Wednesday, December 4, 2013

[CV] - Epilogue



Blinding, comforting, cradling white.


Shadowy, chilly, freezing black.

Cycles. Black, White, Black, White.


[CV] - [31] – Razel Korr | Eruption Anomaly | Case Closure

Administrative Report

Re: Razel Korr | Eruption Anomaly | Case Closure

Filed by Tessellate Clerical Function BA42

Metric Year 654-068-015

[CV] - [30] - To a Close

“I need you to change your outfits to match theirs now. Play along and leave the second I destroy the well. It won’t be long before the first response arrives.”


A sharp click of the lock’s pressure plate being shifted into the active position preceded the click of the door as the three of them entered the cluttered Laboratory, closing it securely after themselves. Whirring, thunking, buzzing, and snapping, the myriad materials wound about their metallic substrate, ampules flowing into casks powered by crystals emitting auras invisible to the eye. Noisily, the laboratory undertook the kinds of scientific endeavors only possible with the liberal application of magic. A pool in the corner of the nearest sub chamber emitted a gentle blue glow, catwalks crossing the surface beneath a suspended mechanical manipulation device. More crosswalks and access paths danced through the tall rooms, sometimes bridging into higher levels of chambers further in.

[CV] - [28] - TEA

The Causeway’s point of entry had lain unchanged for millennia, countless planar scars having torn a rift large enough that the Academy had since stabilized it for use as a large-scale gate. It unceremoniously spat out the three intruders, Razel hunching down and leading them behind a waist-high island built as a staging area for any gear the hunters may need. A Dias encircled the gate, running straight to the edge of the four islands built along the curve before dropping roughly a foot to the floor proper. Formed stone seamlessly flowed from floor to wall to ceiling, while the tall arch leading to the rooms beyond sat on the far side of the room from them.

[CV] - [27] - Deep Throat

Foam crashed onto the sharpened spires, waves beating the stony shore. The stones receded into sand, a beach leading into the line of trees as sounds of natural life harmonized with the tides. Ophelia leaned against a loping tree, large husky seeds looming above her.  Sea air and jungle nature, scents she could never tire of. A particularly loud crash deposited her informant in the middle of the stretch of sand, the floating disc accompanying him supporting a large crate full of documents and materials. The Madam strut into the sand, smiling sweetly, if insincerely.

[CV] - [26] - Up to Speed

To his dismay, Chittertrix was the first to return. He remembered the way well enough, but the silence irked him.

Fabulous. More waiting.