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TheNight
Meteorite
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2020
(This is a mirror of my introduction thread. Enjoy.)
The fading rays of the evening sun provided just enough light in the study. No lamps were lit, and the hearth was cold, despite the chill in the air and the threat of rain with the night. The shelves were filled with volumes, some of them quite common, but many covering subjects of a darker nature. Writings were scattered across a vast desk where a lone figure scribbled final notes.
Despite the sun, the man seemed to be in shadow, and his features were indiscernible to the casual observer. Still, his presence was powerful, and clearly capable of great intimidation when properly leveraged. For those that had the unfortunate instance, he was also capable of great violence. For the moment though, his mind was being exercised, and prepped for the night to come. He knew that violence was physical, but terror was mental. And he was both.
A lean, elderly man appeared in the doorway. He knew he was in no danger, but still hesitated to impose upon his employer.
"What is it?" The man at the desk questioned in a commanding, yet hushed tone. He had paused writing, taking a moment to look out the window. A bustling city filled the skyline. It was being presented as the model for the future of all mankind. Technologies of steam and electricity, a learned culture, advancing beyond the old myths and legends. A city of fools.
The old man cleared his throat. "Will you be having supper in, this evening, sir?"
The Night, eyes closed now, sniffed in the scents on the breeze that came through the open window. "It's a witches moon." He stood, slamming a volume closed and gathering the papers he had been writing. "I'll be going out."
The elderly man only nodded and turned, knowing precisely what that meant.
***
Imagine a world, Victorian in style, with steampunk elements. A world that had tried to suppress the magic and myth that longed to thrive again. That is the world that we will live in. There's plenty of room for you to mold your desires into it. Would you care to join me?
The Night is a hunter of the evils that seek to consume mankind. They take many shapes and forms, and he is brutal in exacting his terror upon them. Knowing him, one would wonder if he was not evil himself, but then isn't that the fine line we all walk?
And who are you? Do you think you can walk with the Night? Why don't you join him for a cup of tea in his study. I'm sure you have much to discuss.
***
I hope this gives my fellow writers a little idea of what I have to offer and what I'm looking to do. This is a story in a world that is wide open for any pursuits you might have. Message me or reach out on Discord (Night#8931) and let's see what happens.
The fading rays of the evening sun provided just enough light in the study. No lamps were lit, and the hearth was cold, despite the chill in the air and the threat of rain with the night. The shelves were filled with volumes, some of them quite common, but many covering subjects of a darker nature. Writings were scattered across a vast desk where a lone figure scribbled final notes.
Despite the sun, the man seemed to be in shadow, and his features were indiscernible to the casual observer. Still, his presence was powerful, and clearly capable of great intimidation when properly leveraged. For those that had the unfortunate instance, he was also capable of great violence. For the moment though, his mind was being exercised, and prepped for the night to come. He knew that violence was physical, but terror was mental. And he was both.
A lean, elderly man appeared in the doorway. He knew he was in no danger, but still hesitated to impose upon his employer.
"What is it?" The man at the desk questioned in a commanding, yet hushed tone. He had paused writing, taking a moment to look out the window. A bustling city filled the skyline. It was being presented as the model for the future of all mankind. Technologies of steam and electricity, a learned culture, advancing beyond the old myths and legends. A city of fools.
The old man cleared his throat. "Will you be having supper in, this evening, sir?"
The Night, eyes closed now, sniffed in the scents on the breeze that came through the open window. "It's a witches moon." He stood, slamming a volume closed and gathering the papers he had been writing. "I'll be going out."
The elderly man only nodded and turned, knowing precisely what that meant.
***
Imagine a world, Victorian in style, with steampunk elements. A world that had tried to suppress the magic and myth that longed to thrive again. That is the world that we will live in. There's plenty of room for you to mold your desires into it. Would you care to join me?
The Night is a hunter of the evils that seek to consume mankind. They take many shapes and forms, and he is brutal in exacting his terror upon them. Knowing him, one would wonder if he was not evil himself, but then isn't that the fine line we all walk?
And who are you? Do you think you can walk with the Night? Why don't you join him for a cup of tea in his study. I'm sure you have much to discuss.
***
I hope this gives my fellow writers a little idea of what I have to offer and what I'm looking to do. This is a story in a world that is wide open for any pursuits you might have. Message me or reach out on Discord (Night#8931) and let's see what happens.