#old worlds

[motleybirdbones]

Ayy another page done :3 this one's kinda based off a place in a story I wanted to write a few years back and also kinda really wishin for a storm/some rain rn or to just visit the ocean again

[listing-to-port]

Nine landscapes of the old world

1. There is no land that has not been a city except that new-bubbled up by volcanoes. There are no cities that have no cities under them, that are not made from the debris of older cities still. There are no fields that are not criss-crossed by the bases of old walls. In the old world sunsets are long and red and if there is a haze over the sea you can look at the sun as it sets, framed in the ruins of successive fallen buildings.

2. In the old world there is no myth that is not built on the fallen remnants of older myths. Depending on the societal tides of the era, they may be framed as urban legends, sacred tales, urgent news from the next city along. Within them are histories far beyond those written down, which stretch a mere few millennia. If you could but unwind them, if you could unstir the water until the ink-drops of each story reformed, who knows how far back you would be able to see? But probably not back to before the redness of the sun. These are things too far distant to unstir.

3. There is no rut that has not been worn to its utmost depth. There is no holloway across the road-crossed land that has not in the fullness of time become a dreary tunnel.

4. There is no air that has not filtered through some dignitary's dying lungs. There is no gold that has not been a medal, save that locked forever in the oceans. There is no mud that has not in its time been drawn up through trees and splintered in fire and mouldered back to mud in some deserted battlefield.

5. There is no desert that has not been a forest and a city and a forest again. There is no desert without old bones. There is no desert without secrets.

6. In the old world there are cities sinking beneath the waves and cities long sunk that are slowly rising. The inhabitants take what can be saved of the sinking ones and move a little inland, making safe the dangerous ruins there until such time as the sea deigns to take them too. In the old world they know that a city is a fixed thing, immobile, a constant around which nature is pliant. This has always been known, since before living memory, and it will continue to be known until the lifespan of a city is less than that of its inhabitants.

7. There is no technology that can be made with the resources of the old or younger worlds that has not been made. There is no technology that has not been forgotten, in its time, and rediscovered, and forgotten again.

8. From time to time some old cave or sealed vault gives up its secrets. Sometimes the secrets are incomprehensible. Sometimes they are trivial. Sometimes they are known to be wrong. It largely depends on how much time has passed.

9. In the old world the stars, by and by, become a little stranger; and the sun a little redder and a little larger. Nobody ever came from the stars; nobody ever went. Was it worth it, then? To be a beautiful island in time? Because the sun is a little redder again, now, and a little larger, and the sunsets more beautiful in the growing haze. 

[ponderingcomplications]

Oh, he did a number on me. I drink his favorite tea, I keep boxes of it stocked in my pantry I listen to the music he played in his car, those old songs feel more like belonging than the ones I used to listen to I cook his favorite meals and lessen the salt I use though I used to use it on everything I have stopped buying bell peppers I watch his shows on the TV I still write poetry in his name but I am to blame for the marks he left on me I so dearly yearned to keep him that I let him stain my being I didn’t prepare for the moment he left, this house seems dauntingly empty and I am even more bereft.

[autumn-oceanopromises]

2/14 [1]

once upon a time i wrote a series of short stories, Called 14 reasons I love you and it was just pairing after pairing, so I thought, let’s do that again today. you like the worlds I’ve built, so these are 14 universes that i have written, and the people within:

--- 1. Tales of Taelwyn

“It’s been a long day,” I say, as I crest the top of the hill. Below us the herds of cattle with pearl-gems in their foreheads crush the clay into stone below, the late afternoon sunlight throwing up crimson patterns in the swirling dust below.

You look at me, shading your eyes from the sun, and give me a smile.

I’ve loved you for years now, it seems like: ever since our travels across the world and worlds, I’ve just learned to love you more and more. We are adventurers proper, you and I - five years now since you took up the bow and I the sword. Our close friends trudge up behind us; Clark with his staff and Harriet with her propeller-chakrams. Clark, ever calm, is wheezing for breath slightly, so I turn and smack him across the back of the head.

He smacks me in the side in return, and I start roughhousing with him as you sigh. Harriet walks up to look down at the drop below.

You are beautiful, Rachelle: strawberry-blonde hair, long, with arms muscled and lean. I am unashamed of staring at you until you fidget and smack me, and indeed I do it a few times just for that reaction.

“...And it’s even longer when you make it longer,” you mutter, and turn to look out on the vistas below.

On the horizon is our latest home; Clark and I carved it out of the mountains ourselves, using only water and earth - water to cut and earth to shape. Harriet and you made the furniture, air to smooth and fire to varnish, and we have sat and eaten - vegetables and grains from the roof garden, meat from the cattle below. Soon there may be a trade, or we may travel from world to world - I feel like seaweed and seafood, so perhaps we return to the endless ocean worlds tomorrow?

Righting wrongs, killing demons; I don’t need artifacts and magic items, I only need more time and adventure with you, exploring to see beautiful sights, memories to make together.

There are many reasons I love you, and the fire that licks at the head of your arrows is only one of them: your internal fire and drive is another. I can only wish that I can support you up and buoy you, with all the ocean and water below.

“Let’s get home sooner,” Harriet says, looking at the far-distant sun. Already, it is sinking below the horizon, while the gems below on bovine foreheads begin to flicker in anticipation of the night.

She leaps, all at once, off the cliff, the chakrams on her wrists swelling in size and spinning, until she generates wind currents of her own that bear her into the sky.

Clark sighs. “I swear, sometimes she doesn’t appreciate a good view -”, then throws his staff off the cliff, taking a running jump to ride on top of it, plants growing all at once to hold his feet to the staff.

You look at me. “I could sleep,” you admit, yawning. You take a running start, and leap off the cliff’s edge, transmuting into a phoenix of fire, your wings beating as you fly towards the horizon, and home.

I look down at the world below, the swirling red sands, the lines of cattle. Already at home there are a hundred carcasses, meat of every kind, and Clark is meticulously tending to the herb garden. If we need ice, no doubt Clark will make me do so - but I want my bed too, and you, and I want days where we don’t have to do anything, just spending time with the people we love.

I draw my sword - and then the other one too, and I take a running leap off the edge of the cliff. White energy cascades from edge to tip, becoming light so bright it would blind, and with that, I feel the wind rush through my hair and beat at my face.

All at once, as I look upwards, watching you fly, fire spouting from every wingbeat, brilliant and incandescent, I feel weightless, as though all the years have passed and come to one singular point, and I want it to never end. I want love from you and love and love and love, and happy, free days to forever last, eating good food, sleeping long hours, just being with you.

I hope to be with you forever, my love.

[mssarah84-blog]

CBCA Book Week 2021 - Awesome theme!

[gilneans-a]

As you can see, I finally did the Darkshore campaign.

[lobocomicsandtoys]

DESCENDER #28

"Old Worlds," Part Two The origins of the Harvesters are finally revealed as we jump back thousands of years to see the dawn of the robotkind and the the secrets of the Ancient Robot and how it connects to Tim-21 in the present. Secrets that have been building since issue one are finally revealed in this shocking new story arc. Each issue in this arc will feature "Little Descender" variant covers by DUSTIN NGUYEN in his "Little Robot" style.

Available at Lobo Comics & Toys this coming Wednesday, 03/21/2018

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