Tyki Mikk (AU) (
solo_insanity) wrote2013-01-08 09:08 pm
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[It is dawn or sunset? Hard to tell, but there is the sky above is turning all shades of orange, purple and even some pink here and there. This certainly isn't where you last remembered yourself.
You are currently standing on a platform. To the left is a the sounds of gears moving, people shouting, and people milling about but a thick column of smoke blocks it from view. To the right is a forest of bamboo stalks swaying in the breeze.
Look down and the platform underneath while very thick is made of glass. The room is pink and lacy, frilly, and, oh, ever not so manly at all.]
[ooc: This is open to anyone that comes across it really. Just jump right in. This is a heart game. Think of it as a dungeon crawl through Tyki's heart. Messing with things will have side effects, but that means you should do it anyway. :)]
You are currently standing on a platform. To the left is a the sounds of gears moving, people shouting, and people milling about but a thick column of smoke blocks it from view. To the right is a forest of bamboo stalks swaying in the breeze.
Look down and the platform underneath while very thick is made of glass. The room is pink and lacy, frilly, and, oh, ever not so manly at all.]
[ooc: This is open to anyone that comes across it really. Just jump right in. This is a heart game. Think of it as a dungeon crawl through Tyki's heart. Messing with things will have side effects, but that means you should do it anyway. :)]
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I might.
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Mm. Nevermind.
... Mind telling me where we are, though? I've gotten turned around somewhere.
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[And I forget to keep putting that everyone here is in white form. No Noah markings to be seen.]
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No worries. In this particular case, it wouldn't have appreciably altered his reactions.]Depends on the answer, doesn't it?
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Knowing may or may not change my situation. I can't think of any way telling me would change yours.
[He wasn't really serious about asking where he was before; it's all the Dressing Room, as far as he's concerned. Now, though, all the secrecy makes him want to knooow.]
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Come here.
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[Tapping his forehead with a lack of markings.]
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[He approaches cautiously, although he tries to seem blasé about it.]
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Well?
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Well, I suppose I should ask if you did enjoy the tour in my head.
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[Give him a minute. The cogs are turning.]
... Ah. Well... Perhaps I should put things back.
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... Why is your head mostly a series of rooms? Do you often have visitors here?
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