Perfect Blue — Self-Destruction. > ..Open your eyes
By: Isobelle Padilla
Tags: Interactive Story, Deforestation, Rpg, Paradise, Story

Your eyes fly open to the overhang of a weeping willow, head propped against the log, surrounded in glowing moss and bioluminescent mushroom. The vague taste of metal in your mouth. You’ve been here before. This place is your sanctuary. Slowly, you stand, allowing the canopy of leaves to dance past your face; and you smile warmly to yourself as they split across your face and you walk to the middle of the clearing.

This is your Nirvana.

The dim flickering of the lamp post gives your ghostly form a twinge of blue, making it appear as if you were nothing more than part of the background. Passing leagues of bustling people, all tinted a dark grey as if they were silhouettes, you carry yourself with such regal strides it was almost as if you were royalty. The monarch of this serene area. The benevolent sovereign, tasked with the responsibility to keep your Nirvana unscathed.

You approach the pond.

The crowd of gray-faces repel from you, getting no more than a couple inches from your form before bouncing off of the imperceptible forcefield that shrouded over you, and your skin glowed evermore as you phased through the tamagaki fencing that encased the pond.

Sacred. The feeling of confidentiality rippled over you as you approached the pebble outskirts of the gently ebbing water. You’ve never been here before. Yet you feel a sense of familiarity; the warmness of a family member or close friend. You dare to spare a glance into the pond, gazing into the reflection it cast back at you.

Your face. Your form. Your avatar. Your face gleamed a brilliant, soft blue; imperceivable. You were dressed in a flowing fabric that blew in the perpetual wind, your arms lined with a mirage of drooping bluebell, dill and hibiscus’. The length of your neck disappeared underneath the nest of stems and vines that flowed from your hair, which was transparent and streamlined like a mist.

You did not recognise the figure that stared back at you.

And yet you knew it was you.

> Become defiled

The sound of bricks shattering and hitting the soft mesh of the grass, as well as the deafening hum of machinery mixed with the harsh outcries of a crowd. The fence stood no chance against the large apparatus’, caving in immediately and giving entrance to the ambiguous swarm of entities.

The gray-faces, now a sea of red and yellow; blindingly vibrant.

You barely had time to gather your bearings before of the Reds struck you in the head with a brick, the blunt-force causing your form to collapse to the ground and plunge face-first into the crystalline water. More of the crowd flooded in, in tow; and began the grisly assault of beating your misted body into the ground with bricks, fists and other heavy machinery.

Your vision, tinted and blurred red from both the blood dripping down your face and flowing into the water, began to dim. The sickening ripping of your cloak as the treatment continued, for seemingly hours. You listen as the crowd began to tear your pond apart, brick by brick, grass strand by grass strand, dirt inch by dirt inch.

Your mind, clouded with confusion and anger, struggled to keep your battered body animated. It seemingly focused all its energy into fuelling your sluggish thoughts, and even that was growing more and more difficult by the minute.

There is about 11000 different species of grass.