[The Twuele] Rituals of Revival

A rotting Savis finds light in the depths of darkness.

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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[The Twuele] Rituals of Revival

Postby Savis Maren on September 21st, 2018, 9:21 am

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1st of Autumn, 518


Time lost all meaning when eternity was bathed in darkness. Already the Nuit eluded the pull of sleep, the need to eat, the pleasures of the senses were deprived from her, as well. Savis waited for Dira to take her, imprisoned in her mind and unable to escape. Rips opened in the Nuit's flesh, painless but clearly suffused with infection and rife with foreign invasions. Parasites began to infest within the rotting flesh, and Savis knew it well by the feel of them crawling against her bones. The rotting corpse was disgusted with her condition, a condition that refused to let her die! Would she unravel when the brain of the host at last withered away? What was death to the dead? The questions burned within Savis as the Watchtowers that paved the change of seasons turned red. Savis wouldn't know it, but as those Towers changed, her salvation might yet be found.

Bells passed in the hell of Savis' thoughts, but as Syna began her first approach to the heights of Autumn's skies, her light brought back Savis' own. The effects of the wild djed dissipated, slowly the paralysis within her ebbed away, her eyes first taking blurred light and vague shapes. When Syna was high in the sky and Savis saw it fit to move from what would've been both bed and coffin, she even found the groans of disapproval at her condition escape her lips. The woman moved to the mirror, where her normally pallid expression was soured by the sickly yellow of pus that welled beneath her flesh. The Nuit's face was bloated, her hands and arms swollen. She seemed capable of movement at her legs, but the lag between her arms and her brain seemed troublesome. There was no other plan, other thought in the Nuit's mind. The Twuele awaited her, and with it, the change she'd put off for entirely too long. Her body did not step... the Nuit shambled through the door, leaving her home in the Solar Wind apartments.

The path towards the Twuele was known to her, a place she wished not to visit on a regular basis and yet... her arrangement with the Shinya made it the sanctum in which her decaying flesh was abandoned and replaced with... less decayed flesh. Savis Maren's appearance within the Twuele was alarming, but the attendant could tell immediately what she needed. Talora told them of the arrangement between Nuit and Ethaefal, but they certainly expected her arrival much sooner. Savis didn't have the time to spend mincing words. Immediately when she was greeted, her mouth opened. Savis no longer possessed lips, such flaps of flesh had rotted off, leaving her yellowed and rotted teeth visible for all to see. Talora was alerted to Savis' presence and immediately pulled the disturbing sight of a Nuit aside.

"What happened to you?" she asked, less concerned and more utterly repulsed by the sight of the apparition before her.

"To no fault of anyone but myself, this past Summer has been the worst time of my life. Wild djed robbed me of my sight, my voice, and it thrust my body into horrific waves of paralysis. I've come as soon as I could, Talora. Please, help me," she beseeched the Ethaefal, who seemed as sympathetic as she was revolted. She nodded and did not answer, gesturing for the Nuit to follow her to the third floor of the building. Savis' step was slow and more than once she needed to stop for her rotting legs to properly carry her over the steps. It was an ordeal of humiliation, to be so decrepit, but truly there was nothing to be done about it. Savis followed to the best of her ability, and Talora called her subordinates to orchestrate what needed to be prepared for this ordeal. A body was procured, the mass carried on a stretcher and covered with heavy black tarp, presumably to protect the deceased's privacy within the Twuele.

Savis had no use for such sentiments. Immediately a hand rose up to pull the tarp off from the body. The sight of the form she was to take was a reasonable one. While the short, female form wasn't as beautiful as Savis liked, she lacked any sort of cuts or abrasions on the length of her. The deceased was nude beneath the tarp, and Savis explored the expanse of her flesh, feeling carefully for invisible signs of disturbance before she decided on a better option. With her senses properly restored and her connection to her personal djed available to her without signs of rebellion, she breached into the reservoir of her djed. For the first time in over twenty days of sightless hell, she willed the Sight to flow through her damaged eyes. The body before her was most certainly deprived of an aura. The matter was simply that, dead flesh with no soul or any particularly interesting elements. Auristics, however, was useful for more than sensing djed. The Nuit was able to peer through the flesh and looked into the systems of the body within her gaze.

There were no open wounds anywhere on the body, her skin smooth aside from a bulge that existed in her throat, signs of the body's battle against obstruction. Clearly, this woman had choked to death, and while she was an inferior host to what her current body was at its prime, it was more than suitable for the Nuit's sensibilities. Savis let the Sight flicker into nothingness, instead raising her arm and producing the paint brush kit from the pockets of her ruined dress. Luckily, it seemed that Talora's subordinates thought of this disaster and provided her with a set of clothing to replace what she'd sacrifice on this body. Savis wasn't eager for the ritual, but she couldn't postpone it any longer. She needed to act, and act immediately, or else suffer the clutch of Dira's unyielding grip.

Savis did not wish to rely on her frail and swollen hands for the task, and instead she pulled at the reserve of her personal djed a second time. She breached the form of her astral body, envisioning her form as sheeted paper and her djed as a scalpel which cut the connection. She flooded djed through the severed 'paper', willing her astral arm to rise. Her own arm fell limp entirely as Savis reached for the paint brush. Her astral hand carried the paintbrush well enough, dabbing it in black ink before guiding the brush to her new host body's forehead.

WC: 1093
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Savis Maren
Only a little bit dead
 
Posts: 295
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Joined roleplay: July 8th, 2018, 11:49 am
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[The Twuele] Rituals of Revival

Postby Savis Maren on September 21st, 2018, 9:53 am

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Savis' control of her astral limbs was by no means incredibly advanced, but she'd learned to use her already fledgling skills with the paintbrush from afar. The runes she needed to inscribe were simple, and so very many of the rituals were performed by the Nuit that the entire matter was routine to her. The runes encompassed the new host's forehead, bridges of black ink embossed above the host's eyes and connected beneath the mouth. The archaic runes of Nader-Canoch were not the same as this, for these runes were primal and encoded into the mind of each Nuit who sought to persevere through the cold waters of Tanroa. Savis moved to her host's heart, next, creating the known runes along her chest and leading up the flesh of her neck.

The unbeating heart... she thought to herself, scoffing at the past as she mused on the death she'd avoided by becoming this... thing. The Nuit, however, possessed no desire to die. Already, the ages laughed at her, their mockery felt through the ever unfortunate progression of her unlife. Savis did not buck under the stare of Dira, she did not surrender to the will of Lhex. For all she knew, both deities laughed at her struggles from afar. For all she knew, they didn't give a fuck about her. In the end, Savis' slights were against her and her alone. Dissatisfaction and distaste were her burdens to bear, burdens she'd free herself with when her soul poured into the mouth of this shell, a pathway to the next chapter of her unlife. Savis continued, caressing with her physical hand the palm of the flesh she wrote upon while her astral limb navigated the brush. The undead woman muttered quietly to herself as she worked diligently to cover the other palm with the same runes. When she finished, she'd emboss the flesh of the host's navel, inspecting her work with a scrutinizing gaze before pulling back at the reserve of her djed. She took her time, stitching her disconnected forearm from her astral elbow, repairing the severed connection before her attention shifted to the corpse in front of her.

Now... tut tut. This won't be over until this body's collapsed on the floor, she mused. To some, what she was doing might be considered to be unsettling, or even barbaric. For Savis, this was her existence. It preserved her mind through the ages, kept her bound to Mizahar and away from the judgment of Lhex. Savis didn't pretend to know the nature of souls or what happened after death, and she certainly intended to keep it that way. The Nuit turned her body, hiking up the skirt that her rotting corpse wore. She wrapped her body in bandages that were set aside for her use, intent on keeping her rotting flesh from making contact with the new host body. She took every precaution possible, taking her time because this ritual needed to be performed correctly, even with the fight against time present for her.

The Nuit shook her head, releasing her worries and fears and instead letting instinct take over. The Nuit climbed up the stool before shifting from that stool onto the stretcher her new body was set upon. Her bandaged thighs were on each side of her host's waist, Savis' body hovering over the other corpse as she surveyed it up close. She opened her new host's mouth, felt along the expanse of her jaw and prodded at her teeth. The Nuit could see her host was, with the exception of being very, very much dead, was healthy. Her skin, while pallid from the clutch of death, was smooth and unbroken, her hair had not yet begun to break or disintegrate. Still, the visage of life, the barest glimmer of it was present upon the corpse's countenance, a sign to Savis that her efforts needed to continue. Savis opened her mouth, propping open the corpse's own before she willed within her. She heaved up, her body retching above the prettier corpse's as ichor poured from her throat. The silvery vomitus spilled into the host's mouth, coating its esophagus as Savis forced the mouth open. When her mouth was filled to the brim, she forced the corpse to swallow. Bells passed in the privacy of the room as Savis felt her attachment to the body she inhabited loosen. Her unlife's blood poured into the new host and as Savis' senses began to swim she was taken back to the far-flung past, her eyes wide and unseeing as she drifted into the nothing.

A young, mortal Savis Maren lay in her bed, tears streaming from her swollen eyes as she thrust her gaze to and fro. From the doctor, to her mum, then her dad. Mommy seemed so worried, her own tears eclipsed the young girl's. Savis didn't understand what was wrong with her, and she thought it perfectly reasonable that anyone, even a doctor, wouldn't know as well. Her parents, however, were devastated, cursing and shouting their agony as the young girl was forced but to watch, helpless in her state and reliant on the decisions of her makers...

Time leaped forward, two seasons with the incurable condition robbing her of her movement and her sight. Cold, lonely and sad, the barest touch of daddy's hand or mommy's kiss on her forehead were so rare... so cold she was, alone and dismayed. She cried out for daddy, for mommy, only to be met with silence. They were in the other room, hatching their own desperate plans... They never consulted Savis, or explained to her what was going to happen.

"You'll be okay, Savis," never came. There were no reassurances. For they didn't want to say goodbye to their baby girl, who was destined for a much darker life. But, it was a life all the same. Years of servitude rendered Savis Maren a tool, a puppet at the behest of a Nuit master. Years after, when she was free, she was a victim of fate. Now, in the autumn five hundred and eighteen years after the Valterrian, Savis Maren answered to no one but her whims. Sight restored, senses thriving, and as her pallid corpse collapsed, eyes opened and a new being emerged from the darkness.


Savis Maren was not the victim she used to be. She was not the Nuit who rendered herself subservient to Shinya. The Nuit was her own being, one who'd make Lhavit her home and never be a servant again. Whether it was to a Nuit, a Gadgeteer, or to Lhex him-fucking-self.

My eyes are opened, she mused as she pushed the rotting corpse off from her, rising from the stretcher and avoiding the fallen corpse when bare feet touched cool tile flooring.

WC: 1134
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Last edited by Savis Maren on September 21st, 2018, 10:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Savis Maren
Only a little bit dead
 
Posts: 295
Words: 399286
Joined roleplay: July 8th, 2018, 11:49 am
Race: Nuit
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Medals: 2
Overlored (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

[The Twuele] Rituals of Revival

Postby Savis Maren on September 21st, 2018, 10:24 am

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Metamorphasis.

Savis Maren felt exhaustion wash upon her senses for the first time in a full season. The strain of djed usage did not compare to the encroaching black that set upon her vision. The Nuit was born again, her body wracked with the tremors brought along to adapting to a new shell. Savis was naked to the world, and once taken in with this new body, she decided to get a proper gander from a first-person perspective. She looked in the mirror, her countenance still flushed with the colors of the living, but it wasn't meant for long. Vibrant, emerald eyes looked at the corpse before her. When she opened her mouth, Savis noticed that immediately, the black undertones of her condition suffused into the flesh of her gums and the surface of her tongue. The Nuit looked over her eyelids, which already began to darken and mark her as undead, as well. The commencement was under way, Savis' soul stretching throughout the new corpse and infesting it with the taint of Nuit unlife.

Savis was satisfied with her metamorphosis, but she was not yet satisfied with what she'd done. Normally, the process of sanctifying the new body was done before the rituals. But Savis, so ruined her previous shell was that the process need be completed in her new shell. The Nuit did not trust her usage of formaldehyde with shake hands. There were tiny incisions, one above her breasts, the second at her navel, and the third in the interior of her mouth. Blood was drained from her physical shell through these openings, at the request of Talora and delivered with moments to spare. Savis was lucky to have Talora's assistance, for to undergo such a tedious undertaking with her rotting, shambling mess of a shell would've ended in disaster. No, she had it easty, and certainly, she'd be sure to express her gratitude to the Ethaefal, perhaps with an animation gift to convenience the dazzling Ethaefal, if only a little.

Gratitude is a gift unto others for providing something. Talora has given me another chance at this world, she mused as she used a small pump to siphon formaldehyde into the incisions that were carefully laid out. The Nuit raised a needle to her flesh, carefully weaving shut the openings and covering her body in thin bandages that were meant to be removed as soon as the formaldehyde burned shut the incisions and served to preserve the body from the inside. Savis Maren was prepared for her shot at the world, and when she was satisfied that her efforts at preserving her existence were full and complete. It was a terrible inconvenience for her ritual to take place so late, but it wasn't as if she could help it. She'd gone blind and it was only by the graces of pure, unfiltered luck that her vision returned before her body was entirely turned to nothingness. Savis counted her blessings, even if in the midst of it all she succumbed to utter rage, fear and helplessness, feelings turned inwards to barrage at her self-esteem.

No longer. If I continue to berate myself, then I can never assume that my freedom is truly my own. If I mock my situation, then I am disempowering myself. Savis Maren is no servant. She is not some doormat for anyone, including herself, to walk over, she thought, fists clenched as she allowed one of very few, obvious emotional outbursts to carry along the breadth of her form. Savis, before anything else, needed to wipe the residue of paint off from her body. She used a thin towel, damping it in a water filled basin before dabbing away, bit by bit, of the paint that settled on her flesh. Once her forehead, hands, navel and chest were purified of the black, paste-like paint, she threw on the set of clothes she was afforded.

The outfit was a light gray ensemble of shirt and pants, simple clothes to replace her unremarkable and utterly ruined dress that she'd brought with her to Lhavit. Savis Maren felt a new taste for unlife, her vigor renewed as she made a promise, to no one but herself. The Nuit's step when she exited the Twuele was slow, but exhibited none of the limp or shamble from her entry. She whistled a cheerful tune, her dry lips and glandless mouth unable to produce the saliva to whistle with any kind of tune. Instead, it was hoarse and pathetic, but nonethless, it seemed to carry the joys of life that a child might have shown.

When Savis left it was mid morning, nearing the 12th bell where Syna was at its highest. On her return to the Solar Wind Apartments, it was evening and she'd surely need to have her room either replaced, sanitized or both before she lived there anew. The Nuit was prepared to shell out extra coin if the need arose, and made sure to contact the renting manager of the building before anything else that evening. When all was said and sorted, Savis was twenty kina poorer, but her and her things were moved to a new room, the scents of a clean room greeting her. She thrust herself onto the bed. Sleep did not come for her, but she knew these accommodations were temporary and the exhaustion of her ritual and subsequent trip home had her, perhaps, missing the time when she could simply close her eyes and let Leth pass her by.

Syna was, after all, the infinitely preferable deity among the two.

Ledger :
-20 kina to the Solar Wind Apartments

WC: 934
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Savis Maren
Only a little bit dead
 
Posts: 295
Words: 399286
Joined roleplay: July 8th, 2018, 11:49 am
Race: Nuit
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes
Medals: 2
Overlored (1) 2018 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

[The Twuele] Rituals of Revival

Postby Madeira Craven on October 4th, 2018, 5:16 pm

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Grades Awarded!

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


Savis Maren

Skills
  • Endurance: 2xp
  • Philosophy: 1xp
  • Observation: 2xp
  • Persuasion: 1xp
  • Auristics: 1xp
  • Investigation: 1xp
  • Projection: 2xp
  • Painting: 1xp
  • Animation: 2xp
  • Embalming: 2xp

Lores
  • Philosophy: what is death to the dead?
  • Lore of the contract with the Tweuel
  • Persuasion: beseeching
  • Investigation: finding cause of death
  • Lore of a new host
  • Lore of the Nuit transfer ritual
  • Savis: abandoned in life
  • Savis: new appreciation of unlife
  • Lore of new purpose
  • Lore of determination
  • Projection: detachment
  • Lore of the durability of the astral body vs the physical body
  • Projection: the basics of fine motor control
  • Lore of a promise to self: never be controlled again

Awards & Retribution
-20ki: fresh room

Notes
Gah, that was unsettling. It's not very often we get treated with an inside look at a Nuit's mental process, and it was really interesting to see! Savis is a complicated creature and I cant wait to see more from her. <3

You mentioned in your grade request you wanted character development lores. I got a couple, but if you had something specific in mind let me know.

Also, Protip: For your solos you should really try slimming down your post length. Snip it down to 500-600 words and graders could give you much more loot for your efforts!
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Madeira Craven
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