Spectrum

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Phobius
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Spectrum

Thu Feb 14, 2019 4:20 am

15th Trial of Cylus, 719

Phobius could remember falling asleep — he had been tired, and it hadn't taken him long. But now he was awake, fully dressed (save for his boots, which seemed to be missing), and standing in a place that looked nothing like his room. There weren't even any walls.

He looked down. Beneath his bare feet, clouds drifted by — big, fluffy, pink-and-purple clouds — and beneath those clouds, he caught a glimmer of something shiny. Metal, maybe? He wasn't sure. Suddenly, something else skittered past him, and he jumped, only to recognize it almost as soon as he saw its bluish-grey fur. "Mollie...?"

The cat's ears twitched, but she didn't stop to look at him; she was busy chasing something, pawing at the ground and making that sound she always made whenever she saw birds outside her favorite window. Stifling a giggle with his hand, Phobius watched her until another glimmer caught his eye; she seemed to see it, too, but whatever it was, it was quick — much quicker than a cat. It slipped out from under her, coming close enough to him that he could get a good look at it. He gasped.

It was a fish, covered in beautiful, glistening scales.

Somehow, they were standing on water.

No... an entire sea.

The realization made him feel lightheaded. Slowly, he sank to his knees, then tilted his head back so that he could stare at the sky. In it were the same pink-and-purple clouds; if there was a sun, it hadn't risen yet. That made it dawn.

A sea. He had only ever seen the sea once, when... well, when he'd been on a boat. And someone had been with him, but he couldn't remember who. Was it Mollie? Maybe, maybe not.

He didn't think that he could swim. As a matter of fact, he didn't think that he liked water very much, if at all. But he liked the sea, and this one was especially pretty with its rainbow-colored fish.

When he stood back up, he was more than a little surprised to see that things had changed. Now there was a small, round table in front of him; beyond it, a single door that seemed to stand all on its own. Mollie had noticed the latter and was calling to it, as though she expected someone to come through and feed her, but Phobius could only stare at it in a mixture of hope and wonder. If someone were to come through, then who would it be...?
Last edited by Phobius on Thu Feb 28, 2019 8:18 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 445
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Sybil Malach
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Re: Spectrum

Fri Feb 15, 2019 12:49 am

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The door remained unopened. There was a distinct wonder about its make. It was wooden, with strange engravings that seemed to shift with the impulses of the water itself. It were as though it were a strand of wood being shifted about, thin enough to be manipulated like paper. The designs themselves did not dance, but they seemed to bear with them a certain quality of movement within the deeper etchings. Its handle was brass, and quite oddly shaped. While utterly bland in design, the shape of the knob itself was like a teardrop cut of a gem, with a single etching that made it almost look as though it could be unlatched, to reveal what should be a keyhole.

"What are you?" Came a voice.

It's clear by the direction of the sound, it did not come from behind the door. Yet its voice was utterly distorted. Inhuman, but not terrifying. It is as though it were pitched with glass, a shattered existence with a fragile hum. Standing to Phobius's left, the entity seemed to stand upon a frozen patch of water, that seemed almost as transient as the figure itself.

Almost as though one with the ice itself, Sibyl appears to be sprouting up, like a sapling from it. In despite of this, however, the glowing inner segments of the body seem to obfuscate, and only give vague impressions on the nature of the being. Like an ink imprint of a person, rather than a full, realized one. Its arms move, glistening with the frailty of its connection with Emea, gesturing to Phobius, in slow, languid movements. It seems to pause for a moment, in brief consideration of the person in front of it. The eyes always lagging behind, ever so slightly, but it seems to respond to Phobius's movements with relative ease, as though it was just the visage itself that was lagging behind, as opposed to the entirety of the entity before Phobius.

The cloak of the entity seems to freeze at the edges, and the pool of frozen water halts directly beneath it. As though the cold were contained within the cloak itself, and disobeying the basic laws of thermoregulation. Its spectral head tilts to the side, "What is this place?" It asks, voice practically crystallizing upon the air it speaks.
word count: 389
Status: Alive      Location: Viden      Corruptions: Partial Possession      Wounds: Migraines & Mental Strain
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Phobius
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Re: Spectrum

Sat Feb 16, 2019 10:36 am

"What are you?"

Phobius blinked. He hadn't expected it to be the first to speak, and somehow, it seemed to have come through the door without even opening it. Its voice sounded strange, too — almost broken, but he could still understand it. Wanting to answer its odd question, he turned toward it and let his eyes adjust to its faint, ghostly figure. Although it had the shape of a person, its face was featureless, and it moved so slowly that he had to wonder if it was real. If he reached out to touch it, would his hand go right through it, or would he feel something solid — like cloth, or maybe even skin? The temptation was strong, but he managed to resist it. Real people didn't like to be touched, and if it turned out to be real, he didn't want to be rude and make it uncomfortable.

It moved its arms a little, though Phobius couldn't tell if it was trying to point at him, the table, or Mollie, who had gone back to chasing fish; then it asked him what this place was, and he smiled. "I don't know," he said, taking a moment to look around. "I've never been here before, but I think... it's the sea. Or a sea. And I'm me. What are you?"

Now it was his turn to tilt his own head. The rest of his body tilted with it until he was leaning forward, his braid practically dangling from his shoulder.

"You're all shimmery and icy. How come I can't see your face? And how'd you get here? The door didn't open..."
Last edited by Phobius on Thu Feb 28, 2019 8:19 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 290
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Sybil Malach
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Re: Spectrum

Sat Feb 16, 2019 12:10 pm

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"I am... I'm not quite sure." Comes the admission from the specter. For a moment, it reaches a hand up, to feel at its own face... Almost in tandem with the thoughts put forward by Phobius. Yet, obviously by how broken the movement itself is, it's not going his own impulses, but its own. A happy coincidence, though the texture of its existence is not revealed. There is an audible, high-pitched tink that comes from it, as its hands phase through its own face. As though something was tapping on glass. Shouldn't it have shattered?

It moves, slowly, as Phobius continues to speak, however. The pool of ice melting behind it, as it walks, but its feet never touching water, freezing it along with the footprints itself. A strange effect, if one truly cared enough about such things. Its hands return to beneath its cloak, "Ice is my kin. That is all I know." Comes its eventual answer, to the nature of its own existence. A slow shake of the head is given, and the slow crackling of glass is given, as it does this action, as though the material was warping to do it.

The face gives a burst of expression, for a moment. There's something vague, hidden in the light, as the being focuses. It glances on over to the sea itself. Joining Phobius in a moment of introspection, it considers the statement given. A slow shake of the head, "I was here for some time. ... I do not know this place. ... Do you know of it?" It asks, with a slow tilt of the head, almost mirroring the man's action, its breath visible upon the air... "It feels... Far. I do not know how to describe it." The Entity tries to verbalize, as it glances below the frozen ground at its feet.
word count: 311
Status: Alive      Location: Viden      Corruptions: Partial Possession      Wounds: Migraines & Mental Strain
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Phobius
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Re: Spectrum

Mon Feb 18, 2019 2:38 am

Phobius watched in awe as it tried to touch its own face, only for its hand to pass right through what should have been its cheek. It said that it wasn't sure what it was — that its kinship with ice was all that it knew, and he suppressed a small shiver. The air around them was suddenly much colder.

As it moved, his eyes fell to its feet. That was when he noticed that the water beneath it was frozen solid. Was that its "kinship"? What was the purpose of it? He tried to come up with an answer on his own, but then it — or rather, they — started to speak again, doing so slowly. They had been here for a while, but they didn't know what "here" was. Did he? "Not really," he said, leaning back so that he could stand a bit straighter. This wasn't the same sea that he had seen, before; it felt different, and much like the figure, he found himself struggling to find the right words for those feelings.

"It feels... Far. I do not know how to describe it."

"Far." That sounded nice, for some reason. "Far, far away. From a place that you know."

Maybe that place was their home, and their home was cold. He thought to suggest this to them, but a sudden shift in the air stopped him, and instead, he looked around. The table seemed to have disappeared, along with the door; even Mollie was, oddly enough, nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, Phobius took a step forward. "Mollie?" he called, expecting her to hear him and come running, but even though he stood and waited, she didn't. Maybe she had gotten so far away that she couldn't hear him, anymore? He took another step, and then another, scanning the sea's surface for her small, furry body until it suddenly seemed to break, as though his weight had become too much for it to bear. In a matter of seconds, the sea swallowed him whole, and although he clasped his hands over his nose and mouth, he thought that he would drown. Like the sea, however, the water was different; he could actually breathe in it.
Last edited by Phobius on Thu Feb 28, 2019 8:19 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 380
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Sybil Malach
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Re: Spectrum

Mon Feb 18, 2019 4:41 am

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The entity seemed to follow Phobius. As though its own body were forced to follow suit with the dream's state. Beneath the water, the cloak's hood flips up, drowning the entity's face with the darkness beneath the now sodden cloth. For a moment, the figure flares red, along its colors, the impulse of animalistic self preservation kicking in, like a raccoon being trapped inside of a hunter's trap. Sibyl moves its hands, as though struggling up to the once colorful sky, its eyes remaining trained on the above, before it all simply...

The entity seems to adjust, the minute a deep gulp of water is taken. Body sinking, it's forced to bear the pressures of beneath the water. Oddly enough, the color seems to change around its body, to a chilled almost cyan. Something strong, and instinctual within the entity seemingly forcing it to perceive water like this on impulse, rather than reason. Its form hardens in its ethereal shape, as it's experiencing these vivid emotions, and reactions. For a moment, it's almost as though the specter just might break the shroud of light around it, and become something more... Corporeal. Yet such a thing never comes to pass.

As it calms, its eyes slowly seem to move to Phobius. Even the darkest parts beneath the cloak illuminated to some degree.

Its lips part for a moment, as though testing the ability to make sound. The uncertainty of it, forces the sound to come out in horrible sync with the lips. The questionable nature of this being's existence beginning to spring forth and multiple in that moment, "... The water does not burn." Comes the comment, voice utterly distorted. In this moment, it is as though this being were questioning something deep within its own reality, as well. Looking down at its hands, as the beautiful underwater around it seems to slowly come to a halt, as the surface becomes further, and further away.

I can't... Is the resounding thought. The being unable, or unwilling to question itself. The more questions drawn, the weaker its ties to existing in this realm come.

And in that moment, Sibyl seems to come to terms with something internal, as its eyes train upon the man floating beneath the waves with it, "What.. Is Mollie?" It asks, as though the question itself was the tether to its own existence.
word count: 403
Status: Alive      Location: Viden      Corruptions: Partial Possession      Wounds: Migraines & Mental Strain
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Re: Spectrum

Sun Aug 04, 2019 7:43 pm


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Thread Review

Phobius

Phobius
Skill Points: +15 (cannot be used for magic)
Magic XP: None.

Renown: None.

Injuries/Overstepping: None.
Wealth Points: None.
Loot: None.

Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Non-Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Notes: n/a.
Player Word Count: 1115 words.

Sybil

Sybil Malach
Skill Points: +15 (cannot be used for magic)
Magic XP: None.

Renown: None.

Injuries/Overstepping: None.
Wealth Points: None.
Loot: None.

Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Non-Skill Knowledge:
  • none requested.
Notes: n/a.
Player Word Count: 1103 words.

A non-template Sybil! Rare find!

Understandable that this would be a bit of a trick to figure out how to wrap up in a solo way. It was a nice dream thread, shame it didn't get wrapped up since only a couple more posts would've done it.

The symbolism of the water and ice suited Phobius feeling out of depth to how Sybil interacted with the dreaming world, and maybe Sybil feeling a similar way. I feel like this was a thread that teased how much Sybil would be involved in Emea in the coming development.

Enjoy your rewards!

PM me if you have any questions, issues or concerns.

Total Word Count: 2218 words.
Review Request Link: viewtopic.php?p=125944#p125944
stampcodehere

word count: 240
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