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Post by Admin on May 26, 2020 9:28:35 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/255tMbq/11385775-w-1024-amp-h-1024~jpg The window is dirty and half-covered in mildew but Edmund can see that there is a man standing at the door. "Is this -"He can hear the sound of papers shuffling from the other side of the door. "- Edsen or Ablemont I'm speaking with?"Then quietly. "Damn this paperwork! Why can't they hire someone with proper penmanship?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 27, 2020 5:33:04 GMT
What the hell? His eyes dart left and right in wonderment. He stands just a few feet away from the door and a few feet beyond that is the stranger. Who would know...? Is he working with the ghosts? Or a confidant of Dworkin? Is this a test? Who could track me to this ruined house when even I didn't know I was coming here? "No, no Edsen here. Mister, you better state your business and be quick about it. You friends with those ghosts out there?"
Edmund loosens his pistol in his holster. Keeps his axe handy. He reflects upon the absurdity of the situation. A ruined house which is a "home" to a man older than dirt. But a survivor, true that, if the tales told are even half true. A horse inside, in the parlor room. A magical telescope. A dark night with ghosts dancing about and now a stranger comes a-knocking. What next? Mother comes in from the kitchen with a pot of tea and plate of cake?
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Post by Admin on May 29, 2020 11:15:11 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/255tMbq/11385775-w-1024-amp-h-1024~jpg #s://i~ibb~co/255tMbq/11385775-w-1024-amp-h-1024~jpg #s://i~ibb~co/Smhrfk3/adworkincolourinvert~png Edmund hears more shuffling of paper. "Yes, it does seem that my paperwork here wasn't properly prepared but even without your name you could help us out here by answering a few questions:
You are in there with a Dworkin, yes? I say 'a' because, as you have no doubt noticed, he is not the real thing. And, as a friend, I can tell you that he is a danger to you."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2020 4:58:22 GMT
"Huh. Well, that may be so. But he's done me no harm when he could have. What a lucky guy I am. Got more friends than I knew about. All sorts of people wanting to show me stuff. Look, all I want is a safe night's sleep and to be away from these pursuing ghosts. Which, I noticed, you never answered my question. Which leads me to presume you're with them. What do you want with me, mister? And no lies, you hear? I got tricks in my pockets you don't know about."
Get him too angry and he might come crashing through that door with his army. Gotta find a way out of this. Hours before daylight and already proven I can't outrace these things. Probably this guy has tricks as well. Sigh, how do I get myself into these messes?
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Post by Admin on Jun 7, 2020 8:30:04 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/255tMbq/11385775-w-1024-amp-h-1024~jpg "You are the dweller on the threshold, the opener of the way. Come now, open the door, it is Dworkin and his house we want; once we are in you can go without any hassle from us.""No! No1 Don't let them in chld of Amber!" Dworkin calls from another room. "Don't let them steal my treasures!"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2020 4:41:25 GMT
"Dweller on the threshold...? What does that even mean? True I'm standing by the front door as you can plainly hear. Wouldn't say what I'm doing is "dwelling". Now, hold on here. You just told me that this isn't the real Dworkin. So if you want him and his house it's somewhere else you need to go, right? And why do you need me to open the door? It's old and barely holding on as is. Not too hard to push through despite my efforts. Don't need me at all. You're just not making much sense there, mister. Don't know what you're selling but I ain't buying. Now, unless there's anything else you have, I suggest you go on home. And take your ghosts with you. Creepy things they are."
Concerned that violence may be immanent Edmund backs away from the door and crouches behind an old piece of furniture.
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Post by Admin on Jun 13, 2020 6:56:24 GMT
#s://i~ibb~co/255tMbq/11385775-w-1024-amp-h-1024~jpg The door bursts open from a kick by the man. "Just trying to be polite. I find it is a lost art in these dark times," he says. The man is thin, of average height, and wears a black suit and tie with a spotlessly clean white shirt. His hair is red, skin a pale green but covered in a thick layer of soot. Disconcertingly, the pupils of his eyes are dancing purple flame and behind his perfect white teeth his mouth is also filled with flame. One hand holds a clipboard, the other a long club. Behind him, the ghosts gather and with his gesture they rush past him into the house, past Edmund, then into other rooms and places.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 24, 2020 19:11:25 GMT
Edmund pauses for a moment to take in the scene. "Huh, nice dresser. You're right though, politeness is lost." In a surprise move Edmund drops his axe and grabs onto the back of the chair he's hiding behind. He straightens up and hauls the chair off of the ground and runs toward the man hoping to ram him in the torso and back out of the house. In the ensuing melee he'll try to disarm his opponent and smash a fist into his gut while the chair engages the man's attention.
A demon? Well, why not?
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Post by Admin on Jun 27, 2020 9:09:01 GMT
The man (demon?) is surprised by Edmund's manoeuvre and hasn't the time to raise his club bore the chair knocks him back out the door onto the stoop. However, the chair is wider than the doorframe and it breaks apart in Edmond's hands. The man drops his club and clipboard and with great agility jumps back onto his feet as Edmund advances. He manages to parry Edmund's first two punches but doesn't get an opportunity to throw any punches of his own.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 10, 2020 3:12:37 GMT
"Politeness! Pew! You lied to me. And disturbed my time. Now I'll have to decide what to do with you." Edmund moves left and right looking for an opening. Fists raised chest high. If I punch him in the mouth would that burn my hand? If I knuckle him in the gut would he belch flame at me? One way to find out. Better make this fast, who knows what those ghosts are doing to the old man. Or he to them.
Taking a chance, Edmund commits to action. He feints a low blow with his right fist to the guts but puts his main power behind his left thumb to the throat. After that he doesn't hesitate but rains more blows to various parts of the torso testing the man/demon's defenses. He tries to remain cognizant of the position of the man and his club, keep between the two. He may have to use it.
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Post by Admin on Jul 12, 2020 5:30:00 GMT
The man is agile and fast on his feet. His body seems flow as if his bones are made of jelly as he dodges Edgar's punches. What would be a solid hit against most foes is just a glancing blow off his rubbery skin. He floats like a butterfly and stings like one too; his punches in return are telegraphed and Edgar easily blocks or side-steps them. He does try to slide around Edgar to get closer to his club but E is always able to cut in front of him.
"We have descended from pure air," he says.
From the house Edgar can hear Dworkin screeching and stamping his feet as if putting out a fire. Pinewer neighs loudly and begins to stomp his hooves on the wooden floor obviously becomming distressed about something in the building.
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