Blue-Eyed Mother (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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nexus_crossings2020-08-03 04:00 pm
blueeyedmother) wrote in nexus_crossings2020-08-03 04:00 pm
From the Eastern Country
[OOC: When replying, please include the time of day.. morning, noon, evening, night.. that your character is coming. It will effect the outcome.]
It's hard to say when it happened, overnight or in the wee-hours of the morning, but at some point a portion of the plaza was hung in webbing that strung like spun glass across the facades and alleys. Small beads of crystalline material hung from the webbing like drops of dew on the workings of a spider at sunrise. As the breeze touched the layers of webbing the glass tinkled like chimes but there's an undertone of wailing and human cries in the sound. It's a ghostly sound of unknown origin.
However, on closer inspection of the web one could find skeletons hung, barren bones held in their natural position by more glass webbing. It almost looks like a crypt shrine for the dead in some church under tunnels, though these appear to be only the bones of large mammals instead of humans. The scene under sun or light throws shadows and reflections across the plaza. The glittering like light through a sun catcher dazzling a million colors across the ground and buildings across the street.
The approach of a person is what starts the whispering. "Where has mother gone?" repeated over and over in hundreds of voices from within the webbing. Slowly, tentatively, spiderlings come out the size of a human hand and shaped like orb weaving spiders. However, they are nearly transparent and as they move mirrored sections appear and disappear on the surface of their bodies.
"Where has mother gone?" They ask again in a chorus of eerie voices that are accompanied by human like blue eyes staring expectantly, with hope, at whomever is listening.
It's hard to say when it happened, overnight or in the wee-hours of the morning, but at some point a portion of the plaza was hung in webbing that strung like spun glass across the facades and alleys. Small beads of crystalline material hung from the webbing like drops of dew on the workings of a spider at sunrise. As the breeze touched the layers of webbing the glass tinkled like chimes but there's an undertone of wailing and human cries in the sound. It's a ghostly sound of unknown origin.
However, on closer inspection of the web one could find skeletons hung, barren bones held in their natural position by more glass webbing. It almost looks like a crypt shrine for the dead in some church under tunnels, though these appear to be only the bones of large mammals instead of humans. The scene under sun or light throws shadows and reflections across the plaza. The glittering like light through a sun catcher dazzling a million colors across the ground and buildings across the street.
The approach of a person is what starts the whispering. "Where has mother gone?" repeated over and over in hundreds of voices from within the webbing. Slowly, tentatively, spiderlings come out the size of a human hand and shaped like orb weaving spiders. However, they are nearly transparent and as they move mirrored sections appear and disappear on the surface of their bodies.
"Where has mother gone?" They ask again in a chorus of eerie voices that are accompanied by human like blue eyes staring expectantly, with hope, at whomever is listening.
no subject
skekGra and urGoh have talked to the Arathim Ascendancy, which is unsettling and alien even by Thra standards but not evil - the Arathim's aggression came from legitimate grievances deep in Thra's history, and they had been tricked by the Skeksis along with everyone else. The Arathim who live in the Nexus settled in peace. He wonders if he should introduce them to these new spiders.
"Hello there, young ones. I am skekGra the Heretic."
"And I...am urGoh...the Wanderer." The Wanderer shuffles forward, trying to get a closer look at the strange creatures. Not Arathim, obviously, but these alien glassy spiders could easily be mistaken for them.
"Don't be afraid," says the old Skeksis, lowering his voice. "We don't mean you any harm. We don't know where your mother is, but we have some good friends who are a lot like you."