An alien sense of anticipation grips you, whispering over your skin like a cool breeze, or like electricity. The faint smell of resin, oddly subdued, seems to waft on the cold breeze.
Your eyes blur, glimpsing unreal, strangely perfect walls and angles, crystal shining from places, stone in others.
Your vision blurs, and you feel faintly winded, as if running for a long time. Strange mechanisms of crystal and stone reveal themselves as you slip through strangely perfect corridors.
A sense of triumph comes to you, alien and seemingly all-encompassing, as you touch a fragment of energy, sending it loose, your hands grasping for some brightly-shining thing on a platinum pedestal.
An echoing cry of triumph rings within your ears: "Dzaa! Dzaa! Dzaa!"
A streak of lightning rockets into the sky above Hallifax in persuit of a blurring form.
Coppery energies fly ahead, echoing female laughter resolving itself into a slight form wreathed in brilliant energies.
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "So, you thought to keep even this from Me, Brother?"
Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "You have a problem touching things that are not Yours, Sister."
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "I thought You enjoyed that, Brother! Or don't you remember...?"
Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "Give it back You filthy sneak thief!"
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "I don't believe We shall, My Brother. I think this will prove useful for My purposes."
Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "It is impossible, Mysrai. You have defiled Our Sister's memory enough!"
Echoing laughter rings out from the Thousandfold as She lifts a crystalline trophy high in triumph.
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "Defile? Save, rather!"
Thunder booms as the figure of the Architect flashes into an arc of lightning that streaks toward the figure of Mysrai.
With a shouted word, Mysrai points at Zvoltz, sending a flurry of scarlet energies lancing towards Him as She dodges backwards, sailing across the sky of the First World towards the City of Gaudiguch.
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "Think You to stop Me? If it is impossible, why then do You chase... oh, We see."
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "Is this for Your little Artist, then?"
Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "Jealous that no one will gives you gifts, you foul hag?"
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "I have My Beloved, Brother. Do you have One who will sit silent and biddable in Your spires?"
Coppery winds gather beneath the Resin Child as She turns, streaking into the City of Gaudiguch in a blur of energies.
Before the Eternal Flame.
Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Stretched tautly, a white hammock swings with the breeze. An ebony chest sits here, its lid closed shut. Silken cushions and elegant dark blue poppies create this sumptuous couch. Eight twisting copper arms hold multi-coloured wax candles, creating a twisting, flowing chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. A painting of Scuchidira Tliwx is proudly exhibited on a nearby wall. A handful of pale ashes lies on the ground, slowly blowing away in the wind. There are 10 jade-armoured Wyvern Riders here. The Eternal Flame burns here, a towering inferno of white flame that flashes with a chaotic spray of colour. There are 10 Red Hands of the Illuminati here. An orb of blazing aether shifts and turns continuously as it hovers above a plain granite pedestal. There are 3 great brindle mastiffs here. Mesadari Rhiero, Keeper of the Eternal Flame lounges languidly in the heat of the nexus. There are 2 palm sigils here. A platinum eye sigil is here. With sky blue eyes, a stout wyvern with leather wings prowls around here. With dark grey eyes, a brawny wyvern with skeletal wings prowls around here. A grey, sleek pony with a long tail stands here quietly. A massive, white crow flies here with powerful wings spread. Beguiling Beauty, Koara, the Soulful Vendetta is here. She wields a sleek heartwood mandolin in her left hand. Dreameater Aiyana Vessandril, the Ivory Chimaera is here. She wields a starry viola in her left hand and a glowing powerstone in her right. Illuminus Jaamil, the Scarlet in Ascendance shifts and blurs, his figure cast into uncertainty by the enveloping Presence that lingers large, unseen, and heavy about his form. He wields Gauntlets of Manipulation in his left hand and a golden sunburst shield in his right. Lord High Bard, Valishul Ysav'rai, Riotous Ringmaster is here, shrouded. He wields an elegant violin of joy and sorrow in his left hand and a glowing powerstone in his right. The Great Iari Nightshade, The Archprelate is here. Zvoltz, the Architect crackles with confined energy, His form flickering and fading along the edges. He wields the mighty hammer, Ays Onid in His left hand. Sage of Burning Truths, Ashed Shahrizai, The Enlightened Phoenix is here, surrounded by a ring of flames. He wields a fiery basalt staff in his left hand. Fabulous Flowerchild, Adherent Lir, of the Hidden Temple is here, shrouded. She wields an elegant silver rapier in each hand. Ember Apollas is here. A solstice dragon lies coiled here, blowing puffs of red and green smoke. Sir Drezneth Qatoc, Paragon of Tarshishnavi is here. He wields a serpentine klangaxe of the Fire Lords with both hands. Mysrai, the Resin Child floats here, surrounded by twisting manifestations of half-realised paradigms. She is surrounded by one reflection of Herself.
He is a radiant immortal and is surrounded by a brilliant white lambency. His eyes appear nearly colourless, shining with irises like refracted, broken glass that shift from hue to hue with gentle inquiry. Held with the unmistakable dignity of a leader, His build is both lithe and tall yet hazy at the edges, as if unwilling to retain a single solid shape. Incandescently white, His hair is swept at sharp angles about His pointed visage, framing His angular features and tapered to fall low at the nape of His neck. His countenance remains impassive, maintaining the austere air of an arbiter, though His eyes exude a sense of warmth. His fair skin is suffused with an ever-shifting current of lambent energy, illuminating Him with ethereal radiance. He is wearing a circlet of fulminating lightning.
She is a radiant immortal and has taken the form of an amber-skinned, flat-nosed adolescent of no recognizable species. Slight curves render Her at the full flower of womanhood, with Her sharp bones have been stripped of the fat of a child and the flawless features of some strange caryatid gaze with starry eyes from Her face. Two broad-based spiraling horns of pale gold rise from Her temples, curving outwards to the width of a wagon wheel - the points curve up and back towards Her long, fire-hued hair. Slender serpents of scarlet traced with ivory blossoms are tattooed in matching, winding patterns across Her bare arms. Black starstuff leaks from a wet patch on one side, oozing away in tendrils from Her torso as She moves. She is wearing a crude tunic veined with burnished copper, a tarnished silver ring displaying a single, scarlet poppy and a sanguine circlet of fevered poppy blossoms.
Zvoltz, the Architect hefts His hammer, His figure flicking at the edges.
Mysrai, the Resin Child turns the bracelet in Her hands and lifts it, a flickering manifestation of copper coming to life between Her fingers.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "You wouldn't want to damage this, would You?"
Mysrai smiles softly.
The air implodes around the bracelet, and it disintegrates into nothingness.
Through gritted teeth, Zvoltz, the Architect says, "Give it to Me. You cannot hope to succeed."
In the next moment, the air reforms, and the figure of Mysrai implodes into a conflagration of black stars and strange paradigms. The Flame turns purple, then green, then white, resuming its normal hues in seconds.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "Dzaaaaaaaaaaa."
In the next moment, a broad kantharos rests on the pavement, blinking with eyes and sparkling with crystal.
Lowering Her hands, Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "Get out of My City."
Mysrai narrows Her eyes to thin slits.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "...Brother."
Zvoltz, the Architect says to Mysrai, "You will pay a dear price for this, Mysrai."
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "No dearer than We have already paid."
Mysrai smiles softly.
With a furious gesture, Zvoltz sends arcs of burning lightning at Mysrai as He disappears in a scintillating flash.
Mysrai gestures, Her face impassive, casting aside the lightning bolts with an almost dismissive flick.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "Not here, My Brother. Not ever here."
Mysrai narrows Her eyes at a broad kantharos of brilliant starstuff in an unnerving manner.
A broad kantharos of starstuff and chaotic paint rests here, swirling with mists of scarlet and ivory.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "It will need a stream of scarlet of all kinds."
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "And much of it."
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "Slay as many things as you can, O City, and drop them that they might feed that which lies within."
You say, "I will do so."
You drop the corpse of a shambling zombie.
As the corpse sinks into the kantharos, a flickering of black starstuff and crackling energy coalesces, stirring within the broad bottom of the vessel.
Something stirs in the bottom, a coppery egg becoming evident in the gathering blackness of the stars.
Mysrai, the Resin Child intones, "Soon, Sister. Soon."
An echoing voice murmurs, "Soon, Sister, soon..."
The starstuff within the kantharos seems to coalesce, a slim form wreathed in paint rising from within.
Arcs of icy white energy blaze across the firmament as Zvoltz, the Architect shouts, "Enjoy your thin wisp of reality, Sister. I hope he is fulfilling enough to make up for your failure."
A fulminating fountain of coppery energy rises from the City of Gaudiguch, exploding into the firmament in a flexing of paradigms.
Oshea, Orphic Oddity drifts in, trailing splashes of color in her wake.
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "Think Me impotent, Brother? Watch Your tongue!"
Reality shifts, the sky tinging into whispering veils of changing paradigms as the weirdly-echoing voice of Mysrai intones, "Or is it buried in..."
He is a radiant immortal and is slender and pale, his body seemingly splashed with bright and eclectic paints and dyes. Long hair cascades down his back, ending just below the curve of his buttock and shifts through all colors of the rainbow - one moment green, the next violet, and then to blue. Stray tendrils float slowly, as if through water, about his slight frame. His face, unnaturally smooth and impassive, dances the line between pretty and handsome while mismatched eyes, one green and the other a deep blue, gaze about in both wonder and fear. The colouration about his neck has been disturbed, dimmed by smudges of dark starstuff. Dainty alabaster feet hover inches above the ground, yet drops of colours follow in his wake. He is wearing a sanguine circlet of fevered poppy blossoms and a rainbow sarong of black starstuff.
A burning blast of whiteness fills the heavens as the figure of Zvoltz appears in the sky behind Mysrai, bringing His hammer across in a savage blow to Her ribs before disappearing in a crack of thunder.
Oshea, Orphic Oddity spins about quickly, splatters of paint flying in all directions.
Oshea giggles happily.
Your side aches coldly: pressing your hand to it, you find it comes away wet with starstuff and strands of smoke.
The pain of the wound in your side trebles, and liquid starstuff bleeds in thick streams, coming loose into plumes of smoke and the faint, congealed remnants of black stars.
Agony lances through you as you breathe: you inhale the scent of resins, and know an all-encompassing, burning rage that drives thought from your mind and language from your tongue.
2013/02/06 01:03:37 - Mysrai citizened Oshea.