artificial island

#world-building #maw #island #caribe

@Luke I would love some weird art for this. Musik and soundscape!!
There is another one to read, that deals with the same environment... but darker

EVENT APHELION CRASH (maw event)

muzak

Imagine an island... a waste space of plastic refuse. It bobs up and down in along the waves. The sea water in fact, bubbles up between the furthest reaches of its shore, as they are perforated, unsolid.

You gaze closer, at what looks like seaweed, baubles, semi-spherical balloons along long strands of brown-green ribbon. It appears artificial to your scanning gaze, and closer still, a bit rigid both in material and form. Something about it straddles the border of natural and artificial, it is both too ordered and too random, with the limited magnification available to your sensors you define some fractal equation scaling down towards the microscale.

Analogically, it is like a reversed bubbling cauldron, interstices of large bubble shapes and oblong spheroids filled in with smaller ones in a repeating pattern. You divine that they are in fact plastic, or some similar material, containing presumably air in their small pocketed interiors.

You estimate the are in the billions, gazing across the island. Extending down into the water, each air pocket in tandem buoying the mass that recedes just towards the edge of your vision. An artificial island, but not totally unnatural. Protruding through the plastics groundworks are some plants - and stick like structures, they must add rigidity. Their roots stretch down into the sea below, through the artifractal ground medium.

The seem to shiver lightly, and you aren't sure if it's from the currents beneath, or the winds above.

The longer you stand on the short of this spectacular thing... the more you feel it has purpose, in the same way any other natural land does, but this is more active. The perezosial clouds lolloping across the sky provide a parallax background, one that reveals the island is in motion.

You have time, you slow your own processes, moving towards the slow land (but not quite glacial) pace of the island. The shivering of the stick like protrusions becomes a calm, slow, rowing motion. The tree like structures in the distance are in deed rotating, and you wonder if that circular power of the wind is translated to some linear motion, along the vector you travel adjacent to the passage of clouds in the upper atmosphere.

Day wanes, night waxes, the island slows.

Sun rises, heat engenders movement, the island shivers to wakefulness, and continues it's journey, you walk towards it's helm, a short protrusion of the plastics, making a promontory against lapping waves. You stare off ahead of this artificier's world worked ship.

And you see another island in the distance.

How many are these in the sea? Where are they migrating to. Could there really be enough aggregated mass, plastics, machines, fractal constructions to make a livable space?

A landbridge of creation, connecting disparate spaces. The refuse of an old world giving birth to one new.