An Unfound Door, Chapter Twelve
Apr. 18th, 2024 08:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rynlingFhiad and Agnes enter the abandoned west wing of the castle by crossing a bridge, which crumbles into the lake after Fhiad shows Agnes how to break the magical seal that had previously barred her entry. As they walk, Fhiad admits that he wasn’t good at being a prince. All he wanted was to leave Erdbhein for the university in Cretia, as his talent at magic was the only thing that set him apart from his sisters. After entering the ruined section of the castle, Fhiad and Agnes play with the magical tools left behind in a lecture hall, gleefully not caring about the damage they cause.
.
This is a fun chapter. The currently occupied east wing of Faloren Castle is sad and empty, but the abandoned west wing is a ruin barely held together by magic. I did my best not to write too many scenes of people walking down corridors (my beloved), but I really enjoyed describing how decrepit the space is.
Out in the desert, ruins can last forever, but buildings affected by water damage deteriorate quickly. In that sense, my descriptions of this part of the castle are highly unrealistic. In my defense, it is a magic castle.
Fhiad and Agnes are kind of maybe a little bit flirting with each other in this chapter. The culmination of their flirtation is them trading a wizard staff between them to fuck shit up, like Link smashing pots in a dungeon just because he can. Personally speaking, this is 100% what I’d do if magic were real. Like, there’s the party game question of whether you would choose to fly or become invisible, but I think that’s a silly choice when you could potentially shoot lightning out of your hands. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone of course. I just think it would be neat to make junk cars explode.
As an aside, I spent a part of my childhood and teenage years in a rural area of middle Georgia. I went to an international school in Atlanta, and most of my friends were from school. I worked a bunch of part-time jobs around town, though, so I ended up being friends with a few groups of local kids as well. When I got off work in the evening or early morning, we would drive around the country roads and look for abandoned houses where we could sit and smoke weed and maybe have a few beers.
If this sounds “cool,” by the way, it was actually the opposite. Even as a teenager, sometimes you can get so tired that you can’t sleep, and smoking weed with friends was basically a way to take the edge off. But Kathryn, you may be saying. Why were you, as a teenager, working the night shift as a clerk at a truck stop gas station. That’s a good question. All I can tell you is that it was awful and I hated it.
Also please don’t drink and drive. Unless it’s 2am on a deserted local road in Bumblefuck Georgia, in which case it doesn’t really matter honestly. Not even the police are sober in that situation.
Anyway, a lot of these abandoned houses were filled with junk, and there was a definite pleasure in lining up old glass bottles along a rotten wooden porch railing and throwing rocks to smash them. The glass made a lovely sound when it shattered, and the broken shards were beautiful in the moonlight, like the opalescent shells of sea creatures.
There’s a scene in Night in the Woods when Gregg and Mae go out back behind the convenience store where Gregg works and smash a bunch of fluorescent lighting tubes while having a relatively chill and relaxing conversation. Same energy.
Fhiad and Agnes aren’t teenagers, of course, and neither of them is the sort of person who would work in a gas station or a convenience store. Still, I think this is an aspect of human nature that transcends time and place and social class. If the entire world’s already gone to shit, why not smash some glass? You know, as a treat.
.
This is a fun chapter. The currently occupied east wing of Faloren Castle is sad and empty, but the abandoned west wing is a ruin barely held together by magic. I did my best not to write too many scenes of people walking down corridors (my beloved), but I really enjoyed describing how decrepit the space is.
Out in the desert, ruins can last forever, but buildings affected by water damage deteriorate quickly. In that sense, my descriptions of this part of the castle are highly unrealistic. In my defense, it is a magic castle.
Fhiad and Agnes are kind of maybe a little bit flirting with each other in this chapter. The culmination of their flirtation is them trading a wizard staff between them to fuck shit up, like Link smashing pots in a dungeon just because he can. Personally speaking, this is 100% what I’d do if magic were real. Like, there’s the party game question of whether you would choose to fly or become invisible, but I think that’s a silly choice when you could potentially shoot lightning out of your hands. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone of course. I just think it would be neat to make junk cars explode.
As an aside, I spent a part of my childhood and teenage years in a rural area of middle Georgia. I went to an international school in Atlanta, and most of my friends were from school. I worked a bunch of part-time jobs around town, though, so I ended up being friends with a few groups of local kids as well. When I got off work in the evening or early morning, we would drive around the country roads and look for abandoned houses where we could sit and smoke weed and maybe have a few beers.
If this sounds “cool,” by the way, it was actually the opposite. Even as a teenager, sometimes you can get so tired that you can’t sleep, and smoking weed with friends was basically a way to take the edge off. But Kathryn, you may be saying. Why were you, as a teenager, working the night shift as a clerk at a truck stop gas station. That’s a good question. All I can tell you is that it was awful and I hated it.
Also please don’t drink and drive. Unless it’s 2am on a deserted local road in Bumblefuck Georgia, in which case it doesn’t really matter honestly. Not even the police are sober in that situation.
Anyway, a lot of these abandoned houses were filled with junk, and there was a definite pleasure in lining up old glass bottles along a rotten wooden porch railing and throwing rocks to smash them. The glass made a lovely sound when it shattered, and the broken shards were beautiful in the moonlight, like the opalescent shells of sea creatures.
There’s a scene in Night in the Woods when Gregg and Mae go out back behind the convenience store where Gregg works and smash a bunch of fluorescent lighting tubes while having a relatively chill and relaxing conversation. Same energy.
Fhiad and Agnes aren’t teenagers, of course, and neither of them is the sort of person who would work in a gas station or a convenience store. Still, I think this is an aspect of human nature that transcends time and place and social class. If the entire world’s already gone to shit, why not smash some glass? You know, as a treat.
