just as one world dies, another is reborn
For days the berries keep beating and throbbing like hearts. The breeze blew through the ivy wall constantly, but soon it started to feel almost hot, like breath from a carnivore’s lungs instead of wind. And still the berries keep beating like hearts.
Lub-DUB, lub-DUB, lub-DUB
They grew louder.
And louder.
And louder.
The horses on the bridge could barely hear their own thoughts above that beating heart. They started to think that they would dream of it, or that their own hearts weren’t even beating their own song anymore, but rather the song of those berries. Some turned away, towards their homes. They vowed that they would stop crossing bridges and dreaming of wonder and strangeness.
The berries kept throbbing, humming, singing.
Lub-DUB, lub-DUB, lub-DUB
Until, with a tremble and a sigh of that hot, smoke-tainted breeze, the heartbeat stopped. The silence felt like a tangible thing, weighted and waiting. For a day it was only silence, only the soft hum of horses too startled to speak loudly. Some horses returned to the bridge, others left because the silence seemed almost oppressive. The night came as normally as it always does, with streaks of dark blue layers one upon another.
The silence remained. Even the constellations seemed still in the quiet, their flickering giving way to steady, constant light.
And when the day came at last, the ivy began to die. It started with the browning of a single leaf - first it loses its luster, its sheen fading as it returns the light it had once stolen from the sun and moon. But soon the sickness spreads like wildfire, as surrounding leaves succumb to their neighbor’s plight. They wither and die and the bystanders can only watch in awe as the incomprehensible wall of ivy begins to fold in upon itself. It is as if time has sped up, but only here, only affecting the wall that separates known from unknown.
The berries split open and it wasn’t red juice that leaked out but pearls. When the first one fell, it made a only a small, discreet splash, sinking quickly beneath the waves, lost forever. Petals tear themselves free from the wall, but not a single horse could remember seeing flowers blooming on that wall of ivy. And soon the air is filled with leaves and petals that rain down upon the earth, berries rupturing to spill their pearls, littering the stone bridge with treasure.
Noontime came and went and the ivy was still dying. Evening came and the ivy was nothing more than an suggestion of something dreamlike, dead and brown and colors that have no name. But as the horses closest to the now revealed end of the bridge lifted their heads, each of them forgot all about any wall of ivy, about the flowers that bloomed from nothing and the pearls that burst forth from berries.
A utopia waits at the end of the bridge. The sand is as white and smooth as any cleanly picked bone, and the waves are rolling over it in frothy curls of seafoam. Birds are flitting through massive palm trees, but they do not look like any birds of Novus. Some are as brightly feathered as the sun and when they fly, fire and smoke trails in their wake. A sand-piper is waiting, peering strangely at the horses on the bridge. But something about him is not quite right, for his eyes are bits of sodalite swiveling in his head. Another bird joins him and this one has tines of bone curling up from his head like a halo, and from the tines heliotrope blooms. They sing and harpsichord music pours out from their throats.
Further into the island the trees are fat with fruit. There is a pool of clear-water that tastes almost sweet on the tongue instead of cool. Flowers bloom dark black in the sunlight and the sun shines on the metallic center of them. For some the flowers might look like constellations, for others they might seem nothing more than an omen of destruction.
But the island does not care what the horses think. It cares only for the birds that are not from this mortal realm, and the strange wildcats that are calling from the canopy of tropical trees. The sun sets on the island, and yet at the center that sweet water is still shining like it’s swallowed the sun.
Even in the night the island begged to be explored.
Lub-DUB, lub-DUB, lub-DUB
They grew louder.
And louder.
And louder.
The horses on the bridge could barely hear their own thoughts above that beating heart. They started to think that they would dream of it, or that their own hearts weren’t even beating their own song anymore, but rather the song of those berries. Some turned away, towards their homes. They vowed that they would stop crossing bridges and dreaming of wonder and strangeness.
The berries kept throbbing, humming, singing.
Lub-DUB, lub-DUB, lub-DUB
Until, with a tremble and a sigh of that hot, smoke-tainted breeze, the heartbeat stopped. The silence felt like a tangible thing, weighted and waiting. For a day it was only silence, only the soft hum of horses too startled to speak loudly. Some horses returned to the bridge, others left because the silence seemed almost oppressive. The night came as normally as it always does, with streaks of dark blue layers one upon another.
The silence remained. Even the constellations seemed still in the quiet, their flickering giving way to steady, constant light.
And when the day came at last, the ivy began to die. It started with the browning of a single leaf - first it loses its luster, its sheen fading as it returns the light it had once stolen from the sun and moon. But soon the sickness spreads like wildfire, as surrounding leaves succumb to their neighbor’s plight. They wither and die and the bystanders can only watch in awe as the incomprehensible wall of ivy begins to fold in upon itself. It is as if time has sped up, but only here, only affecting the wall that separates known from unknown.
The berries split open and it wasn’t red juice that leaked out but pearls. When the first one fell, it made a only a small, discreet splash, sinking quickly beneath the waves, lost forever. Petals tear themselves free from the wall, but not a single horse could remember seeing flowers blooming on that wall of ivy. And soon the air is filled with leaves and petals that rain down upon the earth, berries rupturing to spill their pearls, littering the stone bridge with treasure.
Noontime came and went and the ivy was still dying. Evening came and the ivy was nothing more than an suggestion of something dreamlike, dead and brown and colors that have no name. But as the horses closest to the now revealed end of the bridge lifted their heads, each of them forgot all about any wall of ivy, about the flowers that bloomed from nothing and the pearls that burst forth from berries.
A utopia waits at the end of the bridge. The sand is as white and smooth as any cleanly picked bone, and the waves are rolling over it in frothy curls of seafoam. Birds are flitting through massive palm trees, but they do not look like any birds of Novus. Some are as brightly feathered as the sun and when they fly, fire and smoke trails in their wake. A sand-piper is waiting, peering strangely at the horses on the bridge. But something about him is not quite right, for his eyes are bits of sodalite swiveling in his head. Another bird joins him and this one has tines of bone curling up from his head like a halo, and from the tines heliotrope blooms. They sing and harpsichord music pours out from their throats.
Further into the island the trees are fat with fruit. There is a pool of clear-water that tastes almost sweet on the tongue instead of cool. Flowers bloom dark black in the sunlight and the sun shines on the metallic center of them. For some the flowers might look like constellations, for others they might seem nothing more than an omen of destruction.
But the island does not care what the horses think. It cares only for the birds that are not from this mortal realm, and the strange wildcats that are calling from the canopy of tropical trees. The sun sets on the island, and yet at the center that sweet water is still shining like it’s swallowed the sun.
Even in the night the island begged to be explored.
How to Participate!
Who was the first to cross the island? No one seems to know, for many had given up waiting and gone home by the time the ivy began to wilt. But when you brave the bridge once more, crossing over scattered pearls and dried up leaves, the way before you clear at last, it doesn't matter. Nothing could have prepared you for the land you cross into.
It's as if the island is separate from Novus, not only by distance but also in some ethereal, otherworldly manner. Even things that ought to be familiar are not; the white beach is glistening like a jewel, the waves carry an exaggerated vibrancy, on and on. The animals are foreign to you, the plants seem just as likely to bear fruit as poison, and you can nearly cut the magic in the air with a knife. And yet something draws you in deeper, some invisible force that seems to tug you to the heart of the island, stirring your blood until it roars in your ears -
- and then abruptly falls silent. The world is your's to explore.
The island is officially open for your characters to explore! You can post as many threads as you'd like in the new board, Bridge to Nowhere. Threads taking place on the island also have an increased chance of encountering a Random Event. If you have any questions message @sid or @nestle for info!
One more note... In a few days a mini IC event will be posted! We'll be bringing back a familiar item that disappeared from the game a while back, which will give your character an opportunity to go on a daring, possibly dangerous adventure. Keep your eyes peeled!
Each character may reply to this post only one time. Rolls will be done and a staff edit will be posted at the end of each reply with Random Event results. You are more than welcome, and encouraged, to branch off into individual threads to interact with other characters. You may respond to the characters before you or your reply could be set at a different moment in time (this is totally up to you). This event will last for several days IC time.
If you reply to this thread, it gives you +1 post in an SWP.
All replies after June 14th, 2019 will not be considered for a RE roll.
Possible rolls and their rewards are as follows.
1 : 40 signos
2: 80 signos
3: 100 signos
4: 140 signos
5: 180 signos
6: 120 signos
Who was the first to cross the island? No one seems to know, for many had given up waiting and gone home by the time the ivy began to wilt. But when you brave the bridge once more, crossing over scattered pearls and dried up leaves, the way before you clear at last, it doesn't matter. Nothing could have prepared you for the land you cross into.
It's as if the island is separate from Novus, not only by distance but also in some ethereal, otherworldly manner. Even things that ought to be familiar are not; the white beach is glistening like a jewel, the waves carry an exaggerated vibrancy, on and on. The animals are foreign to you, the plants seem just as likely to bear fruit as poison, and you can nearly cut the magic in the air with a knife. And yet something draws you in deeper, some invisible force that seems to tug you to the heart of the island, stirring your blood until it roars in your ears -
- and then abruptly falls silent. The world is your's to explore.
The island is officially open for your characters to explore! You can post as many threads as you'd like in the new board, Bridge to Nowhere. Threads taking place on the island also have an increased chance of encountering a Random Event. If you have any questions message @sid or @nestle for info!
One more note... In a few days a mini IC event will be posted! We'll be bringing back a familiar item that disappeared from the game a while back, which will give your character an opportunity to go on a daring, possibly dangerous adventure. Keep your eyes peeled!
Each character may reply to this post only one time. Rolls will be done and a staff edit will be posted at the end of each reply with Random Event results. You are more than welcome, and encouraged, to branch off into individual threads to interact with other characters. You may respond to the characters before you or your reply could be set at a different moment in time (this is totally up to you). This event will last for several days IC time.
If you reply to this thread, it gives you +1 post in an SWP.
All replies after June 14th, 2019 will not be considered for a RE roll.
Possible rolls and their rewards are as follows.
1 : 40 signos
2: 80 signos
3: 100 signos
4: 140 signos
5: 180 signos
6: 120 signos
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
