[ In the Godlands, it's not uncommon to catch sight of a small pink fox roaming the forests. While it often dozes under the crystal trees, it also enjoys following people — gods and unfortunate wandering mortals alike — around, laughing from behind bushes and perched in the branches of trees.
But the Singularity itself is usually where Julie prefers to be. She thinks nothing of spending weeks at a time curled at the base, a speck of brilliant carnation pink against the enormity of the stone. She has never felt the need to grow large, as so many of her peers have; Julie has contained the magnitude of the Singularity within herself since long before she could even fathom the idea of godhood. She needs no additional space. When she's been there, flowers sprout at the Singularity's feet for months after, crawling upward on vines to embrace the monolith. Those who enjoy heights may sometimes find her lazing in the opening at the top, accompanied by an opalescent snake and some matching butterflies.
It's easy to overhear her in the quiet of the woods, carrying on what seems to be a one-sided conversation with no one. Her accent, finally softened after centuries, is still sweet and lilting as she chats away. The topics are wide and varied, but the tone is always that of someone chatting with their best friend. Fellow gods who interrupt may find themselves suddenly experiencing the other end of the conversation — the Singularity's end, all deafening emotion and wordless sensation. ]
OTA - GODLANDS
But the Singularity itself is usually where Julie prefers to be. She thinks nothing of spending weeks at a time curled at the base, a speck of brilliant carnation pink against the enormity of the stone. She has never felt the need to grow large, as so many of her peers have; Julie has contained the magnitude of the Singularity within herself since long before she could even fathom the idea of godhood. She needs no additional space. When she's been there, flowers sprout at the Singularity's feet for months after, crawling upward on vines to embrace the monolith. Those who enjoy heights may sometimes find her lazing in the opening at the top, accompanied by an opalescent snake and some matching butterflies.
It's easy to overhear her in the quiet of the woods, carrying on what seems to be a one-sided conversation with no one. Her accent, finally softened after centuries, is still sweet and lilting as she chats away. The topics are wide and varied, but the tone is always that of someone chatting with their best friend. Fellow gods who interrupt may find themselves suddenly experiencing the other end of the conversation — the Singularity's end, all deafening emotion and wordless sensation. ]