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You Will Need to Meet My Gaze
Kodaza
Los Angeles
No need for preamble here. Let's jump right in!
Cage of Despair.
------ v64824 -------
The bars of this rounded cage have been constructed of a jagged jade glass that dark, misty shapes seem to flicker through periodically. The only break in color in this cage is the wrought iron archways that create the corridors between each enclosure. A fountain of the same twisted material rises up from the centre of the chamber, a thick viscous fluid trickling from the apex of the fountain, which is shaped to represent twined vipers. The fluid spreads into a deep pool around the base of the fountain, threatening to spill over and onto the floor. A funereal duskywing butterfly flutters here, dark wings creating a jade mist. An enormous dust-covered mirror stands imposingly against the wall, its glass surface offering no reflective properties whatsoever.
You see exits leading northeast, east, and southeast.
The surroundings appear to brighten as an ethereal duskywing butterfly slowly wings its way northeast.
A piercing scream heralds the arrival of a cacophony of duskywing butterflies that quickly coalesce into the form of Chakrasul.
As the screaming dies down, Chakrasul's bare feet carry Her immediately forward and towards you. Though, She passes you to perch on the edge of the fountain, the thick, red fluid immediately staining the white of Her dress and crawling across the fabric. Perched, the Goddess slides Her eyes to you, "Mine."
You have emoted: Pacing the cage idly, Kodaza immediately lowers her head to bow. She positions herself on her knees, her seven eyes distracted by the spreading stain on Chakrasul's dress. She fixates on it for safety, following it with her eyes to avoid making an incorrect motion. The focus of her attention leads her to bow even lower as her head drops.
"Head up," Chakrasul demands as She reaches forward to grab your chin and force you to look up at Her, "Revere Me, yes. But moving forward, you will need to meet My gaze so I can see the truth in your words," She pauses, perhaps for dramatics or perhaps to contemplate Her choice once more. Then, she simply applies some pressure to the mortal flesh between Her fingers, finishing with, "Voice of Corruption."
You have emoted: There is a disconnect in the halves of Kodaza's face, in her eyes. The one humanoid eye widens in surprise, while the six insect eyes regard Chakrasul with a colder, calculating glow. With a sharp intake of breath she rolls her shoulders, squaring them beneath her fur to straighten her back. "Rijetta," she says nonsensically, as if to herself.
"Was My Champion. Never My Voice," Chakrasul croons as Her grip softens and She begins to caress your cheek with the back of Her fingers. The familiar bite of a phantom pain is coupled with the endearing gesture, the stinging sensation that your skin is decaying radiating away from any point of contact. "You still have much growing to do. As My Voice, you will be forced to come out of your shell and represent Me so the rest of Sapience can see such devotion. Admire it. Be in awe of it." Her voice drops. Darker. Haunting. "Want it." Her free hand clenches into a tight fist and the butterflies flitting around Her begin to flap their wings harder. Faster. As if Her emotional state is feeding their energy.
You have emoted: Kodaza's breathing quickens, her fur rustling with the movement of her chest
beneath it. Her fingers move towards the pain in her skin, as if trying to brush at it. Impossibly.
"The first time I spoke to her, when I had been in the congregation only some odd hours. She told me she saw me as Voice. I didn't believe her." She opens her mouth to say something else, but her expression continues shifting as she feels Corruption empower her. "A young mistake," she says, the tone of her voice dismissive of that younger weakness. "They will see You in me. In Duiran, in Enorian."
"I know," Chakrasul whispers as She leans forward to plant a kiss to your forehead. The pain is
excruciating now, as if the more She dotes, the worse it becomes. Malice. "You will not disappoint Me like My last Voice did," She murmurs against the skin that actually IS decaying, Her breath cold and reeking of death and decay. Finally, the contact is broken and the Goddess leans back, Her hands also withdrawing to rise together, palms up, "Your gift, My Voice. Give it time and they will grow in value to you. If that is possible." Jade and black flames spark to life in the cup of Her hands and, after a crackling display of cold fire, they are quickly extinguished. Instead of smoke floating away from the robes now in Her hands, there is duskywing butterflies.
You are holding:
"robes32042" robes of Corruption.
These robes are made from the finest Luzith silk and dyed to an onyx hue. They seem to be single piece of material, likely having to be pulled over the head in order to be worn. A hood is attached just behind where the robes would rest at the shoulders, wide enough to easily engulf the head when lifted. At the front of the robe, on the neckline, is a single pendant in the shape of a pentacle. Jade and silver strips of matching silk material line all of the hems, adding a bit of decoration to the otherwise plain attire. The sleeves are wide, allowing a fair amount of movement, matching the rest of the billowing material.
Robes of Corruption looks weak and feeble.
It can be worn in the following locations:
fullbody overtorso
He weighs 1 ounce(s).
In one swift motion, you quickly remove all of your clothes.
You have emoted: Tears flow from Kodaza's eye in response to the pain, but she does not seem to notice. There is girlish excitement and uncontained glee on her face as she bounces to her feet, cooing over the robes as though she found them under a Celesmas tree. Quickly she undresses, standing naked before Chakrasul, though her body's fur and feathers shows a natural modesty, her features hidden even when unclothed. She slips the robes on over her head, and begins to adjust her fur through the neckline to fit the pentacle.
You are now wearing robes of Corruption.
You feel a strong connection to the robes as they slip onto you, sensing that they recognize you as one of Hers at the highest.
As the jade motes of light begin to float towards the bottom of the miniature cage, they coalesce into the form of the metaphysical butterfly and it begins to flit lazily within its enclosure.
Reaching forward, Chakrasul grabs the hood and lifts it over your head, "A perfect fit." She
comments as She drags a critical eye over you, "Ever downwards, My Voice," the demure Divine
whispers on that dark, seductive voice and, just as She begins to unravel, Her fangs are revealed behind a wicked smile, "Serve Me well." Her last words echo around you, even after She has gone.
Shattering into thousands of duskywing butterflies, Chakrasul's body unravels and as the last insect leaves, no trace of the Goddess remains.
The very air seems to sigh forlornly as an ethereal duskywing butterfly floats somberly in from the east.
Cage of Might.
------ v64822 -------
The blackened bars if this cage have been decorated elaborately with spiral carvings from the base of the enclosure to its rounded peak. The floor itself seems to be a black marble with veins of jade throughout it. Tapestries have been hung at random intervals, each depicting scenes of well-known figures taking what they want during wars and events throughout the ages. Beyond that, there is little other decoration; a reminder that might does not require elaboration. A funereal duskywing butterfly flutters here, dark wings creating a jade mist. Carved into the ground is a jade pentacle that glows with eerie light.
The dim echo of priests chanting reaches your ears, sending a cold shiver down your spine.
You say, "I serve on Her Triad."
Recognising you as one of the Triad, the pentacle pulses brightly before a familiar, jade essence begins to crawl up your body.
The essence of Corruption fully covers your body before melting you away into nothingness.
Even before you have finished reforming, you know that you have been shifted into the comfort of the familiar agency.
Swelling with might, you roll your shoulders and strand straighter as you feel corruption strengthen you.
Cage of Despair.
------ v64824 -------
The bars of this rounded cage have been constructed of a jagged jade glass that dark, misty shapes seem to flicker through periodically. The only break in color in this cage is the wrought iron archways that create the corridors between each enclosure. A fountain of the same twisted material rises up from the centre of the chamber, a thick viscous fluid trickling from the apex of the fountain, which is shaped to represent twined vipers. The fluid spreads into a deep pool around the base of the fountain, threatening to spill over and onto the floor. A funereal duskywing butterfly flutters here, dark wings creating a jade mist. An enormous dust-covered mirror stands imposingly against the wall, its glass surface offering no reflective properties whatsoever.
You see exits leading northeast, east, and southeast.
The surroundings appear to brighten as an ethereal duskywing butterfly slowly wings its way northeast.
A piercing scream heralds the arrival of a cacophony of duskywing butterflies that quickly coalesce into the form of Chakrasul.
As the screaming dies down, Chakrasul's bare feet carry Her immediately forward and towards you. Though, She passes you to perch on the edge of the fountain, the thick, red fluid immediately staining the white of Her dress and crawling across the fabric. Perched, the Goddess slides Her eyes to you, "Mine."
You have emoted: Pacing the cage idly, Kodaza immediately lowers her head to bow. She positions herself on her knees, her seven eyes distracted by the spreading stain on Chakrasul's dress. She fixates on it for safety, following it with her eyes to avoid making an incorrect motion. The focus of her attention leads her to bow even lower as her head drops.
"Head up," Chakrasul demands as She reaches forward to grab your chin and force you to look up at Her, "Revere Me, yes. But moving forward, you will need to meet My gaze so I can see the truth in your words," She pauses, perhaps for dramatics or perhaps to contemplate Her choice once more. Then, she simply applies some pressure to the mortal flesh between Her fingers, finishing with, "Voice of Corruption."
You have emoted: There is a disconnect in the halves of Kodaza's face, in her eyes. The one humanoid eye widens in surprise, while the six insect eyes regard Chakrasul with a colder, calculating glow. With a sharp intake of breath she rolls her shoulders, squaring them beneath her fur to straighten her back. "Rijetta," she says nonsensically, as if to herself.
"Was My Champion. Never My Voice," Chakrasul croons as Her grip softens and She begins to caress your cheek with the back of Her fingers. The familiar bite of a phantom pain is coupled with the endearing gesture, the stinging sensation that your skin is decaying radiating away from any point of contact. "You still have much growing to do. As My Voice, you will be forced to come out of your shell and represent Me so the rest of Sapience can see such devotion. Admire it. Be in awe of it." Her voice drops. Darker. Haunting. "Want it." Her free hand clenches into a tight fist and the butterflies flitting around Her begin to flap their wings harder. Faster. As if Her emotional state is feeding their energy.
You have emoted: Kodaza's breathing quickens, her fur rustling with the movement of her chest
beneath it. Her fingers move towards the pain in her skin, as if trying to brush at it. Impossibly.
"The first time I spoke to her, when I had been in the congregation only some odd hours. She told me she saw me as Voice. I didn't believe her." She opens her mouth to say something else, but her expression continues shifting as she feels Corruption empower her. "A young mistake," she says, the tone of her voice dismissive of that younger weakness. "They will see You in me. In Duiran, in Enorian."
"I know," Chakrasul whispers as She leans forward to plant a kiss to your forehead. The pain is
excruciating now, as if the more She dotes, the worse it becomes. Malice. "You will not disappoint Me like My last Voice did," She murmurs against the skin that actually IS decaying, Her breath cold and reeking of death and decay. Finally, the contact is broken and the Goddess leans back, Her hands also withdrawing to rise together, palms up, "Your gift, My Voice. Give it time and they will grow in value to you. If that is possible." Jade and black flames spark to life in the cup of Her hands and, after a crackling display of cold fire, they are quickly extinguished. Instead of smoke floating away from the robes now in Her hands, there is duskywing butterflies.
You are holding:
"robes32042" robes of Corruption.
These robes are made from the finest Luzith silk and dyed to an onyx hue. They seem to be single piece of material, likely having to be pulled over the head in order to be worn. A hood is attached just behind where the robes would rest at the shoulders, wide enough to easily engulf the head when lifted. At the front of the robe, on the neckline, is a single pendant in the shape of a pentacle. Jade and silver strips of matching silk material line all of the hems, adding a bit of decoration to the otherwise plain attire. The sleeves are wide, allowing a fair amount of movement, matching the rest of the billowing material.
Robes of Corruption looks weak and feeble.
It can be worn in the following locations:
fullbody overtorso
He weighs 1 ounce(s).
In one swift motion, you quickly remove all of your clothes.
You have emoted: Tears flow from Kodaza's eye in response to the pain, but she does not seem to notice. There is girlish excitement and uncontained glee on her face as she bounces to her feet, cooing over the robes as though she found them under a Celesmas tree. Quickly she undresses, standing naked before Chakrasul, though her body's fur and feathers shows a natural modesty, her features hidden even when unclothed. She slips the robes on over her head, and begins to adjust her fur through the neckline to fit the pentacle.
You are now wearing robes of Corruption.
You feel a strong connection to the robes as they slip onto you, sensing that they recognize you as one of Hers at the highest.
As the jade motes of light begin to float towards the bottom of the miniature cage, they coalesce into the form of the metaphysical butterfly and it begins to flit lazily within its enclosure.
Reaching forward, Chakrasul grabs the hood and lifts it over your head, "A perfect fit." She
comments as She drags a critical eye over you, "Ever downwards, My Voice," the demure Divine
whispers on that dark, seductive voice and, just as She begins to unravel, Her fangs are revealed behind a wicked smile, "Serve Me well." Her last words echo around you, even after She has gone.
Shattering into thousands of duskywing butterflies, Chakrasul's body unravels and as the last insect leaves, no trace of the Goddess remains.
The very air seems to sigh forlornly as an ethereal duskywing butterfly floats somberly in from the east.
Cage of Might.
------ v64822 -------
The blackened bars if this cage have been decorated elaborately with spiral carvings from the base of the enclosure to its rounded peak. The floor itself seems to be a black marble with veins of jade throughout it. Tapestries have been hung at random intervals, each depicting scenes of well-known figures taking what they want during wars and events throughout the ages. Beyond that, there is little other decoration; a reminder that might does not require elaboration. A funereal duskywing butterfly flutters here, dark wings creating a jade mist. Carved into the ground is a jade pentacle that glows with eerie light.
The dim echo of priests chanting reaches your ears, sending a cold shiver down your spine.
You say, "I serve on Her Triad."
Recognising you as one of the Triad, the pentacle pulses brightly before a familiar, jade essence begins to crawl up your body.
The essence of Corruption fully covers your body before melting you away into nothingness.
Even before you have finished reforming, you know that you have been shifted into the comfort of the familiar agency.
Swelling with might, you roll your shoulders and strand straighter as you feel corruption strengthen you.
10