Imonada is greeted by an emerald dream when she enters the Labyrinth, the scenery draped in lush velvet as a light misty rain envelopes the forest. Behind steely clouds hides direct suhlight, but it is bright and effervescent here, as if glowing from within. A myriad of bird species sing, hidden among the bamboo and soft carpet of grass beneath, from melodious thrushes to chatty parakeets. It is beautiful here, but deceptively so, still radiating the strange magics that brought upon a violent crashing of two worlds. It was most crazy, for she felt as if she knew this place, despite never having been here. She vaguely remembered being urged to come when she was ill, her self-control eroded by the cancer's deluge, driven to madness and hallucinations; but she had fought the primal call. And yet... that kind of plague changes someone, even if only a little.

A fae, alien presence is here with her, living in the wet roots sunk far into the black ground. Or in the sterling blanket shredded across the pale dome of sky, the sun obscured but still forever floating down the river of time. Imonada senses it, the otherwordliness, the distinct trace of lifeforms not native to this dimension; but she falls prey to it, succumbing to the pressures of magic supernatural and unidentifiable. In the moment she yields she is scattered, becoming nothing more than a puppet, her marionette strings being strung along toward the edge of a nearby pond. It is a beguiling body, unnaturally calm but belying insidious truths; the pool is lipped in a celestial blue before being swallowed by a thick ring of imperial navy with a swirling, circular mass of oily midnight taking final and center stage. She moves close, way too close, peering at her fuzzy reflection. She looks sick inside the image, eyes hollowed, the fine hairs of her face having turned ghost white. 

As she is about to pull back, the waters rise up in tentacles that slither over the shore and wrap around her ankles with an abnormally strong grip. With one tug, the black pegasus is yanked into the depths in frothing violence, waves thrashing against the bejeweled trees. That is -- until the struggle calms and only large bubbles drift up to pop upon reaching the surface.

Fortunately, she took a deep breath, realizing she could not fight it right there and then. But of course, she only has so long. 


"Talk."