𝘢𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bloomly) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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: )
no subject
no subject
𝒪𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓌𝒾𝓈𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒.
no subject
no subject
𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝓉, 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒?
𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃'𝓉...𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑜𝓇, 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝒻𝒻-𝒾𝓈𝒽, 𝓎𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇?
no subject
I do know a guy who kiiiinda fits that description. No armor though.