Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20181211041806

Hidden in the wall.

Hidden in the tapistry.

Drifters of the man in the wall, hidden in plain sight. Blind to the sight, but well of hear. They stand amidst the departed noble, beyond their departure. Beyond their sights. Beyond their smell. Beyond the very senses they carried for centuries.

The twins do not speak, crouched in their folding world, anchored in thie realm. Their senses feeds streams elsewhere.

Among the tables of morning diners, Prad had his dish eaten. The shivers in his back, ramped to their apex, unprepared for the man in the wall's voice "Looks like you return to the old realm of damnation. Fitting that you should finish this petty thing".

"Return? This soon?" Prad makes the express effort to ignore his phantom's sardonic words "I didn't think..."

"Of course you didn't. They withold things from you. The sacrificial lamb. Why speak of internal affairs to the sacrificed lamb, after all?"

Prad already knows he will go. He knows there is little in the way to convince the man in the wall to bring anything more than sour words and the indifferent eyes.