The City of the Specter, Atem's Palace

[metagame]

The corpse sinks to the floor
Even the brightest gold, even the sharpest blade
Becomes sand, becomes dust

Comments

[metagame]

Wow! Scrolls! There are so many of them!

[prozaic]

[Fine... he's picking one up to read... (13)]

[metagame]

Shalem finds a Wisdom text that someone (Atem) has drawn penises all over. It's illegible.

[prozaic]

[Yep, putting that away because kids gotta be kids. Of course. He's simply going to walk along the shelves, brushing his hand all over the scrolls.]

Atem. [His sanity's recovered enough that his voice is back to its usual cadence.] Are you happy here?

[A simple question.]

[metagame]

[He snorts.]

What kind of question is that?

[prozaic]

One that you do not like, evidently. Should I ask you your favourite one, then? [He doesn't blink at Atem, but flicks his tongue out, snake-like. He's full of bad ideas, but his condition is dropping even lower, he sees nothing wrong with what he will do next.]

Shall we play a game?

[metagame]

Aw, you didn't give me a chance to ask first!

[He drops all pretense.]

Alright, Shalem. Let's play. But if you lose, just like Jesse... you'll suffer a penalty.

How about we try the same game, hm? Four Aces. Draw two cards of the same color, and you win.

[prozaic]

Very well. I accept those terms. [He knows he's miserable at games, but still. Right now, he doesn't care.

But then he gets the two red Aces... Well then.]

[metagame]

[He whistles!]

Aren't you the lucky one?

[prozaic]

[He gives a nod, a graceful winner.]

It seems so. Alas, I do not receive a prize.