i'm sent from above; i'm not that innocent [public]
The horizon rips apart.
Reality trembles, the sheer force of the Rift being pulled apart resonated through-out the entire town. The sky turns to nothingness or somethingness; recognizing the complexity of what's out there isn't easy. Things that were, weren't. Things that should be, aren't. Time, space, dimensions fall apart and try to put themselves together.
The universe tries to heal itself. It's wounded and stressed. It's not possible, not yet, for the universe to do it on its own, though. It puts things in a state of flux: sometimes things are, and sometimes they aren't.
What seems to be a small girl stands on a hill in Grant Park, covered in the blood of those who had trusted her, those who had poured their soul into her work. There isn't space, or the ability for her laughter to manifest. "Daddy," she mouths into the vacuum. "Can I keep it?"
It won't be long before they're here. It won't be long until she can go home, before she can escape this need to be contained in this body, or this need to hide her intentions. Home, sweet home.
[ Party thread time! The Bestowed plot is on. If you have any questions about what's going on, drop either L or Riley a line, or reference the post in eatmybrainrp.
If you want to help with the resolution, ping L or Riley as well -- there are some deus ex machina answers to this plot, but we'd prefer it happen in game, instead.
Also, this is back-dated to last week, so it will have no effect on this week's camping trip! So don't worry about that.]
Reality trembles, the sheer force of the Rift being pulled apart resonated through-out the entire town. The sky turns to nothingness or somethingness; recognizing the complexity of what's out there isn't easy. Things that were, weren't. Things that should be, aren't. Time, space, dimensions fall apart and try to put themselves together.
The universe tries to heal itself. It's wounded and stressed. It's not possible, not yet, for the universe to do it on its own, though. It puts things in a state of flux: sometimes things are, and sometimes they aren't.
What seems to be a small girl stands on a hill in Grant Park, covered in the blood of those who had trusted her, those who had poured their soul into her work. There isn't space, or the ability for her laughter to manifest. "Daddy," she mouths into the vacuum. "Can I keep it?"
It won't be long before they're here. It won't be long until she can go home, before she can escape this need to be contained in this body, or this need to hide her intentions. Home, sweet home.
[ Party thread time! The Bestowed plot is on. If you have any questions about what's going on, drop either L or Riley a line, or reference the post in eatmybrainrp.
If you want to help with the resolution, ping L or Riley as well -- there are some deus ex machina answers to this plot, but we'd prefer it happen in game, instead.
Also, this is back-dated to last week, so it will have no effect on this week's camping trip! So don't worry about that.]