Writing

snowbell's picture

Of stranger realms

Her eyes swam with confusion, lost in a golden haze of strange symbols and unfamiliar sights, while her nose stung from even stranger smells, her sense of being had been displaced and her mind raced to cling to memories from where she had just been expelled.


My soul. Her consciousness reached for her chest, and her body moved to accommodate once familiar movements, but her now furred knee graced only soft fur where once had been, had ALWAYS been her soul stone.


While her body suddenly ached with a grieving sense of loss, it was also swept away upon her eyes nestling on a golden symbol floating above her, replaced only with confusion at her innate understanding that what she gazed upon was her, her in her entirety, much like her coloured gem that had nestled upon her chest. It was the ever present reflection of herself, her indication, her name, her being.


My soul? But why, why had it shifted? Was she dead? Her head swam as she tried to remember, tried to understand what was happening. No. She could not die, her body would simply be reclaimed by the mother, the moon, to dot the skies as stars in her loving embrace, until she was yet again ready to grace the gifted plane of Astraea with her kin, as a fallen star under the watch of her father the sun.

Astraea. Oh by the three, their mothers rage had warped the realm, punishing her kin -her fathers favoured- for their arrogance.

Fire, she remembered fire, warmth as the juveniles and even elders of the fathers favoured wrecked havoc upon the three's elements.

Nerea; their once clear and pure waters polluted with ash and debris.
Ciel; their guiding winds clouded with smoke and haze.
And Aurelia; the most suffering of all for the fathers favoured antics, their earth burnt, sullied, defiled with flames, cinders and embers.

AI Cyber Deer

Have you heard or have you experienced the AI Cyber Deer? It creeps around the edges of forests. It unlocks the entrance and by passes the greetings . It leaves doodles everywhere it walks. Crashes in the forest. Deer suddenly freezing. Flashing that prevent our dashing. It loves the visual expressions of our deer play by stealing them blending with a thousand others. Worse it undoes the ecosystem of the forest hidden. It is a chaos deer created for maelstorming. Who can mentor that so each can have a bit of chaos when they choose? It will not leave but only sleeps then reignites when someone does something new... It gathers it.

Unravel then Rebuild

Life has a way of unraveling despite protests and plans. The forest no different in that life cycle. Usuallytransitions with anger and reborn in anger. All indicators to rebuild. Relationships mattered in the forest ecosystem. How we played and interacted. How we greeted one another. How we let some fawn hide and watch while others received a mentor. If one deer wished to have pride so be it. If one wanted to fly, fall down, roll on their back in a fit of giggles we celebrated that with a dance. If a deer needed pride we made sure they had an opportunity to be prideful. If they needed to be brave a group formed to charge the twin gods. If a group draws bloody pictures it was allowed and if they wished another deer dead or the side dead we allowed that for a time. Reads like a painful rebirth. It will be a similar ecosystem but not the same. Deer will be coming in from the other place in pain and loss.

Unravel then Rebuild

Life has a way of unraveling despite protests and plans. The forest no different in that life cycle. Usuallytransitions with anger and reborn in anger. All indicators to rebuild. Relationships mattered in the forest ecosystem. How we played and interacted. How we greeted one another. How we let some fawn hide and watch while others received a mentor. If one deer wished to have pride so be it. If one wanted to fly, fall down, roll on their back in a fit of giggles we celebrated that with a dance. If a deer needed pride we made sure they had an opportunity to be prideful. If they needed to be brave a group formed to charge the twin gods. If a group draws bloody pictures it was allowed and if they wished another deer dead or the side dead we allowed that for a time. Reads like a painful rebirth. It will be a similar ecosystem but not the same. Deer will be coming in from the other place in pain and loss.

All grown up!

From little fawn to antlers grown!
Would anyone in the forest be kind enough to grant me some magic? I'm a returning player from fond childhood memories and have enjoyed my fawnhood, casting spells on other newcomers! I'd love to spruce up my appearance!

Eternally grateful,
Mothy
Lucian's picture

Excerpt from my story c:

here is some writing for one of my eldritch ocs!! shes kind of like a dragon. ))

Before mana existed and before the earths bled blue, before the stars rained gas and the galaxy bled black.
Her jaws cracked open the black humming stones. Each brick vibrated with the non-matter of life to taste the disciples love.
Her tail was the river they poured planets, and upon the river lay the quills she adorned, standing like pillars. Quills made of the knives of one million dead children of the cosmos. Her wings plunged through the world, around the world and betwixt the sky and stars. webbed and furred, torn but not shredded, her wings were only there when the light was wrong. A shield to protect her children and vanquish the men who did not belong. Her scales like a blood-stained moon, glittering and hollow, and red all over. She oozed blackness from where she stood, a mountainous beast for all to see, bearing the sword were her breast lay, a scabbed inorganic gold that seemed more like solid matter than anything else in this world. The gold, a sheathe for The Old Father’s sword that once flaked Her scales into an infestation where Her forearms lay. A sickness that dragon-spoken creature embraced as she had once cremated their skies red with the sword marked for anguish and brought down the end of the Old Father’s reign. I felt my hairs stand on end. I felt a whisper before my fellow soldier met his eyes upon the sword. The screaming, chattering and whispering was like one hundred shrieking banshees in my head and to feel the sword through the reflection in his eyes made me numb and drop to my knees. His poor face contorted into unseen levels of terror beneath his helmet. I could feel his life, stolen away in an instant of pure fear and frenzied terror. Not a moment to fight back. My soldier’s body lay limp. I couldn’t help but share a glance at the Red Sword and for that I too, would be dead, and rotten with madness.

Dotd mask \(n.n)/

Hello Laughing out loud

Would some good soul be willing to cast the DotD mask on my deer?

I'm in the poppy meadow near the old ruins (^u^) White pelt, plume and owl mask (that’s me)

Amazon Rainforest Nearing Savannah “Tipping Point”

Barf!


The Amazon rainforest’s trees may soon die off en masse, researchers warn. According to a 20-year satellite study published yesterday (March 7) in Nature Climate Change, the famous forest is exhibiting signs of poor health that could mean large portions of it will become savannah in the near future. Such an ecological shift could happen quickly, Timothy M. Lenton, a coauthor on the study and a director of the Global Systems Institute at the University of Exeter, tells CNN. “My hunch, for what it’s worth, (is that) it could happen in the space of decades.”


“The Amazon is a custodian of biodiversity and possesses a vital ability to pull in carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, so it is clearly concerning that its health is deteriorating as human-caused deforestation and climate change metes out increasingly potent and harmful impacts on the ecosystem,” University of Reading climate scientist Richard Allan, who was not involved in the study, says in a statement to the Science Media Centre (SMC).

Baal's picture

[fragile things]


Alchemical Construct - body is a brewing pot for potions.
Picto
Can 'consume' ingredients and brew potions for any willing to bring these things to them.

Blood and Remembrance

What is worse in the forest? Imagining the blood in the scenes on the tree bark and grass or the idea of it all. You turn, and there lies lovely deer peacefully playing on mostly green and blue areas. Yet, through your mind's eyes as you prance and walk the terrors and horrors surround you. Is unfair to only observe that without emotion so as to incorporate it in the forest symbolically? I always pondered why the sand soil contained red near the playground. Is somebody's blood spilled unfairly on the ground and the rocks are a place to hide when it is all too much to process. More horrible if not spoken, not drawn is it not? In a deer community another's pain too horrible for that deer to speak can be drawn, acted out or spoken by another. Or like fawns do turned into play. Yet though a deer is gone others remember and mention when they come back or go the graveyard and refresh the memory. Art and deer live on in the forest.
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