Conceptualization
Every individual atom
Wilma would be made aware now, standing there, in the void of the Outside Room, of every single atom that comprised her being. Of the context not only of her powers, but the history of her powers. Looking back upon Inspired after Inspired, each chasing their own "route" to the Godhead that ultimately created Inspiration.
History thereof
Wilma would see - see - see the world through the eyes of her own father, at the moment of her own birth. See the very moment she developed inspiration. See the manifold possible paths present in the adventure she'd had in Saint University. The worlds she could have occupied.
Acts both great and terrible.
And then it all branched out—-
Worlds where she never went to Saint Academy. Worlds where her identity was so mutable. To sleep - perchance, to dream. But each dream carried its own color palette - some were brighter, others darker, but each was its own truth unto itself.
A world where Wilma fought and defeated Selena at the precipice of the world when Selena had succeeded in her plans, only to then see them undone.
A world where Wilma was instead Will, in a relationship with—-Sam? And saving the world from a power mad Iuvem.
A world where—-all was lost, until the people from the moon returned to the surface, that the cursed girl was no longer cursed forever. MICHAEL! MICHAEL! MICHAEL!
A world beyond
The universe was merely an inch of material in the greater folds of a yawning multiverse.
An endless, rich tapestry of timelines and alterations.
And yet all branched from the singular point - a point of heat and confusion——
What equals the sudden red flash beneath this point and above it?
And then Wilma was sent careening through yet more worlds, seeing the past of her own in finer detail. Witnessing the young Saint in his fight with the vile Elf King at the pinnacle of the White Tower.
Seeing in another world that glowing final battle between a psychic boy and the monster that dominated his world.
Seeing a world where nothing was sincere and one girl suddenly decided to tell the truth—-
Descending lost star
The angels were not in heaven, they lingered just beneath it, seeking to endlessly perfect the worlds around them instead of accepting imperfection. For their creator had made them powerful but they lacked the brilliance he designed in his finest children.
The pantheons raged at the trickery employed—-
The dragon from far beyond let loose a sharp braying noise as the crumbling leylines and guard stones collapsed inward - let the Chalice shed tears that will never flow - destiny will be fulfilled.
The gates of the beyond begin their final hours.
The serpent will gorge itself upon the dreams of the defenders and their aspirations.
"Here, upon this world you know, this star, it is a divine prison, holding within it all that there is...and can be."
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Wilma would then awake in a cold sweat in her bed, feeling at once stronger than before, but also...
Edited by NickTheSwing on Aug 8th 2019 at 9:57:12 AM
Sign on for this After The End Fantasy RP.
An Ordinary Oddball
Awakening
Wilma burst into the realm of the wakened and sane with a strangled shout. She panted heavily and grasped for the images within her mind, trying to remember them while they were still fresh.
At last, she remembered that she had a journal with her and tried to write down what she had seen—experienced—it was simply too much—while her hands shook from sheer excitement.
Sparks of Inspiration flew from her hands as she wrote, rambling of beauty beyond beauty, of how the world bloomed around her then folded back into a single bud upon the branches of space-time.
What she did not notice right then and there, however, was the fact that her blackened arm had been cured and healed, disposing of whatever advantages it had given her before. In its place was an ordinary fleshy arm, but also a feeling of palpable power—like one could do anything.
Wilma remained sure that adventure awaited, and that she had indeed reached the other side of the chessboard. Her fellow chesspieces needed their queen, and she would serve faithfully.
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.
Wilma nodded her head in contemplation, and then slowly stepped forward to cup her hands under the dripping blood with an air of solemn dignity.
She eyed the odd blood for a few moments—and then resolutely lifted it to her lips and drank deeply.
Edited by JumpingFruit on Aug 8th 2019 at 9:37:07 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.