Snek - Chocoro Session 2

[bluediligence]

Everything glitches.

You.

The world.

– fracturing fragmenting unravelling –

and everything is blue

✦

Comments

[wroughtandtempered]

[ do the plaques have anything written on them? ]

[bluediligence]

One is blank, while the second gives the painting's name:

隔たる名も無き森

The blank one has itty bitty tiny hinges. It looks like you could lift it up!

[wroughtandtempered]

[ oh fuck, kanji, don't make her read kanji. SHE MAKES A BRAVE ATTEMPT, muttering under her breath, but sometimes you only remember "forest" and "name" and then none of the grammar involved and—

oh hey, hinges. hinges she can handle; she uses one claw to nudge the blank one carefully up. ]

[bluediligence]

The plaque swings open easily, revealing a miniature clock with a beautiful rose design … and no hands. There are two small keyholes in the center.

[wroughtandtempered]

Oh...

[ it is very pretty

it's also very delicate and small. ]

...Oh, fuck. No thumbs is gonna fuck me again, isn't it.

[ pulling back to lick her nose thoughtfully, then going to look at the other painting ]

[bluediligence]

This painting is a hot mess. The colours – everything about it, really – seems to be in flux, albeit subtly, almost like patterns of smoke, or ink in water. Or maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you?

It's hard to say whether the spiderwebbing cracks are part of the painting, or if they're happening to the painting.

Centered below the frame is a small, raised plaque.

[wroughtandtempered]

[ spends a few moments staring at the painting, before shaking herself and going to check out the plaque cautiously ]

[bluediligence]

ƨnoiɈɒɈɔɘqxɘ .˚ *꒰ঌ❦໒꒱ * ˚. ɿɘɒliɈγ

[wroughtandtempered]

[ mutters "fuck" very quietly— then tilts her head to one side. then over to the other, this time far enough her head goes partly upside down ]

"Expectations" ... "reality"? ...And wings in between...

[ ppponders that, then raises a paw—

glances at the cracks. hmm. no, let's do this experiment with the other painting. she walks back to the house in the forest and reaches out to boop it. ]

[bluediligence]

PAINTING BE BOOPED.

Nothing happens.

[wroughtandtempered]

Yeah, that would have been too easy.

[ hmm. it's a rose, so...

going to check out the vase of flowers? ]

[bluediligence]

The glass vase looks like it's been shattered time and time and time again. Not just cracked, or chipped, or broken, no – shattered. It's just about holding together … somehow … despite still missing many, many pieces. Impossible pieces. This vase should not be. It should not be a vase. And yet, somehow …? It is? Threads of colour – you can never quite tell what colour it might be – wind through and around it like kintsugi.

Inside is a motley arrangement of flowers: white rose, sunflower, daffodil, snowdrop, plum blossom, and kalmia. The sunflower is missing a petal, and also ... part of itself, in strange, fractured, void-y sort of way that gives you a headache the moment you try to focus on it.

[wroughtandtempered]

... Choco-chan.

[ that symbolism is not fucking subtle.

she probably doesn't need to be too careful with the vase—from everything she's picking up so far, if she's right it's gone through far worse than her— but she's still very, very cautious and gentle as she goes to stick her nose in the flowers. ]

[bluediligence]

Any contact with the vase, accidental or otherwise, feels a bit like putting your head into a blender and then tossing said blender, still plugged in, into an overflowing bathtub.

But, like. Mildly? How a sensation like that can be mild is a mystery for the ages.

As for the flowers ...

tASte ThE RaiNBoW

Which is to say:
You experience a fizzysparky cascade of color static snow. Light green is especially fragile and dimished, while dark green is most prominent, with some washes of the lighter blue.

Here and there, glitching strings of binary blue blue blue burst and fragment in overbright pin-pricks of w̶R̶o̴n̵G̷

It's incredibly chaotic, and it gives you a headache in both the "ow my brain" way and the "herding cats is fucking exhausting" way. The feelings beyond the colours are drowned out for now.

[wroughtandtempered]

Mmmotherfucker—

[ please hold while she becomes a flat noodle for a little bit, coiling up a little so she can put as many paws as she can get in range over her face ]

F-f-f-fuck. Okay. ...Okay.

[ that sucked ass but also VALUABLE??? INFORMATION? MAYBE? definitely starting to build some color associations, even if she didn't get any feelings this round.

though, uh. maybe should have done the flowers one at a time. fucking whoops

anyway please hold while she gets another phone call from Donnie. ]

[bluediligence]

what do u mean identity crises aren't a good time,

[wroughtandtempered]

[ the extra fun part is the bit where she's never had anything resembling an identity crisis in her life. no clue how to handle that shit. on the other hand, the fact that Korone's been hanging on through that just increases Eve's opinion that she's a fucking badass.

anyway of course she tried booping the wrong fucking painting, thank everything for game guide Donnie. eventually she peels herself both up and away from the phone call to go cautiously place a paw on the more feathery painting and push. ]

[bluediligence]

It ripples gently, allowing you through.