[A couple of inkspots appear on the page, as if the owner of the journal is pondering what to write. Then a short pause, and it switches over to voice. Or perhaps "voice." After a minute of nothing but the wind and the faint sound of the river, the entry is cut off by the sound of the journal closing.
... Or is it?
About a half-hour later, there is a muffled thump and the sound of pages flapping through the air before another soft whump. Did someone... punch something over? Faintly, there's a note on a flute. Another, another... an... ear-piercing shrill.] I don't understand why this is so- [Soft grumbling. If one listens closely, they can pick out the occasional word. Something about some "Veros" character, and several shocking allegations about questionable portions of his anatomy. Yet another pause, and then...
SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Shortly followed by a small splash.
...
And then hurried footsteps and a much larger one.]
... Or is it?
About a half-hour later, there is a muffled thump and the sound of pages flapping through the air before another soft whump. Did someone... punch something over? Faintly, there's a note on a flute. Another, another... an... ear-piercing shrill.] I don't understand why this is so- [Soft grumbling. If one listens closely, they can pick out the occasional word. Something about some "Veros" character, and several shocking allegations about questionable portions of his anatomy. Yet another pause, and then...
SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Shortly followed by a small splash.
...
And then hurried footsteps and a much larger one.]
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chasethestars
chasethestars
Comments
Uhm--everyone okay over there? Whoever you are?
It's fine.
Sigmund?
Man, if you wanted to kill somebody, there's faster ways to do it!
So what were you trying to do, really? Seeing as big bad knights aren't usually the torturing type.
I'm fine. It's fine. [Only dying of embarrassment, nothing else.]
M... my lord...?
...That was unintentional.
Are you alright?
[He's a little afraid to ask wtf is going on.]
Merely a poorly tuned flute. My apologies, Richard.
Are you down at the lake?
Any of what?
It is merely a flute.