[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/J7djVHk.png[/img]
[sub][i]“Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.”[/i] -- G. K. Chesterton[/sub][/center]

[b]THE FALL[/b] could have been anything: a tumble down the cliffside, a leap into the lake, a jump off the ledge, a trip over broken sidewalk. Once the fall had begun, it did not stop. Darkness pressed close and air rushed past, tumbling, no notion of which way was up, no sight of the bottom. Consciousness, eventually, was lost.

A pile of soggy pillows broke the fall. They were of a rainbow of colors, each lovingly embroidered with patterns of thread, all frayed and dulled by age and water.

The room was smaller than a child's bedroom and made all of copper. The tarnished walls were etched with patterns like a motherboard. A warm light illuminated the room, but its source was unclear. The ceiling was dark and made of deep, rippling water.

There did not appear to be a door. There was, however, a cat.

The cat was black. Its green eyes stared wide. It grinned.

[b]"Hi!"[/b] said the cat in a meowling and excitable voice. [b]"Are you okay? That was a big fall! Welcome to Compass District One, visitor! I'm Howl. What's your name?"[/b]

[hr][sub]The IC is now open for play. Each character will arrive alone in their own separate room and in identical circumstances.[/sub]