by Kylerryth » Sun Oct 25, 2009 2:06 pm
There was a soft hum, then, like the subtle vibrations of music through a thick wall; and after a few moments it pulsed to a crescendo, an unseen hand's fingers plucking at the strings of the dreamscape. Would they notice it, engrossed as they were? Perhaps they might feel it resonating within them, as well -- for they had each of them experienced the dreamwaker's creations, albeit to different degrees. It was wordless, formless; it was beautiful, terrible. It echoed around and inside of them, until it seemed the very air of the white void shook with song.
It appeared, and the music fell silent.
One moment there was empty space; the next, without sound or warning, it had manifested a small distance from the group. It did nothing to mitigate the current struggle between them, and did not announce itself. What they beheld, however, when they finally saw it, was in all likelihood not how they might have expected it to look, the two Jirai in particular.
It was naked, and while the shape and build of its body was obviously male, it possessed no genitalia -- there was instead a smooth, unbroken patch of skin. Too, it had no face: where its face should have been was blank, utterly devoid of features and definition. Its skin was pale, hairless, and unblemished, save for veins of softly throbbing golden light that formed a tracery over the entirety of its body, lending the faceless, sexless being a sort of holy nimbus. It was a creature of awe and terror, and the sheer force of its presence in the dreamscape seemed to galvanize the entire void, to set it quivering with anticipation.
"Yes, Glenn Burnie," said the dreamwaker, its voice emanating from the void itself in an amalgamation of voices. There was the high innocence of a child, the tender love of a mother, the self-sacrificing goodness of a father; there was the liquid baritone of a bard, the sultry smoke of a whore, and more -- and behind it all, as if in accompaniment, there were sounds of death and despair: a chorus of cracking necks; a bridge of broken hearts.
"Yes, yes, and yes," it said, and though it had no lips, they would feel it smiling.
I'll either find a way or make one.