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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 28, 2024 2:09:39 GMT -5
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 27, 2024 16:13:45 GMT -5
Duck! and the Rainbow Room
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 25, 2024 1:50:04 GMT -5
yea
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 21, 2024 15:47:51 GMT -5
You're my favourite <3
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 19, 2024 17:07:49 GMT -5
Peaches
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 19, 2024 15:36:08 GMT -5
You are not obsessed with pie. You might even hate it. And me. I better go before you knock me out.
You have correctly answered 1 of 10 questions.
On average, 23 of users who took the quiz gave 3.09 right answers.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 19, 2024 9:58:29 GMT -5
Chapter Nineteen – It’s Always the Quiet Ones
Julian studied his reflection as the ripples brushed across the surface of the water. The sun was falling low upon the sky, and his features were blurred and indistinct, but perhaps he would not have recognised them anyway.
His arms were stiff as boiled leather, and with each push pain ricocheted down his back, but it was nothing compared to the torment in his mind. The oar splashed gently as it bit down into the water, and his reflection shattered away into nothing.
As they made their way across the water, Julian looked up into the face of Father Octavian. The priest was staring up at the sky, and in the gathering gloom his eyes almost looked black. They had not spoken to one another since they had made their way onto the boat, but perhaps it was better that way. Julian was full of questions, and he did not think he could contain himself if he continued to be refused any answers.
The day had been spent ferrying supplies away from the monastery and onto the ship, and it had only been the two of them. It was hard work, and as far as Julian was concerned, all of it had been fruitless.
The Prospero was a ship similar to its namesake, a recreation of an 18th century vessel, but one that seemed to serve no purpose. When Octavian had taken him to see the boat for the first time, he had not understood. He still did not understand fully, but he knew that the intention behind it was serious. Octavian was planning for them to sail the ship, that much was certain. Where and why, however, were known only to him. Julian was not sure how much longer he could stand it.
They had been stocking up the ship with food, water, and ammunitions. Enough for at least thirty men, Julian reckoned, though where those thirty men were to appear from he could not say. There wre only a dozen or so of them at the monastery, and most of those were old and tired men. It made no sense, no sense at all.
Julian had felt uncomfortable the entire day. There was something about the ship, so vast and empty, it’s purpose unknown to him, that made him feel trapped. For the entire day he had been accompanied by a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, as if he were being watched by something, or someone. It was a curious paradox, but the space seemed to crush him. He was in the centre of a web, the net closing in around him.
Julian stared into the eyes of his master, and wondered = What was it all for?
He had been a young boy when he had come to the monastery. He came from a rich and noble family, and it had been his fathers idea that he subsume himself in an ecclesiastical profession. Julian had had no choice in the matter, but in truth he was glad to have had the opportunity to escape from his family.. The scars of past were forgotten here, at least to all but himself.
Julian had found himself drawn to Octavian from the beginning. There was something in his manner and demeanour that appealed to Julian. There was an honesty and integrity to what the man said and did that Julian found himself able to trust in, despite whatever secrets the man kept from him. Julian would not make mistake honesty for openness, and never for trust. Octavian’s mind was a closed book, and his actions were shrouded in a cloak of darkest mystery.
It made no matter, Julian told himself. He would get his answers, in time.
As they reached the shoreline, the sky was beginning to darken, a deep blue haze that seemed to descend from the heavens. Julian could see the moon appearing from behind the spire of the chapel, the stone masonry of the monastery seeming to shine against the moonlight.
It had been nearly twenty years since he had first come here, a young man, yet still a child. In all this time he had never felt as though he call the place home. He was only a visitor, an observer. He has always felt out of place.
They climbed out of the boat, and Julian picked up a length of rope, starting to the boat to the shore.
‘I think I might stay out a while.’ Julian said. ‘I fancy a walk in the woods, to clear my head.’
Octavian nodded at him, and he disappeared without another word.
Julian sat for a moment, looking at the water as the darkness began to settle upon the world, before staying true to his word and heading towards the thicket of trees.
The air was quiet and crisp, and every footstep he made was like a thunderclap in the woods around him. His steps were tentative and gentle, trying not to disturb the environment as much as he could. He would have to be quiet, and he would have to be patient.
He made his careful way though the trees, stood tall and still like patient soldiers. As the sun vanished over the horizon the leaves turned a shade of crimson, but in truth in was still the middle of spring. The woods were bustling with the reawakened nature of the world, and Julian knew that he would not be alone in the darkness.
He was being watched.
He had felt it all day, ever since they had set out that morning, but Julian had not been too concerned. There were eyes everywhere, especially here. Whatever Octavian was planning, it could not have escaped the attention of anyone, Julian was sure. But it was more than that.
Someone had been following Julian for quite a long time. Ever since Octavian had taken him under his wing, an observer had marked him out. Julian had not minded all that much. In some ways he had found it reassuring, in fact. But now enough was enough.
Time passed, Julian could not say how much. He walked through the tree carelessly, heading deeper and deeper into the woods. He was careful to make sure that he would leave enough of a trail that he could still be followed through the growing darkness, but not so much that it would be obvious that he was making things so easy. He had no destination, there was nothing in these woods for him to head towards, but they didn’t know that.
Julian heard a rustling above him, and something emerged from the branches of a nearby tree, taking flight, moonlight shimmering against the feathers of the bird as it took flight into a cloudless night. Julian took this as his opportunity. He veered away from the path, moving into a cluster of trees, and ducked down, trying to keep himself from sight.
Julian waited, pushing himself against the bark of the tree, his fingers digging against the cold moss that had grown up its side.
Julian strained his ears, waiting for some sign, an indication that his suspicions had been correct. His fingers continued to pick at the bark, tiny of flecks of wood digging themselves under his fingernails.
A twig snapped, and Julian tensed, his hand’s frozen in place. He could his breath pulsing up his throat, and he focussed his eyes in the direction he had come, waiting for the stranger to show himself.
In a moment he was there, and in the next, Julian was on him.
He leapt from being the tree, driving straight at his stalker. He took him from a crouching position, knocking the wind from the both of them as they fell to the floor in a haze of confusion and darkness.
It was a risk, of course. Julian did not know who it was, and they could have been armed, or dangerous. But as Julian knelt over the boy, he decided that it was a risk that had paid off.
‘Harry.’ said Julian
The boy nodded, though he was not really a boy. Not any more, at least. In the few years since Harry had been at the convent he had grown into a young man, though Julian was still bigger and stronger than him.
Julian sat back, thought for a moment, before reaching out a hand to the spy.
‘I suspected as much.’
Harry looked at the hand uncertainly, but took a hold of it, pulling himself back up. He dusted himself down, but in the darkness Julian was not sure if he had truly been dirty.
‘Well.’ said Julian, shrugging his shoulders. ‘What do you want?’
Harry looked at him, staying silent.
‘You’ve been following me.’
Harry studied Julian for a moment, his eyes narrowed, careful caution showing in his portrayal.
‘Yes.’ said Harry.
‘For quite some time, I think.’ said Julian. ‘I should be flattered, but I don’t imagine it’s out of choice, is it?’
Harry took a step back from Julian, but did not answer.
‘Jean wants to know what Octavian is planning, and so he’s set his young protege on my trail. Well, more fool you. What is really going on, Harry? Because if you know, then please, tell me.’
Still Harry remained quiet.
‘You’ve been following me for months, surely you should know by now? Or are you as stupid as you look?’
Julian sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. He will still dizzy from his sudden movement.
‘Well, I’ll spare you any more blushes Harry. I don’t know what Octavian is up to, not any more than you.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ said Harry, his silence breaking.
‘Really?’ Julian snorted. ‘Well then, you’re a fool, and so is Jean for entrusting this task to you. But fear not, just because I don’t know what Octavian is up to doesn’t mean that I haven’t learned anything. I’ve not been idly wasting my time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve been talking to someone. Someone you should know all to well, ‘Mr. Duncan.’
And with that, Julian leapt upon him. He threw himself at Harry, the two of them falling together, Harry landing against the trunk of another tree. Julian placing one arm against the boys neck, another against his chest.
Harry struggled, but Julian held him tight against the tree.
‘Now, you listen here.’ said Julian, the shock registering in Harry face. ‘There’s something about you that I find suspicious, boy. Because you’re supposed to be dead, aren’t you?’
Still he struggled, but Julian only tightened his grip.
‘Answer me!’
‘How did you know?’ Harry gasped.
Julian smiled at that. ‘Because someone told me, of course. A relative of yours, or so he says.’
At that, the boy became speechless once again. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Fernald Duncan.’ Julian sighed. ‘Or so he calls himself, anyway. The man I met at the auction house, if you remember? You were spying on me already, I believe. He’s had a lot to say to me, Mr. Duncan. The thing is, he knows an awful lot about this place, about Octavian and Jean and all the rest of them. And more than that, he knows what really matters. And he would like to - How should I put it - extend an invitation to you.’
At that, Julian took his arm away from the boys throat. If he wanted to run, Julian would not stop him. He had to let him make the right choice.
‘An invitation to what, exactly?’ asked Harry.
‘To talk with Fernald, and to find out what’s really going on. It’s time to pick a side Harry.’
‘What sides are there?’
Julian laughed. ‘The dead and the living, harry. Don’t you want to live forever?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘No, you don’t. Not yet. But you will, given time. But that’s what it’s all about, really. Life and death are two sides of the same coin. You just need to be careful which face you land on. You should not be so easy to decide where you place your trust, boy.’
At this Harry bristled. ‘I’m always careful – that’s why I’m not listening to anything you-’
Julian shook his head. ‘You don’t understand, You’re not seeing the big picture here. It’s always the quiet ones who change the world, the loud ones just take all the credit. You and me, we have a chance to work out the truth. Look at it this way – don’t you want to find out the truths your parents died for?’
Julian saw the look in Harry’s face, a clarification behind his eyes, and he knew that it had worked.
The net had closed.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 17, 2024 3:26:11 GMT -5
This round has had all the drama
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 16, 2024 10:40:14 GMT -5
Neither Misfits or Skins are BBC shows, though i do think they influfenced the style of a lot of BBC stuff since.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 15, 2024 1:44:53 GMT -5
Hey, it was nice to be in the same room as you. Happy birthday!
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 14, 2024 16:13:06 GMT -5
Me & Anka being higher than Bee is not right.
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 13, 2024 1:49:36 GMT -5
I see. I should say more incoherent piles of vaguely connected words, maybe I'll win something for the first time in almost two years. nah
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 11, 2024 16:00:24 GMT -5
Tea + Biscuits
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 8, 2024 1:46:02 GMT -5
Tea
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Post by Isadora Is a Door on Mar 6, 2024 16:13:43 GMT -5
whoever has the fewest likes is killed.
Or whoever has the most gets moved up to the next level of the game?
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