07-01-2015, 08:31 PM
Oh look, oh my star is fading
She is alone, but she is never alone. Not now, not with the voices that swirl in her head. Today, they're not talking with her or to her, so much as around her. They're having a conversation in her head, and she's just the bystander. The awkward fifth wheel. "No, clearly Carnage could've been defeated by Swish. He was the greatest light king ever." the voice is definitive, dismissive of any complaints. It's one of her friends, one of the innumerable dead babies born (or not) in Beqanna throughout the years. This one is one of the older ones. It won't be long, she figures, until there are even newer ones. They've already started to trickle in as it gets closer to birthing season, as their souls leave their little bodies and their mothers stand hollow, aware or unaware.
She's thought about trying to find them, but she imagines they might not take so kindly to what Wrynn has to offer. No one wants to hear from a baby when they've just lost their baby.
"No, Carnage isn't defeatable. He's absolutely all powerful. I know, I saw him." another voice pipes up, weighing in on the argument. Wrynn doesn't comment on the fact they all know: that Carnage created their little afterlife, broke off their little erstwhile chunk of beach. And that Carnage had given them their current little argument platform, Wrynn's mind, as a reward for her role in it.
Wrynn sighs as they bicker inside her brain. She doesn't mind in the slightest. She just hopes that they enjoy it a little bit. It had broken her heart that she hadn't been able to bring any of them back with her, back from the otherworld, the many-worlds, wherever they'd been. She would have given anything to bring them with her, even for a little bit. To give them a taste of what life is, to see the sky, to touch the grass.
But it was not meant to be, and so she tries to let them experience these things within her, through her, letting her be the conduit. She'd let them fully possess her if she could, but it seems she can't (although not for lack of trying).
And so she sits in the jungle, letting the sounds of the deep jungle wash over her and the voices that argue like only children can, talking about things they think are mythical, debating what to them is just a fairy story. It is damp and hot here, even in the middle of the winter, and the vines are knit so thick that it seems dark although (she thinks) it's actually daytime.
And so it is that she is this way when Strangelet finds her. She stands alone, in a clearing, listening to the racket in her mind when "oh" – Strange's exclamation startles her, although she doesn't exclaim. Interested in what is going on, the voices in her head go suddenly quiet. She is quick to gather herself up, listening with a sweet, serene expression that turns to confusion as the girl speaks again.
"Strange? Why do you say that? I don't think you're strange." she says, completely misunderstanding the meaning of what her new friend has said. "Or, really, I think we're all strange."
The voices come back then, clamoring so loudly that Wrynn can only barely pick out pieces of what they say. But one thing seems incredibly clear: they know this girl, and they like her. Wrynn's eyes go wide, shifting strange rainbow colors, like a cloud alight with rainbow rather than lightning. "You know them too!" she almost squeals in excitement. Her voice is normally so gentle; she's never felt this happy, not ever. She's grinning. "You know my friends!"
wrynn