[The air grows cold and empty in the space around him. The ground shakes immediately under his feet like a shuddering final breath.
Vakama stumbles. His hands catch him, and his eyes frantically look up, pinpoint thin at nothing, a manic glance up--
Like the spread of oil on water do the starts blot out in increasing number. Colder and colder still, a shroud of darkness that starts to descend. The waves start to crash in the distant shores with a violence that echoes like grief. The sound of the surf overtakes the streets. The rumbling increases, the buildings start to fall, with a deep-seeded, dreaded fear that hits the chest like an arrow and bleeds in like poison.
It's gone.]
No.
[It's all gone.]
N-no, please--
[The cracking of thousands of trees echo, with splinters and foilage falling dead.
He yells, dodges, scrambling for purchase against the grass--
Echoing howls erupt as the wind whips the earth, colder and colder, deeper and deeper into that shroud of darkness that starts to eat away. The air grows thick and stale. The water rises further in mud and oil, a dark reflection of the dark sky.
He starts to heave for breath, as though choking--
He's prone and yet not, stuck and yet absolutely aware, unable to run or hide. A final breath descending, as all of creation cries out at once, all flickers of light burning out under the cold grip that tightens and the sea the sea the sea that rises up to meet the shroud and drown it all
in the end
With a staggered yell, Vakama comes to still prone on his hands and knees against the grass. He stumbles, ripping himself away, back onto his feet and nearly crashing into Void Archive in the process, eyes now back to normal but wildly travelling the skies, the shoreline, a franticness to his breath as though he'd been held underwater despite nothing actually happening to him for the last fifteen seconds or so.]
3/3 cw: hallucination
Vakama stumbles. His hands catch him, and his eyes frantically look up, pinpoint thin at nothing, a manic glance up--
Like the spread of oil on water do the starts blot out in increasing number. Colder and colder still, a shroud of darkness that starts to descend. The waves start to crash in the distant shores with a violence that echoes like grief. The sound of the surf overtakes the streets. The rumbling increases, the buildings start to fall, with a deep-seeded, dreaded fear that hits the chest like an arrow and bleeds in like poison.
It's gone.]
No.
[It's all gone.]
N-no, please--
[The cracking of thousands of trees echo, with splinters and foilage falling dead.
He yells, dodges, scrambling for purchase against the grass--
Echoing howls erupt as the wind whips the earth, colder and colder, deeper and deeper into that shroud of darkness that starts to eat away. The air grows thick and stale. The water rises further in mud and oil, a dark reflection of the dark sky.
He starts to heave for breath, as though choking--
He's prone and yet not, stuck and yet absolutely aware, unable to run or hide. A final breath descending, as all of creation cries out at once, all flickers of light burning out under the cold grip that tightens and the sea the sea the sea that rises up to meet the shroud and drown it all
in the end
With a staggered yell, Vakama comes to still prone on his hands and knees against the grass. He stumbles, ripping himself away, back onto his feet and nearly crashing into Void Archive in the process, eyes now back to normal but wildly travelling the skies, the shoreline, a franticness to his breath as though he'd been held underwater despite nothing actually happening to him for the last fifteen seconds or so.]