Blue-Eyed Mother (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blueeyedmother) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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
They can hear well and the sound of the vibrating things that had carried their mother away, or at least what they thought was their mother, drew their attention. They approached cautiously looking for what it was and where their mother was at.
no subject
Trouble is getting there, which she realizes is going to be more complicated than she hoped when the little spiders crowd into the street between them and their destination. Well, fuck. Under most circumstances, Furiosa would have zero compunctions about bowling into a group of individuals blocking her way when she's in a motor vehicle. Human, spider, alien--wouldn't matter. Except the child-voices have her second-guessing herself.
She hesitates, with a split second to make a final decision, and swears out loud before making a sharp turn and slamming the brakes, just barely managing not to tip the bike and spill herself and her passenger into the street.
Look, they also look like glass, too, and glass can puncture tires. That's her fallback excuse. She's not running over the leggy little schlangers.
She puts a foot down to keep the bike from falling, idles the engine without stopping it. "Okay. I guess we better talk, then. Why are you chasing him?"