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playground:playground [2025/06/04 15:00] – [Reasons Why We Should Have an Arcade in the Market] owain_winde | playground:playground [2025/06/17 13:13] (current) – benedikta_von_kernholz | ||
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* Giselle x Joaquin = Silly String | * Giselle x Joaquin = Silly String | ||
* Simeon x Agnes = Mourning Dove | * Simeon x Agnes = Mourning Dove | ||
+ | |||
+ | * The Butler x The Architect = "This Is All You Have Left Of Him?" | ||
+ | * Maya x Rowan = A-maze-ing | ||
+ | * Fated Playerbase x The Act Of Making Fancasts = A Most Welcome Addiction | ||
+ | * Georg x Mrs Dijkstra = Not Plot Relevant | ||
+ | * Dórian x Agnes = Also Not Plot Relevant | ||
+ | |||
+ | * Glória x Magnus = Mourning Glory | ||
===== Help I Have Gone Delirious ===== | ===== Help I Have Gone Delirious ===== | ||
Amogsu\\ | Amogsu\\ | ||
Line 123: | Line 131: | ||
* Itascrius - thin skin | * Itascrius - thin skin | ||
* Fürge' | * Fürge' | ||
+ | * Home | ||
+ | |||
+ | ===== List of Places Owain is Allowed to Go Now ===== | ||
+ | * The Threshold | ||
+ | |||
+ | ===== This Definitely Actually Happened ===== | ||
+ | Berius: Why does Zephyr have a knife?\\ | ||
+ | The Gardener: They felt unsafe.\\ | ||
+ | Berius: Well, now I feel unsafe!\\ | ||
+ | |||
+ | //Nobody offers Berius a knife.// | ||
+ | |||
+ | -- It's true: I was the knife. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ---- But who was ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | ==== Wise Words from GM Rei ==== | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Not all those who are found are lost" - Rei, 09/06/2025 | ||
+ | |||
+ | ===== Everyone' | ||
+ | You are going about your normal day in the palace, and then you come across Hesket who is super cool and awesome and amazing and wins at life. You can't help but be amazed. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Oh and then you get to go free, because the brambles got bored and went home. | ||
+ | |||
+ | =====Citrus Boy===== | ||
+ | |||
+ | **Somewhere** | ||
+ | |||
+ | > What does it mean to end? | ||
+ | > Who are we, when it’s all over? | ||
+ | > And what comes after the close? | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > I lie in my bed | ||
+ | > And I try to think | ||
+ | > And in the meantime | ||
+ | > The city moves in sync. | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > Somewhere — | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > //A cocoon awaits// | ||
+ | > //Blinds shutter open// | ||
+ | > //Hands grace a shoulder// | ||
+ | > //And trees reach for sky// | ||
+ | > //Frost bites// | ||
+ | > //Birds fly// | ||
+ | > //Glass shines// | ||
+ | > //Lights die// | ||
+ | > //Wind on a clifftop// | ||
+ | > //A life to define// | ||
+ | > //Paint trickles down// | ||
+ | > //Tide starts to churn// | ||
+ | > //A cat curls up to sleep// | ||
+ | > //And the fire inside burns// — | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > I think that the world we know always turns. | ||
+ | > For even when the curtain falls | ||
+ | > The actors still get one last encore. | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > I think that the tale we write always returns. | ||
+ | > For even when the poem stops | ||
+ | > Our eyes still get to read it once more. | ||
+ | > | ||
+ | > For even when | ||
+ | > We put down our pen | ||
+ | > Somewhere — | ||
+ | > I think our story | ||
+ | > still breathes. | ||
+ | |||
+ | — //Oscar Lee Murcott, 18// | ||
+ | |||
+ |