1 - Torture [The dreams had been troubling but after the whole mess in the basement of the building, Ankh decided that he could not tell anyone about them. Which was good and fine even though he knew that someone would soon find out about the stupid online searches and call him out. After all, how many rockers had a keen interest in alchemy and the concepts of desire? Especially one that was working in a pop rock band?
But he can explain it away, and even have a melody to use for a song basis. It was just the other stuff that he was having problems with, like the urge to fly and the almost physical need for anything red. But that was good too. He can explain it all. Even the dreams about the king, the murderous rage that form put him in, and even the sound of coins only he could hear. He can deal with it.
Then came the blow deep within, the feeling of something needed getting ripped out. Ankh could taste blood on his lips, feel the pounding of his heart, hear the cracking of a coin.]
My Core....
2 - Hall of the Mountain King [Ankh had found his way down to the museum and was presently in the old European castle area. For a long moment he will stand behind a suit of armor, just staring at it and then he attempts to hit it but for some reason he keeps on missing. Either he stops before fully hitting it and shakes his head, or he jumps back, crouching down with his back arching and his arms open like either he expected them to turn into wings so he can fly.
All the while, he is muttering in an anarchic version of German. For anyone that might know the language it almost sounds like he was talking about how to get some kind of medal back from the king.]
Wildcard - Time Judged All [So there is a blond guitarist trying t build a kind of cozy nest in the center of the common area. He has dragged a bunch of cushions off of various chairs and sofas, taken a bunch of sheets and blankets off of whatever beds he could find (even a few from linen closets he could access), and then filled up the lacking spots with pillows and bean bags and anything else that is comfy and warm and soft.
He is also a sobbing mess but denies that when anyone tries talking to him. Unless they are of the Duty/Passion groups and then he will just cling and tell them to shut up.]
Ankh | Hope | Virgo HQ
[The dreams had been troubling but after the whole mess in the basement of the building, Ankh decided that he could not tell anyone about them. Which was good and fine even though he knew that someone would soon find out about the stupid online searches and call him out. After all, how many rockers had a keen interest in alchemy and the concepts of desire? Especially one that was working in a pop rock band?
But he can explain it away, and even have a melody to use for a song basis. It was just the other stuff that he was having problems with, like the urge to fly and the almost physical need for anything red. But that was good too. He can explain it all. Even the dreams about the king, the murderous rage that form put him in, and even the sound of coins only he could hear. He can deal with it.
Then came the blow deep within, the feeling of something needed getting ripped out. Ankh could taste blood on his lips, feel the pounding of his heart, hear the cracking of a coin.]
My Core....
2 - Hall of the Mountain King
[Ankh had found his way down to the museum and was presently in the old European castle area. For a long moment he will stand behind a suit of armor, just staring at it and then he attempts to hit it but for some reason he keeps on missing. Either he stops before fully hitting it and shakes his head, or he jumps back, crouching down with his back arching and his arms open like either he expected them to turn into wings so he can fly.
All the while, he is muttering in an anarchic version of German. For anyone that might know the language it almost sounds like he was talking about how to get some kind of medal back from the king.]
Wildcard - Time Judged All
[So there is a blond guitarist trying t build a kind of cozy nest in the center of the common area. He has dragged a bunch of cushions off of various chairs and sofas, taken a bunch of sheets and blankets off of whatever beds he could find (even a few from linen closets he could access), and then filled up the lacking spots with pillows and bean bags and anything else that is comfy and warm and soft.
He is also a sobbing mess but denies that when anyone tries talking to him. Unless they are of the Duty/Passion groups and then he will just cling and tell them to shut up.]