FA+
Shop
A Story of Moonbriar
4 years ago
A Story of Moonbriar
Between here and the hereafter, where the boundary between our familiar world and the world of the Fae, lies the community of Moonbriar. Moored to reality, obscured by the peculiar, and inhabited by the sleepwalkers who dream their way around the dusky sidewalks.
The neighborhood itself is alive, always moving, always reinventing itself. As you walk through the streets, the world behind you falls out of existence, only to render in front of you with every step you take. You could walk past Scrubjay Street four times with each appearance being on a different side of the street, and yet it is the same Scrubjay Street. Meanwhile, you might never find yourself gazing upon Poplar Lane. It's fruitless to search for a street or a fixture. You will always find yourself waking up at the park. The winding sidewalks will take you where you need to go so long as you put your trust in them.
Invariably bathed in the fading light of sunset, with skies almost never free of a gloomy blanket of heavy gray clouds, Moonbriar is like something out of a dream. You will almost never remember how to arrive there, or how to go back. Beyond your range of vision, almost nothing exists. You can see it in the way that the Iron wrought lamp posts suddenly seem to realize they are supposed to be lamp posts as you approach them, quickly painting themselves with vivid detail, where before they were simply the vague idea of a lamp post.
If you ask any being walking the lanes of Moonbriar, they'd tell you it's always been there. Nobody can ever recall any construction occurring, and yet new homes are always proudly raising their heads over the grassy hills. If you ask the Home Owners Association, they would tell you to stop asking so many questions. If you asked the Neighborhood Watch, they would simply Leer silently at you, and you would feel deep unease. However, if you were to ask the dog spirit who patrols the streets with paws as big as draft horse hooves, she would tell you that this is a place out of time. She would tell you it is before the beginning and after the end. A spirits dream. A place where you will see a blend of the modern comforts and the cobbles and hearths of a time long before. She would tell you not to walk alone at night, and never answer what talks from the mirror. It tells only seductive lies. And she would disappear before you could catch the questions chasing each other around your suddenly fog filled brian. The history here is alive, and its cold breath rolls over you.
Between the parks and pools, the nature trails that attempt to tame the wild, endless woods that press the edges of the neighborhood, the corner store and corner signs, you would think this is just like any other neighborhood. Sure, phrases lime "Limb Lost and Found", or "Cover your mirrors after dark" make you feel uneasy, but the character of the homes is undeniable. As if each face is a reflection of the being who lives inside. You always find what you're looking for, even if you don't necessarily know that you were looking for it. You may start an after supper walk and find yourself at a little bakery, or invited in for tea. You may even find things you never thought you'd find in any normal neighborhood. But of course, Moonbriar has never been any normal neighborhood.
You could see a sweet old woman walking down the way, only she has just a few too many eyes. You may see werewolves and ghosts admiring an overgrown garden. A haven for the abnormal, you could watch friendly goblins offering you coin for treasures you were silly enough to throw out. The people here are strange, and yet kind. The Neighborhood Watch insists there are almost no monster attacks nowadays, and that any alleged attacks are definitely consensual. Even the native wildlife is nothing like you could ever see in the haunts of man. They look familiar enough, and then you get too close and see shapes that raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You only know if you don't bother them, they probably won't bother you. Even if you hear them padding through your home at night.
Maybe the mirrors aren't dangerous from where you come from, or the closets don't hide more than just metaphorical skeletons, but Moonbriar is a place unlike any other. A place ferociously, unashamedly accepting no matter who or what you are. Like a place you walk in your warmest dreams or your darkest nightmares. So long as you impersonate somebody who cannot be attacked by monsters, you may be spared such a fate. Moonbriar will always love you as you love her.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/946.....979/?ref=share
Between here and the hereafter, where the boundary between our familiar world and the world of the Fae, lies the community of Moonbriar. Moored to reality, obscured by the peculiar, and inhabited by the sleepwalkers who dream their way around the dusky sidewalks.
The neighborhood itself is alive, always moving, always reinventing itself. As you walk through the streets, the world behind you falls out of existence, only to render in front of you with every step you take. You could walk past Scrubjay Street four times with each appearance being on a different side of the street, and yet it is the same Scrubjay Street. Meanwhile, you might never find yourself gazing upon Poplar Lane. It's fruitless to search for a street or a fixture. You will always find yourself waking up at the park. The winding sidewalks will take you where you need to go so long as you put your trust in them.
Invariably bathed in the fading light of sunset, with skies almost never free of a gloomy blanket of heavy gray clouds, Moonbriar is like something out of a dream. You will almost never remember how to arrive there, or how to go back. Beyond your range of vision, almost nothing exists. You can see it in the way that the Iron wrought lamp posts suddenly seem to realize they are supposed to be lamp posts as you approach them, quickly painting themselves with vivid detail, where before they were simply the vague idea of a lamp post.
If you ask any being walking the lanes of Moonbriar, they'd tell you it's always been there. Nobody can ever recall any construction occurring, and yet new homes are always proudly raising their heads over the grassy hills. If you ask the Home Owners Association, they would tell you to stop asking so many questions. If you asked the Neighborhood Watch, they would simply Leer silently at you, and you would feel deep unease. However, if you were to ask the dog spirit who patrols the streets with paws as big as draft horse hooves, she would tell you that this is a place out of time. She would tell you it is before the beginning and after the end. A spirits dream. A place where you will see a blend of the modern comforts and the cobbles and hearths of a time long before. She would tell you not to walk alone at night, and never answer what talks from the mirror. It tells only seductive lies. And she would disappear before you could catch the questions chasing each other around your suddenly fog filled brian. The history here is alive, and its cold breath rolls over you.
Between the parks and pools, the nature trails that attempt to tame the wild, endless woods that press the edges of the neighborhood, the corner store and corner signs, you would think this is just like any other neighborhood. Sure, phrases lime "Limb Lost and Found", or "Cover your mirrors after dark" make you feel uneasy, but the character of the homes is undeniable. As if each face is a reflection of the being who lives inside. You always find what you're looking for, even if you don't necessarily know that you were looking for it. You may start an after supper walk and find yourself at a little bakery, or invited in for tea. You may even find things you never thought you'd find in any normal neighborhood. But of course, Moonbriar has never been any normal neighborhood.
You could see a sweet old woman walking down the way, only she has just a few too many eyes. You may see werewolves and ghosts admiring an overgrown garden. A haven for the abnormal, you could watch friendly goblins offering you coin for treasures you were silly enough to throw out. The people here are strange, and yet kind. The Neighborhood Watch insists there are almost no monster attacks nowadays, and that any alleged attacks are definitely consensual. Even the native wildlife is nothing like you could ever see in the haunts of man. They look familiar enough, and then you get too close and see shapes that raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You only know if you don't bother them, they probably won't bother you. Even if you hear them padding through your home at night.
Maybe the mirrors aren't dangerous from where you come from, or the closets don't hide more than just metaphorical skeletons, but Moonbriar is a place unlike any other. A place ferociously, unashamedly accepting no matter who or what you are. Like a place you walk in your warmest dreams or your darkest nightmares. So long as you impersonate somebody who cannot be attacked by monsters, you may be spared such a fate. Moonbriar will always love you as you love her.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/946.....979/?ref=share
