Under the Surface (Solo)

[Aislin]

Summer 15, 512 AV Arms folded over chest; a wavering barrier cast in flesh and bone. Fine hairs which clung to skin grown white with cold; softened bristles which released their own torrent of tears. Misery unquenchable in the gathering gloom; misty tendrils dancing across sky darkened by night's blanket, several hours too soon. Smoky mists swirled through the air, guided by the hands of the winds they had displaced. Ethereal currents fled the scene to less tumultuous locations, only to return once the coast had been cleared. Naturally, however, a plethora had been swept up by the tides; drawn into the billowing clouds of thickening coal greys which hung directly overhead. Invisible tongue circling; taking a taste of all that was offered, so as to whet its palate. Unsatisfied, it would oft spit everything right back out, unless its course was enough to garner the expansion of bronze belt, metallic facet clicking incessantly against bits and brace before inevitable wedge down another rabbit hole. With pressure rising swiftly as time ticked away, leather chords binding central locations creaked. Boiled black grown sodden with excitement crackled; releasing rippling creases along the length. Fissures in earthen bed as adornment was split; ripped from its charge, expunging all of its contents which rained down upon a watchful world. Flaxen robes sunk into skin; rippling softly with the first of weather's chill. Cotton folds twirled around ankle, as waterfalls spilled into muddied puddles laying in wait. Rivers running over craven earth, sunken in on itself with the weight born of endless precipitation. Darker cloak hung by simple clasp about the neck dragged against her skin, reddening the tones. Hinting at the texture of blood that pulsed beneath in streams of various vibrancies, particularly in hues of blues and greens. Spider's webs of spun silk which cradled the skin delicately, caressing her features all the way to the underside of knobbed chin. Clefts in the rock from which cascaded the ends of trails, having trickled down the length of flawless face. A supple curve marred only by two subtle dips into icy lake, and a soft rise which broke towards the bend. Framed by an endless sea of trees whose leaves were the color of a raven's feather. As frayed and broken as those sent adrift beneath the autumnal sun. Flakes of ash waiting to fall against surreptitious splendor; all that was banished to an eternity against earthen bed. Silent grave, stilled by the hands of vexed gods. Petals the shade of lighter pink tulips trembled. The soft round of the lower grating against drawn teeth, a pearly white which shimmered against beads of saliva and rain alike. Sepals flourished as grating lines drawn over the ornament lost their shades. Color seeping into rosy cheeks, where vibrance was supped by dying cells. Childlike games of hopscotch wearing thin as unearthly crowns left their mark; indentations on velvet beds, spewing unsightly pus. Green moisture of the naive as unknowledgeable whore wove through the same stretch of forest for the third time over. Unbeknownst to her as undulating folds ran over water. Gathered pools waiting to sink more than foot. Tarnishing more than boiled leather boots strapped tightly against slender thigh. You just had to pick the worst day to come out here to practice, didn't you? Aislin scolded herself as waterlogged strands splayed against her features. Clung to her lips, causing her to spit them out with a spew of moisture as she kept her icy eyes fixated on whatever lay ahead. But at least this way you shall not be bothered. Only a fool would have heart enough to follow you here. Even so, Aislin still required a spacious enough area to practice without increasing the risk of bodily injury, or even, self voiding. Shaking her head to ward away the cool air as she sighed; she couldn't help but feel all the more the fool for refusing to relent. For insisting that her feet keep on carrying her to an unseen destination so that she may have a bit of privacy. So she could practice her magic without the city's men finding out about it. Or so she thought, thinking any which entity incapable of knowing all, despite the power they may wield at the tip of their fingers. The throngs of people whose strings they may pull. Sighing once more, she began to wonder if there were even a way out, should she want one. For surely, the ravosala men who ferried her from one side of the lake to the other would have turned in with the first sign of inclement weather looming on the horizon.

[Aislin]

With fallen features, Aislin tread through the forest. Leather soles creaking as they sloshed through puddles, twisting by ankles as they sank into the mud. Turning prints into gnarled masses, uneven as the bark of a tree for the brief instant they remained devoid of precipitation. With water pouring readily they filled to the brim; soon sending tendrils spiraling down the sides. They trailed after her form, soon becoming as lost behind the throngs of evergreens as she. Surely this can't last much longer, Aislin thought as she cast a wary glance skyward, before returning her gaze to the terrain which loped out ahead. It has to stop soon, doesn't it? she added, when the clouds run out of their holdings. She smiled uneasily at the thought, unsure of how much each cloud held, she couldn't be absolutely certain how long it would be before it stopped raining. Which meant, her already sodden attire could only grow to cling to trembling flesh all the more; further chilling her to her very core, ivory colored bone. Grumbling inwardly, the voider kept herself moving, knowing full well that to stop would only invite the cold to settle in at a swifter pace than before. For several chimes, the woman kept on moving, refusing to relent to the gentle nip in the air. The bite that kept on gnawing on her joints. The dull ache which seeped into her bones as muscles began to protest. She was beginning to wonder if she should seek shelter from the storm, building a fire in the shade of a tree. But even in their spires she doubt any illumination could be cast before the shadow of inclement weather had passed. As teeth chattered, crowned ramparts battering against each other in futile attempt to chip away at enemy defenses, Aislin forced herself to wear on. Until right foot sank into water past her ankles. Startled, she drew it back, holding it in the air as a kitten may hold their paw after patting something of interest. Intrigued, she tilted her head to the side a moment, sending her hair cascading down right shoulder as she tentatively put her foot back down on the ground beside its brother. You're a bit deeper than the others, she thought as she stepped forward again, and this time, allowed her foot to plunge into the water. When the cool liquid lapped up against the rim of her boot she pulled back again. Surprised by the hole's depth. Alright, not a bit, a lot deeper. Her head rolled on her shoulders, rocking lazily back into place. Wonder why that is. As the thought left wrinkled mind, Aislin took a step back. Only one real way to find out, isn't there? she thought as she pushed her hands out. Palms held flat with fingers together. Knuckled backs directed towards lithe form, as life line's presented its face to the stagnant pool. Cotton sleeves pinched together, dripping down from behind taut skin; offering her dirtied boots several more crystal beads with which to wash. As she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, the folds swayed. Rocking gently with the subtle flourish of her hands; a flick of the wrist. Peach petals furled, clamping shut. Breaking for the night, so as to provide their keeper with ample rest. A curtain when pulled back, led into another realm. An obstruction of reality; or perhaps a simple diversion, which led one to wander away from it for a short time. For now, with her eyes closed, Aislin felt as though she could sense the djed she possessed all the more. That which rested in the pit of her stomach within the confines of inky cauldron. She could sense a fire being lit underneath as she willed her magic to her. Feel a heat rising in her lower abdomen as it released a soft orange glow. Light which flickered as a candle would, after wick had been melted away. Molten pools of wax lying beneath the ashen central stalk, and by the base, long fattened with glutinous acquisition. Cannibalism by the inanimate. Liquid magic bubbled; the iron of the cauldron's make searing hot. Scalding its innards as fire rising, coerced it to bake. Tendrils of deep grey smoke billowing from beneath framed the sides, the upper rim, as flame began to glow a soft blue. It were as though her entrails fed it; fanned the flame, willing it to grow as hot as the Defiled Blade's forge. Misty spheres rose from the depths alongside thinly veiled vapors. Muddied tones, cast into the orbs glimmered softly as they threatened to escaped pulled lid. But pressure seemed to push them back, forcing many to burst. Sudden expulsions of smoothed magical shards falling back into the cauldron to be engulfed by larger mixture. Enflamed by mounting blaze. The cycle seemed to continue endlessly for a time as magic built up its strength, and then vapors rose, one by one, into upper body previously kept sealed behind closed doors. Key twisted inside lock, silver sigil melting; metallic shimmer pouring down where it sizzled against iron rounds. Lungs ached as the magic overcame, filling each vital organ, overwhelming them with a surplus of power which slowly filtered out. Trickling through veins; undulating rivers of blue and green which pulsed softly beneath paling skin. Flesh rippled as her entire body trembled, and head came back on its shoulders. Hair cascading down towards lower back as fingers began to wiggle with life renewed. Finally, as power seeped into the tips of her fingers, eyes burst open. Aislin's head rocked on her shoulders, until it came into a more natural position. Her nail beds tingled as they began to release the first of gaseous djed. Invisible as it flowed silently away, before pausing to gather with its brethren. Forming a darkened cloud of the woman's own make. At first, the void seemed to lack form but as her hands began to circle, it grew to be oblong. Central sky of night devoid of stars and moon swirled, moving in counterclockwise fashion as limbs continued to dance. Urging the void on; begging it mature and grow. Suggesting it begin to feed; taking from its surroundings so as to attempt to quench its insatiable stomach. Aislin could only watch as it ingested the occasional droplet of rain, its mouth wavering about the edges each time something succumbed, only to bounce right back into place a few ticks later as it continued to grow, soon coming to be larger than the girl's head. Satisfied with the rate at which her creation was developing, the voider could only watch and wait as the first torrent of water was skimmed off the surface of the murky puddle which lay below. Smirk crossing her features as nothingness given life enjoyed a long, satisfying drink.

[Aislin]

For a long time, the voider stood silently, winding her hands as though they belonged to a clock, and were all that could stand for the demarkation of time. The cogs ground together, spinning as did the darkened swirls which marred the void. They clicked incessantly, every tick of the chime, every chime of the bell as she waited for the puddle to dwindle away into oblivion. But that time never came, the water remaining level at the center of the large hole in the ground. Dismayed, Aislin tilted her head to the side and studied her charge. The void which hung lazily in place, as though suspended in the air by invisible strings. Suppose it's raining too hard for the void to catch everything? To drain it completely? Aislin sighed. There had to be another way. She eyed everything a moment, enjoying the endless cycle for a time. The void drinking as the sky continued to shed tears. Plopping against the surface; sending the muck into a series of rapid vibrations, which rocked against the side of soaked earth. Pebbles and mud being drawn into the depths. Her fingers wavered, growing tired from their constant strain. Perhaps... Aislin's brow furrowed as both her sweat and tears continued to trickle down her pale visage. Her concentration doubled as she began to rock her hands back and forth. Bringing one up while the other came down and then returned to its former position. Slowly, the rift in the world began to tilt. Rotating on its axis about forty-five degrees before coming to a grinding halt. At this point, Aislin's heart was hammering in her chest, she could feel it pounding against her bony rib cage. Exhausted, she bit into her bottom lip. Just a little more, she told herself as she kept up with the motions, willing the void to continue tilting so that more of the rain would run into it as it made its way through the line of trees. So that it would serve as a sort of barrier between the sky and the area she was trying to suction off. Rid of the world. Bring from this into the other side. The void rocked only a little bit more before it came to a halt, refusing to go any farther. With it, Aislin's shoulders fell as her body slackened. That should be enough, she thought as her chest proceeded to rise and fall rather rapidly, and the water continued to filter out, revealing something buried below. With eyes widening and lips parting to reveal her surprise, the voider could only stare as heart skipped a beat. What is that? Aislin wondered as she clapped her hands together, forcing the hole in the world to turn in on itself. Disintegrating in an instant. As soon as it had gone, the voider ran forward, and plummeted down the rabbit hole. There she landed with an inaudible thud atop a body. Bloated; blue. Eyes so wide they were popping out of the man's sockets. A deep violet over which hung a milky sheet. If only the skin could be peeled away, she could truly see more than there appeared. Simple robes, vestments of a monk clinging to his skin. The fabric folding, flowing, billowing out about his form despite. A woven rope for a belt, whose frayed ends had been knotted to form tassels. A strange symbol tattooed onto the side of the neck. A chorded design in blank ink that the woman had never seen before. She bent her knees to kneel beside the corpse. Tilted her head to the side as she ran her finger over the glyph; trying to understand. Trying to get a better look. "Who were you?" Aislin whispered as her eyes danced over the man's form. Rain buffeting her back, and chilling her to the bone as mud caked to her clothes. Water seeped through the pores in her skin. Aislin's finger trailed away from the mark on the man's neck. Wrinkled skin drawing over to hide it from prying eyes. They danced down his chest. Patting down every area where there may have been a pocket to see if there was anything on him to explain who he was; to explain his death. But there was nothing. Disheartened, her hands made their way back up, trying desperately to find anything she may had missed. But again, there seemed to be nothing, until she made her way to tightly clenched fists. She unwound his fingers, slowly, for they didn't want to split at the seams. Reveal the meat inside fattened sausages. But she found nothing in the left; and yet, there was a handkerchief in the right. Soiled by dark disposition, buried beneath earthen mound, it seemed as though nothing would be discerned. Even so, she unfolded it in scrawling, embroidered, blood red script she found three simple letters: ANT. "What's ANT?" Aislin asked herself as she tossed the handkerchief on the man's chest and stared up at the sky. "And why is he dead?" she wondered as she turned away, stepped out of the hole and took up her perch on the outer rim. She gazed at the body a moment, and thinking that it required a 'proper' burial, began releasing more of her djed into the air. For a moment it hung limply before gathering into a sphere which darkened into another void, about the size of a clementine. A void which grew to the size of a melon with the urging of her mind. The whorl of her hands. Another few breadths and it was half her size. There, she thought as she pushed her hands down, guiding the void into the hole, where it instantly tore away at the earth. Ripping rock from its grave, as the body was swept up, and in an instant lost to the other side. Dilated pupils glared at the disheveled terrain as Aislin took a step back. It was simply too imperfect for words. The voider's hands clapped together. A moment of finality as the breach was closed once more, and she turned her back on the place. "I don't suppose anyone other than that who murdered you will ever know," Aislin whispered.

[Verilian]

Aislin +2 Voiding You Question My Logic? : Nothing much I could give other than voiding. If you ahve any questions, feel free to ask. Lores: Tilting the Void, What is ANT? Notes: And the mystery begins... *dramatic music* Notice As per the request of the Founders, threads cannot be graded unless your CS is up to date. This means you need to add threads to your thread list when you make new threads, keep your skills up to date, ledger, living expenses, ect. If you aren't up to date, you'll get a PM from me before i grade your thread. If you are up to date, disregard this notice.