Lildear18
kapuchu
Damycles
Atrocious
Kidgoat
Yewps
Noctis Céleste looked around the room assigned to her at the Saloon to inspect her work. As soon as she entered she set about making it a place suitable for her to stay. As was suggested she covered the window, but instead of using blankets she disassembled a nightstand and used it's wood and repurposed nails to board up the window. She also used a combination of her own hardware and a piece of wood stolen from the beds backboard to fashion a make-shift locking bar for the door. Once inside the room she could easily place her make-shift locking bar across the door. Between that and the boards on the window there would be no easy way in, which was something that normally brought Céleste comfort, however that was when she was only worried about murderers and thieves. Fortune's End threatened her with more than just the usual human sin, but a possible unimaginable menagerie of unknown horrors. While the Mayor seemed harmless, and Fredric seemed kind, there was no telling what else was in the town and if it was as equally harmless.
The last thing she did before changing into her nightgown and settling in for the night was to position her bed so that if anyone did manage to open the door it would immediately slam into the bed and, hopefully, get stuck. Another trick she often used when she was feeling uneasy about a town, and it felt as equally pointless as her other attempts. But old habits die hard, and one never knows when their efforts might prove fruitful, even when it feels like they won't.
The gun she slept with under her pillow brought little comfort in the face of the never ending nightmares that tormented her all night. The whole experience didn't feel natural, as if it was not her own mind conjuring the terrifying visuals and experiences but someone or something else. Her dreams were filled with shapeless beings who could at one moment be small enough to fit between the pages of a book then the next be swallowing a town whole as their form burst out from those pages. She watched the earth from above as thousands of years passed, watched as man came into being and died out so fast their existence was barely even noticeable making her feel like a tiny spec of nothing. She felt not the pain but the indescribable terror as the ceaseless teeth and claws of creatures she'd never seen before awake or in her previous dreams tore into her and ripped her to pieces. She heard the sound of drums, beating louder and louder as she ran through a void of nothing, hands clasp over her ears as she tried to escape the sound that did not seem to come from a source but merely manifested within her own head. When she eventually awoke she found herself in a sweat soaked nightgown and bedspread, the heat having little to do with it. She laid there for several minutes, taking deep breaths, eyes focusing hard on the ceiling above. She was no stranger to bad dreams, her familiarity with them often leading to her barely noticing when it was normal or a nightmare. But what she had experienced was something new and far more horrible than anything she had seen during her slumbers before. The horror did not come from the images themselves, though she could not deny they alone would have been enough to scare her hair white, but rather from a small instinct flaring in the back of her head, a warning light that had never gone off before as it had had no reason to before then. Some long forgotten part of her mind was trying to tell her, warn her, that the images she saw, felt, last night were not conjurations of the mind, but memories, predications, things that have and will happen. She would have given her other arm to forget that feeling.
When the emotions of the experience quelled and she felt like it was safe to move again Céleste slipped out of bed and removed her nightgown and the sheets from the bed, hanging both up on the wall using the last of her claimed nails. Hanging them up on a line would have been better, but the heat was enough she was sure they'd be dry by the time they were needed again. Céleste hoped what she experienced during her sleep was a one time affair brought on by her long journey and the strange -people felt like the wrong word- individuals she had met at her journey's end. Only time would tell if it was a one time thing so rather than worry about it any longer Céleste went about getting ready for the day. She sat on the sheetless bed and rubbed some ointment on the stump at her shoulder -the only thing that remained of her left arm- and attached her faux wooden replacement, ensuring the straps that kept it in place were tight but still comfortable. With that done she threw on one of her spare dresses to give the one she journeyed in a few days to air out, and strapped on her pistols and axe sheath. Once dressed, Céleste made to head out of her room to get her day started. On her way out of the room she almost grabbed her custom hunting rifle, but decided to leave it in her room along with her wooden backpack which she stuck in a corner so that it couldn't be easily seen from the door.
On her way down the saloon stairs a shot rang out, most likely coming from the towns so called clock tower which was little more than an unfinished building with a non-functioning clock. She hesitated briefly, her right hand instantly twitching in the direction of one of the fire-arms she keeps at her waist. A false alarm, it was just the a man named Thomas sounding the hour in place of a bell. On her way down the stairs she passed by a window through which she could see the tower in question; she paused a moment and looked outside at it. It was easily the tallest point in the town despite having a small footprint in comparison to the rest of the buildings. Céleste made a mental note to speak with Thomas, as from his vantage point he had probably often saw much of the comings and goings of just about everyone in the town.
At the bottom of the steps she spotted Fredrick and started up a conversation. He was as nice as he was yesterday, asking about how she found the room and if there was anything he could do for her. As they spoke she did her best not to look at the -man?-, which felt rude but did allow her to actually hold a conversation with him. If she had tried to make eye contact she wasn't sure such a feat would have been possible. After a bit of small talk she was able to determine the saloon, like many buildings in the town, had food supplies that would restock at the beginning of that day as if by magic no matter how much had been taken the previous day. The people of Fortune Found were allowed to take food from any building in the town, but the food in the Saloon was meant exclusively for new visitors, specifically those new visitors who stayed at the saloon. After finishing her conversation she went into the saloons kitchen and fixed herself up something eat. To her surprise they had her favorite tea, so naturally she made a cup of that using the supplied kettle and barrel of -possibly- fresh water. Breakfast made and tea prepared she made her way back to the second floor balcony where she could enjoy her meal in solitude.
As she sat and ate she watched the town, hoping to see signs of other people or perhaps more creatures. But no one showed up, the only soul she could see being the mayor, head hanging down towards his chest, sitting lifeless in the chair. She wondered why he didn't move his seat inside rather than sit out in the sun all the time. Something told her he didn't have a choice in the matter. Her eyes having wandered towards the Mayor lead to her noticing that the town hall close by that people seemed to have been dismantling the day prior was looking quite whole and unmarred. It was as if someone came along and replaced all the parts that had been taken.
Céleste sat and sipped her tea, nibbled on her toast, and began to plan out her next steps. She had made her way to Fortune's End for a reason and nightmares or not, monsters or not, and anything else the town could throw at her would not dissuade her from her goal. Someone, either in Fortune's End or Fortune Found, needed to die.
The last thing she did before changing into her nightgown and settling in for the night was to position her bed so that if anyone did manage to open the door it would immediately slam into the bed and, hopefully, get stuck. Another trick she often used when she was feeling uneasy about a town, and it felt as equally pointless as her other attempts. But old habits die hard, and one never knows when their efforts might prove fruitful, even when it feels like they won't.
The gun she slept with under her pillow brought little comfort in the face of the never ending nightmares that tormented her all night. The whole experience didn't feel natural, as if it was not her own mind conjuring the terrifying visuals and experiences but someone or something else. Her dreams were filled with shapeless beings who could at one moment be small enough to fit between the pages of a book then the next be swallowing a town whole as their form burst out from those pages. She watched the earth from above as thousands of years passed, watched as man came into being and died out so fast their existence was barely even noticeable making her feel like a tiny spec of nothing. She felt not the pain but the indescribable terror as the ceaseless teeth and claws of creatures she'd never seen before awake or in her previous dreams tore into her and ripped her to pieces. She heard the sound of drums, beating louder and louder as she ran through a void of nothing, hands clasp over her ears as she tried to escape the sound that did not seem to come from a source but merely manifested within her own head. When she eventually awoke she found herself in a sweat soaked nightgown and bedspread, the heat having little to do with it. She laid there for several minutes, taking deep breaths, eyes focusing hard on the ceiling above. She was no stranger to bad dreams, her familiarity with them often leading to her barely noticing when it was normal or a nightmare. But what she had experienced was something new and far more horrible than anything she had seen during her slumbers before. The horror did not come from the images themselves, though she could not deny they alone would have been enough to scare her hair white, but rather from a small instinct flaring in the back of her head, a warning light that had never gone off before as it had had no reason to before then. Some long forgotten part of her mind was trying to tell her, warn her, that the images she saw, felt, last night were not conjurations of the mind, but memories, predications, things that have and will happen. She would have given her other arm to forget that feeling.
When the emotions of the experience quelled and she felt like it was safe to move again Céleste slipped out of bed and removed her nightgown and the sheets from the bed, hanging both up on the wall using the last of her claimed nails. Hanging them up on a line would have been better, but the heat was enough she was sure they'd be dry by the time they were needed again. Céleste hoped what she experienced during her sleep was a one time affair brought on by her long journey and the strange -people felt like the wrong word- individuals she had met at her journey's end. Only time would tell if it was a one time thing so rather than worry about it any longer Céleste went about getting ready for the day. She sat on the sheetless bed and rubbed some ointment on the stump at her shoulder -the only thing that remained of her left arm- and attached her faux wooden replacement, ensuring the straps that kept it in place were tight but still comfortable. With that done she threw on one of her spare dresses to give the one she journeyed in a few days to air out, and strapped on her pistols and axe sheath. Once dressed, Céleste made to head out of her room to get her day started. On her way out of the room she almost grabbed her custom hunting rifle, but decided to leave it in her room along with her wooden backpack which she stuck in a corner so that it couldn't be easily seen from the door.
On her way down the saloon stairs a shot rang out, most likely coming from the towns so called clock tower which was little more than an unfinished building with a non-functioning clock. She hesitated briefly, her right hand instantly twitching in the direction of one of the fire-arms she keeps at her waist. A false alarm, it was just the a man named Thomas sounding the hour in place of a bell. On her way down the stairs she passed by a window through which she could see the tower in question; she paused a moment and looked outside at it. It was easily the tallest point in the town despite having a small footprint in comparison to the rest of the buildings. Céleste made a mental note to speak with Thomas, as from his vantage point he had probably often saw much of the comings and goings of just about everyone in the town.
At the bottom of the steps she spotted Fredrick and started up a conversation. He was as nice as he was yesterday, asking about how she found the room and if there was anything he could do for her. As they spoke she did her best not to look at the -man?-, which felt rude but did allow her to actually hold a conversation with him. If she had tried to make eye contact she wasn't sure such a feat would have been possible. After a bit of small talk she was able to determine the saloon, like many buildings in the town, had food supplies that would restock at the beginning of that day as if by magic no matter how much had been taken the previous day. The people of Fortune Found were allowed to take food from any building in the town, but the food in the Saloon was meant exclusively for new visitors, specifically those new visitors who stayed at the saloon. After finishing her conversation she went into the saloons kitchen and fixed herself up something eat. To her surprise they had her favorite tea, so naturally she made a cup of that using the supplied kettle and barrel of -possibly- fresh water. Breakfast made and tea prepared she made her way back to the second floor balcony where she could enjoy her meal in solitude.
As she sat and ate she watched the town, hoping to see signs of other people or perhaps more creatures. But no one showed up, the only soul she could see being the mayor, head hanging down towards his chest, sitting lifeless in the chair. She wondered why he didn't move his seat inside rather than sit out in the sun all the time. Something told her he didn't have a choice in the matter. Her eyes having wandered towards the Mayor lead to her noticing that the town hall close by that people seemed to have been dismantling the day prior was looking quite whole and unmarred. It was as if someone came along and replaced all the parts that had been taken.
Céleste sat and sipped her tea, nibbled on her toast, and began to plan out her next steps. She had made her way to Fortune's End for a reason and nightmares or not, monsters or not, and anything else the town could throw at her would not dissuade her from her goal. Someone, either in Fortune's End or Fortune Found, needed to die.
