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63 posts • 
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
~ Desiderata; second to last verse.
Exquisite is the sensation propelling Autun downward; the release of control to natural forces, letting the universe itself serve as his supernal transport. His eyes widen briefly in obeisance to the magnificent play, like water flowing over pavement fashioning itself in an ever-changing spiral stair shimmering under the translucent gleam of starlight. Sol, anti-Saturn, and anti-Titan strive with one another, their subtle currents converging recklessly, but the moon’s nearness empowers its gravitational tides to overwhelm the others and carry Autun with increasing swiftness through its faultless gamboge mantle.
Soon he is a spark, a meteor burning but not diminishing while coursing violently through an atmosphere swiftly fading to pale amber and, finally, shattering into a translucent sky. Sulfuric clouds hang in lazy tatters, layer upon layer bursting around him until they, too, vanish. It is then that he can see, rather than merely sense, the aberrations of creation; their thoughts warp around them like an obscene mockery of artwork, lines of ghastly metal wreathing a skeletal construct of otherworldly design. These he ignores, selecting through the haze of synesthesia the material over the intangible, and holding Tage again and Gennosuke anew; he also sees a writhing biotechnological mass caught up in a swarm of more conventional craft, although his focus is far from these Red Technocracy vessels.
Autun stops well above the surface, his mirrorplate peeling back to reveal youthful perfection, the violent immensity of Tngri juxtaposing his diminutive form. As if there were a path of mortar beneath him, he descends easily to the surface, but, unseen, his mind spins over Tage’s transmission, visible to him in its effort to stretch across the vastness of space to an indeterminate destination. However, rather than let the rumination linger, in the face of uncertainty, he merely casts it aside and approaches uncertainty in flawless nudity.
Toward his peaceful intent, he directs his weapon at Gennosuke and Tage, either respectively or, if they be they near one another, simultaneously, and unleashes a vibrant volley of copper strands that lilt across the barren moonscape and scatter before him a carpet of gentle blooms in shades of ivory, silver, and sapphire.
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
~ Desiderata; second to last verse.
Exquisite is the sensation propelling Autun downward; the release of control to natural forces, letting the universe itself serve as his supernal transport. His eyes widen briefly in obeisance to the magnificent play, like water flowing over pavement fashioning itself in an ever-changing spiral stair shimmering under the translucent gleam of starlight. Sol, anti-Saturn, and anti-Titan strive with one another, their subtle currents converging recklessly, but the moon’s nearness empowers its gravitational tides to overwhelm the others and carry Autun with increasing swiftness through its faultless gamboge mantle.
Soon he is a spark, a meteor burning but not diminishing while coursing violently through an atmosphere swiftly fading to pale amber and, finally, shattering into a translucent sky. Sulfuric clouds hang in lazy tatters, layer upon layer bursting around him until they, too, vanish. It is then that he can see, rather than merely sense, the aberrations of creation; their thoughts warp around them like an obscene mockery of artwork, lines of ghastly metal wreathing a skeletal construct of otherworldly design. These he ignores, selecting through the haze of synesthesia the material over the intangible, and holding Tage again and Gennosuke anew; he also sees a writhing biotechnological mass caught up in a swarm of more conventional craft, although his focus is far from these Red Technocracy vessels.
Autun stops well above the surface, his mirrorplate peeling back to reveal youthful perfection, the violent immensity of Tngri juxtaposing his diminutive form. As if there were a path of mortar beneath him, he descends easily to the surface, but, unseen, his mind spins over Tage’s transmission, visible to him in its effort to stretch across the vastness of space to an indeterminate destination. However, rather than let the rumination linger, in the face of uncertainty, he merely casts it aside and approaches uncertainty in flawless nudity.
Toward his peaceful intent, he directs his weapon at Gennosuke and Tage, either respectively or, if they be they near one another, simultaneously, and unleashes a vibrant volley of copper strands that lilt across the barren moonscape and scatter before him a carpet of gentle blooms in shades of ivory, silver, and sapphire.
