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07-24-2015, 06:35 PM
The world has become dust and starlight.
Beneath Nymeria's hooves, familiar grass has turned to palest, finest sand. As far as the eye can see, silver 'ash' stretches in a dunelike landscape, rolling hills and whispering mountains eroded by the wind. Tangible shafts of moonlight strike the barren panorama haphazardly, thick, crystallized white pillars as physical as the soil. On the horizon line, the sky is a pale blue, darkening to a rich and verdant indigo overhead. There are neither stars, moon, nor sun, and yet everything gleams with an effervescent, inward lighting, a sort of phosphorescence as produced by deepwater fish—just... everywhere. It is also devoid of life—the world is Martian, empty and desolate, save for thearachnid wandering throughout.
Nymeria's nostrils cusp wide, inhaling the clear air. Like this... place... itself, the air is strangely sterile and untainted, with an almost metallic edge. Occasionally, a reek of smoke lingers—but Nym thinks that to be more caused by Lilómiel than any beast lurking in this contradictory landscape.
The air whumps as her black circles, his silhouette imposing against the backdrop of purple and navy. No longer is he small and fragile, situated at the bottom of the color hierarchy; he is massive, a colossal behemoth who takes up most of the sky. Each thud of his wings produces a great wind to go swirling outwards, ripping across the sand and shrieking against the moonlight pillars. His mouth and nostrils glows ceaselessly, rimmed in charcoal and flame, a constant preparation to burn; and yet she feels no inclination from his mind for him to do so. They are, here at least, strangely at peace, at ease with this peculiar world...
Beneath Nymeria's hooves, familiar grass has turned to palest, finest sand. As far as the eye can see, silver 'ash' stretches in a dunelike landscape, rolling hills and whispering mountains eroded by the wind. Tangible shafts of moonlight strike the barren panorama haphazardly, thick, crystallized white pillars as physical as the soil. On the horizon line, the sky is a pale blue, darkening to a rich and verdant indigo overhead. There are neither stars, moon, nor sun, and yet everything gleams with an effervescent, inward lighting, a sort of phosphorescence as produced by deepwater fish—just... everywhere. It is also devoid of life—the world is Martian, empty and desolate, save for the
Nymeria's nostrils cusp wide, inhaling the clear air. Like this... place... itself, the air is strangely sterile and untainted, with an almost metallic edge. Occasionally, a reek of smoke lingers—but Nym thinks that to be more caused by Lilómiel than any beast lurking in this contradictory landscape.
The air whumps as her black circles, his silhouette imposing against the backdrop of purple and navy. No longer is he small and fragile, situated at the bottom of the color hierarchy; he is massive, a colossal behemoth who takes up most of the sky. Each thud of his wings produces a great wind to go swirling outwards, ripping across the sand and shrieking against the moonlight pillars. His mouth and nostrils glows ceaselessly, rimmed in charcoal and flame, a constant preparation to burn; and yet she feels no inclination from his mind for him to do so. They are, here at least, strangely at peace, at ease with this peculiar world...
I get high, and I love to get low
So the hearts keep breaking, and the heads just roll
image credits
@[Ranjiri]
OOC: Dream thread ♥
Yes I lied, don't think about you all the time
All my switchblade words ain't aim to cut your sweet delusions
