𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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abraxasnet2021-10-24 12:03 am
bloomly) wrote in abraxasnet2021-10-24 12:03 am
TO: EVERYONE.
( it's not like she means to, and certainly not like she wants to broadcast her thoughts, in the neat, curling cursive that it comes in, to people that she doesn't even know, in a place where she's fairly certain she's all alone. sure, there had been the sudden intrusion before, of words splashed on her bedsheets and the wooden walls where she sleeps--but she had figured that must have been some sort of hallucination, perhaps even magic, or worse, some sort of curse; she doesn't know anything about this place except what those here, in solvunn, have told her, and what's a halloween anyway? some sort of other curse?
or is this something different? it wouldn't be the first time the planet said things to her that she didn't understand, a cacophony of voices scrambled together: some happy, others upset, some desperate to be lost to the lifestream entirely. but this isn't gaia, and this isn't her flower garden--the cries of the planet don't reach her here, or do they? is that the meaning of all those words before?
it's late at night when her eyes close: maybe if she thinks hard enough, long enough, she can find that pull, the tug of the lifestream to draw her thoughts together with the planet beneath her. maybe she can find a way out of here. maybe there are a lot of 'maybe's. )
𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝑒?
( the text, all loopy and warm and rounded, pops up with no discretion for who it's sent to, or why: it's just there, to everyone open to it, and repeats patiently if ignored. then, another: )
𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝐼 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅?
( and, of course, there's a neat little signature at the bottom of every message: )
- 𝒜𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒽
or is this something different? it wouldn't be the first time the planet said things to her that she didn't understand, a cacophony of voices scrambled together: some happy, others upset, some desperate to be lost to the lifestream entirely. but this isn't gaia, and this isn't her flower garden--the cries of the planet don't reach her here, or do they? is that the meaning of all those words before?
it's late at night when her eyes close: maybe if she thinks hard enough, long enough, she can find that pull, the tug of the lifestream to draw her thoughts together with the planet beneath her. maybe she can find a way out of here. maybe there are a lot of 'maybe's. )
( the text, all loopy and warm and rounded, pops up with no discretion for who it's sent to, or why: it's just there, to everyone open to it, and repeats patiently if ignored. then, another: )
( and, of course, there's a neat little signature at the bottom of every message: )
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𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝒜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔?
- 𝒜𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒽
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But if you should have doubts I am sure there are ways we could arrange to dispel them.
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𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜?
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( very funny, aerith. )
𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃? 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒'𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒾𝓃 𝒮𝑜𝓁𝓋𝓊𝓃𝓃, 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹.
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However, as it should happen, I am also presently in Solvunn. Thus it should be simple enough to find a suitable place to meet.
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But if you insist... ah, yes, that should do. I have seen none other here who possess a visible third eye.
[That they eye in question doesn't look like a normal eye is a fact he chooses not to mention.]
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𝒪~𝓀𝒶𝓎. 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌. 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊!
no subject