A Time to Rise and a Time to Fall [Open to Multiple]

[andhiswife]

Greta dreams of falling (again, and again).

The path ends abruptly. Maybe there never was a path, only a deceptive stretch of ground, free of any undergrowth, that looked like it could be one. Either way, she's left standing on the edge of a sheer cliff, looking down at the leaf-strewn forest floor far below her. A small rock tumbles down, as if for the sole purpose of illustrating the length of the drop. It seems to take ages to reach the bottom, clattering off exposed roots and finally thudding to the ground.

There's a roaring in her ears like a great wind, but it isn't the wind. The earth shudders beneath her feet. She reaches out wildly for something on which to steady herself, knowing even as she does so that she'll miss; she always misses, it's so stupid. Maybe she deserves whatever comes next.

But she doesn't miss. Her hand closes around something - not a branch. An arm? Whatever it is, she isn't letting go.


[ooc: whoops, Greta's dropped into your dream. Or you've dropped into hers. Whether you want them both to be in her giant-plagued forest or in a setting more familiar to your character is up to you. Poor Greta's just gonna have to roll with it either way.]

Comments

[andhiswife]

"Oh!" She brightens a little. That wasn't the answer she was necessarily expecting, but it is the answer she wants. If this man can dispatch the giant, finding Jack won't be as urgent, and all will come to a happy end.

There's just the matter of him still being weaponless. "And how do you intend to do that?" she asks, giving him another little once-over, as if it'll turn out he was holding a great big sword all along and she just didn't notice it before. He's not wearing armor, either. "Are you… some sort of wizard?" she hazards. That might explain the odd garb. She almost hopes he isn't, though; it's bad enough being mixed up with a Witch.

[i_jones]

Wizard? Excuse you. Men controlling pyrotechnics from behind curtains are wizards. Isn't it obvious that he's a clothie? "I prefer warlock," he says demurely, rocking a little on his heels, and it's then that he notices the tremble of the earth. Oh, that giant. How does one actually take care of a giant? He'll have to invent a spell. Harry Potter is too cliché. Something Latinate, at least. "The, er, local warlock guild sent me. Crowdhoot. I'm sure you've heard of us."

[andhiswife]

"Warlock," she repeats, because if he does have some sort of magic she definitely doesn't want to insult him. Curses are bothersome things to unravel, and she'd rather not have to do it again. "I'm, er, I'm afraid I haven't heard of you, but… anything you can do to help…" she trails off hopefully, before another horrendous footfall makes her cringe. Whatever he does, he'll have to do it quickly.