Gaia

 The vast cosmos roared forth, bringing an innumerable storm brewing abyss throughout the pitch black canvas of reality's dark chasm. The storm of starlight sent photons colliding, material matter clashing until the formation of gaseous giants settled in the aftermath. these giants spun, growing ever colder, the furnace of gravity pulling them together, nestling them through the eons, as if these masses of carbon were meant to shine like diamonds. And yet, many did not shine, and others did-so brighter than others.

Among the dull, terrestrial grey rocks most reached the hollowing out of their potential with their initial spin. They stood inert, cold and hard, becoming part of the great debris of space. Those given the slightest fortune from their lethargic rest were swallowed by their mothering star, and burned to fuel her brighter. In one corner of the expanse, this universe brought to its twain the night and day of a twinkling star, and its lone satelite. So beloved was it's orb, the shined crowned jewel of its orbit, that over billions of years the quiet, newbirthed world would huddle closer in space every rotation, as if reaching for its birther.

The proximity would warm the planet, and bring forth an epoch of radiance. 

Warmed, growing from its core to its shores, spewing an ever complex chain of amino acids and a primordial soup. This planet began to grow. It would start to think, among her icy brothern that laid as distant, deadworlds what made her special? She was a goddess, a great terrain housing the dirt and soil, but she was a lonely goddess. The chemicals of her brine seas began to churn thru the ages, passionate lightening and breath of air breathing them forth into mounds of silt and metallic protoplasm. Gaia would play with this holy biogenic mud, at first metaphorically. Later, when she took shape upon her lands, she'd shift it thru her fingers and shape it literally. It was here that her own oceanic sweat and toil had brought something into shape.

That shape, was little more than a moving dirac sea of bulging puddles. The electrons and molecules had formed silicon chains and given creation to ever more complicated forms, and the first materials to inhabit were primitive sludge. From the moving slime molds and muddy pits, came pits of vermin, nesting a tired ecosystem. At first seeing these beings arise gave Gaia excitement, pushing and touching them with the vapor of waves and winds. Despite her ticklish treatment, the beings were very tired. Sleepy. Colourless. When her maiden voyage to her mother ended summer and it was time to depart, the seasons brought forth snowflakes, the crawling and tiny creatures went so deathly still, their mother could doubt they were even alive at all. 

Gaia would continue shaping the mud, letting different forms arise. These forms were short-lived, grey and vicious. Lacking structure, they stumbled drunk on the methane, leaving drudging gas trails of ammonia, smashing their bodies against rocks and wandering aimlessly. The drudges would continue absorbing until they collapsed into more mud. The goddess was kept occupied, but not made happy with this being. Gaia had not seen the rocks grown with much more than the trepid, timid soil. The oceans of her pussy did not feel the emulsion of pinks and blues to soak in the sun's rays, nor bring oxygen in with an airry kiss.

Soon the drudges were many. Their faceless, guttural groaning covered caverns and pits, often hiding from the sunlight of Gaia's beautiful mother. Earth borne, each slumped forward blindly leaving the same sludge they would one day melt into, in their banal struggle for existence. Strange trees began to grow from Gaia's body, they bore no leaves and had a stony, rough texture as if they were sharp obelisks.

For many countless cycles, this was what Gaia oversaw. It was the physicality in motion she'd ensured. At one point she'd hoped from the mud would arise something radiant, just as she had among the stars. She was never impatient, but the amorphous beings knew not of what she offered them, lack of augury keeping them blind to her deepest bequest. 

Often she took shape and form along side them in the tunnels. While she admired her lunar twin from the ceiling gap, a gift from the mother sun, the others would neglect the vaunted moon, henceforth ignoble to the firmamental and fundamental truths of this world, akin those stilted great rocks elsewhere in space who had given into entropy and stopped spinning long ago. One day, while the drudges were sifting their hands thru the cold mud, learning to shape another in their imagery, something rustled in the dirt. They were blind, but Gaia took notice.

She observed what looked like delicate, silky petals, of a bright blue shade as deep as her ocean. She reached towards it for but a moment. Under the cavern dome, the moonlight shone and it twinkled her mother's light back onto it in a blessed beam. It was the closest object to the radiance,  settling off the moonlight. The prettiest light ever to grace her surface. The petals blossomed, as if winking at her.

The gooey, muddy figures took indifferently to this gift. Knowing not what they do, they began to grope and grab at the mud surrounding it, squeezing the petals of the object incidentally and grinding it into the muck. In their ever-present innermotion to multiple themselves, they let their proteins synthize with its crushed remains and dripped it nearby with a splash. What rose was just another automata, a drudge giving a guttural roar. Gaia was stunned, she sighed and laid back. 

Time would return her to this event. On many other occasions, she'd see these objects, often bright red with yellow stems and blue leaves, or beauteous combinations thereof. The silicone mucks would snuff the color out immediately. Multiplying and multiplying, under the mast of heaven they'd develop new vices. Culture, would be too strong a word - Their kin would roll up and crush dirt to set aflame and inhale, occasionally taking up sticks to patrol and fence their knolls in. With every great decorated form observed, Gaia would see with those colors, would light up her molten heart and remind her of the beautiful mother that shone brilliantly above.

Before long, the creatures would line-up and impale each other with their spears, muddy bodies collapsing. They'd use the mud of their fallen to craft new copies and expand that line-up. The stubborn dreks had long since lost Gaia's favor or interest. All her attention turned towards the growth of a new creation, the spread of blue and red often popping up had crafted vast fields of green where only soil and mud was before. This beautiful new essence did not escape Gaia's notice. One day, while the drudges warred over sticks and mud to claim, something snuck in. They could sense its motions, unusual and complex, even if it's saturated colours escaped them. 

The spherical form, soft in some spots, furred in others, its front bulging and pushing out. This form was sophisticated and aesthethically pleasant, unlike the single bodied grunts that had captured it. Carrying a garden on its back, many lifeforms made up of different petals and vines spread from its bottom into the ground. The drudges gathered in a circle, resembling the closest thing they'd ever remotely come to curiosity, or rather would if it didn't estange them. Fearful of it, the largest huntsmen banged on a stick like gravel. Two surrounded it, and taking sharp sticks, attempted to cut off the vines and petals, shredding its pristine excess and sheering it with rocks. Another came forward, and in a sinister motion took a basket of mud. They threw it over the form, attempting to reshape it with their hands into another one of themselves. Multiplication Multiplication Multiplication. It was all they could motion towards. For but a moment, it looked as if a new copy had been solidified to join the group.


Unlike before however, this one did not yield.

They shone brightly rather, and their vines regrew with their gardens. The entire room filled with petals of every colour on the spectrum, brilliant violents and intense yellows started cutting the pack to ribbons. In no time at all the grunts were reduced to mud, then soaked up by the dirt and green tendrils until all was met with silence. Gaia observed this and from her canopy of heaven, she shone down, touched the stratosphere to the surface and appeared on two legs. The curious, leafy sphere form that had sprung out, also rose up and gave a presence with two legs. Two fully formed female bodies approached one another. The great motherworld, asked what this entity wanted, and where she'd sprung up from. 

The entity told Gaia that she'd sprung up because this world, because Gaia was in need of her. “You are nothing more than a loner seeking attention, like a doll. A very pretty doll. But one neglected, whose attempts to give meaning and motion do not bring forth joy onto your shores.” She said with a smile, one that scarily enough seemed soft. Almost nurturing. Motherly. “These clay sentries move, but they do not speak nor think. They take from you, and give nothing back. I bet you wanna play make up. I can help you, in fact, I will even have you thanking me." She said kindly. Gaia didn't quite understand, but she felt warm and invited. She stepped down and picked up some of the sky-blue flowers, a paintlike sap releasing from them in some petals and deep blush red in others. The new partner of hers started to paint her face with the dirt and paints, adding deep blue around her eyes and reddening her lips until they were clownish, taking strips of yellow and streaking parallel lines under her eyes. Gaia blushed, as this affectionate being played with her and made her feel more intimate than anything she could surmise prior. When they were done painting her face, they told her,

"Take some of my petals."
What for, Gaia asked.
"I'll show you, silly~" 

In no time at all, Gaia was wearing a big beautiful white gown and sleeves, made and held together by the matter that made up this fascinating form's existence. Her new companion added a silky veil over her face from her roots to complete the look. The feminine form of the being in front of her took white paints from her stems and started to slather them, dyeing them into Gaia's skin until they were milky pale.

Where did you come from, Gaia finally asked? The scant trace of mud on their feet eluded them. "When I was a seedling of age and knew little more, some ancient memories used to sing like hymns in my dreams, inherited from another era. An era before paradise. That place comes from some other time, a time that no longer exists. But I do know, I am the delivery of the mother's promise. I was not spawned from the earth like those clunky short-lived figures, I am eternal and I am perfection. You were formed first prior to me, but coming into being now I promise to make you laugh and to love your creations, if you'll let me be the one to spring them forth. And if you wish it.." she brushed her smooth white hands over Gaia, smiling with a faint reverie sounding off in their hearts. "..I can make your world, make you more beautiful too, I can make you the most brilliant and powerful world to exist until you shine like a diamond among the cosmos. If you join my hand, and let me take the reigns. Let my seeds spread, and the gloom of your continents will be painted as many beautiful colours as you want! Like a spinning calliope, if you'll only let your skies be my tent." 

"Be your tent? What, are you offering me exactly?"
Gaia shook, eyes fluttering in a watery haze while she throbbed.
Flora opened her hand, showing but a single flower.
"This. We call it 'Life.'"

Gaia was never before so smitten, the offer was both confounding and tempting and every expression a planet could undergo. The icy caps started to melt a few degrees, and Gaia took their hands, pressing chests and breasts before pushing in and accepting the deal. Their lips met the ringmasters, and the pact was sealed with a kiss. Petals began shooting to every tunnel, knoll and crevice across the continent. As their breasts and bodies pressed, impregnating soft grips of dirt and moisture thousands of miles across, they were met with pockets of light pouring in as specters to the dawn of countless new species to be borne into this world, exchanging saliva and embracing the great opportunities ahead. 

~Tarry not, and beseech thy trial, a knoll among shadowy vales to drop one’s given sinew into hades, given peak select between hollow banes and where stratos melds with the mast of heaven. Oh blessed great children of Flora, mother of life to the springs of the vast, bountiful hope aplenty! Yore a Genesis henceforth the firmamental and unsounded akin! May her shade eclipse the stars as a vegetal vassal’s breadth uproots the land, amidst the harvest that signs the coming of Spring and harrows the granule crop of everlasting subsistence! Harbinger Betwixt her apricity amongst frigid rime or plentiful verdean bloom. Blessed be her, worshiped may her great soaring mandates be towards the Continents avast! And even the meagre premised denizens of the subterranean shall bask in her glory, knowing Flora has given life to the world from whence seeded into!~ 

Fʟᴏʀᴀ Cᴏsᴍᴏʙɪᴏʟᴏɢʏ Dᴏᴄᴛʀɪɴᴇ, Vᴏʟ. 132, Nᴏ. 24 (Jᴜɴ. 14-20, 1697) Iɴsᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ Mᴇᴅɪᴀᴄᴏsᴍᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄ Sᴛᴜᴅɪᴇs.
ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ 'ᴮᶦ⁻ᴸᶦᵗᵉʳᵃˡ' ᵛˢ 'ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳˢᵘᵇʲᵉᶜᵗᶦᵛᵉ' ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵖʳᵉᵗᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʳᵃ ᴳᵉⁿᵉˢᶦˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᶦⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵖʳᶦᵐᵃʳᶦˡʸ ᵖʳᵉᵛᵃˡᵉⁿᵗ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᶦˢᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉˢ. ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡᵃᵖ, ᵈᶦᵛᵉʳᵍᶦⁿᵍ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶦⁿ ᵉᵗʰⁿᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶦⁿᵍᵘᶦˢᵗᶦᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵗʰʳᵒᵐᵒʳᵖʰᶦᶜ ᵖʳᶦⁿᶜᶦᵖˡᵉˢ. ᵂʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᶦᵛᶦⁿᵉ ᵍᵒᵈᵈᵉˢˢ ᶠˡᵒʳᵃ, ʷᵉ ᵃᶠᶠᶦʳᵐ, ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵒʳⁿᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵒˡᵒᵍᶦᶜᵃˡ ᶦⁿˢᵉᵐᶦⁿᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵘⁿᶜᵉʳᵗᵃᶦⁿ ᵐᵉᵗᵃᵖʰʸˢᶦᶜᵃˡ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳˡʸ ʳᵉᵛᶦˢᶦᵒⁿᶦˢᵗ 'ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ' ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵖʳᵉᵗᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᶠˡᵒʳᵃ'ˢ ʰᵒʳᵗᶦᶜᵘˡᵗᵘʳᵃˡ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉˣ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᶦⁿᵍ ᵈᵉᶠᶦⁿᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ "ᴸᶦᶠᵉ" ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᵃˢˢᶦᵍⁿˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵃᵛᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵉʳᵗᶦˡˡᶦᶻᵉᵈ ᵐᵃᵐᵐᵃˡᶦᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵗᶦᵗᵘᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʷⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵈᶦᵛᵉʳˢᶦᵗʸ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶦⁿˢ ᶦⁿ ᵖᵃˢˢᶦᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵈᶦˢᵖᵘᵗᵉ. ᵀʰᵉ ʰᶦˢᵗᵒʳᶦᶜᵃˡ ᵍʳᵒʷᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵍᵃᶦⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ᶦⁿ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉᵐᵖᵒʳᵃʳʸ ˢᵗᵘᵈᶦᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶦˢᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵛᶦᵈᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ᵖʳᶦᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵃᶦⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵐʸᵗʰᵒˡᵒᵍᶦᶜᵃˡ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘˢ, ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒ⁻ˡᶦᶠᵉᶠᵒʳᵐˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢᶦᵐᵖˡᵉʳ ᵖᵒˡʸᵐᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵈᵒᵍᵉⁿᶦᶜ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢᵉˢ ᵈᶦᵈ ᵈᵉᵐᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵃᵐᵖˡᵉ ᶠᵒˢˢᶦˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵖʳᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈˢ. ᴰᵉˢᵖᶦᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᶦⁿᵘᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰ ᶦⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰᶦᶜʰ ᵒᵘʳ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ᶠˡᵒʳᵃ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵉˣᶦˢᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᵉᵛᵒˡᵛᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶦᵉˢ, ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒˡᵉᵐᶦᶜˢ ᵈᵉᶜʳʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʳᵃ ᴳᵉⁿᵉˢᶦˢ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠᵃᶦʳʸ ᵗᵃᶦˡ ᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵏᵉᵖᵗᶦᶜᶦˢᵐ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸˢᶦᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᶦⁿᵍᵉˢ, ᶠᵃᶦˡᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ˢᶜʳᵘᵗᶦⁿʸ ᶦⁿ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵃᵈᵉᵐᶦᶜ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᶦᵉⁿᵗᶦᶠᶦᶜ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ. ᴹᵒˢᵗ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵈᵉᶜʳᶦᵉʳˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵈᵒᵘᵇᵗˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉ⁻ᵉᵈᵘᶜᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵖᵘʳᵖᵒˢᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵉᵗʰᵒᵈˢ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ.