Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180313043210

A river of stars populate the heavens, slowly dancing despite their stillness in the dark expanse. They are numerous and visible over the plateau, muted in the silence of the thermosphere in which the extended pillar of stone origin lingers, melded in the surrounding via a coat of gray.

Its composure is sturdy, but crumbly, its departed parts of itself floating around it like an astral body. A body much tethered to the planet. The surface is filled with rocky landscapes, devoid of anything but the solid material. No patch of grass, flowers or any sign of life is present. The light should be able to shine a path among these lifeless desolations, but the planet is shifted to the opposite of the sun, the plateau yielding to the astral body it clings to. It stands on the dark side of the planet, much like the dark side of the moon, therefor, covering the very surface in complete darkness. Darkness a creature of the night would have difficulty seeing within...

The place itself is old, seeing the crumbled rocks, easily crackable with pressure. Yet the whole thing withstands, a defiance of time aboard its elevated positioning, tethered on the border of space.

The gap.

Despite its closeness to the cosmos, a patch of air still lingers around. Trapped. Rare. Ancient. The soil as well, witness to countless moons. Stepping on this ground is stepping in the past, one of the very last relics of the great past.

A solitary being is present on the vast nothingness of The Gap. Its corporal form is hindered by the darkness that rules the land, yet he offers no struggle to the place. His mere presence melds with the primevial air of the land, atop a chair. Normally, his eyes, covered in the black, would be fixated on the stars that dance before him.

And yet, his attention is locked on the whims of the planet itself, gazing down. Down to a particular spot itself. His eyes shape ambient flames dressed in an elegant purple, his hands crossed on his backside. His feeling is tethered to the feeling of this ancient plateau.

"A current tides down here. An old current. Kena?"