Patrollogs
(Solomon's nightmare battle with Tabitha)
[Thu Jun 20 2024]
In the bedroom of a Small Parsonage
The bedroom in this rustic parsonage is modest and comfortable. Up against the north wall is a sturdy, wooden bed with soft, inviting bedding; next to it, a small bedside table with a lamp. A window with simple curtains allows natural light to fill the room, offering views of the surrounding forest. The walls are unadorned save for a cross high up above the bed.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
"Well," Solomon says, his basso voice rumbling. "And here we are, back into it. Once more -- this world is one which is and will always be Damned, if we are to survive." He searches around, his red eyes scanning the nightmare.
"They are not that tight," Tabitha begins but then stops midthought when the world shifts on her and goes dark. "Well, son of a .... You. Great. I am Damned."
"That's a familiar voice." Solomon's own voice is full of awful joy. "Is that you, Tabitha Matheson? Have you missed me?"
"Like a wart," Tabitha remarks to the familiar voice.
Solomon checks the flayed human skin that wraps the hilt of his sword. "You wound me."
If eyes rolling could be heard, Tabitha's would be heard. "Shut up." She can be heard rummaging through her things and then a light, uncommon curse comes up. "Just fucking great..."
"It's late, Tabitha, or else I might take you up on that offer," Solomon tells someone. "I don't imagine it's what Venice had in mind for these assignations, but."
"It's late, Tabitha, or else I might take you up on that offer," Solomon tells the voice in the darkness. "I don't imagine it's what Venice had in mind for these assignations, but."
"There's no offer, Solomon." Tabitha says with some contempt in her voice for the situation and the combatant there that she now can see. She blinks at him owlishly, her hands free of weapons, despite that she is armored.
It's a step forward -- a long, loping stride, and then the demonic figure in black steel mail has his sword in hand. Solomon drops, twists, and then it's some blow. "Come now," he says to Tabitha. "We'll have our moment."
The woman is twisty -- Solomon swings again, coming up now to force her to drop back in some nightmare assault. "Come now," he tells her.
"In your dreams, you disgusting worm." Tabitha hisses out as she is slashed at with his sword and fancy foot work to slash it at her. Despite having tried to dodge from the blade, it clearly nicks her, and she is checking the padding of her armor.
Now it's a kick forward, a booted foot hitting Tabitha's vest with some awful, titanic strength. "Come now," Solomon tells her, sword in hand. "My dreams are made flesh."
Tabitha stumbles back from Solomon's kick. "Does it make you feel big and proud to attack an unarmed woman.." She tries to keep her feet, wheeling her arms around. "This is not going to go forgotten. I may forgive more than I ought... but I will remember."
"I did not seek this out," Solomon admits. He leaps over obstacles, sword in hand, and then there's another battering blow against Tabitha. "But I do not hate it. Though --" A pause. "It is not how I imagined our reunion."
"How did you expect that it would happen?" Tabitha asks, her armor padding much of the deep slash of a blade against her. "Did you think I would be happy and come to accept your bullshit story of how I'm meant for you?" She tries a laugh, but its pained, certainly.
And then -- then the opportunity. "For now?" Solomon says to Tabitha. "For now, I think you will remember me, Tabitha -- and know I am looking." He brings the sword up; some back-spin, a pain in Tabitha's leg, and then reality fades back in.
Tabitha fades out of the nightmare.
Solomons Nightmare Battle With Tabitha 240621
(Solomon's nightmare battle with Tabitha)
[Thu Jun 20 2024]
In the bedroom of a Small Parsonage
The bedroom in this rustic parsonage is modest and comfortable. Up against the north wall is a sturdy, wooden bed with soft, inviting bedding; next to it, a small bedside table with a lamp. A window with simple curtains allows natural light to fill the room, offering views of the surrounding forest. The walls are unadorned save for a cross high up above the bed.
It is about 65F(18C) degrees.
"Well," Solomon says, his basso voice rumbling. "And here we are, back into it. Once more -- this world is one which is and will always be Damned, if we are to survive." He searches around, his red eyes scanning the nightmare.
"They are not that tight," Tabitha begins but then stops midthought when the world shifts on her and goes dark. "Well, son of a .... You. Great. I am Damned."
"That's a familiar voice." Solomon's own voice is full of awful joy. "Is that you, Tabitha Matheson? Have you missed me?"
"Like a wart," Tabitha remarks to the familiar voice.
Solomon checks the flayed human skin that wraps the hilt of his sword. "You wound me."
If eyes rolling could be heard, Tabitha's would be heard. "Shut up." She can be heard rummaging through her things and then a light, uncommon curse comes up. "Just fucking great..."
"It's late, Tabitha, or else I might take you up on that offer," Solomon tells someone. "I don't imagine it's what Venice had in mind for these assignations, but."
"It's late, Tabitha, or else I might take you up on that offer," Solomon tells the voice in the darkness. "I don't imagine it's what Venice had in mind for these assignations, but."
"There's no offer, Solomon." Tabitha says with some contempt in her voice for the situation and the combatant there that she now can see. She blinks at him owlishly, her hands free of weapons, despite that she is armored.
It's a step forward -- a long, loping stride, and then the demonic figure in black steel mail has his sword in hand. Solomon drops, twists, and then it's some blow. "Come now," he says to Tabitha. "We'll have our moment."
The woman is twisty -- Solomon swings again, coming up now to force her to drop back in some nightmare assault. "Come now," he tells her.
"In your dreams, you disgusting worm." Tabitha hisses out as she is slashed at with his sword and fancy foot work to slash it at her. Despite having tried to dodge from the blade, it clearly nicks her, and she is checking the padding of her armor.
Now it's a kick forward, a booted foot hitting Tabitha's vest with some awful, titanic strength. "Come now," Solomon tells her, sword in hand. "My dreams are made flesh."
Tabitha stumbles back from Solomon's kick. "Does it make you feel big and proud to attack an unarmed woman.." She tries to keep her feet, wheeling her arms around. "This is not going to go forgotten. I may forgive more than I ought... but I will remember."
"I did not seek this out," Solomon admits. He leaps over obstacles, sword in hand, and then there's another battering blow against Tabitha. "But I do not hate it. Though --" A pause. "It is not how I imagined our reunion."
"How did you expect that it would happen?" Tabitha asks, her armor padding much of the deep slash of a blade against her. "Did you think I would be happy and come to accept your bullshit story of how I'm meant for you?" She tries a laugh, but its pained, certainly.
And then -- then the opportunity. "For now?" Solomon says to Tabitha. "For now, I think you will remember me, Tabitha -- and know I am looking." He brings the sword up; some back-spin, a pain in Tabitha's leg, and then reality fades back in.
Tabitha fades out of the nightmare.