the gods we can touch /calamity + johnny
Feb 23, 2023 0:18:19 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker kelsier on Feb 23, 2023 0:18:19 GMT -5
C A L A M I T Y .
That shame doesn't leave you even as you lead the others, staggering, back to whence you came. The cornucopia looms in front of you, all that peace, that gorgeous soft sand, now stained with the blood of children. It's not the same as when you first saw it, the air has shifted, changed. There are ghosts here now, the spirits of pain tied to the blood and so you try your best to avoid stepping on the spots of red on the ground.
It's a curse of your birth, you half-god thing, your empathy knows no bounds, it clings to you to thick sometimes, almost like a curse. Your hands curl into fists at your sides as you lead your friends further in, but your cheeks are growing hot. There's warmth pooling beneath your eyes and you can feel The Mother's wrath coming to strike you where you stand.
A punishment for running away.
Suddenly, all you can focus on is finding another escape route. There's shifting in the sand behind you and Karl's voice opens up, blooming in the silence but it's only desperation driving you now. Whatever happens, none of them can see you cry. That would be like bleeding in a wood full of wolves.
Your eyes catch on a red gate on the other side of the cornucopia. A ray of sun comes through the clouds and falls on it and you know that it has to be The Mother, giving you your exit.
Your hand raises, pointing towards it and your voice shakes out, "There." Then you're off, rubber boots sliding in the sand as you run, tears pooling finally, running over your vision until everything is a blur. The gate rises up before you and then you're passing under it.
It's almost instant, the change in scenery. Maple leaves are like a carpet under your feet, they fall lazily from the ancient trees reaching up above you. The ground is mossy beneath the leaves, thick, beautiful. The air here smells fresh but old all at once. Nostalgia hits you, sending you to your knees, your hands wrap around the leaves as if they can anchor you to this mortal plane. your stomach heaves, a sob escapes your throat.
Are you certain you can do this, child?