Goddess
((Open to anyone, but I want to let a few people know for sure, @[member="Amari Vessia"], @[member="Dharma Vessia"], @[member="Fabula Cavataio"], @[member="Minerva Vessia"] ))
Another grand day in paradise; however, it was all to fake. The mind playing old tracks of what was and not there. It was a way to deal with the lack of familiarity. If anything, the cold colorless stone walls, blacken gravel floor that her toes easily played in like sand at a beach, and the starless ceiling that was a void hinted to nothing, and fake was better than nothing. There was nothing to say that life existed at that very moment. Even her being there left a question, was she dead or alive.
Petra stood there to ponder the mean of it all that was just the same with infinite repetitiveness. Standing was the only productive thing to do when wandering resulted the feeling over just standing in the same place. When the walls, ceiling, and flooring all seemed uncharged, did walking actually happen? Was there true movement? Just maybe she did travel miles on end to the point of exhaustion but everything was the same.
Then came in the questions of it being a dream, death, or actual reality she was stuck in. She ruled out dream since she never slept unless forced to like carbon freezing. Death that could be the answer for the old woman who cheated that old rival, they danced so many times to see who would win and just getting lucky of beating him so she had more time on her side. If it was death, then would she remember? Would she not? And Death finally won, would he not want to gloat about it for all eternity with playing it over and over for her to experience every second until time itself was reaped by him. That made her rule out Death’s hand being the puppeteer.
It left her with reality. This was real and it sucked. Clearly it was the worse place to be for just visiting a world. Standing there to see the same thing, her toes grabbing then releasing the gravel left her to move on with her thoughts. They had because there were features here that could not be explained. There was no sound. Nothing at all as infinite the walls went on, the deafening silence was as unending. Her footsteps, toes digging in the gravel, shouts were all empty like sealed in a vacuumed room or space.
No matter what, Petra held to her beliefs. In this situation, two in particular were important. Firstly, she held that she needed company to share her ideas with and fight against being alone. Any kind of social contact would change how things were going for her. Secondly, she held that all things came to an end. She knew that there would be an end for her as surely as there was for everything else.
Another grand day in paradise; however, it was all to fake. The mind playing old tracks of what was and not there. It was a way to deal with the lack of familiarity. If anything, the cold colorless stone walls, blacken gravel floor that her toes easily played in like sand at a beach, and the starless ceiling that was a void hinted to nothing, and fake was better than nothing. There was nothing to say that life existed at that very moment. Even her being there left a question, was she dead or alive.
Petra stood there to ponder the mean of it all that was just the same with infinite repetitiveness. Standing was the only productive thing to do when wandering resulted the feeling over just standing in the same place. When the walls, ceiling, and flooring all seemed uncharged, did walking actually happen? Was there true movement? Just maybe she did travel miles on end to the point of exhaustion but everything was the same.
Then came in the questions of it being a dream, death, or actual reality she was stuck in. She ruled out dream since she never slept unless forced to like carbon freezing. Death that could be the answer for the old woman who cheated that old rival, they danced so many times to see who would win and just getting lucky of beating him so she had more time on her side. If it was death, then would she remember? Would she not? And Death finally won, would he not want to gloat about it for all eternity with playing it over and over for her to experience every second until time itself was reaped by him. That made her rule out Death’s hand being the puppeteer.
It left her with reality. This was real and it sucked. Clearly it was the worse place to be for just visiting a world. Standing there to see the same thing, her toes grabbing then releasing the gravel left her to move on with her thoughts. They had because there were features here that could not be explained. There was no sound. Nothing at all as infinite the walls went on, the deafening silence was as unending. Her footsteps, toes digging in the gravel, shouts were all empty like sealed in a vacuumed room or space.
No matter what, Petra held to her beliefs. In this situation, two in particular were important. Firstly, she held that she needed company to share her ideas with and fight against being alone. Any kind of social contact would change how things were going for her. Secondly, she held that all things came to an end. She knew that there would be an end for her as surely as there was for everything else.