Meeting Mysrai

Emar

Kudos to @Mysrai - first time interacting, and was fun!

Background: Emar has met @Xypher, his grandson, on a few occasions since returning - and has been most displeased that the only thing keeping him from returning home to the Glomdoring is Mysrai. When the opportunity presents itself, he ventures to try and discern more.

---------------------------------------------

With a whisper of energies and a glimpse of changing paradigms, the veil parts, allowing you passage

beyond.

The Fulcrux of Mysrai.

Throughout the location, small dancing flames flicker and spark. Oilslick patterns ripple across the

silken folds of this veil as it flutters between two paradigms. Veils of reality bounded by skeins

of ivory and blood-hued blossoms twist and shiver above a poppy-inlaid vessel filled with burning

coals. In the shape of an open palm, a metallic sigil lies here. Chirbo is here. He wields a wooden

lute in his left hand. Mysrai, the Dancer Upon the Void floats here, surrounded by twisting

manifestations of half-realised paradigms. She wields a massive wand studded with cold diamonds

and void-black stars in Her left hand.

You see a single exit leading through a fluttering veil.

Mysrai gazes upon you with black-shimmering eyes. Cold pinpricks of light and whirling

constellations sparkle with Mysrai's eyes as they regard you with unnerving, unseeing focus.

You see the following people here:

@Chirbo, Mysrai, Emar.

Chirbo holds up his thumb in Mysrai's direction as he considers Her carefully.

Mysrai, the Dancer Upon the Void intones, "Greetings, Emar of the Glomdoring."

You have emoted: Emar stops suddenly, looking about carefully before placing a hand on his chest. He casts his wings out and bows low.

Cutting wood into sturdy boards, Chirbo assembles a frame. He then stretches a cloth over the frame until he holds a perfect canvas, suitable for painting a work of art.

With a careful eye, Chirbo balances a palette of paints in one hand and props a canvas on his knee.

After pondering Mysrai's profile, he attacks the canvas with furious brush strokes and soon has

created a painting of Mysrai.

You intone, "Darkest Tidings."

You say, "Please forgive my transgression."

Chirbo gives a painting of a jade-armoured Wyvern Rider to you.

Chirbo greets you with a sincere smile.

Mysrai, the Dancer Upon the Void intones, "We are not displeased."

You have emoted: Emar Stormcrow cocks his head to one side, greeting Chirbo with a single, beady

red eye. He considers the jade-armoured Wyvern Rider carefully.

-          look mysrai

She is a radiant immortal and and slender to the point of androgyny. Her skin, a rich dark brown

reminiscent of strong tea, is shot through with whorls of shifting, chaotic energies; Her eyes are

an endless, void-stricken black shot through with cold streaks of starfields. Long, narrow braids of

blood-red hair swing loose in a rattling curtain of voidcopper beads about a face entirely too full

of sharp, inhuman angles, their ends sparking with Divine energies. Beneath Her bare, dirt-smeared

feet, reality itself warps and twists, swirling around Her in a loose field of potential paradigms

and swiftly tilting planes of being. She is wearing a jade bangle bracelet set with cat's eye quartz,

a tinny bracelet of seared, bloodstained bells, a mercurial vest of shifting hues, a reforged crown

of gleaming voidcopper and a verdigrised voidcopper loincloth.

You say to Mysrai, "You are too kind."

You have emoted: Emar stretches his wings before folding them neatly.

Mysrai's eyes gleam, stars shifting swiftly within the Void-black orbs.

You say to Chirbo, "This is an excellent painting."

Chirbo's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

Veils of pale copper energies swirl briefly in the air about Mysrai's form before settling.

Chirbo says to you, "I do my best."

Mysrai, the Dancer Upon the Void intones, "May you prosper in the paradigms of the arts, Chirbo."

Mysrai smiles softly.

Chirbo's mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile.

Chirbo says, "Um."

The Goddess fades away into a shadow, then a dream, then nothing at all.

Chirbo ponders a painting of Mysrai thoughtfully, looking it up and down.

You have emoted: Emar Stormcrow looks at where Mysrai once stood in silence for several moments, before turning to Chirbo.

Chirbo says to you, "I hope I didn't keep you from asking something."

Chirbo shuffles his feet uneasily.

You say to Chirbo, "In truth, I had hoped to see the Goddess... But I am not let down."

You ponder the situation.

Chirbo says, "Um."

Chirbo nods his head emphatically.

You look confused and say, "Or... See Them."

You say, "My Grandson was most... Vague."

Chirbo says, "I'm elated, I got to paint Them."

You remark to Chirbo, "To Them, perhaps such things are."

Chirbo tilts his head and listens intently to you.

You state, "Xypher Stormcrow."

Chirbo says, "Um."

You have emoted: Emar turns to look where Mysrai once manifested.

Chirbo says, "I haven't seen him before."

You have emoted: Emar flaps his wings.

You say, "He is most adamant in his love of The Mysrai."

You look thoughtful and say, "I had hoped to learn more of this... Connection. Understand him more."

You ask Chirbo, "You are one of Their followers?"

Chirbo says, "Um."

Chirbo shuffles his feet uneasily.

Chirbo says, "Not yet, no."

-          look chirbo

He is a fierce rapscallion dracnari and is a tall and slim one. His scales cover his whole body and

are rounded with a dark green color hue to them. His eyes are like a black abyss, set back behind

his pointed snout. His hands are smooth on the palm, a human like skin that has a lighter shade of

green. Sticking out on each side of his head are scaled ears, standing out from his otherwise

dracnari appearance. He is wearing a canvas backpack, 2 star-etched jade rings, a star-etched beryl

ring, a star-etched sapphire ring, a clear ring, a set of tan, hooded greatrobes, 2 elegant pearl

brooches, an elegant opal brooch and 2 onyx studded clear rings. He walks with the truefavour of

Mysrai.

You look thoughtful and say, "I see."

Chirbo says, "Iari is going to baptise me soon."

You have emoted: Emar nods slowly.

You say to Chirbo, "My Grandson talks as though he is eternally seeking something... Reflected

endlessly in a sea of possibilities."

"Ummmm," Chirbo says uncertainly.

Chirbo shrugs helplessly.

Chirbo mutters and traces the glowing symbol of a rose before him. He smiles as the rose floats

towards him and enters his chest, making him somehow look much more attractive.

You say to Chirbo, "To be frank with you, city-dweller - it prevents him from returning to our nest."

Chirbo tilts his head and listens intently.

You say to Chirbo, "His love for the Endless... It has made him do the most curious things."

Chirbo says, "Maybe if you tasted Freedom you'd be fond of us too?"

You remark, "Freedom. Chaos.... In some ways, the Glomdoring and you are not unlike."

You say to Chirbo, "But where you swim in a sea of your own pleasure, the Glomdoring has purpose -

it has strength in the Wyrd."

You say, "That Xypher is so close, yet so far from this - it is perplexing."

Chirbo says, "Um."

Firmly, you say, "I must begin to understand."

Chirbo says, "You could come and see what he sees?"

Cutting wood into sturdy boards, Chirbo assembles a frame. He then stretches a cloth over the frame until he holds a perfect canvas, suitable for painting a work of art.

You ask, "Come and see what he sees?"

With a careful eye, Chirbo balances a palette of paints in one hand and props a canvas on his knee.

After pondering your profile, he attacks the canvas with furious brush strokes and soon has created

a painting of Emar.

Chirbo smiles and says, "Gaudiguch."

Chirbo gives a painting of Emar to you.

Chirbo puts a painting of Mysrai into a canvas backpack.

-          probe 168930

He is a nimble shadowcaster faeling and is of rather large stature for a member of his race, easily

reaching two to three foot when standing. He carries himself with regal and graceful poise, his form

swathed with dark, flowing clothing that reaches his ankles revealing cruel, glistening talons that

sprout from gnarled crows feet. What flesh can be seen is a pitch black, clutching to barely any

muscle at all, his arms seeming to be nothing more than prominent veins and bone. His face sports

acute cheekbones and sombre almond-shaped eyes, their irises a subtle glowing red. His head and

indeed body is completely hairless, with instead great sprawling ritualistic patterns drawn in red

and blue decorating his head, running around creating the image of a great eye that rests on his

forehead, along with other evidently ritualistic face paints. In place of a mouth a long black,

glistening and sharp beak protrudes with its end curled slightly, with his pointy ears stretching

away from it. From his back sprout great crows wings, much larger than himself, and when not in use

lie folded neatly behind his back, their arches stretched up over both his shoulders to frame his

form. He is wearing a phantasmal shroud of shadows, a white crushed velvet robe with roses and

vines,a pristine white pack, a ring of icy night, 2 onyx studded clear rings, a moonstone ring bearing

intricate geometric patterns, a star-etched sapphire ring, 2 thin jade bands, an umbral pocket watch,

an etched garnet ring, a star-etched jade ring, a cloak of crow feathers and a bracelet of totemic

runes.

You ponder a painting of Emar thoughtfully, looking it up and down.

-       You ask Chirbo, "Will you do me one service, dracnari?"

Chirbo tilts his head and listens intently to you.

You give a painting of Emar to Chirbo.

You say to Chirbo, "Hang this where my Grandson will lay his eyes upon it."

Chirbo ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

Chirbo says, "I will be on the look out for him."

Chirbo nods his head emphatically.

Cocking his head to one side, you say, "Thank you..."

Chirbo nods his head emphatically.

You caw in Crowtongue, "Oh Mighty Crow! Where is the Darkness in this place? Where is the Wyrd?"

You have emoted: Emar ruffles his feathers.

Taking a deep breath, you say, "It this what Gaudiguch is?"

Chirbo tilts his head and listens intently to you.

Chirbo asks, "Is...?"

Chirbo says, "Gaudiguch is good, it's like..."

Chirbo says, "Imagine a place...where children are allowed to play, then they are left with all the

resources in the world...And they are Free to be anything and everything they dream."

Stepping from the veils, her voice a low purr, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "The potential for anything,

given enough Will to grasp it. Such is true, young Chirbo."

Chirbo shuffles his feet uneasily.

Chirbo nods his head at Sebitti Silkenhand.

Murmuring softly, Sebitti Silkenhand says to you, "You seem upset, High Druid."

You have emoted: Emar cocks his head to the other side, appraising Sebitti carefully with a single,

beady red eye. He takes a step closer, cocking his head to the other side.

You say, "Upset may be a good word for it, stranger..."

Chirbo says, "Um."

Sebitti Silkenhand spreads her hands slowly, her lips parting in a smooth, lazy grin that exposes

many sharp teeth.

Cutting wood into sturdy boards, Chirbo assembles a frame. He then stretches a cloth over the frame until he holds a perfect canvas, suitable for painting a work of art.

-          look sebitti

Clad from head to toe in cascading veils of translucent, coppery silk, Sebitti Silkenhand is a

curving, lithe form exposed in flashes of tea-coloured skin and amber eyes. Worked with slender

traceries of embroidery, this garb envelops her like a robe, or a gown of curves and cunningly-

knotted silk: her wrists flash occasional bangles of gleaming silver set with indigo-whorled opals.

The faint parting of her veils reveals tea-coloured skin, sharp, almost taloned nails, and lengths

of ivory ribbon knotted around slender, backwards-jointed legs.

Sebitti Silkenhand has an air of extreme strength.

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "I understand those of the Glomdoring are not given to any choice

but extremism. This is a path to Will, yes."

You ponder Sebitti Silkenhand thoughtfully, looking her up and down.

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "But not the only."

You have emoted: Emar folds his arms behind him neatly.

You remark, "A path to Will..."

You say to Sebitti Silkenhand, "A curious statement. I suppose one would need to know what you think Will is."

Sebitti Silkenhand gazes upon you with black-shimmering eyes. Cold pinpricks of light and whirling

constellations sparkle with Sebitti Silkenhand's eyes as they regard you with unnerving, unseeing

focus.

You remark, "It may seem extremism to the unenlightened... but the Wyrd is everything but."

You state, "It is Truth, purely."

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Truth is malleable, High Druid."

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Much like reality."

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Much like memory. Which may at times be false."

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "What is reality but another veil - or another web? Truly, the

webs - or the veils - may be endless."

You have emoted: Emar allows a wry smile, cocking his head the other side to better survey Sebitti

with his other eye.

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Will is what is within. Sharpened, the self may express it as

True Will."

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "It is within gods and mortals both, in different manifestations,

in different measures."

Sebitti Silkenhand presses her taloned hands together, then flicks the fingers out, her palms

parting in a graceful, fluid movement.

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Each as intricate in its interlocking as the steps of a dance, or

the length of a silken thread."

Sebitti Silkenhand says to Chirbo, "Or the stroke of a paintbrush."

Sebitti Silkenhand's eyes sparkle with amusement at Chirbo.

You have emoted: Emar ponders Sebitti's words in silence for many moments before flapping his wings once.

You say to Sebitti Silkenhand, "Then if the Will is as you would consider reality, wholly malleable,

and each has a construct of their own design - what is their purpose? What is their place?"

You ask Sebitti Silkenhand, "Why does my Grandson tear his eyes out in search of something he then

does not wish to see?"

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "That is a deep mystery, one best answered by the individual.

Though, truly, you should ask him what he sees without eyes."

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Though..."

Sebitti Silkenhand's eyes sparkle with amusement at you.

Chirbo shuffles his feet uneasily.

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "He did not tear them out, High Druid."

Purring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "The Thousandfold plucked them from him and took them as jewels to adorn Her neck, and in return... ah, the blessing They gave..."

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "He is greatly honoured by Them, in what he now sees."

Drifting closer, Sebitti Silkenhand says to you, "I could demonstrate. You have such sharp eyes,

High Druid."

Sebitti Silkenhand reaches out languidly with sharp-taloned fingers, swaying slightly, cobra-like.

You have emoted: Emar stands resolute, dragging his right crowfeet in a semicircle. He cocks his

head to the other side.

Sebitti Silkenhand reaches out to tenderly cup your cheek in her hand.

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Well?"

You say to Sebitti Silkenhand, "I know my place, strange one... And I know my own eyes."

Sebitti Silkenhand smiles softly at you.

Her hand slipping away, Sebitti Silkenhand says, "Perhaps."

Her voice dropping into a low purr, Sebitti Silkenhand says to you, "Perhaps you should ask your

grandson what he sees, then, if you are so... puzzled."

Sebitti Silkenhand turns away, sashaying towards the far wall of the cavern.

Murmuring, Sebitti Silkenhand says to Chirbo, "We shall speak again soon, when you are amidst the

Beloved."

Sebitti Silkenhand steps into the veils and simply vanishes, as if she never was.

You have emoted: Emar flaps his wings once with gusto, sending a stray crows feather to dance

through the air.

You intone, "Through the Eye of Crow we see the Truth..."

You say to Chirbo, "Within the Epitome of Perfection."

With a roar, the mastershrine erupts into white fire, devouring the stray primaries that drift near.

-          look shrine

Forged from brushed copper, the rim of this massive, shallow bowl is inlaid with tilework depicting

white and crimson poppies. Within, coals snap and sparkle, releasing resinous plumes into the air.

Distortions of heat and reality intermingle above the banked fires: within these folds of being/non-

being, constellations shift and sparkle, obscured by veils of dancers, by the robes of indistinct

figures, by the very twisting of the smoke itself. Above, untouched by the searing heat, a spiral of

ivory blossoms rotates, flickering around and through a matching skein of blood-hued flowers curling

in the opposite direction.

Shifting whispers of reality condense as an echoing voice intones, "Your Crow does not see here,

Emar of the Glomdoring."

Shifting whispers of reality condense as an echoing voice intones, "Depart."

You have emoted: Emar turns his head quickly to the shrine in surprise, before his eyes narrow. He

nods once and stretches his wings out.

Placing a hand on his chest and bowing, you say, "Praised be."

You say to Chirbo, "Please, remember my request Dracnari."

You intone, "Eyes have all - and Wills as well."

With a whisper of energies and a glimpse of changing paradigms, the veil parts, allowing you passage

beyond.

 ------------------------------

FIN

Chirbo

Tylwyth

You shouldn't threaten to pluck out eyes to a Crow Follower, as we actually CAN pluck out eyes...

...just saying.....

Iari

Tylwyth said:

You shouldn't threaten to pluck out eyes to a Crow Follower, as we actually CAN pluck out eyes...

...just saying.....

That's not just an idle threat. When Sebitti plucks your eyes out, they stay plucked out.

Trust me on that one.