Azuran

Thanks for the feedback, wyv A note on the use of sublime--it was intended here as a verb...perhaps it wasn't as clear as I'd wanted :/

Motivation, frozen into crystals, Fragile and cold to the touch, Sublime into hungry air, Displacing breath with vaporous hope. Warmth, supplied with good intention, Only melts it away, helpless, As it disappears between the cracks. Await the lightning strike, Priceless inspiration, When the sinister clouds open up. And once again, you dance in the storm.

"I would say," Sol was still trying to fully comprehend what he had felt when trying to locate his fiancé when Sebastian had approached him, "that something is seriously wrong..." He felt in his gut that whatever had happened to Katelyn, it could probably be blamed on the same person as the cause of her sister's disappearance. The worry in Sol's mind was quickly being replaced with anger--perhaps the defense of a warrior--and vengeance would be absolution. The serpent tattoo on his forehead burned and he looked back up at Sebastian, who was still standing with a look of concern on his face. Taking a deep breath, Sol continued, "I'll find out who did this--perhaps my contacts high in the Church will have some useful information to help me... I have faith that the evil behind this cannot hide forever."

Thanks to Tanny for co-writing the flashback part Katelyn's smile never failed to calm Sol's nerves. He held the source of his current concern in his left hand, and idly toyed with Sabastian's message, wondering if he should mention it to Katelyn. Sol wasn't afraid of the meeting, but the events of the past few days showed the cost of carelessness. He had been caught off guard only once before in his life that he could remember... It had been ten years ago, but Sol remembered it clearly in his mind. He still blamed himself for being so foolish and allowing the young dragon to take him by surprise as it had. He had been traveling home to the Ways of Sepharis when there had been a searing pain in his shoulder. As the fiery acid deeply scorched his flesh, down to the pale white of bone in places, his arm fell limply to his side. He had spun around instantly in his demon form, the crystal sword on his uninjured side glinting in the sunlight and refracting a brilliant swath of color onto the dusty landscape as the razor tip whistled in a huge semi-circle before slicing cleanly between two of the whelp’s partially undeveloped thick scales. In a scream of rage, the small dragon had taken to the air as thick, precious dragon’s blood oozed from its wound. Apparently deciding that toying with this human was no longer as fun as it had originally thought, the dragon whelp had disappeared up into the sky, and Sol had collapsed heavily onto the ground, his strength waning and unable to maintain his demonic state. He remembered feeling the last shreds of his vitality slowly slipping, slipping away… Katelyn felt the trickle of energy flowing into the wounded warrior, a hand gently resting on his forehead and the other almost touching the ugly wound. She didn't recognize him, but wondered how he could have been so badly caught by the dragon whelp - since it was clear that, despite being young, he was a powerful warrior. She stroked his forehead lightly again, then his shoulder and arm. And suddenly, a pair of blue eyes were looking at her. "No!" Katelyn jumped backwards. Sol blinked, his still hazy vision just telling him that there had been a woman with him, someone who had suddenly disappeared. Miraculously, he felt his strength returning, and he rose slowly to his feet. As he did so, Sol heard the distinctive scream of the small dragon once again; it had returned and was now attacking for a second time, even more enraged after its failed first attempt. However, this time the whelp had gone for the unarmed dark, fuzzy figure that was dashing away, still just a short distance from him. Katelyn heard the whooshing noise of the wings too late. Feeling the talons grabbing a hold of her, she reverted to demoness form to fight - but she had been pinned down. Sol was on the beast within seconds of the attack. With both of his massive swords landing repeated blows against the unguarded back of the young dragon, Katelyn struggled free from its grasp, and finally the injured whelp retreated for good, with one last hateful look at Sol. The young warrior knelt by the demoness, his eyes full of questions. But he had recognized her now - it was impossible to mistake the pearly-white skin covered in glowing tiny scales paired to the thick copper-red hair. One of the Minobee sisters. Katelyn's violet eyes stared at Sol, for once showing hesitation - she wanted desperately to leave, but the young man had possibly saved her life. As she read the recognition on his face, she sighed. She was aware that both human/demoness forms of Katelyn and Karen used to catch the eye of any Chaosite who had seen them even for afar. "I am Sol of Sepharis. I believe you are one of the Minobee sisters?" She nodded, and reverted to a human form. The normally deep-blue eyes were now some shades lighter. "Katelyn of Minobee. Thank you, Sol of Sepharis." In corteous gestures, Sol both reverted to human form also and offered his hand to help Katelyn up. His eyes checked on her wounds, but he could see that they weren't serious. He had stopped the dragon in time. "You helped me." Katelyn hesitated again, then nodded slowly. There was something about Sol that called for straight answers... Summoning a messenger, Sol hastily wrote out his reply to Sabastian, sealing the letter with wax and the official seal of House Sepharis. Noticing a quizzical glance from Katelyn, he explained, "a meeting with Sabastian--don't worry about me." He handed the sealed parchment to the messenger and sat down, resting his chin in one hand, deep in thought.

Happy birthday, Tanny *huggles*

Sol of House Sepharis Sol is a quiet but powerful man in his late twenties. He is around six feet tall and has medium length hair, in a perpetual state of slight disarray. He also has an equally scruffy beard. Both hair and beard are pure white, offset by piercing sky-blue eyes and a small black tattoo of a snake on his forehead, often partially hidden by his hair. He knows no magic, except faith. His demon form stands a commanding eight feet tall, his broad shoulders and huge form wrapped in glowing ethereal armor. His eyes are exactly the same as in human form. Two ivory horns curl wickedly from either side of his skull, both ornately carved with intricate patterns and symbols. He carries massive crystal swords, one in each hand.

I will be playing, but won't have a character until I get back from visiting UNC this saturday evening (hopefully that's not too late!)

The snow on the ground muffled the earth, strangling out its sanity, its hope. A gentle throbbing in her ears was the only sound Evelyn heard as she swam in slow motion through the past several days. Paranoia no longer adequately conceptualized the essence of her mindset, replaced instead with ethereal finality. A million fingers pointed in a million different directions—fingers that didn’t exist anymore…bloody fingers that curled back on themselves…ghostly fingers that grasped to show the truth. She was still alive, but on the outside the dried husk was already withering away. To survive such madness at the cost already witnessed was hardly salvation. She was innocent—uninvolved in every way, except emotionally. And with dull apathy streaming out as the torrents of agony poured within, Evelyn watched the razor edge of chance glint in shimmering extravagance before relieving her of obligation. OOC: Vote for Johann Olsen.

"Me? You think I would do this?!" Evelyn could barely contain her disbelief at the accusation. Sure, she had constantly been worried that everyone would think she was involved, but now her paranoia had more to do with the knowledge that a killer was still among them. She of course suspected everyone else, and simply latched onto the last name she'd heard. OOC: Vote for Johann Olsen

Wish I had the time to have a little fun here, but alas, thesis due in 9 days says otherwise! Anyway, happy birthday man

Evelyn had switched into a sort of dazed state of mind--everything seemed far too surreal now. It was like one of those almost laughingly melodramatic movies that you'd watch late at night with a few of your girlfriends, eyes glued to the screen while you hugged a pillow with white knuckles. Getting scared out of your wits, but still enjoying it because deep down inside you knew you were really safe. But as she lay on her back, listening to the unintelligible talking and whispering behind the thin walls and closed door, she couldn’t help the thoughts racing through her head. Names flashed behind her eyes, one by one, and for each her mind formulated and constructed some elaborate explanation for why and how they could be the murderer. Her own name suddenly crept up, and the mental gears froze. She slowly opened her eyes, and smiled slightly. She would take what little comfort she could in the one thing she was sure of—perhaps the only thing she could be sure of. And her mind agreed; there was no way she was a killer. OOC: Vote for Brad.

OOC: Written along with Tanny; many thanks She’d known it! Evelyn had just known something horrible was going to happen! And now, as she heard faint whispers and furtive glances from the other instructors, she was just sure they were all going to think she had done this. Running over numerous worst-case scenarios in her mind, she mistakenly walked towards the wrong room, clearly preoccupied with the gruesome state of affairs. Annelise, meanwhile, had left her door slightly ajar while she grabbed the jacket she’d left draped over a chair. She wanted to go outside again for some fresh air to clear her head. She had slipped one arm into the jacket already when the noise of the door being thrown open made her jump. She turned to find Evelyn Thorp standing on the doorway with a most surprised face. "Oh... sorry... wrong room... " "Ah... " Anne tried to calm her racing heart, at the same time quickly placing the girl among the instructors. "... Evelyn, right? Next door... ?" Evelyn nodded a bit nervously, with a glance to the corridor - how she could have walked past her own door was right now a mystery to her. "Yeah... and you're Annelise... we haven't really talked before... " Evelyn had only been an instructor at Vannacutt Point for the past 3 years, and had only heard stories of Annelise—at first she hadn’t even been sure it was the same person as the one she was talking with now. "Well, nice to meet you, Annelise." Anne returned the handshake, and shrugged. "Same here... I was going out for some fresh air... " "That sounds like a good idea... I'd have gone myself, but being alone at night out of the lodge doesn't seem safe. Even with the illumination, some shady spot might be tricky, we could step on a hole and injure ourselves, you know... and there is that faulty step on the stairs... Would you mind if I went with you? " "No... not at all." Anne blinked, and remembered that she had heard Evelyn's worries throughout the day at several points in the mountain. How could an evidently paranoid girl get to be an instructor? Though it would give her some very good traits - caution was never too much. Not in the mountain. Both girls left the lodge, and the chill air greeted them outside. They both carefully avoided the spot where Seth's remains had been found, and walked slowly towards one of the lower slopes. "You know... I've heard about you… you worked here some years ago. I'm sorry about your accident. " Annelise didn't answer immediately, drawing in a sharp breath. Though she did wonder at the lessening of the usual pain she felt every time that accident was mentioned. ”A few of the instructors were talking about you last year…or maybe it was two years ago. I’m not totally sure, but then also there was one skier here during my first season as an instructor, and she asked if I knew you, but of course I didn’t yet at the time. But she said you’d been the instructor for her friend before and were really good! So I did a little bit of asking around, you know…I have to admit I was worried that maybe what had happened to you was a danger I didn’t know about. There are all sorts of dangers up here, you know…” Evelyn's voice was at first just a bur, but then Annelise forced herself to actually listen to her. Something she had said registered, and she turned to her in genuine surprise. "You looked for info on my accident?" “It just goes to show how important it really is to be extra careful when you’re on the slopes! It’s one of the first things I try to teach a new skier—never get in over your head, and remember that as fun as skiing is, you can’t get careless or something terrible can happen. Actually, last year a guy told me that I was just trying to scare him and that nobody ever really gets hurt…I don’t think he really understood the dangers. But I told him the story of your accident and that even an expert skier can make a mistake when she’s not careful, so he’d definitely better be less headstrong--” Annelise looked at Evelyn, so surprised that her face must have shown it as Evelyn abruptly stopped talking. "So you're saying... that carelessness is what was involved..." Annelise's voice was soft, but her eyes were bright with mixed surprise, anger, and pain. “I know!” Evelyn misunderstood Annelise’s comment completely, but continued to explain nonetheless. “And I just know something like that might happen to me too if I’m not careful!” "Hold on." Anne's sharp voice actually took some seconds to register, but Evelyn did stop taking. "So I was careless and brought it upon myself?" There was again an icy calm around her - the same one she used to shield Charles away from her. Evelyn finally realized what she had implied and hastily tried to mend the situation. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that really… Just that it could happen to anyone you know? We all need to be careful…” After a moment of silence, Annelise nodded slowly, and Evelyn decided to just change the topic. “I wonder who could have done that to Seth…” Evelyn spoke as much to herself as to Annelise. “I just can’t see any of us doing something like that!” "I wonder... " Anne didn't want to admit, but she had come to know human nature. "That's insanity, and insanity hides in unlikely places. There is no one but us here..." “Maybe it really is Vinka.” Evelyn couldn’t tell if it was just her paranoia, or logic speaking though. On the way back to the lodge, Annelise still wondered about Evelyn. She didn't really like all the paranoia, but she had to admit to herself that, given the circumstances, the girl had some good points. As for who the murderer could be, and who could have had the chance to kill Seth... she only knew that anyone really could have been alone for long enough. They would maybe ski in couples at the most dangerous trails, but nothing of the kind was really required on their off-duty skiing. At her side, Evelyn kept talking, only a word here and there registering in Anne’s mind. Anne wasn't absolutely sure she liked Evelyn, but she had been one of the few people who knew about her accident and hadn't tried to smother her in pity and sympathetic words. Though implying that she had been careless had been almost as bad as that. Anne wondered if the accident had really been her fault. She knew that accidents happened, that sometimes even the most skilled and careful skier couldn't do a thing to avoid them. But she felt - and she had to face it now - that she might be responsible for at least part of her own injuries. She knew she would never be sure... and she at the same time wanted and didn't want to know exactly what had happened. She just hadn't dared to ask Evelyn if she somehow knew who had rescued her. A ski patroller for sure - no one else would have dared to touch her, and more than that, no one would have been there faster. Not in that difficult trail she had been in. That ski patroller might have known what had happened... but Annelise dreaded the answer. She knew that was one reason she didn't really want people recognizing her and remembering the accident. OOC: Vote for Vinka.

Two of them here...feel free to let me know if I managed to screw up what it means to be a Haiku! Watery thunder Sending foamy sea skyward Waves dance on the rocks --- Nature's crystal ball A dew drop shimmers brightly Sunny prophecy And yea, this isn't actually an entry--it's just a dorky computer graphics themed one that I ended up with while writing the others ;P Sun pops into view Fragment shader adding bloom High dynamic range

Evelyn Thorp looked out of the small, oddly-shaped window of the helicopter nervously. She had never liked flying much, and even now she kept running over and over what she would do if the aircraft were to stall, or if the pilot were to have a heart attack, or if a giant random hailstone were the smash into the rotors… Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a few slow, deep breaths and felt much better when she opened them again. She couldn’t help but smile broadly after stepping out onto the landing pad, the exciting rush of wind from the spinning blades above her head seemed to betray the excitement of the beginning of another season here at Vannacutt Point. Evelyn quickly opened each of her bags before unloading them, doing a brief inspection of the contents just to make sure everything was there, and that she hadn’t forgotten anything back home. Finally, grabbing her skis, poles, and the two large duffle bags, she trudged over towards the lodge. Cringing when one of the stairs creaked slightly under all the weight she was carrying, Evelyn made a mental note that she would have to tell Dana that one of the steps might be rotten and needed replacement. She tenderly climbed the rest of the way up to the front porch, ready to catch herself just in case one of other steps happened to give out. After knocking the snow off her stylish emerald boots, she entered the large common room of the lodge, and dumped her stuff on the floor by side of the large doorway. “Dana!” Evelyn ran over and gave the other girl a big, bouncy hug. “It’s always so exciting to see you again! I can’t wait to show you my beautiful new skis—just imagine skis as sexy as that visiting Norwegian instructor we had two years ago…” Evelyn winked at Dana and couldn’t suppress a giggle. “Oh!” Evelyn quickly remembered the creaking step outside and interrupted Dana who had just opened her mouth to reply, “One of the steps out front creaked a little when I was coming in just now. I think it might need to be replaced. And be sure to have it checked for termites too, just in case.” She eyed the wooden floorboards suspiciously. “And maybe have the foundation checked too…”

22 year old Evelyn Thorp is both exceedingly cute, and obsessively paranoid about just about everything. She's been rich her whole life and can ski quite well (just about the only thing she's not paranoid about is herself!). She's got brown hair, a little longer than shoulder-length, and usually up in a ponytail to keep it out of her matching clear brown eyes. Despite suspecting the worst about everything, she manages to be very cheerful, nonetheless.

Since the deadline's probably getting close and I've still got another day to get through, this is just a placeholder post...I'll be playing; character still to come!

Nearly naked, nine naughty nurses never noticed Nimornril nearby...

Meh...a quasi-active seer doesn't carry much influence... :/ I had to go with the wolf I 'knew' for the last vote, but clearly the wolves were already pretty safe, given the IC events

Thanks for the advice from those who gave it. Here's a mildly revised version. He stood at the edge of despair, marveling at the steady current of air blowing against his emotionless face from the dusty rocks far below. It produced the thrilling sensation that he was already moving downwards, falling through the cool evening air. He closed his eyes and looked up out of the deep pit of his mind; the dark earthen walls conceded only the fading gash of light far above, where the jagged black silhouette of the edge seemed to move ever inwards. Dirt began to trickle down, covering him in filth and burying thoughts and memories that clawed frantically at the sides unable to climb and escape. His consciousness blinked and he stood frozen, the forms of hundreds swirling past him in all directions, unnoticing, uncaring. He yearned to shout at them all, his mind screaming but his lungs as vacant as his infected heart. Gasping for breath, suffocating under the heavy layers of his own doubt, he wondered when this had happened. When had he been left behind, aching for attention without thought for well being? Confusion is ubiquitous and at last, solitude manifest. Naked and exposed, the heart aches to burst and destroy the festering sickness contained therein, but his mind knows better. Dreams, crushed into delicate shards littering the warped floor, draw blood from his bare feet as he takes a step. The darkness rushes in around him, tearing at his face, his clothes, his heart. His eyes fly open and he falters, tripping backwards over a small rock, half buried behind his left foot. Regret works both ways.

Behind that pretty face of hers, Niab suspected there lay a secret. He sat, hunched down with his back planted firmly against the cool, rough wall, and observed her in the adjoining chamber, his azure eyes unblinking. For three nights now his reflexes had been on edge—an instinct for survival and a need to protect. There simply wasn’t time to get caught up in the urgency; action is what the few that were left needed. He reached behind his back and effortlessly pushed himself upright again. She had caused nothing but trouble so far, that much seemed obvious now. From the day he had first seen her, she had exuded incompetence and downright ignorance, to a degree perhaps too great to be believable. Sure, she had even managed to cloud his thoughts through her dangerous game with Chakyakha, something for which Niab still mentally scolded himself. For once he found wisps of sympathy for the other Fremen drift through his mind, fleeting though they were, for apparently having been unable to retain his own senses in the seriousness of the situation. Niab had not misinterpreted his Sichana’s death, tragic though it had been. You have to know whom you’re protecting before you forget about protecting yourself. Selflessness wasn’t always a virtue—of this he was sure. The sound of approaching voices from a tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern registered in his ears, and with a final apprehensive glance towards Fleur, he set off in search of his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen in a while. Perhaps she might have some helpful information. OOC: Vote for Fleur.

OOC: I'd really like to get this vote extended, at least like half a day or something. The past 24 hours have been very rough (arma on The Reincarnation, if you're inclined to understand that ). Got a meeting with my thesis advisor in a few mins, so this is my quick placeholder vote: Vote for Jammilla.

OOC: Written along with Gwai After walking for several minutes Niab met nobody else, and only vaguely paid attention to where he was going. It wasn’t until he looked up that he found himself looking at Chakyakha, the only other occupant of the small rock alcove where Niab had ended up. For a moment, Niab and Chakyakha simply looked at one another, blue eyes staring grudgingly back and forth, until Niab finally opened his mouth, “I can protect Rahnia from any enemy, I can! Anywhere…and Harkonnen or not…” Despite what he said, Niab knew good and well that Chakyakha probably wouldn’t have claimed otherwise to anyone other than perhaps Niab himself, and especially not to Rahnia. “And what makes you think I can’t do better, Niab?” Chakyakha’s face showed a distinct and deep-rooted dislike for the other Fremen, yet both of them betrayed a certain fundamental respect for one another. “You know, she’s a lot like her mother used to be.” The unspoken accusation prompted Niab to grit his teeth, “Well, maybe you should be more interested in helping us find out who’s the Harkonnen weasel among us instead of chasing that….Fleur around all the time!” That tinge of jealousy returned again, however, and he scowled, more to himself than Chakyakha, for being jealous at all because of an offworlder like Fleur. Chakyakha sighed. "See, that's the problem with you all, so quick to jump to conclusions and now you think I should be too. Fleur's wonderful--why should I accuse someone of being a spy when I really don't know. Give me a couple days and when I know who did it I'll kill them myself." "You don't have a couple days" said Niab dryly. "Well, look where we got by accusing the drunk! I was pretty suspicious too but a lot of good that did. Of course I don't thik Rahnia is a Harkonen--she's a Fremen, but still I would like to know the details. Maybe she had a lover and he did hear her voice. He could be wrong without being guilty...or he could be a Harkonnen trying to make even the Fremen not trust each other. Don't forget you are the one who jumped in and killed all of Sichana's attackers the first time. Maybe if you had questioned them then you would have found out that there was a second wave.

Niab sighed as he leaned against the rock face behind him, keenly aware that his daughter was talking to Chakyakha across the cavern from where he stood. He felt a mix of emotions, among which he was surprised to find both jealousy and gratitude. Jealous Rahnia wasn’t there next to her own father, and yet a strange gratitude—a respect of sorts—for Chakyakha. Niab knew that in reality his daughter was probably safer near him than most of the other temporary inhabitants of the sietch. Feeling the need to stretch his legs and not really wanting to stay where Rahnia and Chakyakha were in sight, Niab decided to go for a walk. He passed a few of the others in the passageways, noting the strained nods or muted greetings they would give. It was with genuine shock that he had heard from one of them that Ibis had been spreading the accusation of Rahnia of being a Harkonnen agent! With great constraint that he had simply continued walking, forcibly ignoring the urge yell at the offworlder for even considering that Rahnia might be allied with the Harkonnens. OOC: Vote for Ibis.

Azuran blinked rapidly, caught completely off guard. What had at first seemed to be perhaps just an odd dream (or nightmare…he still couldn’t get that vile taste out of his mouth…) now seemed quite real. His brain, still half asleep, was slowly able to register a few things, however, and his mind pieced together what had happened to get him into the current scenario. Floating….Wyvern…a horrible taste…a new page in Wyvern’s book..!! Ack! What could I have done wrong to deserve this!? His momentary panic subsided as he became aware that the others gathering around looked cheerful and happy—not angry or fearful for his wellbeing. Stifling a yawn and reflexively displaying a quizzical grin, he found himself being… congratulated? He returned Ayshela’s hug, and almost couldn’t contain the joy in the sudden realization that he clearly hadn’t done anything wrong, but rather must have done something...not wrong! “Thanks, Ayshela and Regel! And I guess you too, Wyv…even if you did kidnap me and trick me into drinking that…” Azuran shuddered, even just thinking about that Almost Dragonic Brand beverage brought the taste back… OOC: Thanks so much! I was perfectly happy as an Initiate, and now I’m perfectly happier as a Page!

Niab had no idea who could possibly be the Harkonnen, but he was sure about one thing: he would do everything he could to protect himself and his daughter. And he had always been excellent at protecting people, except for Sichana that once...but that had been very different. He frowned, suddenly. Despite all his fighting prowess, he couldn’t defeat an unknown enemy, and so in his mind he simply pictured the one who annoyed him the most. That Chakyakha always had managed to be so irritating. OOC: Quick vote for Chakyakha