[011 ☿] Silent Planet Mercury

[waterfell.livejournal.com]

Unearthly quiet falls over everything. This place is empty and barren; nothing grows in its desolate grey soil. It's a void without atmosphere, but those who arrive here find themselves able breathe normally and withstand the incredible heat of planet Mercury's sun-turned side.

To the daughter of this planet, it's breathing the nostalgic air of thousands of years ago. Here, she is at her strongest and her best. She thrives in the sun that appears several times larger than it would on Earth, she basks in its intense rays despite the dark sky of space.

Without turning around, Mercury speaks with her eyes fixed on the sky. "Watch," she insists. She nods to where the sun travels towards its highest point - and stops for several long moments before beginning to unwind its arc backwards. It's a sight only seen here, and only now while it's been sped up enough to be observable.

Before she can say more, a second brightness flares so strongly that it almost overshadows anything else. Mercury suddenly lets out a pained whimper and shields her eyes from the holy light of Venus. She has that flesh-crawling feeling of a nightmare somehow.

(ooc: artist conceptions of Mercury sunrise. The effect described with the sun's path is due to Mercury's orbit and happens over the course of a Mercury day - about two months of our time.)

Comments

[waterfell.livejournal.com]

It's worse than impossible; it's harmful. Every time they make their entire creed avoiding destruction, they also cheat themselves of rebirth and renewal, and thus their world continues to be damaged and wounded, more and more.

But there's no one to make them hope for better.

She nods. "I don't know what drew me here in this dream, but whatever it is should be within them."

[thatoldthatkind.livejournal.com]

"Maybe a new path." He offers. "One that will help you in your current position."

Given she didn't really learn from the forest.

[waterfell.livejournal.com]

She learned from the forest. She learned one thing she holds close to her, as something so rare and precious she hardly dares believe it: Just once, or maybe just sometimes, she can find support and help in others. (Of course, it was a dream. People near her, people for her, are never real, and that distrust has even crept into the dreams lately.)

"A new path?" She doesn't mock it, this time. She knows, of course, that there is more than one way to fulfill her words that she'll keep moving forward. Forward is many directions. But she still doesn't quite embrace it.

"There's no reason to believe it would lead somewhere better."

[thatoldthatkind.livejournal.com]

"There's no reason to believe it wouldn't lead you somewhere better."

[waterfell.livejournal.com]

It might be mocking, it might be a light resignation to the walls of their different viewpoints: her lips quirk upward in a half-smirk.

"You're an optimist."

[thatoldthatkind.livejournal.com]

He smiles. "Someone has to be."

[waterfell.livejournal.com]

"It's better to think clearly." She doesn't want her head clouded with optimistic nonsense that will only serve to make her forget the truth - and hurt her in the end.