#cosmic theme

🌔🌟🌖 Albedo With A Cosmic Theme 🌖🌟🌔

... Eighth MoodBoard Request …

"Bad end" for Ford if he would be captured before having a chance to escape into 30-year travel

So I busted this out in thirty minutes here at work and I shouldn’t be but here it is and literally all of this just spilled out and none of it was planned so I hope you enjoy this totally random, unedited, spur-of-the-moment snippet in an ongoing Tumblr-only KilluGon coming-of-age series of drabbles/ficlets–

ANYWAY.

This is called L’amour et La Lune, a KilluGon story told in parts.

Gon had never asked about the fallen stars. Not until he was old enough to watch one clatter, and dissolve into burning dust. 

It clanged onto stone and rang like hollow metal. It was larger than two fists pressed together, a faint sparkle and ghostly halo fading in seconds. The blinding white glow reduced to reveal gold, then brown, then a layer of dark rust that peeled back and crumbled away into a trail of ash in the wind. 

Strangers walked in shadows around the star. But Gon only watched.

His fingerless gloves felt thinner and worn from working the oil pipelines in the Factory, and they lingered still after he brushed them over Aunt Mito’s skirt, a question silently shared as another star fell. And then another.

“Are they alive?” he asked. 

Mito’s expression was soft and confused when she lifted a bronze tube from the tub and drew a damp cloth over the line. 

“In a way, everything lives…” she paused. “Did you see one fall?”

Gon hummed, and Mito grinned. It made her look younger, despite the creasing in the corners of her eyes and smiles.

“An hour ago,” he said. 

Gon obediently passed over the polish, and within minutes the leftover sludge would be scrubbed clean, and he would return them to the Factory with a new ticket stub cementing his hours. 

“Stars fall the same way that humans die. They don’t usually fall around here, which is why we have the Lunar Fields. Think of it as…” she grunted and reached for another tool in the wooden lockbox set beside her, “a graveyard, for stars.”

He crossed his legs and sat on the plush carpet. The hearthfire was warm, a beating heart in the center of their cottage and misplaced in the narrow strip of cobbled streets and stone towers where Factory smoke billowed and spread.

“But sometimes they crumble away,” he whispered, more to himself than his aunt. 

Still, she answered. 

“Humans do too,” she said, a quick pull and tug of several levers maneuvering and locking the pipe back into place. “They just do it in a much slower way, you know this. Eventually the physical body dies, and over time the bone decays until we’re allowing room and passage for the growing world around us.”

She spoke everything like a lullaby. And so, Gon always listened, and always understood. There was little left to be asked or questioned when the people in his life were honest, even about death. Even about stars.

Gon still had questions, and a vision he couldn’t describe.

He craved adventure like foxes lapping up honey. He dreamt of adventures in faraway lands, of creatures large and small blocking him from his path. He believed in princesses and princes and galas and balls, and yet, not once had he ever considered a star falling, and dying. 

Before sundown, he turned away from the back entrance to the looming, shadowed monolith of the Factory, and followed the path to the Lunar Fields.

Mito would be furious with him if she knew. 

He walked with tireless energy, boundless in his step. Stone turned to grass and melded into ashen flowers. Soot drifted from the sky like snow. It was growing colder the farther he traveled, with the distant line of shadowed mountaintops fading behind a veil of mist. 

The flat terrain rolled up into hills, like the humpback of a sea serpent. Gon followed the winding paths, using inconspicuous wooden signs as his clue. 

The sun was rising, though it was impossible to tell with how thick the strange white and charred ash swirled higher and higher into the air, choking the clouds into wisps. 

He looked down, and through the haze of grass lathered in soot and polar-white dust, he glimpsed petals and chipped stones. Pebbles and fragments like a rainbow of discolored class. 

“Oh.” 

His mouth opened, realization dawning on him. He braced his shoes by the edge of an open grotto, and looked into the expanse of an empty, dark field. 

Hundreds of thousands of hollow, dark gold stars lay in scattered patterns. Some were unfinished, some broken cleanly, messily, discarded and tossed from the sky from which they came. It was so open, so cold and lonely, that it shook Gon to the core to understand that this was the Lunar Field.

Or one of many, he assumed.

He swallowed, and took one step forward–

“Oi!” 

He lurched, nearly stumbling over his own shoes. 

Was he hallucinating?

A boy, who couldn’t be older than him, was glaring icily from the middle of the field. He was dressed in worn gray overalls, protective onyx leather gloves, and sturdy boots designed for treading for hours on soil, and a baret that smothered down silver tufts of hair. He was balancing a long pair of iron tongs over his shoulder, a large wagon being pulled behind him.

The boy himself was rather pale, almost as pale as sugar or salt, or like the moon in a cold winter. It was an unfamiliar shade, as were the blue of his eyes.

Clutched in the pale boy’s tongs was a bright, burning, very much alive star.

“You can’t take another step without a pass, you know! The fields are off-limits to newcomers!” he said, plopping the star into a small bucket at his side. He moved to grab the wagon lever, when Gon snapped out of his reverie.

“Wait! I…” he paused. “I just wanted to come and see what it was like.”

The boy frowned, and glanced over to him. 

“Well, you’ve seen it.” He shrugged, and proceeded to reach through the star rubble with his tongs.

Gon snorted, his chest rumbling with laughter. The boy only huffed and jammed his tongs into the earth. Pieces of stars flew about in broken fragments.

Gon shook his head, eyes sparkling with interest.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?”

The boy didn’t even pause. 

“Doing my job. Not your business.”

“But, I mean, why are you picking up fallen stars…?”

The boy groaned, standing straight to stare at him with one quizzical brow risen.

“Why do you think?”

Gon frowned. “I don’t know.”

At his lack of response, the boy grew from hostile to incredulous. 

“You…” He tilted his head. “Wait, where are you from?”

“Whalecross,” said Gon, almost chirping. He pointed behind him, smile wide and aching. “It’s only a few miles that way.”

The boy’s lips pursed, his nose scrunching up in thought. 

“I know where it is.”

“I saw a star fall, and my aunt Mito told me about a place where they’re usually taken to called the Lunar Fields. So that’s why I’m here.” 

The boy scoffed. “You just, got up and left?” 

Gon blinked under the attentive glare. “Yeah. I wanted to see what it was like, to see more than just one, and where they don’t just crumble away. The one I saw disappeared as soon as it fell, right in the middle of my village.”

The boy seemed to mull over this, before setting his tongs on the ground and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Ash continued to fall.

“They’re not all dead.”

Gon perked up at this, fascinated. “Like the ones you’re putting in the bucket?” The boy hesitated, but nodded, those blue eyes widening ever so slightly. “Hm. Why are you cleaning them up? Where do you take them?”

Where do you go? Where did you come from? How many of these fields are there? Why do some stars die, and why do some wait until the last second? Do they have heartbeats like humans? Do they really live?

The boy watched him, studying him, like a wolf sizing up a fox. A creature unsure of its allies, wary to strangers and bred to attack or defend all the same.

“You’re weird,” he finally said.

Gon spluttered and laughed. He rubbed his neck, his muscles strained and aching from the long walk to this place.

“I’m Gon,” he said. 

The boy leaned back, blinking. He glanced away, hesitating with a nervous twinge in his fingers. 

“Do you need help?”

The boy didn’t answer, seemingly lost in his own world. A daydreamer. 

With a smile, Gon quickly bounded over the sea of scattered star pieces and ashen grass. He peered over the edge of the wagon, and looked over to the boy locking onto him with his face twisted up in disgust and surprise.

“I–you can’t just–”

“Can I help?” Gon asked, breathless. Curious. Starving to know.

The boy clamped his mouth shut. His tense shoulders and arms went lax, the reflexive move he made towards his tongs suddenly pausing as if to take in exactly what Gon was asking of him. 

Wordlessly, he shoved the bucket into Gon’s arms, not caring for the squeak he made.

“Don’t lag behind,” he said sharply, “and…” he whipped away from Gon, grabbed his tongs and proceeded to prod through the grass and dead, gray-toned stars, “Killua.”

“Hm?” Gon chuckled slightly at the irritated stutter that left the other’s lips.

“It’s–my name. My name’s Killua.” He waved an arm in the air, sighing. “Just. Yeah. Um. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

Gon’s lips curved into a broad, elated grin, bright teeth flashing through the haze of whirling ash, soot, and white stardust.

“Nice to meet you, Killua!” 

Killua visibly stiffened at hearing his own name, but he kept moving in his work in silence. The only sound that rattled between them were the occasional clang of a hollow, still-burning star, and the shuffling of their own shoes. 

Get Free 10 pages MTMEVE00541G_166_0001 – 1K GIGI Prompts Collections – Cosmic Skull, Surreal Fantasy Meets Sci-Fi 5692 10PagesDownload 1K GIGI Prompts Collections ‘Cosmic Skull: Surreal Fantasy Meets Sci-Fi’ 5692 series provides two documents, one document is 10 pages of prompts in 1000 pages, available for free download. One document is the complete 1000 pages of prompts, this is a paid…

Finally finished the bag I was working on for my sister’s birthday! It’s to go with the accessory band I made her for her witchy hat!

1- The white yarn on the top flap is UV reactive and will turn a variegated purple in sunlight.

2- Three buttons so that the flap always lays as flat as possible over the top.

3- The inside has a phone pocket, sized specifically for her phone, and a keychain/key holder with a little charm on it.

4- The straps are about 26-28″ in length, because yarn does and will stretch a little. There’s also a little handle at the top made from the inner fabric.

Surreal journey: Daily Prompt

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/28/daily-prompt-twilight-zone/

I fall, jagged as a brace of zigzagging hares, one black, one white – and the firmament slaps my foetal body into some semblance of vegetable life.

My bloody pumps green as jealous hope, through rank gold spines of sinuous bone; I am plant and human fused, tapering upward towards the silvery Moonscape, my cloak falling in an…