaves.

((Deadtime. Going to try and get Ship Wars typed in.))

[Kaelaroth]

What is thiisss? Dunin says to the drone, confused.

[Lord Magtok]

A portal opens, and an unconcious Turtle clone should pop out before the things seals itself shut.

[Kaelaroth]

((deadtime))

[Haleyintraining]

((The first edition of Lindsay's Journal is up on the GLoG wikidot. Check it out!))

[Kaelaroth]

((The first edition of Lindsay's Journal is up on the GLoG wikidot. Check it out!))

((I quite like it. Update regularly, pwease!

Oh, and, undeadtimes.))

[Haleyintraining]

Lindsay undeadtimes.

((In case you haven't noticed, Annalee is nowhere. She is not in the plot thread, she is not here. She is not anywhere.))

[Kaelaroth]

Dunin is wandering the base, still wrapped in rags, hissing, and shuddering.

[happyturtle]

((It's hard to notice someone not being around when everyone comes and goes so much. ))

[Haleyintraining]

Lindsay enters whatever room Dunin is in.

Uh... Hello.

[Kaelaroth]

Dunin spins round, hissing. He's probably a little taller than Lindsay, and his strange, inhuman eyes, and dead, decaying smell may worry her. Who art thou, young one?

[Haleyintraining]

((Lindsay is 5'3"))

My name's Lindsay.

[Kaelaroth]

((Then he's her height, then))

Lind-see, eh? Art thou the Linden Trees, by cool water? I see not liquid, nyet acqua, dans tes yeux, but maybe they are hiding, no? The name is not Irish no, not Tuatha, nor Melusian, nor Formorian, nor them of those before. Neither of Greece, or Rome, or Carthage, or Masada - or its peoples. 'tis English, girlchild, of human stock. Art thou English? Or doest thine name lie? Dunin asks, his voice rasping as he speaks.

[Haleyintraining]

I'm English.

((I know dans tes yeux is in your eyes, but what is nyet acqua?))

[Kaelaroth]

((bastardised pronounced german. No water))

Dragon folk, eh? Melusians came from your land. 'tis your fault, 'tis. 'TIS! Melusians came, and they bred, and the tuatha fell to their sidhes, and I was forced deeper, see, for my mother, la belle dame, was a beauty, a tuatha, no less, and my father, something else. Some say formorian, or Fir Bolg, or worse, or worse. That's why I'm ugly, see, see? Bloods don't mix. Bad English. N'amore pas! Dunin exclaims, angry. I am fairy folk, and your fire burns my ground!

[Haleyintraining]

Wow, that was too bad... but you can't blame an entire race for what a few of them did.

[Kaelaroth]

A few?! Englishmens, sons of Nimueh and Uther Pendragon, they were, they sailed across the bonny blue sea, over Lur, and land, and they came to mine Eire, and they killed the tuatha, my mother, my father, though he was ugly, not tuatha at all. They forced the good people underground. I was forced deeper. Thine race is cruel child. The fey may be a malicious race, undying, but we hold no fascination with death. None. Your race crave it. We be l'Eros, you the Thanatos. Dunin says, ghostly-like, as he opens a cupboard, and flowers start to bloom out of it, great tropical shrubs and vines.

[Haleyintraining]

How long ago was that?

[Kaelaroth]

Thousands of years, and no time at all. Time is for humans, girl, girl, son of Nimueh Ever... Ever... Linden trees, not for us, the undying. He calls a flower to his fingers, and picks it, reaching out to listen. In his clawed, aged hand lies a huge red flower. For you.

[Inigo Montoya]

The portal between HALO and GLoG, which has always been there, burps and spits Inigo out on the floor.

[Haleyintraining]

Lindsay takes it.

Wow...

[Kaelaroth]

Dunin hisses, and points at Inigo with a blackened, aged finger, the flower wilting into dust in Lindsay's help. Melusians!

[Inigo Montoya]

Wha? No, I was just coming over here to look for my daughter!

[Kaelaroth]

Snarling, Dunin unwraps a rag from his clothes, revealing dark, sunken, rotten, mottled flesh on his arm. Melusians breed like rabbits, unbeliever, and go where they're not wanted. Leave usss! He starts to tie a knot in the rag...

[Inigo Montoya]

Inigo runs from the room, and then keeps looking for Izzy.