entanglement /cansven vs devil's snare [d3]

Sleep came a lot easier tonight compared to night one. I assume it's because of the shitshow that we walked into yesterday. My body was in such shock by those labrador-sized-acrobatic-spiders that it wanted to go to sleep, hoping that somehow the sleep will distract my mind from the uncomfortable events in the previous day. I didn't dream, though. I don't want to dream anyway. I don't want to see anything good - because in a place like this, all that's good turns evil. My dreams, albeit limited in the first place, are the last thing I need revoked.

I woke up to the sound of a churning choir, as if it was one in a chamber locked far away, singing a song of worship over our bodies. Maybe the choir wanted us to be saved, to be rescued from this sinful place. To bathe us in water and make us anew. Perhaps a tide would wash over us in the midst of this chamber choir giving us their appraisal like the flood in Noah's Ark, though there was no Ark here as there was nobody worth saving. For now, the choir sang at a hum.

Hours passed.

We sat in some building that we found - luckily, not containing any of those fucked spiders - and I watched silently as drafts of sand would flutter by the window. It was like the choir was waking the sands of judgement to make their case.

A crack, a bang as if the barriers of hell had their dam broken, echoes throughout the arena. It crawls through my bones and on my skin - reminding me of the feeling of an insekt crawling up your body. A shiver, followed by a gasp as a typhoon of sand rushes into the alleyway of the window I'm watching over. Instinctively, I shut my eyes as if to protect them from damage, but I soon realize our goggles that we put on following the bloodbath may protect us. Opening my eyes, there was no sting, no scream of pain as my eyes were attacked by the torrential sands of grain.

I was okay.

"Well, good morning."

The choir at that moment found their voices, with echoes and hums and that echoed bam still resonating inside my body. Moments after I greet my rudely wakened ally, the window beside us shatters from the pressure of sand and the building begins to fill like an hourglass. "We should move. I don't know where, but we can see, and that's something." I stand up, thinking from a battle perspective. "We might be able to find someone. Or something." The building gives a croak. "I also don't trust this building."

It was a slow walk, simply because it was hard to tell who or what was in this storm. If a bull were to come charging out of the depth of view to ram both of us into our deathbeds.

We entered an area of stand-still greenery. It was eery, stoned, even. As if the devil's grip on these plants was so strong that they wouldn't bend to Gods typhoon to sift out the sinful energy from the world. The plants were waiting for something, for life, for a reason to provide once more. Maybe the plants were angry, tense at the world for leaving it to rot by itself. It was hungry to find a community to provide home to.

A vine snaps at me, barely missing my leg.

A second vine snaps out at Canvas, grazing his thigh.

It was hungry for blood.

I snap back, hoping my sand-studded knife is enough to keep me (us) alive.

attacks devil's snare, knife
|_PMR|IWMtknife

10.0

Eden's garden was crafted by God in order to provide a safe haven for the lab rats of humanity. There was only one rule - don't eat from the tree of good and evil. While there was no tree-bearing fruit here, we were in a garden. A garden that has a taste, a hunger. Maybe this time, the goal was to not be eaten by the bearers of the knowledge for good and evil. But if the plants themselves were trying to eat, what did their hunger for Canvas and I birth from? Were we bad people? No, not Canvas at least.

I was considerably one of poor intentions, but I also had a rightful process to those bad intentions. I want to win to show how stupid Sepetember was. I don't know if I'm a bad person because of that - does it make me bad to be angry that my grandparent died or bad that I want to rebrand the legacy it left me? I wouldn't think so, but maybe I'm giving myself my own validation. I have never really felt validated for these feelings before. I just kept them, and they fermented, like an old tomato.

"I've seen enough paint and art to last a lifetime." Canvas lets out a sigh at that, barely leaving a scratch in the twisted up, knotted vines that continue to whip out towards us. At least I wasn't the only one struggling to figure out how a plant fights. But I know that his statement is true - he's an artist, a canvas after all, but I don't know if art will be in his future after having to fight a bunch of paint-rolling-spiders.

I hope he does. Art seems to make him happy. If I can't be happy, I sure hope that dude is. Though if he's happy, I'm likely dead, and that's a combination that isn't surpassing my fire to redeem Appa. "I think I have too, and that was probably one of the few times its been in a can." I let out a quick breath as I step back. "First spiders, now a whipping bush. What the fuck have we been doing this whole time?" A small exhale falls out of my mouth, disbelief, and I swing.

attacks devil's snare, knife
UHOLg86hTfknife