amun
Amun didn’t know much about what happened. But what he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was that he wasn’t in the world he’d once known.
He'd just planned to step through the doorway of his makeshift hut to bask in the light of the moon once night had fallen. Instead he’d found himself...somewhere else. Somewhere darker, somewhere colder, somewhere less colorful and full of life than the jungle home he’d just begun to make for himself. Sure, this place had a moon and stars and even some beautiful roses with golden thorns on the grey and barren and snowy ground. But the moon didn’t call to him as it once did. The air did not smell as sweet. And, worst of all, he was changed.
Looking down at his hands, he could see they were plain. Normal. Human. Not the ones he normally wore at night, but the ones he sported during the day. His skin was not glowing a soft light that was a reflection of the greater one above. And as his normal, plain, stupid human hands came up to his head and felt around, he realized that his horns, his crowning glory, were gone as well. ”What. The. Fuck?” There was a bone deep anger within him, one even greater than the one he’d felt at being ripped from his celestial home the first time. Because this time, even the tenuous link to the moon he’d felt had been severed. And this time he had absolutely no idea where he was or how he’d ended up here.
Glancing around, he could see a tall tower behind him, partially ruined. Beyond that, he could see what looked like buildings, with some lights and smoke rising from them. Seemed as good a destination as any. Despite the fact that there was snow on the ground, he felt no discomfort, even though he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts far more suited to the hot and steamy jungle he'd just left: barefoot and shirtless, he started making his way to where he might find people who could explain to him exactly what was going on. And the explanation better be a damned good one.
Amalia
He'd just planned to step through the doorway of his makeshift hut to bask in the light of the moon once night had fallen. Instead he’d found himself...somewhere else. Somewhere darker, somewhere colder, somewhere less colorful and full of life than the jungle home he’d just begun to make for himself. Sure, this place had a moon and stars and even some beautiful roses with golden thorns on the grey and barren and snowy ground. But the moon didn’t call to him as it once did. The air did not smell as sweet. And, worst of all, he was changed.
Looking down at his hands, he could see they were plain. Normal. Human. Not the ones he normally wore at night, but the ones he sported during the day. His skin was not glowing a soft light that was a reflection of the greater one above. And as his normal, plain, stupid human hands came up to his head and felt around, he realized that his horns, his crowning glory, were gone as well. ”What. The. Fuck?” There was a bone deep anger within him, one even greater than the one he’d felt at being ripped from his celestial home the first time. Because this time, even the tenuous link to the moon he’d felt had been severed. And this time he had absolutely no idea where he was or how he’d ended up here.
Glancing around, he could see a tall tower behind him, partially ruined. Beyond that, he could see what looked like buildings, with some lights and smoke rising from them. Seemed as good a destination as any. Despite the fact that there was snow on the ground, he felt no discomfort, even though he was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts far more suited to the hot and steamy jungle he'd just left: barefoot and shirtless, he started making his way to where he might find people who could explain to him exactly what was going on. And the explanation better be a damned good one.
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
