(no subject)

[shesepankh.livejournal.com]

[The Underground has shifted.

The Underground has rearranged itself and has made way for a new chamber: dark and humid as any cave or grave or hollow, with walls alive with electric colors of paint in sour greens and jarring yellows and shrieking reds and all other piercing colors offensive to nature and splashed or shattered or stabbed onto the walls at angles and fractured points. Look carefully among those corners and jagged letters, and see words that may yet be familiar--words of poets and philosophers alike.

Come, Seeker, and pass through the narrow door, under the low lintel, and see what shelters in this cleft of concrete and heaved-up Underground, who has decked a chamber in broken glass and broken pipes, who lights the perpetual Underground night with flickering fluorescence and with sparks.

They are nimble, yet they are made of iron. They are mechanical, yet they are oiled in blood. They will hear and answer five questions from you and they would ask and hear five answers from you alike.

Mind their riddles and mind their claws (for their claws are words as much as they are iron).

A ward will bar the way, Intruder, if more than one should dare to enter at a time. The way is shut to you. And you shall neither see nor hear nor understand that which transpires between the Seeker and the Sphinxes.

Who Seeks?]

[ooc: For those players who volunteered their characters for an "interview" here, here is a log where your character can speak to the sphinxes. Feel free to do it in long form or action tags, as you please. But be prepared: the sphinxes can be merciless--! Good luck...]

Comments

[saynotnaught.livejournal.com]

[ It turns on its back, tail slapping hard against rock, its claws curling to... paw at the air. It almost ignores Eames, for a moment, and yet... ]

And what do you dream we do here?

[shesepankh.livejournal.com]

[saynotnaught.livejournal.com]

[ Said tail dances in intruding hands for a moment, before the creature moves it against the wall, harming it without seeming effort. ]

[signatures]

[ Eames watches the interaction for a moment. His immediate response would be something flightly, round-about - that his dreams leave to expansive and unspecific answers, that they could do anything at all in the realm of the possibilities that Eames is capable of dreaming of. That the answer would be, ultimately, unsatisfying so that they should focus on Eames' own inquiry otherwise. However, he knows how death works here, finds himself unenticed by the idea of putting his own defenses up against that tail, so decides that the blunt of it is his best route for now. ]

I'd peg you for gatekeepers, of sorts. [ Ferrymen, security, what have you. Not real, being most astute. ]

[shesepankh.livejournal.com]

Gatekeepers. Of sorts.

[saynotnaught.livejournal.com]

[ The tail returns, snaking on the ground, taunting. ]

[heremakhet.livejournal.com]

[And what a tail it is. Eyes move from the tail to the tail hunter to the guest.]

So you stand here at our gate of sorts, with the gate keepers.

[It pauses and rubs it's chin once, twice, then stares long at Eames before continuing perhaps remembering itself.]

Of sorts.

sorry guys! I didn't get any of these notifs.

[signatures]

The next prompt ought to be what is it you're keeping, then, hm?