Chrono Harlaown (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magicissrsbznz) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paixaorpg2012-12-26 05:50 am
magicissrsbznz) wrote in paixaorpg2012-12-26 05:50 am
Entry tags:
Hell Is A Nice Place to Visit, But... [Active]
Character(s): Chrono, open
Content: Hell's not such a bad place to visit, it turns out
Setting: Sixth floor, random locations
Time: A couple days after this thread
Warnings: None at the present
I wouldn't want to live here. That thought was foremost in Chrono's head as he explored the opulent but very... thematic palace. It was very much of a type, namely the type where you usually find the Big Bad sitting on the throne and cackling as its subjects are disemboweled.
Yeah. This looked like that kind of place.
Fortunately, that was where resemblances stopped. The rooms were really quite nice to stand about in, despite the pits of lava and huge torches, and while there most certainly were monsters of nearly every type he could imagine, none of them seemed hostile. Most of them, in point of fact, were asleep. The ones that weren't were chatty and amiable enough, in an 'I'm supposed to be on guard duty? Hah!' sort of way.
And there was the throne room. In it was what appeared to be the only piece of furniture not belonging to someone else - except that it belonged to Laharl, self-proclaimed overlord of this world. He sounded rather young to fit the role, but there were stories of boy kings even where Chrono was from, so he supposed it could work. (Obviously no one had told him how old Laharl really was, or in point of fact -what- he was. He thought it best not to ask just yet, but the place was giving him very definite impressions.)
At the moment, Chrono was looking for someone to talk to, in the hope of making some sort of sense of what had happened. He gathered that the 'fair city' was in dire straits, and that it was probably because of someone like himself, an Outsider (and oh, how the natives loved to pronounce that capital O), but that didn't tell him why. There were a lot of whys he wanted to know at the moment, and his training was telling him that he might find some of his answers here. After all, this was where most of the refugees - and he could think of the displaced Outsider population in no other way - had ended up.
Content: Hell's not such a bad place to visit, it turns out
Setting: Sixth floor, random locations
Time: A couple days after this thread
Warnings: None at the present
I wouldn't want to live here. That thought was foremost in Chrono's head as he explored the opulent but very... thematic palace. It was very much of a type, namely the type where you usually find the Big Bad sitting on the throne and cackling as its subjects are disemboweled.
Yeah. This looked like that kind of place.
Fortunately, that was where resemblances stopped. The rooms were really quite nice to stand about in, despite the pits of lava and huge torches, and while there most certainly were monsters of nearly every type he could imagine, none of them seemed hostile. Most of them, in point of fact, were asleep. The ones that weren't were chatty and amiable enough, in an 'I'm supposed to be on guard duty? Hah!' sort of way.
And there was the throne room. In it was what appeared to be the only piece of furniture not belonging to someone else - except that it belonged to Laharl, self-proclaimed overlord of this world. He sounded rather young to fit the role, but there were stories of boy kings even where Chrono was from, so he supposed it could work. (Obviously no one had told him how old Laharl really was, or in point of fact -what- he was. He thought it best not to ask just yet, but the place was giving him very definite impressions.)
At the moment, Chrono was looking for someone to talk to, in the hope of making some sort of sense of what had happened. He gathered that the 'fair city' was in dire straits, and that it was probably because of someone like himself, an Outsider (and oh, how the natives loved to pronounce that capital O), but that didn't tell him why. There were a lot of whys he wanted to know at the moment, and his training was telling him that he might find some of his answers here. After all, this was where most of the refugees - and he could think of the displaced Outsider population in no other way - had ended up.