LIBBS
So after hearing about the myths behind catching the sun- Libbs was more than 'lit' as the kids say. In fact, she was absolutely excited, and enamored with the idea. Which made a lot of sense. Little did Libbs know, Libbs used to enjoy holidays quite a bit. She was the girl who was screaming Christmas Carols at the top of her lungs- in the first week of December. Or would decorate her house in lots of corny valentine messages for the day of love. It made perfect sense that she was going to get stupidly passionate about the idea, and thus, she went out of her way to try and have fun with it.
It wasn't like she had anything else to do.
Now, notably. One of the traditions that had to be held was capturing the sun somehow. The sun had to be captured. And some people had some interesting ways of doing it. She noticed some people bathing in the sun. She noticed some people capturing it in jars. She observed some art pieces which would capture the light within facets of glass, spreading the sunlight in a delightful glitter against the stone and flecked against her skin. It stirred some thoughts, and some thinking. She leaned against a table, sipping away at what was left at her canteen, nodding disappointedly at it's emptiness once she realized her lips were still dry.
Thinking was thirsty work. Thirsty..
And what has been growing into a more common occurrence.. something.. fuzzy.. soft. Delicate, like the last leaf on the tree threatening to run away with the wind. Sometimes, a feeling of warmth would grow in her chest, and an image would play out, nostalgic and tinted with the feelings of fondness. Followed shortly by a period of emptiness, and loss..
She recalled looking down into a jar of sweetened.. something. It started with a T. It was her favorite all-time drink. She and her sister would run around, plucking various things to stick in the jar to flavor it, salvaging from abandoned backyards and what little woods they could call their own. She remembered the juice running down her hands as she would slide an orange peel into their brew. And in the sun, it would wait. All day. And they'd watch, faces pressed against the glass, waiting excitedly for their manic concoction to finish.
Maybe that's how she'll catch the sun. But first, she would need ingredients. Starting with the big one.
Without so much as thinking about what she was doing, mission assigned and ready to go, she waltzed up to the nearest stall, the nearest person, and slammed both hands down on the counter, and asked. "Hello! I am looking for a drink. It starts with a T. It comes in little baggies. Do you know where anyone would find some?" she asked. She had a fierce determination that blazed in her sable eyes, threatening to set the world on fire- before her brain caught up, and she sheepishly recoiled. "... please..? And.. uh, sorry."
It wasn't like she had anything else to do.
Now, notably. One of the traditions that had to be held was capturing the sun somehow. The sun had to be captured. And some people had some interesting ways of doing it. She noticed some people bathing in the sun. She noticed some people capturing it in jars. She observed some art pieces which would capture the light within facets of glass, spreading the sunlight in a delightful glitter against the stone and flecked against her skin. It stirred some thoughts, and some thinking. She leaned against a table, sipping away at what was left at her canteen, nodding disappointedly at it's emptiness once she realized her lips were still dry.
Thinking was thirsty work. Thirsty..
And what has been growing into a more common occurrence.. something.. fuzzy.. soft. Delicate, like the last leaf on the tree threatening to run away with the wind. Sometimes, a feeling of warmth would grow in her chest, and an image would play out, nostalgic and tinted with the feelings of fondness. Followed shortly by a period of emptiness, and loss..
She recalled looking down into a jar of sweetened.. something. It started with a T. It was her favorite all-time drink. She and her sister would run around, plucking various things to stick in the jar to flavor it, salvaging from abandoned backyards and what little woods they could call their own. She remembered the juice running down her hands as she would slide an orange peel into their brew. And in the sun, it would wait. All day. And they'd watch, faces pressed against the glass, waiting excitedly for their manic concoction to finish.
Maybe that's how she'll catch the sun. But first, she would need ingredients. Starting with the big one.
Without so much as thinking about what she was doing, mission assigned and ready to go, she waltzed up to the nearest stall, the nearest person, and slammed both hands down on the counter, and asked. "Hello! I am looking for a drink. It starts with a T. It comes in little baggies. Do you know where anyone would find some?" she asked. She had a fierce determination that blazed in her sable eyes, threatening to set the world on fire- before her brain caught up, and she sheepishly recoiled. "... please..? And.. uh, sorry."
one lil short quote goes here!
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
