A Gaping Maw (Solo)

[Aislin]

Summer 63, 512 AV Fingertips brushed up against fabric; nails scratching the seams. Running over ripples as palms curved, fingers furled, clutching at silks of a deep green shade. Creases ran in undulating lines; shadowed areas screeching to be drawn thin by light. Perhaps their cries were answered in that the skin stretched, knobbed bones twisting beneath. Shifting the skirts a little higher. Exposing ankles grown strained from having walked so far; flesh bleached to the shade of fresh milk. Fabric danced around her delicate calves, the curves of various muscle, rippling unpleasantly beneath a section of skin, sparkling with the first beads of sweat. The only hint of perspiration. Flat soled sandals of leather head, crackling by heat of human's mixed blood and sun alike, tore into the earth. Two elegant ribbons, black in shade, serving as simple straps trickled up her lower legs. Climbing like the elderly's spider veins; pulsing beneath withering flesh. Bows long worn away into knots leased ends which danced about the heel. Long enough to be tread upon as the uneven terrain underfoot. Marred by her steps in seeping surface, still soaked through by recent rain, and a touch of morning dew. Not yet supped or suckled by newborn forest babes, or nettling plants which grew in bunches, clustered closer to the ground. Dried to a caked crust by way of the sun's blistering heat. Golden colored rays, which filtered through lush green leaves; singular weight supported by the plethora of trees, a still maze surrounding, reflected off Aislin's skin. Lent a sparkle to her eye, although she was anything but pleased about having to tread through the muck to find even a bit of privacy to practice some of her darker arts. Even so, although the sun was not gracious enough to lend a breath, the subtle breeze was enough to filter air through intricate folds of fabric and string. Cinched tightly at the waist, so as not to allow anyone full use of the lungs which lay beneath. The voider could sense tears cast by skin drizzling down her chest as she wove in and out of the trees, winding her way about the maze in search of a decent place to settle. A place away from the prying eyes of hunters; forest creatures she knew not the names of, whose beady eyes always seemed to follow. Boring holes into her back; a sensation reminiscent of the strength of Rhysol's mark when it had first come to her skin, in that they seemed to burn as brightly. But this she ignored, the animals being below her, and most of man too. Despite her occupation as one of the city's playthings. Perhaps she would begin to pull a few strings. At least, that seemed to be the primary reason for her venture into the Wildlands- she intended to continue her work towards changing the stars. That which displayed her future, her fate. That was why she sought solace in the forest. Begged for her right to be alone. She wished to try her hand once more with a magic so dangerous that she felt the need to keep it from prying eyes, out of the hands of those she knew could never use it to any good ends. Or rather, perhaps it should be said, to achieve any means which would support Rhysol's rule, his supremacy over Ravok and the nearby lands. Sighing deeply at the thought of where one must go to void, her hands dropped a little, allowing the ends of forest green fabric to drag across the floor. To flow over her prints, indentations in the mud. Deep browns seemed to seep into the leaves as it continued to drag. But this too, Aislin ignored as her eyes sought a small clearing in which to rest. To meditate for but a moment before she started chanting and waving her hands, begging that a rift be drawn in this world. A rift that connected her place to that of the void. By her grace, her search did not exceed more than another handful of chimes before a suitable place was discovered. Smiling wickedly as the sun's sparkles leapt into her deep blue eyes, Aislin released her hold. Fingers unfurling so that the last of scrunched silks fell to the floor. They swished about her feet for a few ticks, before ceasing as her eyes continued to dance around the clearing. It was a simple enough space, about seven feet long, and another five wide. An unshapely mess, more globular than ovular, circular, rectangular, or square. Ringed by an endless loop of overgrown evergreens, which seemed to spiral towards each end of the earth. The central point was a simple earthen mound which stretched nearly to each end of the space. Marred only by the occasional sprout of grass. Clumped tufts of a sandy shade, suggesting that the soil was inhospitable here, and that any life would turn to dust. As her hands slid onto her hips, the voider could only smile. This should do, she thought as she cast her gaze momentarily skyward, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

[Aislin]

A deep breath cut short, caught in her bosom behind woven string. It circled her lungs, angrily pounding against pink flesh, causing innards to sting as though she had just been stabbed with sharpened knife. Cuttings, clippings, making it hard to raise arms to either side. They dangled without life above her head, beckoning the sun. Asking its rays brings glistenings to her rosy cheeks. But they never came. Frightened by the bloodied outline of its eclipsed form on bony blade. But still, her restless heart, it was enough. She did not quake as she forced limbs skywards. Tossed her head back defiantly so raven colored hair could cascade down her back; a river lost between bone. She closed her eyes a moment as she swallowed another pained gulp. Drinking in the air as though it were one of the brothel's finest wines. She held it within drooping petals, until they stung with life renewed, for then came the sweet release. Air trickled past pale lips, ringed by purple iris. With freshened senses the voider could think clearly, envision the dark cloud of djed which had settled in the pit of her stomach. To Aislin, the clouds seemed wispy still, as though they had not gathered enough moisture from the pools that lay below to build up enough strength to grow thick. To become something as treacherous as the clouds that had oft loomed overhead, and threatened of impending rain. She pictured then, a fire growing beneath the puddles. The ground having grown slick with moisture. She imagined the grey vapors of its smoke rising towards the clouds. Swirling into an entity of inky obscurity as the fire below flickered. A soft orange glow that crackled and danced. Swaying, as though in a breeze. The voider watched it idly as she continued to fan the flames. Watching it grow in height, in intensity. Vibrancy of colors as reds and yellows twirled into the mix. She could feel it burning a hole in her chest as it made the still lakes bubble. At first they were small, soft. Half circles which quickly lost their form. Popped, into a million little pieces. But with time, they grew. Taking on more of a spherical form. Purple and blue streaks lining the otherwise clear forms, which rose with the first tendrils of moisture. Misty vapors which circled gracefully over the air like wizened condensation over a boiling kettle. The voider waved her fingers, circling them lazily, willing the djed on. The vapors slowly multiplied, taking over the central space. She could feel them wiggling against her innards, tickling the gaping maws. Her body trembled as a sense of euphoria bit at her insides. A soft smile crossed her lips as the haze continued to drift upwards, coupling with the storm cloud that hung overhead. Thickening it, magnifying its strength. The clouds seemed to intensify as they settled into a coal black. Lightning rippling through, tearing the fluff apart. She could hear it thundering, crashing against the remnants of various puddles. It licked at them hungrily, circling them with tongue before recession. Making her skin crawl with tingling sensations akin to rapture. Knowing that everything was ready, she stretched her fingers higher, and with the assistance of her mind, willed her djed to rise. A cat stretching its form after a deep slumber. She could feel it slinking up the length of her chest, into her swan's neck. There it split; dividing down two very different paths. One to the right, the other left. There it trickled down each of her veins, coursing rivers, pulsing unpleasantly beneath paling flesh, until they reached the tips of her fingers. Extremities which burned with anticipation. It was then that Aislin opened her eyes, setting the oceanic orbs on the trees directly ahead. That which fell into her path. Obscured her view of the miles that stretched in any which direction. Her hands fell down, coming to a place where they ran directly in front of her. She held her hands flat, the back of them presented to her, while the palm was turned away. Slowly, her fingers furled, forming delicate crescents, severed through the center five times over. "Away," she whispered as she cast her djed forth. Allowing it to seep through her skin in two identical, invisible spirals. Those which met at the center, and wove themselves together as they continued to crawl away. An angry typhoon which compounded for a time as her brow furrowed with concentration. Hardening the djed until it formed a small orb no larger than a ripened clementine. Dark as the night, but devoid of both the moon and stars. She smiled wickedly as she watched a fly, drawn too close, struggle to flap its wings. She could just make out the sound of it buzzing furiously, incessantly, as it fought against the current. But it was overcome; overwhelmed. Swallowed whole by the insatiable lips of her split in the world, her severance of strings, and gate to the other side. As the magical gateway took the insect in, it seemed to ripple. Undulate like every story she had ever heard said of the sea. For a moment, it seemed to shrink, as though openly displaying that its stomach was filling. But as more sweat continued to trickle down Aislin's brow, and her hands began to flow in soft, counterclockwise circles, before moving to the east and west whenever they came level with her eyes, it seemed to grow again.

[Aislin]

Slowly, this side was being overcome by the other, distant land. It was as though a blanket were being drawn over a silent sleeper, sweeping them into a world of nightmare. Deep blue orbs remained fixated on the sight as it slowly spiraled. Winding around and around as though it were little more than a whirlpool at the center of a tumultuous sea, threatening to swallow entire ships whole. Aislin watched as the void slowly picked up speed. Wispy tendrils trickling out of the sides, like human hairs after the body had been electrified. Other sections billowed angrily, like the upper reaches of a flame threatening to be quelled by recent rain. The central sphere darkening all the more as it kept on growing. Moving from the size of a mere clementine to that of an orange. And as she continued to concentrate, to the size of her head, and then a few inches larger. Her bottom lip, trembling with the strain, began to curl. Matching the crescent of her favorite celestial entity; the moon. She admired it so for it had a dark face, craters eating away at greying skin. It reminded Aislin of herself; the things that could occur should she overgive, and lose control of her magic. That there was no use living, if she didn't do so dangerously. The thoughts made her concentration break. The beads of sweat that had formed to couple, before pausing on the furrows of her brow. The hole in the world wavered. It seemed to fold in on itself a little, as though it were an egg having been left in a pan to fry too long. The edges burning to cinders that crackled as they twisted and turned; sometimes breaking off and fluttering off into the distance. It was enough to worry the voider; enough to make her think of her magic, as opposed to the grace of Leth's charge. Enough to force her to imagine the spiral, to wave her hands in small circles so that the void would once again grow. And it did, after a time, although it put a far larger strain on her than before. Her body starting to tremble with the exhilaration of weakness; she walked off. Her form gliding elegantly over the patches of grass and dirt to where the trees formed a protective ring, a barrier. Her toes pressing against the edge of her shoes, which she trailed along the ground lazily, sloughing up sections of dirt into anthills. Her eyes danced over them without interest, her aching mind of something else. The strange pulsing sensation that she felt coursing through her system. The way the air here seemed different. Thicker, as though her work hung heavily on it. Her very presence; a curse. It reminded her of the times she clutched a man's beating heart, blood running over fingers as she pressed her nails into the pump. Digging into sinew, veins, arteries. Breaking the cavities as though they were little more than chicken bone. Aislin's smile became all the more sick. The air was that of a dying man. Wreaking of the blood of the earth, pulsating with the heat, with the power of the void, or perhaps, merely her own imagination. Neither way did it truly seem to matter to her, as she bent and picked up a stick. One of the ends frayed; split bark. Shards of a sickly white tinted green. The other was a rounded knob, that led back up into the fatter base as it passed several splits in the road. Smaller twigs, which curled into sharp green bristle. "Well you're a gnarled, twisted bastard, aren't you?" Aislin whispered. "Pity, you won't be missed," she added as her fingers curled over bark. Sections bunched tightly together, roughly together. As though it were a candle set to flame, whose wick had melted down so much that it gathered in clumps; in several different places. Her nail slid against the edges, flicking off bits of black. Sections of deep brown as she turned abruptly on her heels, and headed back to the void. Her feet shuffling over the terrain as she stopped in front of it. A vacuum which had shrunk to the size of a clementine again. Sighing, the voider took several steps back, away from the pull of her magic. When she felt as though she were a safe distance away, she raised her arms again. The left one, which held naught a thing, remained largely still. Although, if one were to look closely, they'd notice that Aislin's fingers were rippling, running up and down, while her right hand, which held the stick, flourished it as though it were more than it was. A mighty wand by which her power was amplified. She wound it around and around; as though it was a child's plaything, a simple top. "Expand," she whispered as she began to lose control. Weaving her hypnotic djed into her words, as though a void could be hypnotized. "Expand. Grow. Become more than this. Become more than you are. Grow. Expand." With all the flourishing and all the willing, the void began to mature, taking on a larger shape, more oblong than circular. As though it were an oversized dinner plate piled high with various delicacies, brought in from very different corners of the world. Grow. Grow. Grow. Grow...

[Aislin]

"Become something more my pet. Grow into a larger void. A greater hole in the world. A gateway from this side to the other side," Aislin went on, her voice shaking as much as her hands. Grow, grow, grow, she willed it on with her magic, with the fluctuations of the stick, the occasional flick of the wrist. Finally, when it had grown to be twice of its previously grandest size. The woman paused, allowing her shoulders to slump. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her throat sore. Her breath coming in clipped, ragged heaps. Far too sharply for her taste. But now the task was done, she could rest for a moment. Lazily trickle her djed into the void so as to keep it growing, or at least stable, as she fought to catch her breath. To decrease the speed of her thundering heart, repeatedly crashing into her bony rib cage. It seemed to take an eternity, but for now, she had all time. With sweat pouring down her brow, the Chaon slinked forward, towards the rift she had created between this world and the next. When she was standing no more than two feet away from it, staring it right in the eye, she lifted her right hand. The stick inched forward; knobbed end first. Swallow it whole. Enjoy your food... Aislin kept the substance moving; filling the void with twisted end within another breadth. She could feel its lips parting; sense its cool breath on her skin. An inhalation as its tongue lazily sprang, slithering along a slim length of bark. It licked at the twig hungrily as the woman tried to pull it back, but to no avail. The void was too strong for her to keep the bait at bay. She stood her ground then, and watched, transfixed as the mist it gave off hardened. Ice snapping against wood, grown stiff as stone. It ran lazily up the length of bark towards the girl's fingers. Making her pull them off in fright. She had never seen the void so strong. Acting this way; so greedily. It was enough to make her eyes grow wide as the force of her loss sent her sprawling. Falling from grace onto her backside, so that she was left to merely look up at her work. The stick slowly receding, being swallowed by her magic, which seemed to beat as swiftly as her heart. "What have I done?" Aislin whispered as her hands fell into the dirt. Her nails digging away at the surface, unearthing parched clods which imbedded themselves between nail and finger flesh. Dirtying her good name. Aislin sat in the dirt, trembling as she lost her concentration, and the void began to spiral in the other direction. Slowly losing ground; battle skirmishes for holds on appealing terrain. She watched it shrivel, slowly but surely, back to the size of a clementine. Where it stood transfixed, as though horrified that its own mother would not find a fondness in her heart for it. The dark eye seemed to shed a tear, a wisp of what it once was, which fell to the ground like a leaf. Before splitting into several flaky shards, and disappearing in a puff of smoke. Paling hands drew back, raking over the earth, searching for the folds of the cursed's skirt, beseeching them to protect each from the terrifyingly relentless gaze of the void. "Sorry child," the mage whispered as her lids grew heavy. The back of each sticky with the mounting signs of her exhaustion; seemingly endless perspiration. With an final, bloodcurdling wail which seemed to reverberate through the expansive sea of trees surrounding, the void shuddered before shrinking away into the shadows, where it was swallowed into oblivion. At that very same moment, its mistress sank into earthen bed. She fell, with body splayed across the dirt. Sun shining on her features, causing salty pools to glisten an alluring gold as she endured a wave of madness. Memories streaming past; his face when he left her. The last time their fingers wove together. Lips held against lips; and heat was born between.

[Chevalier]

Aislin

LORE

• Utilizing Voiding Pull
• Increasing Portal Size
• You Can't Hypnotize a Void

EXPERIENCE

Skill	XP Earned
Voiding	4
Hypnotism	1

Storyteller Notes

Secret :

I like the description of a void being it’s own living entity, but I’m certainly not going to pretend I understood everything that happened here. The writing was beautiful, but possibly more than I’m used to reading, and it left me struggling to be sure I was understanding the techniques used or the skills utilized. From your force of Hypnosis effort you've jacked your throat up for seven days due to mild overgiving. It feels a lot like you ate a plate of thumbtacks and speaking above a whisper will be difficult until that time is over.