She is trapped in a portrait of herself. It is not a portrait of her, it is a portrait of her. My magics have told me that much. They have also told me that the magic is familiar in a way that I currently cannot place.
[ There is a pause in between this response and any more coming as Strange takes Sheehan's advice. A small vial, with a darkish brown liquid and a little dead mouse soaking inside of it. The smell of smoke from the candles he thought were in people's heads. The acrid taste of something unspeakable yet somehow pineapple flavored. The sound of a thousand trumpets in his ears and a thousand cats mewling at his feet. The knowledge that there was so much more in the world and it was all staring directly at him. All the things that the tincture of madness inspired in him were here, in this room, and he could use them to defeat the enchanter that trapped Sabriel.
When Strange opens his eyes, there is a small little vial sitting in the middle of his bed. He picks up the journal and writes, ]
(no subject)
Date: 2020-07-16 04:59 pm (UTC)[ There is a pause in between this response and any more coming as Strange takes Sheehan's advice. A small vial, with a darkish brown liquid and a little dead mouse soaking inside of it. The smell of smoke from the candles he thought were in people's heads. The acrid taste of something unspeakable yet somehow pineapple flavored. The sound of a thousand trumpets in his ears and a thousand cats mewling at his feet. The knowledge that there was so much more in the world and it was all staring directly at him. All the things that the tincture of madness inspired in him were here, in this room, and he could use them to defeat the enchanter that trapped Sabriel.
When Strange opens his eyes, there is a small little vial sitting in the middle of his bed. He picks up the journal and writes, ]
Thank you, Sheehan. It seems to have worked.