It began with a sudden build up of clouds and a hard rain. “An unexpected confluence of warm, moist air and cold, dry air.” or so the television weatherman described it. But that couldn’t explain why the rain fell on only part of the city, or why most of it in feel on just a few square blocks. Clouds as thick as cotton that looked solid enough to walk on, swirling and rolling... flowing like rivers down to some secret sea. Some folk, those more imaginative, or perhaps more chemically stimulated
than others swear they saw shapes in those clouds... shapes that man was never meant to see....
Then the winds started to blow at street level. The temperature dropped 40 degrees in 4 minutes and kept falling, until, within half an hour New York summer heat was transformed into arctic winter. The rain turned first to sleet, then transformed into falling bullets, hail shooting down from the heavens as if a thousand machine guns were targeting Fabletown. The winds gibbered and shrieked, howling and screaming like two voices trying to deafen not only one another, but the world as well, by sheer volume and consistency.
That’s when the power went out, not that it mattered. If anyone had been brave or insane enough to look up, they would have seen the night sky lit as bright as day by lightning flashing back and forth from cloud to cloud like electric swords in the hands of master swordsmen dueling in a terrible, yet beautiful display of skill and reckless abandon. The thunder and wind grew louder, until it became impossible to hear the person next to you screaming in your ear... impossible, even, to hear your own screams. A cacophony of sound as if all the fireworks in all the world were going off in the ultimate firework grand finale.
Indoors, watches advanced half an hour while outside, an eternity passed. It was no longer hail shooting from the clouds, but icicles, twelve to twenty inch daggers of ice as hard as iron and as sharp as glass, flung from the apocalyptic clouds as if they had been sent to kill every living thing on Fabletown’s streets. But no one dared to so much as poke their head out through an ice-bound door or shattered window.
The clouds and winds beat against each other, elemental titans locked in mortal combat. And then, if a tornado could scream, if a hurricane could laugh, it might have sounded like that. Through ears stuffed with fingers, heads hidden beneath blankets or pillows, even to those that cowered within closets, the sound came. First a feral cry, fading away like distant thunder... then cold laughter lingering as the winds began to die down. “It’s good to get that finally settled between us, don’t you think?” the wind seemed to mutter.
As quickly as the terror began, it passed. Ice daggers turned to hail, then snow, then a gentle rain that evaporated to mist. The clouds broke up and melted away, evaporating as the morning summer sun brought warmth and light and life and hope back to the world. Amazingly efficient, city workers managed to have power restored by dawn.
It was peaceful again. Soon nothing was left to prove anything remarkable had happened in the darkness except the memories, and the broken windows, and a streetlight leaning at an impossible angle with its spotlight hovering over the frail looking body of an old woman who at first glance seemed to be sleeping peacefully. A closer examination revealed she was frozen solid.
Fabletown gathers together in the morning, look for support and comfort, grateful that there is a day to make plans in and for; grateful that, no matter how dark the night, there is always supposed to be a dawn; grateful that they aren’t the one lying there, flash-frozen. The residents of Fabletown meet to discuss what action they need to take today now that
MordyS - Frau Totenkinder
is no longer around to offer them her support.
But things have gotten even stranger. As the residents of Fabletown ponder their fates, they notice even more things. First, for some reason, the sun is clearly visibile in the mundy sky, but the section of the city where Fabletown lies remains unlit. There are no visible cloud remaining in the sky, yet the skies above remain gray. Heading back indoors, the town gathers in the office to see that last nights events affected them more than they knew. Scattered along the floor lie peices of
Gerhard Krausse - The Magic Mirror
, shattered beyond repair, yet its frame remains unmarked, but ice cold to the touch.
Suddenly, the voice of the Hanging Knight echoes throughout the halls of the Fabletown office, putting a chill into each member of the town.
"The Spirits have been awakened! Beware Their Power!"
Everyone is at a loss as to what to do next, and try to gather their bearings to prepare for the scariest day to come. Each member walks nervously looking over their shoulder, and occasionally they swear they see the faces of those who have passed recently. What will the day hold for our dear fables?
Lets find out.
Day 2 has begun
with 7 left alive, it will take 4 votes for a lynch.
Deadline ends 2 weeks from now.
Grimmy
(edited because I forgot that jazzy left the game)
