Canvas

[Trips 344]

muh_immersion.mp3 

 

Canvas

 

 

Hundreds of feet above the sea level, a lone figure gazed over a flourishing valley riddled in leafy hues of green of the forest, sprinkled with thousands of flowers filling the fields that gradually steepened into what could only be described as unscalable mountainside, only to be met by the vast beginning of the ocean on its opposite side.. The graceful, if not peaceful yet saturated view was painted upon his eyes as he stared into the horizon, the only thing that could’ve ruined the view were the undeniable presence of the clouds. The clouds, through which several beams of sunlight stabbed through, the clouds seemed to have almost stopped in place as if pinned upon the ceiling of Athera. But it was beautiful, the vibrant colours dazzling in the spots that sun did reach; though it didn’t reach him, the one delving within his own mind. Numerous pillars of stone looming around the lone mali, presumably ancient from the way they were crumbling under their old age. It was a ruin that had been there since before the ages of Aegis, the ancient fort that had relentlessly fought against the grasp of time, perhaps with the aid provided by its inhabitants that were hardly ever seen. He stood, almost perching over the chasm’s edge as a gentle wind produced by the sea licked his face from the west; regardless, the air was stale.

 

A little blue-grey there, and a bit darker green over there, long and short strokes in succession, gentle brush after another, he painted the view upon a pure white canvas. It was the gloomy, yet so calm a view - what else would there have been to paint. His mouth was as dry as the middle of Deus Proditor, as he produced a click - toungue flicking against his palate;

“Tch!”

He grunted in dissatisfaction, as the strands of hair in his paintbrush inexplicably twisted upon eachother, rendering it useless. His annoyance made his gaze stray from the view it had been fixed on, finally making him notice what had been slowly yet surely happening around him. Most certainly, the clouds were spiraling above the ruined fort, freakish hues of indigo merging in the puffy veil. He stared at the sky, that seemed irrational. It simply made no sense for such an unnatural storm to suddenly brew, and not a single droplet of rain had drizzled down either.

 

Suddenly, a gust of wind slammed down from the sky, washing over the mali. A single swoosh that had been lurking above fell over him in an instant, and the mali dropped down on his knees.

“Haah!”

He would scream in agony, as an overwhelming presence surged through his veins and his very being, blackening the former into a traceable, incarnate painting over his body. Only a few seconds after, he would feel something crawling up his throat, only to muffle the scream that had escaped his wide open jaw. In a single gurle, he puked out a splatter of black goop over the canvas, the echoes of his own scream still ringing through his ears as the valley answered to it’s call. The scream that pierced through the air could've probably been heard all the way in the nearby town. His eyes could show nothing but darkness for a short span of time, until finally the image cleared up again as the power surging through him adjusted to its new host. The canvas was still in front of him, though pitch black, with nothing but a sickly red, four-pointed star painted upon its surface.

 

In a second he understood exactly what Trevor and Haskal had gone through, and managed to kept sealed within themselves. It was the power of Ikuras, transferring from the old Kknotos to the new. He blinked in daze as everything returned to normal. The usual silence of the fort shrouding it again, and the clouds seemed as depressing as usually. The body that now contained a new gift, also regained it’s original state, at least visually. The lone figure was left staring at the black canvas held up by the easel, wondering if he had ever even painted anything else upon it. He glances down to the valley once more from the spot he had decided to paint at, departing the ruins - leaving them silent again.

 

 

OOC: Yo yo yo, i'm the new kknotos whassuuuup? ..and with this, the seat of Vorrul is open. Also sorry for my weird style and all the possible typos and grammatical errors, pls dont rek me for them this is probs my first proper rp post

[Mj. 697]

((What is the location?))

[Heero 4092]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.