Oct. 6th, 2011

starrydome: (Default)
It is dark.

The air is cool and dry and smells a little of oil and a little of lavender. Before she's had a chance to get used to the darkness, he murmurs something and the darkness lifts, just a little, light reflecting from walls lined with shelves, all of the filled with stacks of metal. Helmets, breastplates. All of them well-cared for. All of them used.

"We can go through over here," he says, indicating the far end of the room with his free hand.

April 2021

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