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imeeji_frontstage2022-08-07 12:02 pm
rosetograce) wrote in imeeji_frontstage2022-08-07 12:02 pm
Flowers of Heaven II: Star of Bethlehem
Who: lost(?) idols
Where: ???? a mysterious courtyard
When: day 490
[ You awaken to the feeling of cool stone at your back, and a night sky overhead.
All around is a courtyard—a wide circle of marble tile, alternating black and white, interspersed with stone benches and flowerbeds and ornamental trees, all lit by the lambent gleam of strangely vivid starlight.
It is beautiful. And it is decaying. The stone is cracked; the flowers wild and overflowing between the cracked stone; the trees bent and twisted with age, the ground around them littered with fallen fruit. There is a fountain in the center of this space, but it too is broken-down: the water sits stagnant, and nothing remains of the design except a basin and the shattered base of a once-golden sculpture.
—And surrounding it all are not walls, but dense mounds of kudzu, climbing over itself until it towers as high as any watchtower.
How did you get here?
The last thing you vaguely recall is a sudden fit of drowsiness. There’s no sign of any guide or host around, and your powers don’t currently work either. In fact, if you have any corruptions, whether mental or physical, they too are … gone? No, perhaps that's not quite it; you can still feel them—faint, like a phantom limb. Invisible, and unable to affect you.
But there is one notable exception to the rule: all wings, corruption-induced or not, remain in place, as natural as the starlight.
There are other idols around you, all waking up the same way. Is this meant to be some kind of game…? ]
Where: ???? a mysterious courtyard
When: day 490
[ You awaken to the feeling of cool stone at your back, and a night sky overhead.
All around is a courtyard—a wide circle of marble tile, alternating black and white, interspersed with stone benches and flowerbeds and ornamental trees, all lit by the lambent gleam of strangely vivid starlight.
It is beautiful. And it is decaying. The stone is cracked; the flowers wild and overflowing between the cracked stone; the trees bent and twisted with age, the ground around them littered with fallen fruit. There is a fountain in the center of this space, but it too is broken-down: the water sits stagnant, and nothing remains of the design except a basin and the shattered base of a once-golden sculpture.
—And surrounding it all are not walls, but dense mounds of kudzu, climbing over itself until it towers as high as any watchtower.
How did you get here?
The last thing you vaguely recall is a sudden fit of drowsiness. There’s no sign of any guide or host around, and your powers don’t currently work either. In fact, if you have any corruptions, whether mental or physical, they too are … gone? No, perhaps that's not quite it; you can still feel them—faint, like a phantom limb. Invisible, and unable to affect you.
But there is one notable exception to the rule: all wings, corruption-induced or not, remain in place, as natural as the starlight.
There are other idols around you, all waking up the same way. Is this meant to be some kind of game…? ]
Re: EXPLORE THE COURTYARD?
[Nothing but the path ahead, most remnants of the boy he used to be long gone]
[But maybe the boy he is now is stronger, because he keeps dragging himself forward anyway, toward the distant sound of water]
1/4
again he finds the pool, its surface black and clear as the void but gleaming with strange light. for a moment, only his own reflection meets his eyes.
...but only a moment.
and then Mehniel's face peers out instead, his eyes wide with something like desperation– ]
/5 jk
Thou didst return! Thou hast held fast!
Hurricane—do not waver!! Hurricane, I— the connection is fleeting; I have not long that thee might hear—!
Re: EXPLORE THE COURTYARD?
I—! [ and, just this once, Arariel's voice wavers. ]
I cannot bear to be alone any longer.
Re: EXPLORE THE COURTYARD?
but the throne of horn across the pool is... upside down? no—it is mirrored; it exists within the pool now. and this time it isn't Hurricane the choking tendrils come for, and this time they are not water but dark flame—which extends from the throne of horn, wrapping around the angel, pulling him under; pulling him away— ]
done.
....at last the water is still for a long moment.
then, another face resolves within it. someone who lays still upon dirty ground, a chalk outline drawn around them. ]
Re: done.
[He knows those words somewhere in the depths of his soul, after all -- "I cannot bear to be alone any longer." They're carved deep into his bones, as fundamental a part of him as drawing breath]
Re: done.
Wha --
Where's Mehniel?
no subject
.....their eyes...... meet his..... but briefly, and then.... unfocus once more.......
for a moment, he hears a voice, speaking directly to his mind, the words all too familiar:
Does any of it matter? Did any of this ever matter? I am pointless, purposeless, broken and faithless and empty. I am empty empty empty empty empty empty empty emp͟t̀y̶ e͜mpty ̴empt҉y̡ em̸p҉ty ̕empty͝ e̢m҉p͝t͘y̸ ͞e̢m͢pt̢y͜ ҉e͞mpty̧ e͕̼̲̩̣͢m̛͙̯p҉͇̲̬̖t̶͎͈̯̣y҉̮͍ e̻̞͍͈ͅm̛̲͎̹̰̫ͅp͓̖̦̖̙̤̗t̡̙͇̗͍y̨̻͈͙͈͈͍̤ ͉͓̰͔͎̕e̦̮̟̲͜m̟̞͠p̱͎͚̗̤t͕̲̫̙̀y͕̮̰͉͡ ̨̞̭e̙͎̪̠͕̩͇̞ͯ͊̌̓ͥ̍͆͆̌m̵̽͂̅͏̖͚͖̬̟̜p͐̈́ͬ҉͏̗̱̪̩̹t́ͯͦ̂̓͛͏̧̥̬̬̖͞ý̵̛͉̦̹̭̙̾ ̼͇͍̟̣̜̻̤́ͩ̔ͦ̾e̷̳͖̓ͩ͋̚͟m͊ͩͤ͛̾͢͞҉̜p̍̍͏̰̗̞̙̮͘t̨̲̮͖̩̪̣̬͈ͧ̽̂͛̀y̧̩̗̥̯̞͎ͬ̈́ ̶̧͎͓̯̂̒͐̓̒ͧͪe̡̧̯̺̣̲͉̯̞̳͊ͪ̄ͮm̻̘̺̤̞̰̳̮ͩ̄͊͒͛͐͋p͉̰̯̳̬̭̦̗̓ͦ̀ͦ̓ͩͭ̊t͇ͥ͂̀͛y̡̹̭͎̋̉ͬ̉ͤ̾ ̷̲̠͍ͪͣ͒͗ͦ̽͒̚ e͈̥͇̹͉͕͔̊ͮ͌̿ͮͮͧ̃̚͘̕ͅm̰̠͔͎̖͔ͯ̏ͨ̿̔̉ͤ̎pͨ͛͋͛ͨͫ̆ͨ͏͚̯͉̞̙ţ̨̨͇̝͉̩̼̪̞̺ͩ̉͂̌y̨͔͎͙̳̐̋ͭ͊͊ͧ̕ e̸̷̞͙̗̙̰̠̦̗̠̜̖̥̖̰͔̥̾̀ͥ͒ͦ̐̇ͯ́͘ͅm̴̨̡̦̗̞̠̣̤̻̘̰̉ͥ̿ͭ̒̈͌̉̈̈ͣ̑̀̚͘ͅp̸̶̪̳͉̪͓͓̗̠̺͍̣̖̘̬̭̖̅ͫ͌͐̿͌͊ͨ̎ͬ̀ͯ͂̉ͪt̴̴̨̺̥̙͖̻̤ͦ̌̔̇͛̀͊̑̽̔ͪ̇͑͋̓͟y̷ͦͥͦͪ̎ͣ͊ͤͨ̽ͥ͏͔͖̺̻͙̭̲̣̖̻̫̝ ... ]
no subject
It's -- of course it matters. You matter, too.
Just cause you're empty now, don't mean you always gotta be.
1/2
....is someone.......speaking .........to them?
...they..... meet his eyes..... once more......... and some realization..... seems to dawn...... ]
no subject
It is a strange and ancient warcry. And it is anguish.
The sound reverberates through him—and all around Hurricane, flowers bloom. They cover the ground, the walls; they blot out the surface of the pool. ]
no subject
[He reaches down toward the pool, instead, to push the flowers aside]
[Maybe this isn't the person he'd meant to help, but it's someone in pain. And however much Hurricane has changed -- whatever has happened, in the long, long interim -- he still can't ignore that. That much, at least, is still the same]