The process takes a few days as from the roots of the Tree, Rudbeckia is reborn.
As she rests and regrows, she dreams. She dreams? Dreams? Is it a dream? Is it really a dream?
She is pursued by something larger than her mind can comprehend; something heavy and cold, fixated upon the spark of her soul. It is a beacon, a lighthouse, a siren's song that calls the Something ( the Nothing ) towards her and onward. Methodical and patient, it chases her slowly and steadily. There is no doubt that it will catch her, that it will find her, that it will lift its head from her fleeing form and see the place she tries to run to for solace and sanctuary and it will
end everything.
In her dreamnightmarevision rebirth, she casts a look over her shoulder. Her flight harrowing and motivated by purity of terror, by that ancient and most primal need to save herself at all costs — and behind her, it looms. The sight of the stars being snuffed out, one by one, behind a blanket of darkness. It should remind her of the day she arrived in Kenos, of the vision granted her as she was whisked away from the End of All Things — stars dying, the darkness spreading. But,
However,
There is,
Something there. It is not that the stars are snuffed like candles, like lives ended by the clutching claws of some great beasts. It is,
There are,
Edges. Movement. The stars swallowed by a great moving shadow that lowers its head slowly toward her, seeking her with eyeless, mouthless senses, reaching for her as she keens and wails and brings her hands up to protect herself in these last, unstoppable moments. It is waiting. Waiting for a victory that will open the path for it to finally finish what it started oh-so-long ago.
When Rudbeckia comes to, she’ll find herself encased in a cocoon. The cocoon is filled with a familiar sap, just up to her neck. The thin material of the cocoon isn’t difficult to break through, but it still feels like a great effort because of how weak she feels. It’s as if she’s been doing days of strenuous activity, and the feeling will linger along with general body aches and chills for the next few days as her body demands rest and recovery. During the night, her shard will jump and jolt in her body, as if trying to escape the trauma of her own rebirth.
Her sunbeam will feel too warm to the touch, scalding her fingers. It feels, at times, like it might immolate itself and end the last of her hopes. Ruby doesn't need to worry about this because she yeeted the damn thing ADIOS LMAO
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As she rests and regrows, she dreams. She dreams? Dreams? Is it a dream? Is it really a dream?
She is pursued by something larger than her mind can comprehend; something heavy and cold, fixated upon the spark of her soul. It is a beacon, a lighthouse, a siren's song that calls the Something ( the Nothing ) towards her and onward. Methodical and patient, it chases her slowly and steadily. There is no doubt that it will catch her, that it will find her, that it will lift its head from her fleeing form and see the place she tries to run to for solace and sanctuary and it will
end everything.
In her
dreamnightmarevisionrebirth, she casts a look over her shoulder. Her flight harrowing and motivated by purity of terror, by that ancient and most primal need to save herself at all costs — and behind her, it looms. The sight of the stars being snuffed out, one by one, behind a blanket of darkness. It should remind her of the day she arrived in Kenos, of the vision granted her as she was whisked away from the End of All Things — stars dying, the darkness spreading. But,However,
There is,
Something there. It is not that the stars are snuffed like candles, like lives ended by the clutching claws of some great beasts. It is,
There are,
Edges. Movement. The stars swallowed by a great moving shadow that lowers its head slowly toward her, seeking her with eyeless, mouthless senses, reaching for her as she keens and wails and brings her hands up to protect herself in these last, unstoppable moments. It is waiting. Waiting for a victory that will open the path for it to finally finish what it started oh-so-long ago.
When Rudbeckia comes to, she’ll find herself encased in a cocoon. The cocoon is filled with a familiar sap, just up to her neck. The thin material of the cocoon isn’t difficult to break through, but it still feels like a great effort because of how weak she feels. It’s as if she’s been doing days of strenuous activity, and the feeling will linger along with general body aches and chills for the next few days as her body demands rest and recovery. During the night, her shard will jump and jolt in her body, as if trying to escape the trauma of her own rebirth.
Her sunbeam will feel too warm to the touch, scalding her fingers. It feels, at times, like it might immolate itself and end the last of her hopes.Ruby doesn't need to worry about this because she yeeted the damn thing ADIOS LMAO