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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
November 15, 2012
chroma by ~SolarumNyx is a wonderful torrent of imagery.
Featured by neurotype-on-discord
Suggested by Kymira12
Literature Text
We were merely children when the stars came.
They rained down from the sky in a burst of light, like shards of glass pouring down from the heavens. Supernovas blooming in the night sky, petals raining down onto the barren earth - angels, falling with their wings sheathed, glowing, as they glided down. We watched, starstruck, as the glow overtook us - we were mesmerized. We waited with bated breath as the meteors landed, the celestial light subsiding as dark forms started to pick themselves up from the dust.
They moved towards us with an otherworldly grace, their steps leaving no marks on the earth as they descended upon us. Frozen to our spots as they approached, our bodies simply unresponsive in their wake. We were paralyzed. They stretched out their wings, embracing us in a softness unimaginable - a polymerization of silky feathers made of pure light, like a soft touch of a rose petal - and suddenly, our eyes were opened. The world was the same, yet so new, as it was washed with a glistening overlay of an indescribable sight. Everything was sharpened, yet softened. As we marveled at the sights, we felt a bittersweet pull to our cores - a unnerving certainty that one day, the stars would return to take back this gift which was rightfully theirs, that this was to be shared and not kept. We had no word to describe this new sight, no word beautiful enough, no word powerful enough - but finally, we gave it a simple name.
Color.
With that, a flood of new words was created to describe the spectrum of color that had been given to us - red, orange, green, yellow - the list went on as humans discovered newfound beauty in mundane, everyday things. We lived life to the fullest, and yet, we did not appreciate it while it lasted - even now, I remember it only in a haze, like a half-forgotten dream tugging on the reaches of your brain as you forget it in the rush of a new day - a beauty that exists only in my dreams, a sensation unreachable to us now, a state of pristine anoesis. Sometimes, I wonder if it was simply a dream, a hallucination, a delicate paracosm shattered by the ramblings of an unstable mind.
(though, would that make it any less beautiful?)
The stars offered us a simple agreement - as they had granted the gift of color to us, they would one day return to take it back - and return they did, a second cloud of fire descending through the stratosphere as we waited with an awed dread - we knew what was coming, and yet we stood rooted to the spot as they came to take the color away from us once again. We could do nothing as the iridescence faded from our sight again, leaving us in a monochrome world of what we had once called "black" and "white." Ironically, it was only then - once the color had left our eyes - that we could finally see the stars for what they really were.
They were not angels, nor were they simply stars. They were pure manifestations of light, of ideas, clouds of chroma that touched our cores as they drifted past us. They existed on a different plane, and we knew then that we could never understand them, nor could we ever hope to. However, we understood this - we had been changed. We had been altered irreversibly, fibres of our very being sewn into a grander tapestry. As their color left us, we replaced it with our own. After that, we were different. Flashes of a all-consuming emotion would take us, and leave in their wake art which emanated a faint trace of those tantalizing colours which had once been ours. Paintings, literature, it made no difference - the color was nonetheless present, yet painfully ephemeral. Eventually, we invented a moniker for the feeling - simple, yet complex in its origins.
We called it inspiration, and the stars we renamed muses, for their very presence inspired us to create.
And who knows?
Perhaps one day, we shall witness their descent once more.
They rained down from the sky in a burst of light, like shards of glass pouring down from the heavens. Supernovas blooming in the night sky, petals raining down onto the barren earth - angels, falling with their wings sheathed, glowing, as they glided down. We watched, starstruck, as the glow overtook us - we were mesmerized. We waited with bated breath as the meteors landed, the celestial light subsiding as dark forms started to pick themselves up from the dust.
They moved towards us with an otherworldly grace, their steps leaving no marks on the earth as they descended upon us. Frozen to our spots as they approached, our bodies simply unresponsive in their wake. We were paralyzed. They stretched out their wings, embracing us in a softness unimaginable - a polymerization of silky feathers made of pure light, like a soft touch of a rose petal - and suddenly, our eyes were opened. The world was the same, yet so new, as it was washed with a glistening overlay of an indescribable sight. Everything was sharpened, yet softened. As we marveled at the sights, we felt a bittersweet pull to our cores - a unnerving certainty that one day, the stars would return to take back this gift which was rightfully theirs, that this was to be shared and not kept. We had no word to describe this new sight, no word beautiful enough, no word powerful enough - but finally, we gave it a simple name.
Color.
With that, a flood of new words was created to describe the spectrum of color that had been given to us - red, orange, green, yellow - the list went on as humans discovered newfound beauty in mundane, everyday things. We lived life to the fullest, and yet, we did not appreciate it while it lasted - even now, I remember it only in a haze, like a half-forgotten dream tugging on the reaches of your brain as you forget it in the rush of a new day - a beauty that exists only in my dreams, a sensation unreachable to us now, a state of pristine anoesis. Sometimes, I wonder if it was simply a dream, a hallucination, a delicate paracosm shattered by the ramblings of an unstable mind.
(though, would that make it any less beautiful?)
The stars offered us a simple agreement - as they had granted the gift of color to us, they would one day return to take it back - and return they did, a second cloud of fire descending through the stratosphere as we waited with an awed dread - we knew what was coming, and yet we stood rooted to the spot as they came to take the color away from us once again. We could do nothing as the iridescence faded from our sight again, leaving us in a monochrome world of what we had once called "black" and "white." Ironically, it was only then - once the color had left our eyes - that we could finally see the stars for what they really were.
They were not angels, nor were they simply stars. They were pure manifestations of light, of ideas, clouds of chroma that touched our cores as they drifted past us. They existed on a different plane, and we knew then that we could never understand them, nor could we ever hope to. However, we understood this - we had been changed. We had been altered irreversibly, fibres of our very being sewn into a grander tapestry. As their color left us, we replaced it with our own. After that, we were different. Flashes of a all-consuming emotion would take us, and leave in their wake art which emanated a faint trace of those tantalizing colours which had once been ours. Paintings, literature, it made no difference - the color was nonetheless present, yet painfully ephemeral. Eventually, we invented a moniker for the feeling - simple, yet complex in its origins.
We called it inspiration, and the stars we renamed muses, for their very presence inspired us to create.
And who knows?
Perhaps one day, we shall witness their descent once more.
Literature
Don't Talk To Me
"I'm sorry," I said, and meant it.
She nodded, her expression unfathomable. "Me too."
There was a long pause.
"Just two days ago," I said quietly, avoiding her eyes, "we couldn't even be in the same room without going for each other's throats."
She turned away. "Yeah," she admitted. "But look at us now."
I continued, "And just two months ago we were the best of friends. But look at us now." This time I looked directly at her, smiling mirthlessly.
"But look at us now," she
Literature
Text Messages to No One
Hey haven't talked to you in a while.
What's up?
==>send message?
/end
==>save message? y/n
/n
I saw that you got
/end
==>save message y/n
/n
Its been a while.
Maybe we could hang out?
==>send message?
/end
==>save message y/n
/n
Wow, I cant believe it's been so long since we talked!
What happened, do you think? Lets talk and
/end
/end
==>message autosaved
I miss you.
==>send message?
/end
==>save message y/n
/y
Today I thought about that tree in your backyard.
And how we used to climb it to get on the roof of ur garage.
We had some good times.
==>send message?
/end
==>save message y/n
/y
I havent been u
Literature
a conversation
i welcome sleep as it is - a long lost friend returning home from battle, arms draped over my shoulders, weeping. i held it close and whispered - as if it were my only friend, being the prince of the sky, asking of why i cling to my possessions like a dog to its territory, why i harbor insane notions about silly things -
"we are all barren, stripping the land, looking for love in white-capped waves of our own destruction."
i asked why mother nature was pulling me by the roots of my hair, and being as i am, a girl who speaks vague classroom french and stands at the waterside passing small thoughts
like stones as the brine and tangling seawe
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AN: written for a prompt - “write a legend, myth, or fairytale about falling stars.”
for
’s contest.
i’m somewhat proud of how this turned out.
though.
purple.
~Nyx
EDIT: WOAH WHAT I GOT A WHAT WHY HOW
WHAT
OKAY
THANK YOU SO MUCH
OMG
OMG
LET ME DIE HAPPY
//SCREAMING
...
//goes to reply to every single comment
for
’s contest.i’m somewhat proud of how this turned out.
though.
purple.
~Nyx
EDIT: WOAH WHAT I GOT A WHAT WHY HOW
WHAT
OKAY
THANK YOU SO MUCH
OMG
OMG
LET ME DIE HAPPY
//SCREAMING
...
//goes to reply to every single comment
© 2012 - 2024 SolarumNyx
Comments149
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Woaaahhh, I didn't know you had a DD! That's not to say you didn't deserve it, this is great, but still! 
Congrats (even though it was last year >.>), congrats, congrats, congrats!
Congrats (even though it was last year >.>), congrats, congrats, congrats!