Closed [The Unnamye] A Crisis of Dreams (Madeira)

Illusions and hallucinations.

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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.

[The Unnayme] A Crisis of Dreams (Madeira)

Postby Aislyn Leavold on March 11th, 2017, 11:12 pm

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A Crisis of Dreams
52nd of Fall, 516 AV
Eighteenth Bell


It didn’t take long for the flames at the edges of Aislyn’s vision to become much more. Burning slips of paper, sticking to the walls and floor. No one else seemed to notice it but her and yet soon the whole building would soon go up in flames. Still, they continued chatting on, distantly muttering something about a Miss Craven and an outside, whatever that was. Oh, but Craven, she knew that name. Then another voice came out, the voice of the woman, the one that had drugged her. Madeira. Madeira Craven. Blinking at the scene in front of her, the illusionist watched the woman get up and at once she knew Aislyn had to follow her.

Feverishly, Aislyn held onto two things as she tried to escape the burning tomb. The first was her backpack, the canteen abandoned in the corner of the room. The second was Thief, the invisibility flickering out of existence as the layers of illusion were peeled back and forgotten. For a moment, Aislyn attempted to stand, before failing, falling back to her knees as her hand crushed a burning slip of paper under her palm. She recoiled immediately, fearful of the burn. It stuck to her palm, taunting her. It was a tarot card- the thirteenth trump; death.

Pushing herself to her feet, Aislyn drunkenly stumbled forward, looking around her. There were small cards everywhere now, all burning but only a few recognizable. Death, the magician, and the fool. The fool, the fool, the fool. There were so many fools.

Everything would be fine, Aislyn had told herself, but Aislyn knew little of the drugs of the Unnamye. That being said, she knew one thing well, and that was that mixing drugs was never a terribly good idea. Yet there she was, an illusionist losing her grasp on reality with the effects of one drug taking its toll on her as she overdosed on another. A full dose of Sirencestine and another of Dew. Aislyn was as delirious as she was frightened as she reached the doorway of the burning building. She really was a fool, wasn’t she?

Once outside, she slung her bag over one arm, briefly assessing the surroundings before chasing after Madiera. She didn’t have to move terribly fastly, nor terribly far, and soon she was upon the woman.

You.” Her left hand grasped the shoulder of the woman, her right at her side, still limply brandishing the knife she had yet to sheath. ”You- Miss Craven- I know the Cravens. I fought with the Cravens.” Aislyn still felt angry, but at the current moment she couldn't concentrate on the anger that pulled at her chest, at this woman- at what she had done, at her lies- it took the majority of her ability to remain focused on Thief, to keep her in existence. The rest of her focus went to producing coherent sentences without falling apart. ”The woman, and the man, and the twins with the- the shields of light.”

Darkness bit at the edge of her vision. She had no idea what this ‘Dew’ substance was meant to do, exactly, but whatever it was certainly didn’t mix well with what Aislyn had already been drinking. Her head felt like a migraine in physical form, her vision blurring at assorted moments in time like her mind was a beach and the headache the waves, slowly eroding her away. She felt like hell. She hadn’t even considered the fact that she had just seemingly reappeared after disappearing into thin air.

”I- took notes. I know.” Through her migraine, Aislyn remembered the Cravens; the ones that had come down from their grand castle to fight alongside the common people of Alvadas during the Winter War. The ones that had suddenly produced some ungodly witchcraft Aislyn could hardly describe as she had watched them from afar, writing as much as she could with what time she could given the apocalypse surrounding her. She’d watched them fight against the hordes, and had taken a particular interest in watching them tear apart their opponents, both living and dead. They were merciless. They were powerful. And they looked nothing like the pale, sunken, red-eyed girl that Aislyn wanted nothing more than to run through with a knife. The Cravens, with their ungodly ways, had fought for Alvadas. This girl poisoned a stranger out of spite. ”But you don't- you can't- you are no Craven.

OOCI have just realized I have been spelling ‘Unnamye’ incorrectly as ‘Unnayme’ this entire thread thus far, including in the actual title of the thread (which I will now proceed to edit). Gah.
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Aislyn Leavold
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[The Unnamye] A Crisis of Dreams (Madeira)

Postby Chameleon on April 14th, 2017, 3:41 pm

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As Madeira walked, the city moulded to her step, curving with every step and guiding her on a path of its own. The illusions of the city - the herd of books and everything else, dropped away slowly, until all there was was a small cobbled street, tall crooked buildings rising on either side, and the pale glow of the moon against her. The tranquillity hit her hard, a change to the madness of the city, but it was there neither to reassure her or to scare her. Just a blank slate for the next set of illusions - or hallucinations - each stronger than the next.

Meanwhile, for Aislyn, the serenity and the fall of moonlight would seem to hit the Craven outright, lighting her up in a spotlight that followed her wherever she went. Maybe this wasn't a true Craven, in her mind, but the city deemed her important enough to be something.

Then the girl seemed to melt into the street, and reform in a mightier form, taller, more beautiful, and.. feathered. Tumbling in a rainbow down her back from the crown of her head, Madeira could feel them too, each feather almost a separate entity as it moved in an imaginary wind. They rose and fell wildly, flaring like a bird who wanted to display her feathers. There was a whispering through the air, so light it was almost undistinguishable as words, but it was clear what they were saying, "Craven, Craven, Craven-cravencraven."

Amidst the ripple of colour of the feathers, shadows began to sprout from the ground, crawling from every dark spot across the cobbles and the walls. As they moved, everything they touched was drained from its coloured, entering a world of black and white. Madeira's feathers shrunk away from them, trying to avoid the shadow creatures' touch. They flattened against her, throbbing slightly with her breathing.

One particular shadow creature took interest in Aislyn. He saw through her illusion. He knew. And his eyes betrayed it all.
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[The Unnamye] A Crisis of Dreams (Madeira)

Postby Madeira Craven on April 19th, 2017, 11:39 pm

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“Khayal?”

That one word was part shock and part warning, spoken to the little knife hovering drunkenly at her torso. Khayal was back? Was she real? She could feel that desperate vice grip on her shoulder, and smell the charcoal on her hand. She imagined that knife would feel real enough, too.

The street and illusions around them had drained away as she had walked. No, that wasn’t the word. It had exhaled. The city had exhaled and this was the moment between breaths.

But she was still breathing, and with every breath she changed. The ground shrunk away from her, her body became healthy and glowing, and feathers tumbled and frothed from a heavy crown on her head. The wind around them lit up with whisperings of her family name. And though it was only an illusion, and only Ionu knew if it was all in her head, Madeira felt for the fist time that that name wasn’t just some impossible expectation but her privilege. For the first time it felt like her name.

That knife was still there, and the crazed woman was still close enough to smell the earthy tea on her breath, but something shivered in her feathers and Madeira knew there was something more dangerous than her to be scared of.

Shadows ripped themselves from the cracks in the cobblestone, from under the eves of the buildings, from behind potted plants and windowsills. Whatever they touched seemed to wither and fade, pulling the two women into a world of black and white. Her shivering feathers pushed up against her body, and she instinctively stepped closer to the other woman.

“Khayal.”

It was amazing how much a word could change in the course of a chime. Now the name was laced with an alarm as dark and brittle as tinted glass. But she was a Craven, a real one, and something in her body’s illusion was slicing through the fear with a cool confidence she’d never had before.

Her feathers were telling her to flee, and she had to agree. The shadow creature were closer now. She could feel their focus circling Khayal with dark intent.
Fly, her feathers begged. Fly! But it was to late, as the first of the shadow creatures lunged at Khayal with burning eyes.
I'll be slowing down to a crawl this month, as work and holiday madness both strive to kick me in the teeth. Please excuse late replies and unfinished business, and know that's I'll be back to kick ass in the new year!

Happy Holidays
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[The Unnamye] A Crisis of Dreams (Madeira)

Postby Madeira Craven on March 17th, 2018, 4:09 am

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Grades Awarded!

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request!


Madeira Craven

Skills
  • Observation: 2xp
  • Socialization: 1xp
  • Negotiation: 1xp
  • Subterfuge: 1xp
  • Planning: 1xp
  • Persuasion: 2xp
  • Wrestling: 1xp
  • Logic: 1xp

Lores
  • Spiritism: possession fatigue
  • Location: The Unnayme
  • Drug: Overture
  • Drug: Sirencestine
  • People: Khayal

Awards & Retribution
Pot of Overture: -5sm

Notes
Notes here.


Aislyn Leavold

Contact me once you return to receive your grade![/size]
Notes here.
I'll be slowing down to a crawl this month, as work and holiday madness both strive to kick me in the teeth. Please excuse late replies and unfinished business, and know that's I'll be back to kick ass in the new year!

Happy Holidays
User avatar
Madeira Craven
long may she reign
 
Posts: 966
Words: 787572
Joined roleplay: October 11th, 2016, 7:45 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 5
Featured Thread (1) Mizahar Grader (1)
Overlored (1) Donor (1)
2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

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