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Khalimandaria

"I shall bring justice upon the wicked, and punishment to those who object."

0 · 462 views · located in Dreamscape

a character in “Scattered Dreams, Fragmented Unreality”, as played by Ezarael

Description

Khalimandaria


Image

Credit for both angelic images
Name:
Derrick Sandoval

Inner Self's Name: Khalimandaria (Any derivative of the name should suffice to draw the being’s attention)

Type of Dreamer: Normal Dreamer

Age: Seemingly mid- to late- twenties

Gender: Undetermined, but more feminine than not.

Appearance: Most first impressions of Khalimandaria tend to hover near towering, imposing, somewhat awe-inspiring when its wings are fully spread forth, and even debatably alluring to those who might be inclined to see it in such a manner. This being stands at a height of seven feet, with a body which leans more towards slenderness than anything, with curvature in certain areas that suggest a hint of femininity, an opinion that Khalimandaria does not altogether seem to share. What makes this area of physical definition somewhat more would be Khalimandaria’s particular set of armor, which is rather tight-fitting on the inside but “bubbled” somewhat on the outside, creating a blur as to what truly creates the supposed feminine curvature. The armor itself appears rather ornate and more for decorative purposes than any actual application, what with large ruby-red gems adorning its surface as the metal elaborately swirls and overlays. The helmet itself is positioned in such a way as to merely reveal the barest portion of Khalimandaria’s nose and bright, full lips, whose bright coloration stands out very distinctively in comparison to pale cheeks and gentle jaw structure. Somehow the lack of any discernible opening from which eyes may gaze seem not to hinder the being’s ability to navigate the world without hindrance. Majestic wings span fourteen feet in all, with an implied delicacy belied by their full-bodied plumage, appearing more than capable of carrying their owner up and into the heavens.

Theme Song: [url=Youtube Link]Song Title Here[/url] (this is optional)

Personality: If one were to judge by appearances Khalimandaria might appear self-righteous, judgmental, over-bearing, and harsh, which could all be considered applicable, to varying degrees, in this situation. It would describe itself as to having justice and righteousness at the forefront of their mind, putting themselves in the place of the proverbial judge, jury, and executioner above all those around them whether the occasion should arise or not. While this may seem to be an honorable cause to many Khalimandaria’s attitude can be downright belligerent and narrow-minded in the least, taking very little into consideration besides what was witnessed or even weakest of accusations depending upon the gravity of the time. Assuming the role of, or merely seizing it to be more earnest, protector also seems quite natural to them, as their desire to shield those they deem weak or easily abused stirs a fire down to the very depths of their being. This can become rather suffocating for the “shielded” individual as Khalimandaria is quick to jump in and take control of a situation in order to do what they consider best for the situation.

While this particular entity appears to strive for the fair dispensation of justice to those in need of its cold comfort or harsh bite, the alacrity with which it metes out with a debatable degree of harshness and overly-ample measures of punishment with little consideration as to the situation suggests a much darker side to Khalimandaria. Any perceived injustice committed against children and women seem to bring the greatest severity in retribution meted out by Khalimandaria’s blade, which happens to be the preferred tool of justice for the most part. It might be safe to presume that a seething rage smoldering beneath a usually calm demeanor, so calm so as to prove rather disturbing and cold at times. At times you can observe a deliberate refusal to acknowledge the truth of a situation, seeming as if the angelic being desires to inflict pain more so than bring justice to the world.

This one tends to be rather terse in terms of conversation, preferring to avoid idle chatter used to fill space, but is not overly-so as to be considered unsociable when it comes time to converse with another being. Khalimandaria tends to be much less friendlier with men than women or children in general, turning a much colder than usual shoulder to most, if not the entirety, of the gender, the reason for this is rather uncertain, or at the least left unsaid by the being. This is where most of the latent aggression and “ice-cold” tendencies of the being seem to be directed for the most part, and conversing with a male is only done if completely necessary. It is not unwarranted to chance upon displays of affection and warmth though, even if their occurrence be isolated in appearance, and at times even going so far as to seem overly-gentle given the right circumstances.

Image Abilities:
Pulse I: Khalimandaria’s one pulse derives from harnessing the essence of her being into a tangible form, with the ability to manipulate it in several different fashions, as a blast of energy or an aura conjured around weapon or body. What this one is not aware of however is the actual source of this power, the negative quintessence hiding beneath the perceived virtue and purity of their actions, and with every use of this power it slowly eats away at Khalimandaria’s being. The consequences of this being that the supposedly just and righteous self is being whittled away, exposing the inherent corruption of its flawed character, the light emitted from the culmination of this energy has begun to dim and darken whilst the armor has slowly began rotting away and the previously brilliant wings have started to thin and darken as well. Whether Khalimandaria’s ignorance to this change is due to its gradual-nature, denial, or delusion is uncertain, but it might become ever more apparent to another given the right length of exposure to their presence.

Image
History

Whether a life stripped of any potential from the get-go is damaging to the psyche is a subjective determination to say the least, and if these effects are existent at all are determined on a case to case basis, whether that is a possibility or not. This changes not what circumstances brought upon the life of Derrick Sandoval since birth, and that they changed him into something he might not have been otherwise should be considered undeniable. Maybe Derrick was a broke-being before he was brought forth from the womb, through some happenstance of fate, and was merely dealt a hand in life required a mettle more-so than he could muster with such rapidity. The truth be told, this changes nothing of where he has ended up either or what effect that has upon the telling of his life-story, leaving all that remains to be told at the time only the story itself. Being born with the innocence possessed by most, if not all, children, Derrick found life enjoyable and full of adventure at the start of his journey, playing with the other children who lived on the block with the reality of the poverty enveloping the surrounding area as the last thought to ever cross their mind in the day. He was full of life and happy, even when his favorite Uncle John would come to visit and play with him alone, the true purpose of his visitations and ministrations of both exuberant generosity and amiability unknown to the child. How was he to know what plans his parents had for him, that when they said it was okay for the older man to touch him in uncomfortable places, were the indications of more sinister times to come?
Image
As he grew older it did seem strange how his parents were able to afford to move to a new house, all the while continuing in their previous employment, with no overt changes in income, but Uncle John began to visit ever more, with their play-times lengthening and growing continually more uncomfortable for the young boy. By the age of ten Derrick had been removed from public schooling, having private tutoring provided at the home, and he had been, for all intents and purposes, barred from leaving the house, having his time outside restricted to the backyard and for merely one hour per day. That was the year Derrick was first raped by Uncle John, or was forced to service the man and reimburse his untold liberality with concerns to finances prior to this year. There was nothing he could do, his screams went unanswered for the hour they spent in his room , and tears long spent by the time those sixty minutes, thirty-six hundred excruciating seconds lasted. This arrangement continued without change for years, at least the length of time per reimbursement did not change, but the number of occasions seen by Uncle John occurred practically every day by the time Derrick turned fifteen. Twenty-five thousand, two hundred seconds spent every week spent with Uncle John as repayment for his untold kindness to the family, and Derrick had stopped struggling long before that time came about. He had given up expecting any explanation from his parents or sought any form of cold comfort from unwilling arms, and he had nearly given up on what others refer to as reality by the time this era had arrived.

They never saw it coming, not Uncle John or his parents, not a one noticed the knife he had snuck away from the dishes one evening, the knife he used to bring justice upon their ignorant souls. Uncle John was the easiest to overcome, the man was always in an exhausted daze after finishing with Derrick, he would always turn around after zipping up his pants, spending copious amounts of precious time reassembling his garb and combing his hair. The details of his murder are too numerous to recount at this time, but Derrick felt that Uncle John died much to quickly to account for the innumerable seconds of pain and suffering inflicted upon his own body. It was surprising how long it took for his parents to come upstairs and see what had happened, he could never figure out exactly why, maybe the room was sound-proofed to protect their delicate ears from his screaming at a younger age, or maybe they just figured that Uncle John had decided to lengthen his time upstairs, maybe it was some combination of both, but it mattered not to the young man. He made sure they passed just as slowly as did Uncle John. Derrick did not keep track of how long it took for the police to finally arrive and break down the doors; he had long ago finished his work on the bodies after the fact, and by then had retracted into himself for quite some time. They decided that the teenaged Derrick was mentally unstable, and he was transferred to an Asylum at the trail’s conclusion. It was some four years later that he drifted off into “the slumber,” bringing for the birth of Khalimandaria.

So begins...

Khalimandaria's Story

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Character Portrait: Khalimandaria
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#, as written by Ezarael
Khalimandaria



The being was uncertain as to how it had come to this ruinous city littered with the debris of some chaos, yet whether this had occurred recently or eons past was of irrelevance, this world seemed to abide by no strictures concerning time nor distance for that matter. Khalimandaria had been wandering, as it was wont to do, searching for those who needed the strength of another to seek out justice for the wicked and vile beings which roamed haphazardly across this indefinable plain of existence. A forest darkened by the steely-grip of night had been its place of birth, or whatever you might call the coming about of a being in this realm, and eventually Khalimandaria found itself roaming lands cluttered with all manner of children’s toys, eventually coming to his place now. How long this journey took mattered not, nor did the distance covered during that interim, in fact it seemed no single arbitrary concept of which this being had knowledge could be considered of any significance here.

It felt like something had brought it to this place, had drawn its attention enough to warrant this current trek over the remnants of a city whose foundation laid heaped into piles of rubble, for even though this one did wander about the ever-metamorphosing landscape its destination was never aimless. There was always a reason for this one to travel, even if that reason was not readily apparent or seemingly worthwhile for there always seemed to be justice to dispense upon those once Khalimandaria arrived. Some would fight, others would run, but no matter what course of action they decided upon they would beg for reprieve from the punishment they deserved, referring to the provider of their just-rewards in all manner of way, as man or woman, or whatever obscenity crossed their depraved minds.

Khalimandaria always felt it was strange to be referred to definitively as either of the genders for it felt not any particular connection to either, despite taking note of the somewhat strong arguments posed by those whom would refer to their punisher as a woman. Maybe this one’s visage did resemble a woman somewhat, what with the delicate jaw and full, red lips, among other corporeal aspects, but did that make this being a her? Being referred by name was all the was required from those who deserved to utilize it, but it mattered not what title any other might refer to Khalimandaria by as judgment was being meted out upon their deserving being.

Beautiful, brilliant wings beat slowly, their powerful rhythm sending gusts of wind coursing through the air, dispersing smoke which fogged this one’s vision, but also fanning any haphazard flames which might be lingering in the area. The dust, mingled with ash and smoke, stung this one’s nostrils with each inhalation of the putrid concoction formulated by whatever circumstance had brought this place to its destruction, leaving the landscape devoid of any other signs of life. Was it an explosion? If this one remembered correctly it did believe that it was drawn to this area by the sight of a massive explosion, and this one wanted to determine for whatever reason this had happened in the first place. If it was the act of the villainous sort then it would only be just to bring punishment upon those who commit such a heinous act, if that was not the case then this one would merely go about to roaming the strange world in which it resided again.

There were so many things about this world that defied reason, at least what Khalimandaria considered to be reason, but how could justice be served so efficiently in a world which defied logic? Distances which one would presume necessitated a lengthy period of travel seemed to only need the blink of an eye to cover, the landscape metamorphosed from one curiosity to another with seamless ease, time made not a whit of difference in the course of events, and the beings which inhabited this world were capable of performing wondrous, or diabolical, feats with little to no effort. As far as this one knew this world was everything that any should be, life could be extremely easy and justice just a quick, for whatever the definition of time meant here. It was obvious that this one’s preconceptions over how things were supposed to make sense were complete and utter constructions formulated from an incompetent mind, at least it was not incompetent insomuch as justice was concerned.

Khalimandaria let its mind and body rest for the time being, whenever it began musing in such ways something seemed to weigh heavily upon its essence, as if wondering about such concepts would only lead away from enlightenment. The being decided to find a small clearing, away from all the rubble and debris of this ruinous city, and sat down against a tree, feeling what seemed to be the weight of the world releasing from its shoulders in a matter of seconds. It leaned back and waited, it was sure that it could make some sense of what had happened here sooner or later, whatever meaning that phrase might hold to this one, and let its breathing soften. This was definitely a world worthy of this one’s presence and it worthy of this world.

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#, as written by Ezarael
Khalimandaria



When had it grown dark in this fascinating realm of endless possibility and better yet, when had Khalimandaria fallen asleep, just to awaken to this darkness? Maybe asking about when these things had happened was of little significance, given the circumstances of existence, and that the why was a much better question to ponder. Why had darkness descended upon this one’s form, and why had it fallen asleep? As to the latter, Khalimandaria was clueless as to why it slept, or what seemed like the act of sleep, at seemingly random intervals during its periods of wandering for it seemed like such a silly and useless action which did not aid in the deliverance of justice by one iota. As to the former question though, why did darkness descend upon this being, was much stranger and elusive, it was something it had difficulty understanding at times, even as to its own cluelessness.

The darkness always seemed to follow Khalimandaria as decidedly as this being pursued the wicked and villainous that deserved to have righteous punishment served upon their ever-deserving forms. At first the darkness had always come upon it in such a gradual manner as to seem nigh indiscernible to the naked eye, sometimes taking . . . what felt like long periods of time to fully envelop the angel of justice. It had been steadily growing in rapidity though, the length of time shortening drastically as this one continued their journey through this endless world, and it this shortening of time always seemed to occur when justice was being dispensed upon the wicked. Khalimandaria felt the darkness was born from the wickedness of punished souls, with divine retribution cleansing them of the taint that would then seep into the world of the walking.

As this one began to bring itself up from its seated position, leaning its weight ever so slightly to one side and using its sheathed blade as a slight form of leverage, a brilliant, white aura began to envelop Khalimandaria’s body, expanding ever so slowly until forming a semi-sphere some five-feet in diameter. The light began fading slowly, its assuring warmth leaving just as quickly, and when this one looked again the darkness had fully dissipated, as it always did once this bringer of justice brought forth its pure, cleansing light into the world. This light was always the tide-breaker in concerns to the ongoing onslaught of wickedness that assailed this world, it was the condensation of all that was pure in the world, and Khalimandaria was its conjurer, able to bring the corporeal essence of purity into the world and use it for its righteous purposes.

When this one looked around, all that it could see was a wondrous rolling plain, covered in blankets of vibrant, green grass as far as the eye could see, the horizon broken here and there by trees similar to the one upon which Khalimandaria had rested previously. Why was it here? The reason was unknown to this one; surely it must have had some purpose for coming to this place, a place which seemed utterly devoid of the wicked and vile which Khalimandaria pursued so vehemently. The being looked around, trying to decipher its purpose prior to its slumber and expulsion of the darkness which had enveloped it so. Was the darkness trying to lead this one astray of its intended target, or was this one in pursuit of this indistinguishable darkness?

Ah, yes, this one remembered there being a city that lay in ruins, the smell of smoke and ash still seemed to linger upon this one’s being, but why was this city no longer in sight, had Khalimandaria finished its business there? A light wind stirred the country-side, stirring the grass in brilliant waves which rolled to and fro with the current’s breath and the leaves up above stirred restlessly, the crisp rustling of this verdant world stirring a feeling of harmony deep down within the being’s essence. This one would not have left the city without determining if any injustice had been done to the people there, surely it would have not done such an unconscionable thing as that. Khalimandaria turned around to take in another view of the plains upon which it was currently standing, and brought its vision down upon the ruinous city which had inhabited its thoughts previously.

The world was doing it again, it never stood still, not even for a minute, surely it was not Khalimandaria moving throughout the world for it was standing still, the world must be speaking to it, obviously its work was not done at this place, there was some stone left unturned. Whether figuratively or literally this one set out to find out exactly what that secret was, and it would stay until it was uncovered, that or its duty to punish the wicked called. Meting out punishment was the main priority of this being, and nothing would stand between it and achieving that purpose, it knew that for a fact. Such a situation had come before, where someone tried to stop a wicked being from receiving its punishment, the only thing that Khalimandaria could do was punish them as well, a being who shielded the wicked was no better and deserved an appropriate punishment. This one continued back into the city, hoping to find whatever answers for which it was currently seeking.

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Character Portrait: Erixianti Character Portrait: Khalimandaria
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#, as written by Igari

Image



The times were few and in-between that the girl ever deigned to listen to her shadows. Often times, they spoke words yearning of freedom, for her to use her voice to give them form. She did her best to ignore them and, for the most part, was successful. But in the rare moment she did lend her ear, they would sometimes tell her something helpful. This was not to say her shadows would try and bring her harm... But they were devious and would do anything to be set free. Trick her into using her voice to release them, even if the time was short and lasted for some several minutes.

The girl tilted her head towards the ground, half-closing her eyes as a shade brushed against her small frame. "Mistress," It whispered, the girl in question instinctively shivering and wrapping her arms around herself. She did not respond, only glancing at the barely existent being from underneath her lashes. "You are going the wrong way."

The wrong way? How was that... well, she had not quite gotten her bearings on her location. Perhaps the shadows could sense something she could not. Quietly, she inclined her head in a nod, waiting for it to continue.

"There is another like you... he wanders amongst the drakorehl." Her face paled a little as she heard that word. Drakorehl... the paper-thin shadow reflections that wandered in Eludrest. She had taught herself never to visit there. Beyond the fact that her shadows and those beings might just become chummy... It was a dangerous place for all inner selves that were conscious. That still had links to their waking selves. Drakorehl fed off that essence... Whoever was silly enough to go there willingly..

She sighed a little and tapped the side of her deer skull twice. The object rattled, clattering as it moved its jaw about, as if stretching its muscles. Muscles it most certainly didn't have. "Is he still whole?" The skull voiced her question for her in an air voice, wispy and hesitant. She could sense the disappointment from the shade. It had hoped she would speak up. No, she was smarter than that. Even if she was supposedly alone, it was always dangerous to do that. To let them out for a second, who knew how her words would be taken? Who would fall into danger because of her? The thought of what had happened the last time..

The moment passed and the shadow laughed at her, causing a chilled sensation to settle in her stomach at the sound.

"For now," Was all it said before she felt it fade. The girl sighed a little to herself, reviewing the information internally. Aother like her--had it meant another inner self? A lucid dreamer? She instantly dismissed her recent thought. No, it couldn't have meant that, it had to be another inner self. That was the only possibility. But the shadow had said "he". Quinera was most certainly a "she". But maybe it would be better to seek him out. If he was there, he did not understand the danger he was in.

She had never willingly been the savior and had never consciously attempted to assist someone like this. But if there was even one more dreamer out there... She had to take the risk. She had to try.

The girl turned on her heel, firming the image of Eludrest City in her mind. She'd have to go to the edges of the boundary, then the Dreamscape would do the rest. She took a deep breath as she now walked with purpose. First she would find him, then she'd... hopefully ask him if he wanted to help her on her search of her friend. It would be easier with another person and the journey wouldn't be so lonely anymore. Yes, that seemed like a good idea.

She paused for a moment, squinting off into the distance. The realm always complied with strong will and reaching the boundary had only taken a few minutes of walking. It was what she saw near the boundary that made her hesitate. That made her wonder. Who was that? It looked to be a woman in a full set of armor... were those wings on her back? She had never done well with approaching others. In fact, she wanted to avoid groups as best as she possibly could. The boy was different, he was in danger. But would she be able to side-step this woman without her noticing?

It made her nervous to contemplate speaking... well, maybe if she was real quiet, the woman would just leave her alone. The warrior looked a bit lost anyway. She was going to tell herself that. To give herself confidence.





Two of them now? This was going to be harder than imagined... masking the smallest of them was a simple enough task but to hide two was going to be a chore. There was no way that all could be shielded... With a bit of regret, it knew there was no simple way around it. Soon the hunt would begin.

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Character Portrait: Erixianti Character Portrait: Khalimandaria
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#, as written by Ezarael
Khalimandaria



Khalimandaria’s search amidst the rubble of the broken and burning city was proving to be fruitless, if that term could even justify how little evidence could be gleamed from the rubble or explain how other questions seemed to come to the seeker's inquiry. This one rarely questioned the why of an act, but without an obvious answer as to how or when it was done it seemed only logical to pursue this line of questioning, which yet again left this one with a blank slate. Whomsoever, or whatsoever, had laid waste to this place had done so with extreme efficiency, and if there had been any inhabitants in this ruinous place all trace of their existence was wiped from view, as if some kindly housekeeper had come by and swept it all away. Yet another question to be answered, why could Khalimandaria not find any of the city’s inhabitants? That is, of course, assuming there were any when the city had been destroyed.

For all the seeker knew this city had been abandoned long ago, for whatever that line of reasoning might entail in this world of curiosities and intricacies, and that the destruction had been something harmless and lacking in any evil design. The thought of an action lacking in any purely good or evil motives and intentions seemed inconceivable to this one who considered everything to be black and white, any shade of grey seemed to be the result of a mind incapable of resolve. One who lacked such resolve could not be trusted, for if they could not resolutely set their motives and intentions upon the good and just then there was always the possibility that they could fall from the path of righteousness. Maybe that was the reason this city was abandoned and destroyed; it could have been the symbol of decadence and decay in its time, in which case this one would have gladly assisted in dismantling it, stone from mortar.

Something seemed different though, it was as if the city had changed, no longer could Khalimandaria feel the heat of any fires, nor the stinging of nostrils accompanied with the smoke from previously, but this city seemed to lay in just as ruinous a state, but where the first seemed dismantled by intentional machinations, this appeared as if abandoned and reclaimed by time. This city truly seemed as if it had been forgotten by everyone and lost to the sands of time, the mortar corroding and buildings decaying slowly and consistently, creating the impression of some order to the chaos in this place. How had it come to this place, and why did it seem so . . . comfortable, as if this being belonged here, in this city devoid of any passion, both good and evil. It almost felt as if this one belonged here. The solitude and tranquility was calming to the mind and body, quieting all of the previous turbulence created by its search in the city of destruction, and molding a sense of possibility here. Maybe Khalimandaria could make this city into something new, and not only restore any previous glory but transcend it in a way its previous founders could only imagine.

A feeling of being watched crept into this one’s mind though, was there still someone left in this city? Maybe they were a lost soul, such as this one of pure justice, and needed assistance in this deserted and decaying city, they might even be one who desired to assist Khalimandaria in the restoration and glorification of this city, a resolute being who sought a city of justice. Or they could be one of pure evil, one who would need purging from this place so that Khalimandaria’s desire could be fulfilled. Whatever the circumstances to her accompaniment this one’s resolve remained the same; it must determine the motives and intentions of this stranger’s presence. All that was to be done now was to set out and find this other being.

How long it searched seemed meaningless, but as time progressed the feeling of being in another’s presence and watched grew slowly, until it felt as if the other was standing next to the seeker. When Khalimandaria turned to survey its surroundings better it finally set upon the visage of what seemed to be a young girl, who seemed hesitant and somewhat worried. Why was a child in such a desolate city as this? Maybe she was lost and needed help, Khalimandaria was unsure how it could provide any more assistance than as a companion and maybe protector, but surely that was needed by this lone child. The angelic being approached slowly, stopping before it came too close to avoid frightening the poor child, and addressed her in a firm, but soothing voice, “Do not fear child. My name is Khalimandaria, and I wish you no harm. What brings you to this desolate place?”

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Character Portrait: Erixianti Character Portrait: Khalimandaria Character Portrait: Compendium
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#, as written by Igari


Erixianti




The woman was approaching her, that much was certain. The girl swallowed, wrapping her arms around her small body. The woman did not attempt to touch her, merely stayed a suitable distance away. The angelic figure was much taller than the younger girl, a fact that she was well aware of.

“Do not fear child. My name is Khalimandaria, and I wish you no harm. What brings you to this desolate place?” What was she to say? She doubted the woman would go away, even with a proper answer. She furrowed her brows, tilting her gaze downwards and shifting slightly.

"I... am Erixianti," The deer skull clattered to life, speaking in a soft wisp of a voice that barely had any strength to it. She was always so nervous around other people! She wished that she could somehow project the answers to them preemptively so that she wouldn't have to deal with all this conversation. It got her in a tizzy and made her nervous... "I am looking for someone, my protector."

She looked at the woman from underneath her long lashes, letting her bangs cover the top parts of her eyes. She would just have to tell herself that this being was not scary. If she did that, she would have nothing to fear, right? It did not seem like the knightly woman would be harming her, if the approach was anything to go by. So all she had to do was stay calm, relax

But that wasn't the whole truth, now was it? No, she had to find the boy, the one in Eludrest. He was in danger. That was her first prerogative. The city was a dangerous place, even for one such as herself. The beings there, they were not the same kind of shades that she controlled. No, they were only imprints left behind by old inner selves who no longer had a link to the waking self. A mere visage of a memory that leeched off others... Far different from her shadows who were coherent and conscious.

If it came down to fighting, which she hated and wanted to avoid at all costs, would she make it out okay? Part of her realized she was counting on the boy to be capable, in that sense, to make up for what she could not do. Maybe it would be wiser to open up more to this woman after all. If there was no sense of aggressiveness, then there was no harm in companionship. She just had to learn to be less scared! She wanted friends, right? One didn't get those by always running away from the first person that approached!

"I am... headed towards the city, actually," The skull spoke a bit more clearly, the tone filled with more surety. "There is someone who I need to retrieve from there," Nevermind the fact that she did not know him. It took all her strength to force the next words to pass from the deer skull's mouth. "A-Are you going in that direction as well?" She nearly shook for how much effort it took! Oh, how she wished Quinera was here. At least the jester was able to talk to people a lot better than she was...

Some heroine she was, barely able to communicate and fearful of the slightest interaction. She could only hope that time would aid her in getting better. She gestured ahead of them with her hand, pointing towards the edge of the boundary to indicate where she needed to go. "It's that way," She mentioned quietly, unable to hold the woman's gaze. The skull portrayed the urgency she felt. They had to get there soon. Before the boy found himself in an irreversible situation.



Compendium




He was being a show-off again, wasn't he?

She sighed to herself, running a few fingers across the holographic image. He always made things difficult, not that he intended to. She knew that, of course. He did not know of her, he did not know of here. But she knew of him and Enforcer had always been the type that enjoyed a flare. Perhaps it came from his affinity with fire. She placed her hands atop her lap as she gazed at the small figures within her reconstruction of the Dreamscape. They could not sense her watchful eyes, surprisingly, the lucid ones were not aware either.

She suspected it had to do with... no, she daren't even think it. She had a brief moment alone, a lapse of peace that surely would be shortened if she so much as thought of her... ward. Yes, that would be the polite way of putting it. The dreamers were all so... oblivious. Almost like young children. And here she was doing her best to defend them without them having the slightest clue.

He had stumbled, no, he had sensed that small group located by the campfire. Hopefully that would keep Enforcer busy-busy enough for her to shield the others and keep attentions away from those that really mattered. Indeed... the girl with the skull fascination and that angelic knight would act as a beacon for the scattered dreamers to gravitate towards. But they were not who she really had to protect.

That little witch was going to owe her a lot more by the time she was through with all this.

The setting changes from Dreamscape to Eludrest City

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Erixianti Character Portrait: Khalimandaria
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#, as written by Ezarael
Khalimandaria



Khalimandaria’s soft lips formed a broad, warm smile and spread across the visible part of her face, hoping to assure the young girl that it was not seeking to harm her in any way, but even though it was glad to have come upon such a friendly sight, something did not feel right. This was definitely not the presence it could feel earlier, the one which had been watching it for so long and it had sought out in return, just to stumble upon this frail child with the strange, clattering bones from which she seemed to speak. The angelic being had crouched down when the girl turned her head downwards, hoping not to dwarf her with its much larger size, something that seemed to be proving rather intimidating to the poor girl, and hoped that she was not frightened by its presence. It tilted its head to the right slightly at the sound of the girl’s soft, wispy voice and the accompanying clatter of bones.

“Erixianti, a pretty name for a pretty girl, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The girl seemed so anxious and frightened, maybe she was unaccustomed to one such as Khalimandaria, or merely disliked the company of strangers, but when she spoke of searching for her protector it seemed to make much more sense to it. A slight frown formed across its face as it pondered this occurrence, and when it spoke next there was just the slightest hint of a contemptuous snarl in her voice, “Searching for your protector? A protector who loses track of their charge might not be worthy of such a title little one. Do not worry though Erixianti, I could always accompany you until we come across this so called protector. May I ask to where you travel young one?”

Once again there was that soft, wispy voice and clatter of bones as Erixianti spoke through a strange skull, only one piece from an assortment of bones of all shapes and sizes, a rather curious preference of accessories for such a small, timid child, but there were stranger sights to be seen in this world. The voice was much clearer and firm this time, something that relieved Khalimandaria quite a bit, enough so to bring another soft smile to her lips again, especially upon hearing the child’s request. The thought that there was someone else located somewhere within the desolate, lonesome city where Khalimandaria felt that piercing gaze staring down upon it was almost too much for it to believe, and immediately a protective and curious instinct kicked-in.

Khalimandaria nodded curtly as the girl’s voice quieted down, the skull seeming to quiver and quake with urgency, and she lost the girl’s gaze once again. A delicate hand reached out towards the young Erixianti, stopping just shy of lightly grasping her thin shoulder, not wanting to frighten the girl any more than she seemed to be at the moment, and the angelic being stood back up, stretching its wings just slightly as it set its gaze upon the city. “We should hurry Erixianti, there is a dangerous aura about that city, and a young one such as yourself should not wander in there alone. Come now; let us retrieve this ‘someone’.” Khalimandaria set a quick pace back to the city from which it had wandered, in search of someone or something which it had not found just yet. Maybe they were this “someone” Erixianti wish to retrieve, or even her so-called “protector”?


Once again time passed by in an indistinguishable manner, as they crossed over the threshold into the city itself and began wandering the ruins aimlessly in search of this other stranger, with Erixianti still seeming so anxious and in a hurry to find the person for whom they sought. Khalimandaria decided to stop in what appeared to have been a fountain-area at one point in time, now toppled-over and reclaimed by some form of vegetation unknown to the angelic one. It turned around to face the young girl, as it tried to stay somewhat in-front of her should anything jump out to surprise them as they traversed the ruins. “Let us stop for a time Erixianti, the one for whom we seek might just wander by this way whilst we rest, and if not we can at least reconsider how we are searching. Now, tell me, what does this person look like? Are they male, female, or something else?”

The setting changes from Eludrest City to Dreamscape

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kiyu Character Portrait: Enforcer Character Portrait: Zakiriya Character Portrait: Quinera Character Portrait: Zhaleh the Inquisitor Character Portrait: Erixianti
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#, as written by Siryn
Image




Eludrest City

He was trying to get out of the strange city. Having seen his other half, it had unnerved him completely. What was worse was the look of evil intent in the being's eyes. Kiyu felt his heart race, a strange feeling at the back of his mind pressing forward. He fought to keep it down. The feeling was a strange one and it was scary as well. A kind of darkness that he didn't want to let invade his mind and body.

Kiyu moved swiftly, coming down a set of old stair in the short hill that went passed several broken down stone homes. The 'people' there seemed to turn their cold eyes upon him, causing him to fear even more and move faster. Always at the back of his neck, the feeling that someone was staring holes through his skin was present. He could almost feel his mirror image following him, if that were even possible. Kiyu continued to tell himself that it wasn't possible and that these people didn't mind his presence at all.

As he came down from the steps and the street leveled off he began to recognize where he'd come in at. The open courtyard was familiar with the fallen stones, the fountain at its center and the lack of the paper-like people. He felt a sigh of relief fill his chest as he slowed his advance. With his heart settling down, and his thoughts coming into a point of rest from their haywire earlier, he didn't notice the two sitting at the fountain.

Even so, he was a ways away from them, still on the edges of the main part of the city that was nothing but rubble. A sudden chill ran through his spine and he turned to look behind him. Golden eyes widening, he took a step backwards as he turned to face them. So, the people had followed him and they looked... upset. He wasn't sure really. Even so, they came at him with every intent to attack and Kiyu swiped his hand out in front of him, a shout of fear escaping him.

As his hand swiped out, a rush of black crystallized spikes erupted between him and those that wished him harm. He pulled away from them slowly, the crystal wall wasn't nearly high enough to keep them away for long and it wasn't all that thick either. He'd done it in a hurry with little to no thought at all. Kiyu's heart raced in his chest as he backed away, watching them carefully and preparing to raise another wall if he needed to.






Zakiriya


Zakiriya edged closer to the growing tension. He'd not made it in time to save the boy, nor had he made it nearly close enough to do anything about the sudden attack of the girl in a sphere. She'd turned immediately and proceeded to... feast on the unfortunate companion. His heart twisted, wrenching as he watched her. It almost made him sick, but he kept control of his stomach.

His weapon, however, he did not put away and he kept a close eye on the man who had killed the boy in the first place. The others, though didn't seem to notice that their companion was indeed killed by something much worse. He wouldn't say anything though, they were not lucid dreamers and even if he did tell them... how were they supposed to believe him? Zakiriya swallowed dryly as he approached the group. His hand tightened around the shaft of his scythe.

"What is the meaning of this?! What have you done? You were a guest at my fire, and this is what you bring to my table? Murder and secrets? Darkness and death?"

The boy who spoke in enraged tones also materialized a weapon he too took an interesting look. Stopping just short of them all, Zakiriya shifted so that he was nearest to the boy who asked the question. The large blade of the scythe scrapped the ground as he moved ever so slightly into the better position. His gaze fell upon the woman who'd eaten their friend and he once again felt a wave of nausea ensue.

Zakiriya wouldn't say anything until the woman answered the given question. He would decide then if she was an enemy or not, even though everything about her screamed evil. He watched wearily, ready for a fight, but not really wanting one, not so early in the game...