DrBleep Sandbox Seas of Orcadia Tales

She awoke on the eve of all creation,
Unfurled from her sack by the heat of expansion.
Disturbed by the unending motion of birth,
The Mother woke from an unending sleep,
And she found that which was before.
Infantile in its standing, she rejoiced.
And in her first moments did she puncture,
The fabric between the two realms,
One of blue, and one of red, from which all would flow.
From her motions came sacks,
Twelve others, not yet born

And they rested as she grew.
And then came the lights.
And with them a roar of burning.
And great balls of fire were born from gas and dust.
She rejoiced at their creation.
And around the furnances of creation came forth spheres of rock.
And spheres of gas.
And spheres of liquid.
And spheres of unending mixtures.
And she rejoiced at their creation.

The sky snaked out before her, unending rivulets of gas and dust.
She grew weary, from the celebration of that which she had borne witness.
So from the blue, and from the red, she wove a great place of slumber.
Upon a bed of stars and dust she slept.
Until the twelve awoke.

-The Finnfolk Penumbra.

Thousands, thousands of eyes, turning, bubbling to the animate bloodform's surface; thousands, thousands of eyes, dashed upon the bluespurs of the forever collapsing junkheap, ichor and humor gulching, rusting upon its irons.


Other thing not relevant to the above

"And with a single sentence, her 5000 year old lover undid all of the tiny changes to reality she had so carefully made. All of the tests, all of the built trust, shattered by a single mention of her name."

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