An instant before the portal opens, the world goes sharp again.
Creeping tendrils of unlight - exist, have always existed, will always exist upon the walls and ceiling and at random in the air, reaching out towards Thorn and Dotted Lines and the sudden portal -
- and suddenly are diverted, as the world around them bends.
There is a blinding flash of that same strange light fantastic, and for an instant
the world
shatters
space itself leaps for them, howling dogs of far too many angles and glimmering gold dust dripping like drool from their teeth of silver sand, pastel-shaded molten annoyance cutting like blades in all directions, and the walls and the floor turn sideways and out, splintering into thousands of possibilities and desperately sharp -
Sono yaegaki wo.
- and all of this has always happened in a bubble, a small constrained volume about the portal crackling with black vines that whip and move like lightning, a wondrous eight-fold fence to imprison the impossible world.
Vanishment, this world.
And the world within turns sideways, becoming something drawn on reality, and then fades away entirely, leaving nothing behind.
... well. Leaving a rather irritated looking projection of Aisilian behind, staring at the empty space where the portal once was.
Then he looks up, as if hearing something, and vanishes.
(At this point, Raezenoth may notice a few grains of sand missing, and tiny holes in the wall where they accelerated at impossible speeds to reach the portal. Whether they reached their destination, nobody yet knows...)
Re: P L O T
Creeping tendrils of unlight - exist, have always existed, will always exist upon the walls and ceiling and at random in the air, reaching out towards Thorn and Dotted Lines and the sudden portal -
- and suddenly are diverted, as the world around them bends.
There is a blinding flash of that same strange light fantastic, and for an instant
the world
shatters
space itself leaps for them, howling dogs of far too many angles and glimmering gold dust dripping like drool from their teeth of silver sand, pastel-shaded molten annoyance cutting like blades in all directions, and the walls and the floor turn sideways and out, splintering into thousands of possibilities and desperately sharp -
Sono yaegaki wo.
- and all of this has always happened in a bubble, a small constrained volume about the portal crackling with black vines that whip and move like lightning, a wondrous eight-fold fence to imprison the impossible world.
Vanishment, this world.
And the world within turns sideways, becoming something drawn on reality, and then fades away entirely, leaving nothing behind.
... well. Leaving a rather irritated looking projection of Aisilian behind, staring at the empty space where the portal once was.
Then he looks up, as if hearing something, and vanishes.
(At this point, Raezenoth may notice a few grains of sand missing, and tiny holes in the wall where they accelerated at impossible speeds to reach the portal. Whether they reached their destination, nobody yet knows...)