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dance of the dead || afterlife creation

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peppermint! 10/11/18
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t a g s: #afterlifecreation

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guess who’s slightly less behind

i mean, i’m kinda caught up on amino related things, but life related things? still a mess. in the mean time, the good place is a Very Good Show.

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dance of the dead || afterlife creation-[CI]t a g s: <a href='/c/MythFolklore/tag/afterlifecreation/'>#afterlifecreation</a>

[C]____*•.o.•*____

[CI]guess who’s slightly less be

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”papa?”

”yes, child?”

”will i ever die?”

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the valley of wine and bone

the boy walked to the perimeter of the closed off valley. he asked his father why this valley was tucked away from everything. his father simply looked off into the ashy gray distance, transfixed by nothing. his grandfather told the boy that, if he was so curious, reach his hand past the fence. the boy did. the boy screamed. the boy vowed to never return to this valley again.

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the house of the patterned sky

the father of the boy often came to the house alone. calming smells of lavender, eucalyptus, and rose filled his nose when he entered. it seemed he could only focus when surrounded by these walls. he let his mind wander. he remained in the house for centuries.

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the aquarius prefecture

the boy walked to the prefecture with his grandfather and immediately felt uncomfortable. he asked his grandfather why the air in his amaranthine lungs felt tight. why the sky was blindingly blue and the sun was pure white. his grandfather let out a dry laugh. close your eyes and hold your breath, he told the boy. you are not meant here.

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the silken garden, spun with lace

the boy was told to never come to the garden. he followed that rule for an excruciatingly long time. when he was asleep, he could smell the aromatic blooms. he swore he could hear glasses clinking and dignified laughter. he snuck to the edge of the garden one night, pushing away the leaves to clear his view. however, no matter how many plants he pushed away, there were always more blocking his line of sight. the garden seemed so inviting, almost begging him to walk further into it. he couldn’t help but oblige.

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the horizon and the sunrise

the grandfather walks with his back straight and his head held high. the souls in this place were covered in flickering glamour and and transparent riches. only the grandfather could see past their fantasy. still, he couldn’t help but in. the lap of luxury is one that most rarely ever sit in, and the old man had all of eternity to pretend he belonged there.

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the shore of unfacilitated finery

the boy was exhausted. he couldn’t understand the rules of this place. how long could a soul wade through the waves of nothingness, thinking they had hit a jackpot? they were fattening themselves on emptiness! what sustenance was there to be gained? he wished to ask a soul, so he did. his father was yelling something at him, but it was honeyed and thick, incomprehensible. he took in the lazy eyes, the frothing mouth, and ran to arms of his father.

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the entanglement

he had never been this far from their home. his grandfather brought him to the edge of their universe, to a writhing mass of vines and leaves and foul smelling flowers. the boy was hesitant going into the mass, gripping his grandfather’s robes. he heard violent yelling coming from the mass. he begged his grandfather to go back home. he received a scowl in response. the boy did not think his “innocence” was worthy of jealousy. his grandfather thought otherwise.

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they will never die. but this does not mean they can not reap the rewards of death.

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