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Aftershock: Dragon Lair » Alazia
Level 1
Fae Female
Nov 23, 2014 (3 years)
Stats Growth
PrimarySteel Ripple
SecondaryBeige Butterfly
TertiaryMaize Underbelly
Energy: 34 / 50
Apparel & Skins
THIS_IS_AWFUL.pngTHIS_IS_AWFUL_3.pngTHIS_IS_AWFUL_V2.png -__-_-_._aftershock4.gif

Dust fills the air, turned into gold by the slanting rays.

There is a light, presumably the sky, bright and harsh compared to the cool shadows of the caves. Which is a bit unnerving in itself, considering you know that you are hundreds of feet underground.

In the center of the cavern, stands a strange, elegant statue. There are crystal petals decorating the ground.

The wings are spread, fragile glass. The room is washed in green and yellow tinged tones. Even though the light (the sky?) doesn't seem to be changing, and the statue not moving, the shadows seem to blur and shift.

The body is a dull grey, littered with - scars? Lines of lighter color split the marble. Light armor graces the figure. Each piece was created slightly damaged - rust on the pauldrons, a crack in the chestplate. Roses are curled around it, vines snake up the neck, each so vivid and lifelike, you could swear they are real. The tips are lightly brown, the petals just torn enough to mimic the truth. Imperfections upon imperfections. It was clearly made in the semblance of someone - (made of someone?)

You don't like these thoughts, rising unbidden from the depths of your mind. (sent?) It also occurs to you that there doesn't seem to be an exit to the room.


The hollow, melancholy eyes of the statue are watching. Staring. (beckoning) It's an illusion, of course. (of course) A simple trick created by the lack of pupils and the angle of the figure's neck toward the entrance.

But you don't really know where that is, either.

The light overhead is blinding.

There's a plaque at the base of the statue. It's blank. No- wait-

(it moved)

-there is something there. There's a sudden sinking, emptying feeling in your chest, a great pressure. A rushing shaking adrenaline pounding your heartbeat in your ears. Slight imprints are carving their way into the stone like it was wet clay, slowly deepening. Forming words. The feeling has a name now - loss. (but of what?)

Another crystal flower blooms above you.

The sinking, falling feeling turns into one of plummeting, like you're in a freefall. The figures, now static on the stone, aren't recognizable. They aren't something you should know. But, some seem slightly familiar, and maybe if you search long enough -

Instead you back away.

It's hard to tell now that the sky - the lights - are so searing and glaring, but the statue doesn't look so despondent anymore. You get the feeling that it is pleased.

Of course, that could just be the odd, crushing pressure of missing something you never knew you had.

n. the fear that you're no longer able to change, that you are set in your ways, no longer capable of changing yourself to who you wanted to be.

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