Closed [House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Clyde and Aislyn both happen across the house of broken mirrors and meet within.

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Considered one of the most mysterious cities in Mizahar, Alvadas is called The City of Illusions. It is the home of Ionu and the notorious Inverted. This city sits on one of the main crossroads through The Region of Kalea.

[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Clyde Sullins on July 8th, 2016, 10:25 pm

Image

46 Summer 516


Clyde had yet to learn to properly navigate the streets of Alvadas.

He did however feel he was beginning to reach a level of understanding for its sense of humor. If any city after all could be said to be alive and have a sense of things and feelings, he had come to see that would be Alvadas.

Or perhaps, he supposed, whoever was in control of the illusions, if anyone was and they hadn't just evolved to sentience and self designation, but if anyone did control them they had a sense of irony and humor.

As he walked down yet another street through the city a sign caught his eyes. Do enter, with the word not in between crossed out. Taking out his Chaon logic and applying it to the city, he pondered what such a sign could mean.

The most literal meaning was a welcome, a invitation.

Or, perhaps it meant quite the opposite, that it was warning one off but in a roundabout way by saying to enter but only sort of...

It seemed to him that it would either be a very good idea to enter the building... Or a very bad one.

Which of the two he had no idea, but he also didn't see any doors barred or people stopping him. It seemed to be a somewhat open place. Clyde pondered for a few more moments before finally committing and entering the building.

As soon as he entered his assumption was that his second possibility was the more likely of the two. Namely, when the door shut of its own accord behind him, slamming, he turned to see that in its place was a mirror. Except not a mirror, at least not in the sense of it reflecting him.

As he turned around, he was faced with himself. Except an image of himself holding his sides in laughter, holding his sides and pointing at himself as he silently laughed.

If this wasn't odd enough a few moments later laughter began to emit from the mirror, except not his own laughter.

Taking a few further paces into the house, he peered about, seeing many different mirrors. He noticed another him walking along the halls, holding a staff similar to the one he was holding(Cha), except that this one was a single contiguous piece of bone. It was as if someone had found a giant bone, and carved out a staff from that giant bit of something.

As he stared at the staff it suddenly began to mold and flex like a snake, beginning to twine and twist around the not him in the mirror. Then it dove into the not him's flesh, melding and merging. A few moments later the staff exited, poking its head so to speak out of the middle of the not him's back, only to submerge into the flesh once more.

Clyde passed onward, before the bone staff had a chance to exit from anywhere else.

As he passed another mirror he saw another not him, though this one was more different.

This not him was shorter, with a squatter frame and a thicker brow line. He had brown eyes, heavier eyelids and cheeks, though similar hair and ears.

He didn't hold a staff however, but a long wooden club.

Watching this not him he paused, and noticed after a few moments that he could hear breathing. Breathing in sync with the not him in the mirror. As if it was alive and watching him as he watched it.

Oddly enough the urge to do magic struck him. He couldn't see why not, after all he was alone... Though a deeper subconscious bit of him reminded him now perhaps wasn't the best time. But seeing the not him's in the mirrors gave him the urge to morph. What would happen if he morphed, or changed to look the same as the not him's in the mirrors?

Would they change also?

Holding Cha in the crook of his arm, Clyde began to feel his face with both hands.

As he did he focused on a single image, that of him not as a person but as a golem. A clay golem with clay flesh and wood bones underneath. A golem animated with motion, but easily shaped and moved.

This body, he reminded himself, was but one expression. It was but a vessel he lived in. If it changed he was still himself.

As he pushed and pulled at his face, trying to make it more like the not him in the mirror, he chanted under his breath a simple incantation.

“I am me, not my face. I am me, not my body. My body is but a clay golem, ready to be molded. I am me, not my face...”

Chanting this over and over, he focused on the emptiness of his body, the open and endless possibilities, and willed his body to take on another of those possibilities.

He started with the brow line, pushing and molding at his eyebrow and willing them to thicken and modify.

At first, and for many chimes, nothing happened. But as he chanted his mantra, he felt his flesh where his fingers touched slowly grow malleable. He pushed and pulled, moving the eyebrows into a thicker shape more similar to that of the not him in the mirror. The not him seemed to just stare back, doing nothing.

Once he had it in the right shape, he willed his djed to flow to the area, imagined the clay hardening like that warmed in a oven, hardening and solidifying.

Next he worked on the eyes. Closing his eyelids, he massaged his eyes through his eyelids, continuing on with his mantra as he willed his eyes to shift, to change color. He pictured the not him before him, the one with the brown eyes, and imagined in his head the golem body of him shifting and taking on the other's appearance. Then he focused on the eyes, willing those in particular to change.

After chanting for awhile he felt the liquid nature take on over his eyes, and at that moment pushed and pulled and willed the change of color to take place. Once he felt the change was done he willed it to harden, to stay, as he had with his eyebrows.

Opening his eyes, he looked at the mirror, to see the not him.

It was then that the fact that he had no way of knowing if he'd done the change correctly, as the mirrors didn't work like mirrors. He could have as easily gotten it right as gotten it wrong.

In truth he'd gotten it half right, his eyes changing from their normal blue to a dirty blueish brown.
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
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Clyde Sullins
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[House of Broken Mirrors] A Muddled Mirror [Aislyn]

Postby Aislyn Leavold on July 14th, 2016, 12:41 am

Image
46th of Summer, 516 AV

In complete honesty, Aislyn was tired. The past fortnight had been a long one, with plenty of happenings to be had. A boarder in her house, whispers on the streets, and insomnia to boot. Her home wasn’t sacred, her city wasn’t sacred, and her mind didn’t seem to be either. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to be, and most of all, nowhere to sleep. With her illusions the way they were, sleep was a dangerous thing. She’d taken to either sleeping during the day while the small abode was empty, or sleeping outside, or simply not sleeping at all.
Needless to say, the latter option had made for some rough nights.

Even so, she hadn’t stopped walking. Despite exhaustion weighing down on her, she still spent a good amount of her time outside. Even if it was just pacing in her home, or exploring the city she knew to have nothing left to explore. Outside the city, sometimes, or below it. The underground was a whole other world, after all, and rather interesting as well. Plenty of stray, forgotten souls, and plenty of stories. Tales, truths, and whispers. Or lies. There were plenty of those, too. The most popular rumor at the moment, of course, appeared to be that the undead had returned. A tale told by people afraid, people angry, and people simply telling tales.

Sometimes, it was easy to believe them.

It didn’t help that there seemed to be evidence behind such wild claims. The feeling of being watched was an easy one to spot, especially after the tensions of the season putting what seemed like all of Alvadas on edge. It was also a feeling that Aislyn could quite simply see herself feeling at the moment. There were plenty of eyes on the street. Plenty of witnesses and suspects and various other personalities, but none were particularly eye catching. Two taller men with arms in shades of blue and gravelly voices discussing the probability of happening across a tavern at that point in the day, a spritely old woman whistling a tune as she passed by. A group of children, carelessly sprinting through the streets, their singsong voices travelling effortlessly through the streets.
Plenty of eyes she could look at, but none looking at her.

Regardless, the feeling didn’t pass. Eventually, she was increasing her pace. A brisker walk, for the sake of refraining from running. Running was foolish; drawing attention where it wasn’t necessary because of a danger that might not exist at all. But quickly she moved nonetheless. It wasn’t until her hair started prickling and her palms felt hot did the feeling became not being watched, but being chased.
Still, she did not run. Instead, she chose to end the chase before it truly began, turning into the first building she came across that didn’t appear to be a home. With her eyes on her palms, she stepped inside. A tavern, she was hoping for. Or a shop.

Unfortunately, such a building was not what she got.

It was only once Aislyn was through the threshold did she look up from her hands to realize there was a sign on the door. Do not enter. In such a moment of realization, the woman turned to catch the door, and was just as quickly evaded. Instead of a door, she was met with a reflection. Of herself. In the House. Again.
Uttering a soft series of swears under her breath, Aislyn ran a hand through her hair, catching on the choppy tips. It had been a year and a half since she had last entered the hell of broken mirrors, but what that meant was she already knew the House’s tricks. The illusions, the cheap tricks, the dirty plays meant to catch a victim off-guard.

Sighing, Aislyn didn’t even bother to look in the mirrors as she began to move further into the situation she had gotten herself into. With a roll of the dice, a moment of blind chance, she had stepped into the one building in Alvadas it was very hard to step out of. Though, depending on the building, that could apply to several locations. But the House was one of the worst, certainly. Lacking whimsicality or any sort of trick, it didn’t have a riddle, or a puzzle, or a solution. It was just a House of laughter at the victim, rather than with them. And of course, such locations were no fun at all.

Several chimes of silence passed before the noise began to settle in. Crackling that turned into laughter that turned into shouts and screams that turned into chants. Chants of pure nothingness. Chants of gibberish that turned into unrecognizable words that turned into sentences, which slowly began to make sense. But slowly. Very, infuriatingly, slowly, until eventually meaning returned.

I am me, not my face. I am me, not my body.

Nothing particularly spectacular, though it didn’t seem like anything the House would say. And more than that, it wasn’t directionless, either. The voice had substance, qualities, a direction, and meaning. Not like the House at all.

Bringing her gaze upwards, Aislyn found herself coming to an immediate stop. Of course it hadn’t seemed like the House speaking the words, because the mirrors weren’t speaking at all. A man, sitting in front of a mirror. Not an illusion at all. Though that wasn’t to say illusions weren’t a part of the equation. But in this case, it wasn’t the mirrors distorting the image. The man’s face, instead, was the one changing, shifting like malleable material. Immediately, the answer seemed clear. An illusionist, surely. Just like her, though such a meeting in such a place was rather unfortunate. She had no wish to speak to anyone, no matter the religious affiliation, but on top of such a feeling of isolation, something was… Off.
Unlike every other illusionist Aislyn had ever met, there was no familiarity. No feeling emanating from the figure that spoke Ionu.
There was absolutely no proof the man was an illusionist at all.

Watching for what must have been several more chimes, Aislyn became sure her eyes weren’t fooling her. The powers of an illusionist, without the mark of Ionu. Impossible. Did that make the man as a whole an illusion, as well? But why? The illusions of the House seemed unable to exist outside of their mirrors, and the illusions of Alvadas itself never reached this far. So the man was real, and somehow able to manipulate reality without the need of the powers of Ionu. That left very few possibilities. Ionu themself, or something… else. But Ionu’s presence was familiar to Aislyn as well, and this certainly wasn’t it. So something else, then.

Waiting for the enigma of a figure to move again, the woman stood silently in place, making no attempt to hide but giving no reason to be seen either. She had questions she wanted answers to, but at the moment, no words she could think of seemed to fit the place. There was nothing to say to address what she had seen, so she said nothing at all.

For the moment, all she did was watch.
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[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Clyde Sullins on July 14th, 2016, 1:53 am

Image

Perhaps if Clyde hadn't been so absorbed in his work, he would have noticed the girl wandering up. With his other magics he was more skilled. With Reimancy and Auristics he did them second hand, the simpler uses barely even taking up his notice. Voiding he was getting pretty skilled at, so it was less of an issue.

But at the magics he was new to, such as morphing, or ones he was just bad at, like shielding, it took all of his concentration to manage to use the magic. When it worked at all, which it didn't always.

Regardless of the reason, Clyde was totally focused on his work, on his attempt at magic, and so didn't notice the non-illusion person approaching.

When he finally got to a stopping point, stopped molding his djed and instead only sent a steady stream of power to the affected regions to sustain the morphings, did he pause to notice his surroundings.

As his focus expanded beyond his immediate task, Clyde felt eyes watching him. Whether this was a more mundane sense, or involved some passive awareness of someone nearby from his Auristics, Clyde couldn't be sure, but he believed suddenly that someone was watching him.

Glancing around, Clyde turned, only seeing other mirrors. Then as he turned he noticed something not within a mirror, a person. A girl.

He couldn't quite make out any details about them, instinctively reaching out with his Aura sight towards the girl, grasping at her aura and getting a feel for its touch.

Looking at the girl with his mundane eyes, Clyde puzzled over the sight.

“Ah, are you one of the mirror people too, only one that escaped its mirror?”

“You know, mirror person, I think that sign on the door was a bit confusing. Did you want me to enter or not? Or wait... Can mirror people talk? Can mirror people out of their mirrors talk? Also how did you get out of your mirror? Can you teach me in case I ever get caught in one?”

As he spoke, the changes to his eyebrows slowly faded away, his face returning back to normal due to his distraction from keeping the changes in place. By the time he was done talking they would have faded half way back to the way they had been before he shifted them. However the change to his eye color stayed for the moment.
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
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Clyde Sullins
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[House of Broken Mirrors] A Muddled Mirror [Aislyn]

Postby Aislyn Leavold on July 27th, 2016, 10:19 pm

Image
This was puzzling.
Illusionism, but without the mark. Or with the mark, but she couldn’t see? Maybe he had more marks, so much so that she wasn’t able to recognize it. No, but when she had just one, she could still sense those blessed higher than she. She had seen two marks, even three on one distinct occasion. The priest at the temple; Aislyn met him rarely, but the times they did meet was with a recognition Aislyn felt so potently it was almost like a slice of her deity, infused into a singular being.
Of course, the feeling was unfortunately mutual. But the day had yet to come when another marked individual had actually outright asked about the gnosis, and certainly not displayed the ability to see through her illusions. Though, to Aislyn’s dismay, displayed was the key word. She did her best to avoid such individuals for that very reason, and she certainly couldn’t see herself through their eyes. It was entirely possible her illusions were not an infallible as she believed, though such a thought was not something particularly useful in the current circumstance. There were other things to focus on.

Like, for example, the fact that she was being compared to that of the illusions from the House’s mirrors themselves. An interesting concept. After all, she had thought just the same as him. A mirror person wouldn’t ask a real person if they were the reflection, right? A mirror person would surely know what was going on from the beginning. Or perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps they were just as blind as the people less illusionary as themselves. After all, they seemed made from the thoughts of those they mirrored; maybe they couldn’t escape that plane of thinking? A blank slate, only truly living when an unfortunate soul stepped over the threshold into the House. What did mirrors reflect when there was nothing to reflect at all?

As the man continued to speak, she saw again- there- the fluidity of his features. Surely an illusion. The question was, whose illusion. Not his, certainly, unless the man was Ionu themselves. A mirror man was another option, but no, that didn’t seem right either. And she certainly wasn’t a mirror person, either. Unless, of course, everything she’d ever known had been the true illusion, and the only reality was the House. Are you one of the mirror people too?
That would be a turn.

”I could ask the same question of you.”

The reflections of the House escaping the mirrors they were entrapped in. What a strange thought. Not an entirely unthinkable one, either. What if the reflections were to escape, were to somehow be released from the whole maze of a building itself? Would they be destroyed, unable to exist outside their natural realm, or would they join in with the other illusions on the streets? Certainly it was possible for the House of Broken Mirrors to change- anything could change, really- it was just a matter of how. Maybe this was a change. An illusion projected from a mirror, rather than trapped in one. After all, she had no idea of just how real this man was, either. Her last encounter in the House hadn’t ended horribly, of course, but the danger could change just as much as the illusions.. Previously, such danger had been the reflections. Perhaps this time the danger were the people the reflections mirrored.

”The mirrors speak just fine,” It was a wonder the man- if he were not to be an illusion- hadn’t encountered it already. ”and in my experience, entirely expect those that pass to enter.”

Shifting in place, Aislyn watched as the man’s features finished melting- for lack of a better word- and returned to what she assumed to be ‘normal’. Or perhaps not entirely normal; after all, if an appearance could be changed, who was to say what she saw had not been changed as well? She could just be looking at a stranger sort of ‘normal’, rather than a regular state of being.

”Might I ask, though,” A pause. How did she word this? ”-what is it that you were doing? With the mirror?”

OOCI swear, my regular posting speed isn’t this slow. Quite a lot of things decided to suddenly happen at once, and Miz was pushed back a bit. Apologies.
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Aislyn Leavold
Just an illusion.
 
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[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Clyde Sullins on July 30th, 2016, 3:49 pm

Image

Clyde frowned at her question, her statement of a fact that she could question if he was a mirror person.

“True. I suppose we each would suppose one way or the other that we ourselves were a true person, and be left to ponder which the other was. I'm unsure how you'd tell one way or the other with another.”

“I think I am real though, I think with my thoughts, so perhaps I am a person. But then if I thought I wasn't a person but a mirror would I say otherwise to you?”

Turning for a moment he inspected one of the mirrors he had been looking in before. The reflection had changed once more, now into a short man with blued skin, but clearly not an Isur as it missed the telltale arm and certain other features.

He held a staff also, a brown one of normal wood carved into the shape of an eel. A snake? A worm? Clyde wasn't sure what it was, whether a land or aquatic creature, but it was clearly stylized into some shape.

However when the woman stated that the mirrors spoke, he simply frowned at her and then the mirror in turn.

“Really... I wonder what it means then that they've said nothing to me... They've been as silent as a grave when I look at them. Odd if what you say is true...”

While he was lost in thought his eyebrows started to lose their morphing again, fading slowly in shape until a chime or so later they looked just as his traditionally did, unchanged from their norm.

His eye color still stayed the muddy water colored, a bluish brown, but was the only changed thing left on him.

When she questioned what he'd been doing when she'd entered, Clyde simply sent her a puzzled look, unsure what she meant.

“What do you mean? What does a mirror do? It reflects. I was simply reflecting. Isn't that normal for mirrors, to reflect things? Although these ones don't seem happy to reflect just one thing, nor just things that are present. A bit odd I suppose, but its still reflecting even if the thing being reflected isn't currently present.”

Focusing his djed for a moment, Clyde willed it down into Cha and out of her flesh, sending a tendril of his aura focus outward to the woman.

Within his aura sight the vision of the woman bloomed as the tendril enveloped her, a soft caress of djed touching the edges of the woman's aura and bringing it into his sight.

OOC: Is Aislyn currently hiding her form with an illusion, or is she in her natural appearance?
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
User avatar
Clyde Sullins
Player
 
Posts: 2267
Words: 2343955
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2011, 1:14 am
Location: Ravok
Race: Human
Character sheet
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Journal
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Medals: 5
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

[House of Broken Mirrors] A Muddled Mirror [Aislyn]

Postby Aislyn Leavold on August 4th, 2016, 2:18 pm

Image
This was certainly a peculiar situation. It was entirely possible they were both real, and it was entirely possible they were both fake. Ultimately, it was up to the beholder to decide which one was the illusion. Illusions often held themselves to no boundaries, after all. The situation had the potential to go any which way, positively or negatively. Neutrally. Erratically. The real question was whether or not Aislyn actually had any say in how such a situation would turn out.

One thing the man said, however, stood out. There was no real way to tell what was an illusion and what was not. No foolproof solution, or trick of the locals. There was no way to prove or disprove the idea of everything being a fallacy; after all, with no definite reference of reality, who was to say what was fake? Everything could just be a mass hallucination, a feeling of time passing when one day a person could just wake from a dream they didn’t know they were dreaming.

”I think I am real too, then.”

No way to tell an illusion from reality. Perhaps that wasn’t true. She had one method, at least, as unreliable as it was. Rubbing at her eyes as casually as she could, Aislyn reached for the feeling once again, this time in true attempt rather than just practice. It was still difficult to reach, practice or not. It was an attempt at seeing a new colour, an attempt at feeling for something that could not be felt. A feeling of being unable to see, yet seeing so much at the same time. It was still so foreign to her, in a way of stretching a muscle that had never been used. And, like all unstretched muscles, it was rather uncomfortable. But she reached it.

The man was green. Not a green with blue or a green with yellow, but a pure green. A pure, watery, green, the same watercolour texture as Aislyn had seen before, except tenfold more. Like water had been dumped graciously onto the paints, rather than simply dabbed. But unlike actual watercolours, the water didn’t drown out the colour; the same rich green still pertinent beneath the watery surface.
The most frustrating thing about it was that the illusionist still had no idea what such a texture was supposed to mean. Or the colour, really. Or anything about it. Yet she still somehow felt more informed than before, despite the nothingness she had grasped. Informed, and somewhat exhausted. A worthy sacrifice. Or at the minimum, good practice.
If the information were as useless as it seemed, it wouldn’t have the costs it did. The ache in the back of her mind, through her ears and eyes, proved that such a taxation had a price; and that price meant it had worth, too.

”The reflection…” How did she phrase this without the word ‘illusion’? ”It was as if instead of the mirror changing your appearance, you did,” Her eyes wandered to the mirror behind the man, of which reflected nothing but the room, his reflection missing altogether. ”You were reflecting, you said. Does that make you the mirror, or the reflection?”

OOCAislyn would be actively using the illusion ‘Maya’.
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Aislyn Leavold
Just an illusion.
 
Posts: 570
Words: 647829
Joined roleplay: June 8th, 2014, 9:23 pm
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Race: Mixed blood
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[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Clyde Sullins on August 6th, 2016, 1:46 am

Image

Clyde simply smiled and shook his head as the woman quite plainly stated she thought she was real. What else after all could she be expected to say? If she wasn't really, Clyde knew, she wouldn't admit it. In fact, he thought to himself, if not real she might not even be aware she wasn't real.

As Clyde smiled and shook his head however, he sensed a prickling along his aura. He had already been looking at the woman's aura, though only at a base level such as which let him examine her and the things he'd normally directly sense but sense them through his auristics. Touch, smell, sight, even taste could be examined upon a person's aura without too much trouble.

Clyde was focused on sight, when he felt another layer of the aura, and felt the warm heat of djed acting outward from the girl. Also as he'd already been examining her aura he felt and saw as the djed moved outward and as it latched onto his own aura and surrounded it.

His mind quickly compared the action to previous instances of meeting magic users, and tried to puzzle through what magic was at work.

The first ones to come to mind were Auristics and Hypnotism. But... In his experience hypnotism was invasive, and tended to inject deeper into the djed of the aura, while this more so surrounded it. Also since there wasn't a visible effect caused by her magic it narrowed down quite a few, making him lean towards her being an aurist. A rude one at that, what with inspecting his aura without permission.

He was also clued off a bit perhaps by the look in the girls eye, as she stared at Clyde. It was a look he'd seen in many other lesser aurists, and recalled from his own start as a lowly initiate into Auristics. Staring endlessly at something, barely blinking, and keeping ones focus on something so as to allow you the mage to see the aura. Better Aurists were a bit more discrete, and didn't need to stare so much, but the signs of a new Aurist was there for those with the knowledge to notice it.

All of the information combined convinced Clyde that she was likely an Aurist as he'd first thought with his gut.

Acting on his instinct and focusing on his own aura, he pulled at his djed and willed a flow of it through Cha, and then bounced it back at himself along his own aura.

He quickly focused on the aura as a physical thing, and mentally worked on scuplting and shaping it. Taking off bits, adding others, and changing others all together.

He had altered his aura in the same way another time when he had met a squire who was a aurist back in Syliras.

It was the first thing that came to his mind, and so he simply once more went with the same story and the same illusioned aura.

First he stripped away the djed remnants across his aura, in his case almost exclusively from his own magic use. It would only be telling to someone who knew to look for it, and someone who knew what it meant if they did look for it, but he still felt safer getting rid of such signs.

Next he stripped away the outer layer of his sight, along with the touch, and replaced it with the touch and sight of zith fur, or something similar to it in his mind. He replaced the touch and sight of cloth with that of a fuzzing of black hair across his body. He didn't do the wings, as those were too difficult and he didn't doubt he'd get them wrong.

He hoped the single change would in and of itself be offputing enough, if not distracting, and perhaps draw enough focus so that the lack of other smaller details would be missed. But even then he supposed to himself, only someone who knew Zith in detail would not such things.

As he finished manipulating his aura his physical self finished fading back to normal, his eyes finally back to their normal color after having faded from what he'd morphed it to. His focus on editing and altering his aura had been to much for him to also focus on such a lesser skill and keeping the shifting intact.

He'd limited most of his changes to the lower level and easier to notice things, such as the physical senses of his aura, which would be the most likely things to be noticed by a cursory examination of an aura. Senses were after all the simplest thing to examine through an aura.

He smiled once more, looking at the girl as she asked her questions, taking a moment to ponder them before answering. Considering he was somewhat certain the girl was a mage, he decided to answer in a somewhat esoteric fashion that might make a bit more sense to a mage, or in particular a morpher.

“What is our body but an illusion? Isn't our physical self the lie? We die, we are reborn into new bodies. If we can cast off forms so easily, and take on new ones, wouldn't they have to be illusions, with our souls being our true self?”

“Why then would it be so odd for this physical illusion I wear to change? It is but a suit, one I wear. But one can put on new pairs of pants, one isn't doomed to forever wear the same pants for all of their time.”

“We are all both mirror and reflection, and the thing being looked upon by the mirror. We are the thing, and we look upon the world and reflect it through our actions if nothing else, while also being the source.”

“We all change. We are not constant. We grow, we gain, we lose, we shrink. Life is about changing our reflection. Haven't you ever wanted to change your reflection? To be the source, and not the mirror? To take charge and not let the lie of our bodies illusion hold us?”
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
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Clyde Sullins
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[House of Broken Mirrors] A Muddled Mirror [Aislyn]

Postby Aislyn Leavold on August 27th, 2016, 11:24 pm

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The way the man spoke was peculiar. Not in the words themselves- the pieces of the puzzle- but the whole the words created. Despite the man’s obvious lack of Alvad accent, he spoke in a way that was distinctly, absolutely, Alvadas. After all, Alvads had a very distinctive way of speaking. When one grew up surrounded by the impossibilities that made up the city of illusions, one quickly grew to adapt to the most confusing way the city- and those that inhabited it- chose to speak. But outsiders didn’t often take to it particularly well, and certainly didn’t pick up on it quickly. Yet the more the man spoke, the more reminiscent he became of a true Alvad.

”I suppose you are correct,” For the moment, it seemed like a fair plan of action to simply go with whatever the man said. After all, if he were an illusion, it didn’t really matter, did it? ”But few people in this world have the ability to cast illusions in the way you speak of.”

Even with the possibility of an illusion at hand, it seemed best to tread lightly. The woman was getting a bad feeling from this, though that could easily be attributed to the fact that she was, once again, standing within the hell of mirrors. After all, nothing ever particularly good came from a place with do not enter written above the entryway. And no good ever came of strangers met inside of such a place, either.
The more the stranger spoke, the more all signs seemed to point towards illusions. Accent or not, the man seemed familiar with Ionu’s art, and his tone certainly spoke of illusionism, in some way. To cast off physical forms in favour of something of one’s own design, to craft new beings from nothing but yourself. If she were to answer honestly, the only odd thing about him was the lack of mark, of which Aislyn couldn’t exactly ask about without it being incredibly obvious how she knew to ask.

”It is odd in the sense that you don’t seem to be one borne of Alvadas, yet you speak of illusions like you know them personally,” Her gaze wandered as she spoke, falling upon yet another empty mirror. ”Though that doesn’t quite answer my question.”

Despite the aching her previous use had caused, Aislyn was tempted to look past physicality towards the man once again. Surely she must have been missing something, what harm could come from double-checking? Other than the dull pain, which could easily be put up with, there was nothing stopping her. Except common sense, of course, but common sense never did hold up very well in a city like Alvadas.
Auristics was no easier to access than it had been the previous time, and the headache pang was no less irritating, but it was certainly more comfortable once activated than previously. Though the sight that was revealed was certainly less comforting than it had been before. No more green, just a very, very deep black. And the watery texture was gone, too, leaving a rather eerie emptiness in the darkness that had been left behind.

What, in Ionu’s name...?

From a mixture of momentary surprise and exhaustion, Aislyn dropped the sight, resigning herself to simply looking with regular eyesight to figure out whatever it was that was going on. It had changed. How had it changed? The man spoke of shedding forms, was that what that was? Could auras be changed as easy as clothing? What did black mean, in opposed to green? She was getting no closer to answers, yet more questions kept popping up.

His rhetoric was familiar, in a strangely sporadic kind of way. Every few words he would say something that the woman could have sworn she had heard before, yet in the next moment the familiarity was gone. Life is about changing our reflection.
”But in order to change your reflection, wouldn’t you have the need to change yourself?”

”And from that need, would an ability not come?” Ionu had come to her, in time of need. But the more he spoke, the more the man seemed… perplexing. One moment it had to be Ionu, the next it couldn’t be. Proven and disproven, all in the same sentence. It seemed best not to encourage the twisted non-answering way the man had of responding to her questions, so Aislyn kept her speech short. If she couldn’t get past even the first question regarding the stranger, she would never get any closer to discovering just what was going on than had she failed to meet the man at all. ”And some sort of ability, you most certainly have.”

”So might I ask again, what that ability may be?”
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Aislyn Leavold
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[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Clyde Sullins on August 28th, 2016, 3:08 am

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While Clyde hadn't been in Alvadas long, he had quickly taken to their logic. From a frame of mind point of view the randomness and illogical of illusions wasn't too far from Chaon logic and understanding Rhysol. It was in a different way as Rhysol's Chaos wasn't the same as the intent of Ionu, but similar perhaps to a degree in outcome and seeming. And so Clyde had quickly adapted to the thought process of illusions inherent to Alvadas.

That and perhaps it was in part simply due to his escapist nature in speaking, in speaking a lot without saying anything while sounding almost profound. In truth sometimes he did say things that were quite profound, at least if you had the full information. Clyde however didn't usually explain himself or the things he knew, and so often others were left unable to understand his statements due to some missing bit of info Clyde knew but didn't divulge.

While Clyde spoke as much as if not more than anyone else in a conversation, he actually said quite little.

When she said that while he had a point it wasn't within many people's reach, Clyde simply smiled, playing off her comment.

“You speak of differences of degrees, which aren't differences at all. A pound of bricks isn't so different than eighty pounds of bricks, besides one weighing more. Both are made of the same stuff. A spark of flame atop a candle is fire the same as a blazing bonfire. Its a question of scale, but in the end they are the same and not so far beyond most's ability as you might think.”

“Why then should small changes or big changes or changes of nature or changes of face be any different? You just have to look at it from the right direction, and see the right relevance of scale and term. What is an illusion? It is reality, for its own purposes. The method doesn't matter, only the outcome. If flint and steel can't start a fire, then rub some sticks together. Both make a fire. Is the fire any different once it gets going if its made by one method or the other? Will it cook your food any less, keep you warm any less, or burn you any less if its made one way over the other?”

At her comment of understanding Alvadas while not being a native, Clyde smiled once more.

“Here or there, up or down, we are both here now. Why does it matter where we've been or where we will go, so long as we are both here now? Illusions are but a thing, one of many. Once you understand one of its faces, see its kinship to its brethren, then all the siblings make sense and have their little family resemblances.”

“Though don't we both know illusions? We've both seen them, both lived them. So why then should I not understand them as you do just because I was born on one face and not another?”

When more of the woman's focus moved towards Clyde, the sound of the hum of the djed once more tasted upon his skin. He knew she'd once more looked at him with Auristics. He knew what she'd be seeing, assuming all had worked properly.

After looking upon his aura and perhaps growing a bit confused, she once more relegated herself to trying to pick apart his words and to ask him a series of questions to lead him into saying something, into divulging something.

Clyde however was a skilled interrogator, and knew how to ask questions and answer them, only saying what he wanted to when he wanted to. Teasing out information while offering little nibbles.

“Ability? We all have abilities, now don't we. You over their, looking with your eyes, and watching with not your eyes. You try to watch a sound, not understanding why you learn nothing. But watching a sound is like catching a stream with your fingers, it doesn't work.”

“You say I have abilities, but so do I say you have abilities. Are they talent, or learned, or innate, or given? Perhaps all of those and none and one and several.”

From her words and questions it seemed the woman was finally getting to her point, what she really wanted to ask. Clyde felt like he was on the cusp of understanding what he didn't understand, the bit of knowledge that was confounding her for some reason but which was the reason she was interested in him. If he understood what she understood, he reasoned, he'd know what she knew and she wouldn't know what he knew.

“Perhaps if you showed me yours, I'd show you mine. Or we can continue to beat around the bush until its trampled well underfoot.”
Clydes Stuff

I am actually in RL a super intelligent hamster from Rhode Island, with a 7 year plan to take over the world.

Update 6/2/18- 1:10AM EST: His 7 year plan a success, and several weeks ahead of schedule, Clyde leaves to oversee the world he has taken over.

No new threads after end of Spring 518-Will still be checking for PM's occasionally, but focusing on a new character.

Graders note: :
Please be aware Clyde is a master Magecrafter. He therefore should not be gaining full xp(or possibly shouldn't gain any at all) for simple tasks related to this magic, such as low level MC items, particularly for repetitions of creations he has done before. Feel free to contact me if unsure of a instance of his magic use compared to his skill level.
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Clyde Sullins
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[House of Broken Mirrors ]A Muddled Mirror[Aislyn]

Postby Chameleon on March 23rd, 2017, 8:31 pm

Your Grades Are Here...


 
Clyde Sullin
Skills...
  • Intimidation: 1XP
  • Logic: 1XP
  • Morphing: 1XP
  • Philosophy: 3XP
  • Socialisation: 4XP
Lores...
  • Aislyn: An Aurist
  • Auristics: Mimicking a Zith’s Aura
  • House of Broken Mirrors: Do Not Enter
  • House of Broken Mirrors: Strange Reflections
  • Morphing: Body is Made From Clay
Other...
Clyde's great - I love how he views Aislyn seeing his aura as rude when he instantly did the same. Your descriptions of morphing were very nice as well - keep it up and maybe you'll reach master with that too!

 
Aislyn Leavold
Skills...
  • Auristics: 2XP
  • Logic: 1XP
  • Philosophy: 3XP
  • Rhetoric: 1XP
  • Socialisation: 3XP
Lores...
  • Aislyn: Can Recognise Ionu’s Marks
  • Clyde: An Illusionist But Not
  • Clyde: Not Born in Alvadas
  • Clyde’s Aura: Pure Green
  • House of Broken Mirrors: Hard to Get Out
Other...
I enjoyed your description of Clyde's aura, and her trying to figure out about Clyde's morphing. I'm glad to see you included overgiving - and your posts are very fun to read!


Comments...
A nice thread to read - shame it was cut off short. Hopefully, I've included everything you've wanted - but feel free to send me a PM if you had any problems or questions with the grade.
Don't forget to mark the request as completed!



Hope You Enjoy Them!
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Chameleon
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