[She didn't know what to expect walking into the new mirror, but a garden this vibrant — in a place like this — was not one of the things she had anticipated seeing.
More whispers, more horror, even some more long limbs to get used to.
But not... This.
The overgrowth was concerning, and as she takes a few steps forward to inspect some of the flowers she tries to push the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach away.]
Somewhere ahead of her, the tinkling sound of windchimes drifts towards her on a cool breeze. The sky is a soft azure high above, fluffy white clouds crawling across at a snail's pace.
The flowers themselves dance along with the wind, shaking in merriment at her approach. A rainbow of colors paint the petals that surround her, but by far the most common shade appears to be blue.
[Shiemi stood in the field for a moment, taking in the surroundings. The flowers made her feel at home, back in her garden with her mother sitting on their porch sipping tea. If she continued to look around she could even pretend that her grandmother was nearby and if she went looking she could even find her.
Still, she felt rooted to the ground. She didn't know why, but despite the sense of calm washing over her, the underlying unease and weariness continued to surface.
Slowly and carefully, Shiemi reached out and skimmed her fingers along one of the blue petals, the overwhelming color among the fields of flowers felt off to her, despite the fact that the color was suppose to bring on the exact opposite feeling.]
The petals are warm to the touch, soft and silk smooth. The flower dips and bobs beneath the action of her caress, and for a moment all seems fine.
Then, from the roots up, the flower begins to wither and die. The stalk shrivels and browns, curling in on itself as the petals dry up and break off of the main body, scattering as they are taken away by the wind.
The flowers give no indication of accepting or denying her apology, as they are flowers.
The withering, however, does not appear to be contained to just the one singular stalk. More stems begin to brown and crumble apart, a spreading rot that jumps from flower to flower in a pattern that seems... A little too uniform. As if a path is being formed deeper into the flowers before her very eyes.
[Shiemi almost immediately jumps back in horror to watch as the surrounding flowers begin to die. She takes a couple of steps back, one hand gripping the front of her kimono as her heart beats faster and faster in fear.
Something told her she needed to leave, but no matter how much she wanted to run, she couldn't make her legs move.
She wanted to cry, to run — hell, she wanted to scream for help, but truthfully, who would even come to her aid? She was being a crybaby again. These were just flowers, after all.
After a moment, she took a step forward, then another. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she followed the path, afraid to touch any other flowers in case she would cause them to die as well.]
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amuze2022-09-08 12:04 pm
TikTok meme voice: oh no oh no no no no no
More whispers, more horror, even some more long limbs to get used to.
But not... This.
The overgrowth was concerning, and as she takes a few steps forward to inspect some of the flowers she tries to push the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach away.]
no subject
The flowers themselves dance along with the wind, shaking in merriment at her approach. A rainbow of colors paint the petals that surround her, but by far the most common shade appears to be blue.
no subject
Still, she felt rooted to the ground. She didn't know why, but despite the sense of calm washing over her, the underlying unease and weariness continued to surface.
Slowly and carefully, Shiemi reached out and skimmed her fingers along one of the blue petals, the overwhelming color among the fields of flowers felt off to her, despite the fact that the color was suppose to bring on the exact opposite feeling.]
no subject
Then, from the roots up, the flower begins to wither and die. The stalk shrivels and browns, curling in on itself as the petals dry up and break off of the main body, scattering as they are taken away by the wind.
Life is such a fragile thing.
no subject
[She quickly pulls her hand away, gripping it close to her chest as she watches the flower die in horror.]
I-I'm so sorry!
[That was her fault wasn't it?
She shouldn't have done that, they would have been fine if she had stayed away.]
no subject
The withering, however, does not appear to be contained to just the one singular stalk. More stems begin to brown and crumble apart, a spreading rot that jumps from flower to flower in a pattern that seems... A little too uniform. As if a path is being formed deeper into the flowers before her very eyes.
no subject
Something told her she needed to leave, but no matter how much she wanted to run, she couldn't make her legs move.
She wanted to cry, to run — hell, she wanted to scream for help, but truthfully, who would even come to her aid? She was being a crybaby again. These were just flowers, after all.
After a moment, she took a step forward, then another. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she followed the path, afraid to touch any other flowers in case she would cause them to die as well.]