As the wrought iron gates drew shut behind you, the first sense lit aflame was tingled by the heady aroma of fresh flowers in bloom.
"Where am I?" You questioned, incapable of recalling how you'd gotten there.
Replied only by the sweet chirp of songbirds and the lullaby of a gentle breeze, you were cradled into security. The inkling to explore stirred within, and you spurred forth, entirely by resolve unknown.
The first row of blossoms marking your trail was comprised of tulips. They cast their buds upward, with unfurled petals, cupping the remains of that morning's dew.
Peering curiously into one's bright yellow basin, you caught a glimpse of Ancients Forgotten, left by a wanderer named Dustin. Someone had been here before you, it seemed.
A peer over your shoulder led you to the vision of a carving in the bark of a willow tree: An Empty Present: I am waiting for one. Had Acezon carved it? You postured. But then--who was Acezon?
"Look within your Dreamland," the wind whispered.
Not one to ignore the demands of the unknown, you were led under an ivy-strewen trellis arch and were set on your way.
A circle formed by beige cobble underfoot lay beyond an orchard of peaches and rosebushes. A lonely stone bench sat derelict in the center, looking worn with wear.
Whom had been here? You wondered. How many have sat here before me? Certainly not Tindy. That person had never been very fond of doing things without being familiar with them.
Had Drengeroth? He had always raised suppositions about death among units. And that begged the question: Was this heaven?
You recalled kingo'mountain telling you about the idea of multiple worlds. Perhaps you had not died? Perhaps you had simply dropped into a world other than what you'd always perceived? Or perhaps you were simply caught in a new frame of mind, like that flash player Dahrkael had created?
After a wistful moment spent on the bench, you noticed a small pathway cutting through a swatch of hanging bougainvillea. It was time to move on.
Echoes stirred forth as your heels clicked on marble floor. You had come to a gallery hall, walled off on either side by white marble columns and impassable thickets of flower-covered trees.
Hanging from the columns, you gazed up at what seemed to be works in progress. Sprites, staring out at nothing, calling for critique. One was signed "Caergrim", and the other, "Blazekid". They reminded you fondly of -Mekii-, and her workshop of windowskins.
With every few steps, the atmosphere seemed to fade into one song after another. First were the melodies of Holk, steeped in ambiance. Eventually, as the end of the gallery approached, the song seemed to morph into something by prodigymaestro.
Before the columns fed into a white marble building, you noticed a note tacked to a wall. It seemed to be a plot of sorts by QuantumMindGames, written out in impressive calligraphy. At the end of the parchment lay scrawled a request for feedback. But you didn't have time for that. The sounds of other souls harked to you from within the mysterious building.
Inside, you were astonished! Hundreds of people stood within. Your journey had apparently been shared by many.
Ushered along by a flowery-patterned carpet weaving through the halls, you overheard many conversations.
Someone named Glitchfinder was talking about their browser, soliciting opinions.
Perihelion was chatting with others about her favorite music.
Petros was anticipating the new Star Trek movie, playing in the building's cinema.
Mundane was posing an introspective in the Symposium cloister, questioning the existence of human energies.
No one seemed to take a terrible interest in you, and you were hit with a pang of loneliness among all these new faces. You weren't certain about how you knew their names, and you knew even less about what this place was, or why you were here. And how long would you be here?
Distracted, you bumped into a wall, and fell backward. A tiny yelp ushered forth, and you gazed upward to see a notice, chiseled on bronze, nailed to the wall.
It was a list, which seemed to span upward forever. The ceiling was barely visible, obscured by the bend in your perception from the floor. Eyes searching downward, you saw the names:
ShadowMainZERO
Hybrida
-Mekii-
VexedEnigma
rookie91
Calibre
kingo'mountain
... And then, one of your questions was answered: You were here for good.
Your name was chiseled at the bottom.
[flash=1,1]http://pixelcocktail.com/hosted_items/shit/stuff/thisweek5-9-09/prettymusic.swf[/flash]
its a little haunting