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
His rounds take him close to the webbed section of the plaza; he'd have liked to have gone through that area to get to his destination. He can go around if he must, but the moment he hears the tinkling sounds of the chimes, the hairs rise on the back of his neck. This strikes him as something supernatural, too eerie to be his business, per se, but when he sees the bones strung up in the web, he can't turn away and pretend he didn't see it. He's got to at least double-check and make sure they don't belong to anyone he might have known.
Thus, the sky overhead is still grey and pearly when he enters the network of glittering crystal and bone, but the reflections make it dazzling nonetheless.
The whispering question makes him want to turn and run, but oddly the appearance of the spiderlings is...well, reassuring isn't the word, but at least there are living creatures asking the question, not ghosts or the wind whistling through the bones.
Spiders. That Micolash fellow was obsessed with a spider-looking kinda creature, as he recalls, but his drawings looked nothing like these. They're creepy, but beautiful. More so with those humanoid eyes.
Cricket is in general surprisingly comfortable with the world beyond humanity breaking through the shell of the mundane. He was fine with the star spirits, as comfortable talking to Winter as any human should be, and Loki has a part of his heart that he fully intends to let him keep. It comes almost naturally to try to converse with these creatures, whatever they are.
"Whose, yours or mine?" He asks, standing still with his arms at his sides and spread slightly to show he's not carrying anything to hurt them. "Mine ain't ever been here. She died when I was little."
"Don't know about yours, but if you wanna tell me about her, maybe I can look for her?" Even as he says it, it occurs to him that's probably a bad idea, but it's too late to take it back.