15 » [video; broadcast mind]
For the first few seconds, it’s only darkness. Then the screen brightens, two pairs of small hands, each holding too-bit shovels. The sound of digging is scratchy, rhythmic. Those touching their Forge will find a wave of calm washing over them. There’s the muffled, garbled voices of two children-- a boy and a girl? Or two girls. Or two boys. It’s hard to tell when they’re so young.
The screen shifts up, showing a young Chinese girl in pigtails, cheek smudged with dirt. Her brow is pinched in concentration and she’s saying something, but it’s all garbled. The only clear sound is that of a shovel going through dirt. There’s a soundless reply, she laughs silently, and the gaze drops back down to show a pair of hands, older, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A pot is held between them, containing several stalks of daffodils.
The flowers are tapped out, a lotus is swatted out of the hole, and the daffodils are placed in. Patted down firmly. A petal floats down and lands on the back of a hand, light and weightless, no sensation. Steady breathing, relaxed despite exerting effort. A bird chirps in the distance, and a sigh is heaved, heavy, and with a slight slump of unseen shoulders. A hand rises, fingers graze over a yellow petal. Gentle and thoughtless, trembling slightly. There’s a beaded bracelet on the wrist.
This is life.
It’s just a passing thought, but also spoken lowly, almost in a whisper. Curious. Wondering.
A stand of dark hair falls into view, and the hand moves to brush it away. Vision moves up again. The daffodils are gone. The lotuses are gone. All that’s left is a field of wheat.
Screen moves higher, until there’s only the sky and stalks of barley. At the corners, smoke billows up from an unknown source. A hand flickers in and out, static and unmoving. Once, twice. Three times. And then it’s suddenly kicked aside by some invisible force.
And this..
Another thought, whisper, whisper. Just as curious, just as wondering. Louder than the sound underlying it. A face flashes several times with an unintelligible, broken screech.
This is the end.
((ooc: replies will be ICly delayed a few minutes!))
The screen shifts up, showing a young Chinese girl in pigtails, cheek smudged with dirt. Her brow is pinched in concentration and she’s saying something, but it’s all garbled. The only clear sound is that of a shovel going through dirt. There’s a soundless reply, she laughs silently, and the gaze drops back down to show a pair of hands, older, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A pot is held between them, containing several stalks of daffodils.
The flowers are tapped out, a lotus is swatted out of the hole, and the daffodils are placed in. Patted down firmly. A petal floats down and lands on the back of a hand, light and weightless, no sensation. Steady breathing, relaxed despite exerting effort. A bird chirps in the distance, and a sigh is heaved, heavy, and with a slight slump of unseen shoulders. A hand rises, fingers graze over a yellow petal. Gentle and thoughtless, trembling slightly. There’s a beaded bracelet on the wrist.
This is life.
It’s just a passing thought, but also spoken lowly, almost in a whisper. Curious. Wondering.
A stand of dark hair falls into view, and the hand moves to brush it away. Vision moves up again. The daffodils are gone. The lotuses are gone. All that’s left is a field of wheat.
Screen moves higher, until there’s only the sky and stalks of barley. At the corners, smoke billows up from an unknown source. A hand flickers in and out, static and unmoving. Once, twice. Three times. And then it’s suddenly kicked aside by some invisible force.
And this..
Another thought, whisper, whisper. Just as curious, just as wondering. Louder than the sound underlying it. A face flashes several times with an unintelligible, broken screech.
This is the end.
((ooc: replies will be ICly delayed a few minutes!))