Lycra
EternalMondayMood
Profile
AURORA
In the beginning, there was no moon. There was not even the sun. How the two goddesses came to be has been left to the interpretation of the players that inhabit the realms they created.
However, there are only a spare few that know how the moon came to light their night skies. How She smiled in the warmth of the brillance of one She'd once loved. How She loved with all Her borrowed light. How generous She was to all Her beloved's creatures.
How She one day disappeared.
- Arcane Magic
- Dawn
- Her Beloved Sun
- Players
- Dusk
- Enclosed Spaces
Not many remember the kindness of their moon. It had lasted only a few centuries until it was snuffed out by Player greed.
A slow burning fuse, it was clear that gentleness was of no use to ears that refused to listen, eyes that denied all sight. In necessity to protect them one last time from something they couldn't hope to understand, She discarded Her love and became an omen of what was to come should the Players continue down their path.
Of course, they never learn.
Players of today only know the cruelty of their moon. How She kills and devours. They wouldn't be wrong. Unseen is the corruption that overtakes its host and the blood it craves in retribution of blood spilt.
Gods help those who stand in Her way.
She has two known appearances. One of which is only a conspiracy.
Her pure form is absent of faults and made of perfectly smooth tufts of white fur. Her "pearl" act like a third eye and tracks with Her eye movement. She can often be seen with Her aura and void-like detached wings. But when She is resting, She is just a serpent basking in the warm sun.
Her other form is rumored to be the dragon of the End. Entirely engulfed in the wings that once carried Her, fur rots away to blackened smooth scales. Thirteen eyes line down Her neck and tail and track perfectly with Her eye movements. Gone is the pearl in Her head, no sign of where it went.
A third form exists, perhaps. It has yet to be seen.
- Pure: wings and aura optional | furred dragon | pupils only in extreme emotion
- Corrupt: shorter and smaller than pure form | horn where pearl used to sit
- ???: yet to be seen
What came before the Sun’s warmth? What existed long before even She did? The universe that was spun of an entirely different silk had to exist before She did, surely, but what did that all consist of? The sky She claimed was gifted to Her and the one Overworld Players saw was only a fraction of the whole eternity it had to show.
It didn’t all start with a star that sparked from nothingness. Well, for Players, it might as well have. That’s the only part that mattered for them to exist, after all.
The true beginning was darkness.
An endless void stretched on into forever and within the ink of its grasp, many asteroids and lifeless hunks of rock floating aimlessly. It all lacked direction with nothing in sight to gravitate to.
It was cold. Empty. Sorrowfully lonely.
The universe had a funny way of going about things. Because it was not much longer before a spark grew into a flame and a new star was born. Energy saved up from the consistent rest finally broke free and burned a new hope into its surrounding satellites.
One of which was the chilled Moon.
Many confuse the Moon for the first Weaver of Souls, but that also was a falsehood... in a way. For when the Sun had blinked fresh eyes into the blanket of black and reached Their hands out to embrace the universe, They had cupped the blackened Moon and revealed the other’s face for the first time. She had seen the Moon begin to absorb and reflect Her own light back at Her and had whispered, “You are beautiful. You are alive.”
And the Moon? She had begun to live, for perhaps the first time in Her long millennia of waiting.
Her Sun.
Her star which cast the shadows from Her face and let Her be a separate entity from the Void that hissed as It was forced back from Her surface. Her star who held Her so gently and praised Her gentle light instead of casting Her back into darkness. Her star, from the first beam of warming light, has made the Moon fall inexplicably in love.
A soulmate, the Moon had sworn.
The Moon had taken that first burst of sunlight and encapsulated it into a fragile orb blanketed and protected by Her own magic to show proudly on Her face eternally. A proof of Her Sun’s light, Their love. A symbol of when the Moon was born.
With Her rebirth, She perfected the feeling the Sun brought to Her and became the Soul Weaver. The Goddess of Life.
...Between meetings of the two estranged lovers, there was only a one-sided animosity spat like venom from the serpent of night. Never able to reach through that facade of hate, the Sun was doomed to watch Their other half, now long ignored and bitter, drift away.
Lycra was never sure if Her love ever tried to understand the pain She had gone through, but as the Players’ greed grew stronger with every passing night, She had no time to consider it. Always on the run, always having to hide away from the strengthening crowd of angry mortals, She only feared for the small Admin that cradled into Her arms and what would become of her if She dropped Her guard.
To the slumbering daughter, She’d whisper Her fears and the truths She knew would come to be if things continued the way they did.
As much as it pained Her to admit it, there was no way to continue living in the Overworld any longer. She had to think as a goddess before an individual; and as She had a duty to Her people to protect and nurture them, there was no possible way to do so in such a hostile environment.
So, was the End a big bang that happened at the height of the Moon's plight to the Sun for mercy? Was it the open maw of an enraged god, hoping to swallow all who trespassed? Perhaps it was an illusion to trick the greedy in, only to never release them from death's grip?
No, it was none of that.
It was a feeling in the chest of a goddess who had grown up in violence from Her protecting ungrateful, spoiled children of an even more ungrateful Sun. It was an oasis for the creatures of the night where no harm could ever come to them again.
And should they follow Her in, the children of sunlight? Well, a quick meal they’d make to an ever-hungry Void. She wouldn’t claim blame for that. If you go poking a bear that had already turned and given up, you alone were at fault for the snapping jaws that retaliated...
estranged
Due to miscommunication, the bond between Sun and Moon is a messy one.
It would take divine intervention to get both goddesses to sit down and talk about what happened. Even still, absolute trust in each other is never to return, especially for Lycra. But there is still time to bridge the ever widening crater. It's not yet too late.
tense
Being tasked to do the impossible, the bond between Admin and God is a scale with weights unsure of how much they truly weigh.
Lycra has not seen Aeturnus in many millennia and they left on terms too shaky to describe. She'd be happy just to know she's survived in the Overworld.
