Post by Falling Rock/Lei Feng on Dec 11, 2013 8:30:22 GMT -8
Winter is coming . . .
"Toolbox, three-quarters wrench."
The industrious little golem handed him the requested tool. Satisfied with a job well done, it once again took to roaming the lab for tools to pick up.
No, the Starks had it wrong. Winter isn't coming. Winter is here. It's difficult to exist in this world of cold. He was supposed to be helping with getting the humans to believe in magic again. He was working with Chip on that, but in the meantime, Moira got it into her head to dress him up like a steam punk Santa Claus and have him make toys for passing children. The idea was to get them believing in magic again, and what better way than to renew their wonderment of the holiday? Renew dreams.
"Heh, that's the problem. I'm no dream. I'm a Nocker. I'm a nightmare."
It was winter, and he had to adapt. It's not enough to try to hold on to the dreams of Summer. In the end, sometimes you have to learn to embrace the nightmares of Winter. It's simple survival of the fittest. You adapt, or you perish.
"Fear . . . fear is the answer . . . Nelson already said he was afraid of me. If I can frighten a Redcap, I can frighten anyone."
"Maybe . . . maybe it's not me he fears, but what I'm capable of, what I'm willing to do."
As he tightens the final bolt on his latest creation, he looks upon its splendor. Taking two slices of bread, he places them inside and activates it. With a bright flash, the machine completes its task with a delightful bell ring. He removes the bread, taking a bite . . . chewing . . .
"HA! Perfect! Now I'll have perfect toast every morning. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
His maniacal laughter echoes throughout the mansion.
"Toolbox, three-quarters wrench."
The industrious little golem handed him the requested tool. Satisfied with a job well done, it once again took to roaming the lab for tools to pick up.
No, the Starks had it wrong. Winter isn't coming. Winter is here. It's difficult to exist in this world of cold. He was supposed to be helping with getting the humans to believe in magic again. He was working with Chip on that, but in the meantime, Moira got it into her head to dress him up like a steam punk Santa Claus and have him make toys for passing children. The idea was to get them believing in magic again, and what better way than to renew their wonderment of the holiday? Renew dreams.
"Heh, that's the problem. I'm no dream. I'm a Nocker. I'm a nightmare."
It was winter, and he had to adapt. It's not enough to try to hold on to the dreams of Summer. In the end, sometimes you have to learn to embrace the nightmares of Winter. It's simple survival of the fittest. You adapt, or you perish.
"Fear . . . fear is the answer . . . Nelson already said he was afraid of me. If I can frighten a Redcap, I can frighten anyone."
"Maybe . . . maybe it's not me he fears, but what I'm capable of, what I'm willing to do."
As he tightens the final bolt on his latest creation, he looks upon its splendor. Taking two slices of bread, he places them inside and activates it. With a bright flash, the machine completes its task with a delightful bell ring. He removes the bread, taking a bite . . . chewing . . .
"HA! Perfect! Now I'll have perfect toast every morning. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
His maniacal laughter echoes throughout the mansion.
