There is no answers, vocally, to anything now said. But Wei Wuxian will know his assumption is true. These people are enjoying themselves, even those in other parts of the city; and as if in response to how ignorant the citizens were, the group for a moment are no longer on that stage, but on some place else.
For it's easy to imagine, how utterly oblivious the rest of the world was if you were. These streets so well-known, each of them believe this again to be their home, their everything: the well-dressed and casually so citizens, the people in outfits and with their peculiar biologies; some human, some not, some somewhere in-between. In a park where people are chatting, walking through, someone is playing music and someone other group are putting on a show; in the shopping district, the streets packed and the holo-advertisements above and around them, it's just another day in Jinnjar, so real that it can be touched.
And then: the sky turns dark. Rolling from the glorious purple hues to darkened blues, blacks and greys, like a hand rolling across the sky itself and shifting it to these tones. Shifting shapes, cubes, circular, octagonal, diamond; as they look up at them - not everyone looked up at first; you didn't look up first, you had a show to do - they will be unable to discern what they are, what this mass is.
But it's growing, it's spreading, and finally even you can't ignore how dark the sky has gotten. It's the outdoor performance again. People turning in their seats, eyes going up on the anomaly above. The whispers spread around in the air, in their ears; confusion, apprehension, a growing fear. Claustrophobia begins to overtake you, whether or not you're one to suffer from it, and it spikes as the shapes you still can't make sense of grow in size. Closer, closer, they're overtaking everything, and the screams, they start! You hearsounds that shouldn't be; you feel as your body starts to choke, hears as the people start to scramble, but where to? Everything and nothing fills your ears, your senses,as your body suffocates and you are trapped, you can do nothing to stop what it about to be. Nothing but darkness surrounds you and this hanged point of torture of frozen in a coffin of death is the KINDNESS part of what is to come. You LONG FOR THE DARKNESS TO RETURN, FOR WHEN THE COLOURS DO RETURN
IT IS A MASS. ALL COLOURS, ALL ALL ALL ALL AROUND YOU. IN STREAM THE VOICES, THE SCORES OF LIVES THAT YOUR BRAIN CANNOT COMPREHEND BUT EACH VOICE COMES INTO YOU, A PART OF YOU, YOUR BODY SCREAMING TO EXPLODE AND YES IT IS UNRAVELLING, IT IS FALLING FALLING FALLING. THIS IS THE VOID. IT IS ENDLESS AND IT IS CRUEL AND YOU ARE BEING TORN APART BUT YOU ARE BEING. YOU NEVER HAD TO BREATHE BUT YOU NOW KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE WITHOUT. TOO MUCH TOO LITTLE AND WHY, WHY? THIS IS A PRISON, THIS ENDLESS VOID
AND SO MANY WORLDS, SO MANY UNWORTHY THAT CONTINUE TO EXIST WHILE YOUR DIAGAD WAS TAKEN AND STRIPPED AND YOU WILL CONTINUE TO FALL AND TIME HAS NO MEANING.
so sorry for the wait! [1/2]
For it's easy to imagine, how utterly oblivious the rest of the world was if you were. These streets so well-known, each of them believe this again to be their home, their everything: the well-dressed and casually so citizens, the people in outfits and with their peculiar biologies; some human, some not, some somewhere in-between. In a park where people are chatting, walking through, someone is playing music and someone other group are putting on a show; in the shopping district, the streets packed and the holo-advertisements above and around them, it's just another day in Jinnjar, so real that it can be touched.
And then: the sky turns dark. Rolling from the glorious purple hues to darkened blues, blacks and greys, like a hand rolling across the sky itself and shifting it to these tones. Shifting shapes, cubes, circular, octagonal, diamond; as they look up at them - not everyone looked up at first; you didn't look up first, you had a show to do - they will be unable to discern what they are, what this mass is.
But it's growing, it's spreading, and finally even you can't ignore how dark the sky has gotten. It's the outdoor performance again. People turning in their seats, eyes going up on the anomaly above. The whispers spread around in the air, in their ears; confusion, apprehension, a growing fear. Claustrophobia begins to overtake you, whether or not you're one to suffer from it, and it spikes as the shapes you still can't make sense of grow in size. Closer, closer, they're overtaking everything, and the screams, they start! You hear sounds that shouldn't be; you feel as your body starts to choke, hears as the people start to scramble, but where to? Everything and nothing fills your ears, your senses, as your body suffocates and you are trapped, you can do nothing to stop what it about to be. Nothing but darkness surrounds you and this hanged point of torture of frozen in a coffin of death is the KINDNESS part of what is to come. You LONG FOR THE DARKNESS TO RETURN, FOR WHEN THE COLOURS DO RETURN
IT IS A MASS. ALL COLOURS, ALL ALL ALL ALL AROUND YOU. IN STREAM THE VOICES, THE SCORES OF LIVES THAT YOUR BRAIN CANNOT COMPREHEND BUT EACH VOICE COMES INTO YOU, A PART OF YOU, YOUR BODY SCREAMING TO EXPLODE AND YES IT IS UNRAVELLING, IT IS FALLING FALLING FALLING. THIS IS THE VOID. IT IS ENDLESS AND IT IS CRUEL AND YOU ARE BEING TORN APART BUT YOU ARE BEING. YOU NEVER HAD TO BREATHE BUT YOU NOW KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BE WITHOUT. TOO MUCH TOO LITTLE AND WHY, WHY? THIS IS A PRISON, THIS ENDLESS VOID
AND SO MANY WORLDS, SO MANY UNWORTHY THAT CONTINUE TO EXIST WHILE YOUR DIAGAD WAS TAKEN AND STRIPPED AND YOU WILL CONTINUE TO FALL AND TIME HAS NO MEANING.