Life - Notification
They changed the sound of notifications. I almost didn't even notice. And yet I couldn't not. They changed the sound, and my fingers no longer tense as my heart seizes when I hear it.
It used to have a specific meaning in my brain, it use to evoke a specific, pavlovian response to me.
They changed the sound. The old one is gone.
I could have changed it at any time. I am aware of the process for it, perhaps in a dream I even did once or twice. Imagining different outcomes perhaps.
They changed the sound, and I have returned to that platform.
It's different now.
They took the choice from me. I'm not sure if that makes me happy...or not.
Friday, March 29, 2019
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Theatre - Beauty and Sadness
Theatre - Beauty and Sadness
Theatre doesn't last.
Only in people's memories,
and in their hearts.
That's the beauty and sadness
of it.
But that's life.
Beauty and sadness.
And that is why theatre is
life.
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
West Marches - Darkwood
West Marches - Darkwood
The chilly woods of the Forks had long become a place of ease to Sedriks. The Bard found an easy rapport wandering the shaded places. Logic said he should’ve brought Azais or Quiz, that there would be better safety in numbers, but everyone seemed to be so busy since the escape from Sou’Brook, plots and plans, making ready for the trip to Wyford and gathering information.
Sedriks however, felt strangely cut off. Or maybe himself cut off, distant and nodding, giving out bags of coin when necessary and being strangely ghost like to the others. Until now, away from the guild, walking without rhythm over logs and through bush.
No one followed him, and so no one was there to see the slow transition from Sedriks the Bard to Ceridwen the….whatever she was.
The chilly woods of the Forks had long become a place of ease to Sedriks. The Bard found an easy rapport wandering the shaded places. Logic said he should’ve brought Azais or Quiz, that there would be better safety in numbers, but everyone seemed to be so busy since the escape from Sou’Brook, plots and plans, making ready for the trip to Wyford and gathering information.
Sedriks however, felt strangely cut off. Or maybe himself cut off, distant and nodding, giving out bags of coin when necessary and being strangely ghost like to the others. Until now, away from the guild, walking without rhythm over logs and through bush.
No one followed him, and so no one was there to see the slow transition from Sedriks the Bard to Ceridwen the….whatever she was.
Wednesday, March 13, 2019
West Marches - Between Friends
West Marches - Between Friends
It is midmorning, the guild hall at the Forks is already coming to life, Riders are attending to supplies, equipment, the smell of Cecil cooking bacon wafts through the halls.
But in the far wing of rooms, Sedriks' door is closed and silent. The bard having been carried there after the magical exertion of opening a gateway between trees. Lute prowls outside the door, occasionally scratching at the wood to no avail.
It is midmorning, the guild hall at the Forks is already coming to life, Riders are attending to supplies, equipment, the smell of Cecil cooking bacon wafts through the halls.
But in the far wing of rooms, Sedriks' door is closed and silent. The bard having been carried there after the magical exertion of opening a gateway between trees. Lute prowls outside the door, occasionally scratching at the wood to no avail.
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