At an undisclosed location, the walls between fiction and reality are crumbling.
Welcome to the Playground.
“So what are you
in for?” Asked a dark haired man, his smokey eyes skeptical as he
watched me from the loveseat. I shrugged, shifting my hat while I
thought of an answer.
“I'm not quite
sure, Nifol. My best guess is that I am considered dangerous for
writing all this.” I sat next to him, hiding a smile as he shifted
away. We were in a common room, where many fantastical creatures and humanoids had gathered. My companion released a weary sigh.
“You do realize
that a majority of the creatures in here would kill you with little
forethought.”
“Oh, I know. But
what better way to view my characters then be in the story with
them?”
Nifol frowned, his
hand tightening to a fist. “I wouldn't call them characters if I
were you. Some can be quite temperamental about such things.” He
nodded towards an older man who was staring at a mirror. “Like him. He's lost so much control
over his life, that the only thing holding him together is some silly
idea that his path isn't set in stone.” Nifol smirked and shook his
head. He directed my gaze away from the old man, to one familiar face
after another. “Remember, it is not just a story to them, but their
lives.” Then he laughed, a surprisingly cheerful sound.
“What?”
“Nothing, my dear.
The sheer idiocy of everything simply surprised me.” He gestured at
me with a shake of his head. “I merely thought of how each word I
say is chosen by my own whim. You are the one handing out words,
despite every attempt to make us think otherwise.”
I rolled my eyes,
standing. Turning back to Nifol, I watched as he stretched his legs
to claim the space I had just vacated.
“Thanks for the
conversation, I quite enjoyed it.”
“I only said what
you wanted to hear. Whether I consider the implications behind that
is up to you.”
With a wave, I
turned away from Nifol, wondering what else I would meet in this facility.
“Thanks for
expanding your view, character mine.”
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