Monday, March 07, 2005


Looking side to side, he makes sure no one is watching. Then, he starts to clench his fists tightly, nails biting into the palm of his hand. From this wound, blood begins to well up, until a single drop of it falls to the floor. When the drop impacts the floor, all of the world ripples in response, everything seemingly a reflection in liquid of the REAL world...

This fluid begins to climb his legs, slowly enveloping him. As the fluid covers him, you see that it seems to eat through all fabric on his body, reducing his clothes to nothing, and leaving the viscous liquid fitting taut over his skin. As you see the liquid is almost done, you catch a glimpse of his eyes, burning a crimson red.

Completely covered, the fluid begins to pulse a dark red, like wine. Like the beats of a heart, slow, rythmic, entrancing. Hair the color of ash begins to grow, all the way to his waist, where there was short black hair moments before. His face grows slightly more angular, like those fantasy depictments of elves. His whole body changes, lowering his height from 6'2" to 5'4", and slightly reinforcing his build for speed. You notice the glow in his eyes still remains, despite them being covered by the metallic-smelling liquid.

In a sudden busrt of motion, the fluid seems to suddenly harden, then shatter outward in a thousand pieces, leaving behind an imposing figure. His pants unfurl from the tightness that was forced upon them, revealing very baggy, almost skirt-like pants, like those used by the kendoka of old. His ashen shirt, the same tone as his hair, is accentuated by the black vest that is superimposed over it, glowing with crimson trimmings that seem to continue the rythmic beating of before.

The crystal shards of his cocoon, still spiraling in the air, begin to gather around him, like a jigsaw puzzle assembling itself. Along his left arm, the shards collapse on his skin, forming a sort of arm brace, covering from his wrist to his shoulder in overlapping plates of a glassy material. Along his right arm, something similar, although only covering as far as his elbow. And in the left side of his hip, the remaining shards all arrange themselves into what seems to be a katana, of exquisite design, both the blade and sheath in crimson glass, the hilt done in what seems like bone.

The metamorphosis complete, Ashtear puts his hand on the hilt of his blade, and in what seems like a sudden shift of weight instead of a slash, he slices through the seeming reflection of the world. The fluid all hardens, calcifying into dust, and leaving Ashtear to contend with the true darkness behind this world.

I wrote this to be used as my description for, but I'll prolly use it everywhere.

No comments: