Mystic Syn

“Mmm,” he hummed, tilting his head from side to side. A sense of warmth came into existence a little ways off––more of two, actually––but they seemed to be distant as well. At least a Transporter and Elya Pherish, and one other person who might as well be a Mystic. Perfect. “If you insist.” His eyes shot open, hand zipping to his side blade, but didn’t unsheathe. He, instead, focused on her very lifeforce pumping within her––her very blood––and began exercising his will on it, and her body, to stop.

Khaos sighed, closing his eyes. “I really didn’t want to fight, Pherish. Is this what you want… well, is it what Ji would want from you?

“I told you already,” he said, searching her eyes as his voice grew quieter. “He’s at the bottom of the canal. I watched him take his last breath before being consumed by the water. Feel free to take a look yourself.”

“I don’t care what you do,” he said, raising a brow. “I just wanted to let you know about him... oh, and how the Angel will be there to ‘repay her debt’ to him.”

“Not most of them. “Anyways, I’m sure you heard Ji Naito talking about an invitation to a masquerade, hm? What if I told you that His Highness was going to attend? What would you do with that information?”

Khaos actually scoffs. “Why would I have used him as a bargaining chip? That rat, Ji Naito, never meant anything. He was only an annoyance I was asked to take care of; nothing more, nothing less. Made a mess of everything. He was basically useless to your petty cause, but I digress.” He studied her, looking at her stance up and down. “It’s not what I want, but what I believe that you would like, yes?” The blood around his fingers zipped in front of him, then took the shape of a very, very familiar man; one that the Angel only showed him to once, and the one that she told him that Elya would know. “I am told that you are… acquainted with the man that calls himself His Highness, yes?”

He stood there, unblinking, the warm blood oozing down his cheek. “I just answered your implied question,” he said calmly, even blinking with surprise. “I mean no harm.” The slash wound immediately scabbed over, the remaining blood falling off his face to swirl around his fingers. “If I wanted to hurt you, Elya, I wouldn’t be having his conversation with you,” Khaos mused as the blood stopped swirling and calmed down at the base of his fingers.

“I am a Lifegiver,” Khaos admitted, his eyebrows raising, “but my powers do not control my own vitals.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why do you care so much for him? He hasn’t done anything to warrant this behavior. As far as I know––as limited as that might be––you are not indebted to him. Even if you were, he’s gone; you would have nothing to be indebted to.”

“Elya Pherish, right?” Khaos kept his hands up, moving them further away from his blades. “You’re a Harmony, right? You can detect abnormalities in my heartbeat, thus being a real life lie detector, right? Read me now as I say this.” He looked her straight in the eye, all vitals remaining steady. “Ji Naito is dead. I watched him drown in the canals below. If you so desire, take a look for yourself, though it’s more likely that his corpse got swept up in the current.” Khaos then gestured to where he came from, towards the salty scent of the canal.

“She said you were a smart one,” Khaos said, smiling a bit. He kept his hand raised in the air, then slowly raised the other one to show no weapons. “Well, he’s dead.”

He breathed in. Perfect. Khaos turned to the hallway, making his way into view. His hair, though pulled back, waved along as he moved and stood at the end of the hallway. Keeping one hand on his side sword, he placed his other hand on his hip. “No one ever comes up here unless they are looking for something or someone,” he said, removing his hand from his sword and raising it in the air a bit. “Who is it that you seek?” . . . Ji stared at the wall, his own breathing being the only thing he heard. I shouldn’t be here. Ragged breath in. I can’t be here. Ragged breath out. I should be… Ragged breath in. I should be… Another ragged breath in. And another. And another. And another… Ji gripped the back of his chair, shakily getting on his feet. His sweater clung to his frame, as well as his pants. His soaked hair matted his face, both from the canal water and from sweat. His fingers took on a tinge of blue, becoming whiter as he gripped the chair. Was it even right to be here? It sure didn’t feel like it. He still reached down, though, and peeled off his sweater and tank top, throwing it over the tub’s rim with a schlep. His whole frame trembled as it was exposed to the cool air, his top bare half shivering more than anything else. Ji grumbled, snatching and wringing out his–– “I hope you rested a bit,” Ysola’s voice called out as a door burst open. “Aaaanyways, I brought some towels and––” A high-pitched yelp interrupted her sentence. What the..? Ji’s eyebrows inched together, then turned around to see a bright-red faced Ysola averting her gaze––even putting a hand between her eyes and him––as she held out the fluffy pink towels and a fresh change of clothes. “Uh, thanks?” Ji grabbed the towels and clothes, turning back to his sopping sweater and tank top. He ruffled his hair with a towel, the salty canal water finally drying up from his hair. He then stopped. “You’re still looking,” he said, moving onto his arms. Another small yelp. Stammering apologies spilled out, one garbled sentence leading to another, then the door closed quickly, followed by mumbles he couldn’t make out. He fell quiet, slowly taking off and putting on new clothes.

Khaos rested his other hand on the railing, looking down as he closed his eyes, and took in another inhale. Same scents, except… It raced within them, pumping harder and harder as––he assumed––they ran… or climbed. Whichever is a viable option. He opened his eyes. Perfect. . . . His vision cleared as he was dragged into the house, though his stomach continued to make threats about turning his insides into his outsides. Ji pulled his head up with a grunt, finally looking at the person… the girl that was pulling him inside. Petite little thing. Amazing how she was able to pull him in. “Are you lightn’ insane?!” someone hissed, though she closed the door behind them. “You could’ve been seen. You could’ve been taken away.” “But I wasn’t,” the girl retorted, hefting Ji as he groaned. “Besides, he would’ve died if I didn’t help.” “So? You still don’t want to be seen helping lightn’ wanted criminals, especially if you used your abilities on him.” “You’re the one that––” Footsteps entered the room, silencing the girls, as they moved towards him. An older woman crouched down, gently turning Ji’s face from side to side as he huffed for air, concern knitting her brow together. “Ysola,” the woman said, standing up. “Take him to the bathroom and make sure he has towels to dry himself off.” “Yes, Mother,” the girl holding him––Ysola––said, helping him up and guiding him. “Nyka,” the woman continued, “make sure that we have dry and warm clothes for him to change into for a bit, till at least his own clothes are dry.” “Yes, Mother,” the other girl––Nyka––said, running up a flight of stairs. Really strange, his confused thoughts muttered as Ysola placed Ji down in the bathroom on a chair, saying something about how she would be back with towels in just a moment, but Ji only stared on. He continued to stare at the dim wall as she left, focusing on breathing.

Darker. Ji thrashed against the unseen force, growing more and more fatigued as he failed to reach the surface. Darker. His lungs threatened to burst. Darker. Water seeped its way between his lips, going down his throat. Darker… Darker… Darker… . . . “Khaos.” He kept his eyes focused on the distant canal, training them on the fading bubbles, then carefully reached up to his earpiece. “Yes, Angel?” he said through gritted teeth, refusing to break eye contact. “They left.” An eyebrow raised. “She’s with them.” It rose higher. “They’re headed your way.” The other eyebrow rose. “I suggest, if you haven’t already, let him go and prepare yourself.” He exhaled slowly. “As you wish, Angel,” Khaos whispered, the overwhelming stress relieving his mind. “You know what to do.” The comm clicked off. Khaos turned from the canal, resting a hand on his side sword. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out deeply. The cool breeze from the Doshvid Mounts whipped through his hair, wafting the scents of the marketplace and the saltiness of the canal below to his nose. People chattered below in languages he was not yet familiar in; it might as well be gibberish for all he cares. Chimes and other assorted items clattered in that same breeze. Perfect. With another inhale, his mind relaxed after hearing the ambience. Exhale… He looked down at the city, taking note of them. Perfect. . . . I can’t do this anymore. Ji floated in darkness, except with his knees tucked in under his chin. The vague feeling of being pulled and shoved tugged in the real world, but it was only that right now: Just a tug. Nothing for him to worry about. Nothing he could do about it. It’s not like he had the power to do so anyway. He couldn’t save himself from danger. He couldn’t use his powers correctly. He couldn’t save anyone around him. He couldn’t keep himself alive properly. Everything around him wanted to kill him. This was… what? The fifth time? Fourth time? Who knows. Who cares? “Just make up your lightn’ mind,” he whispered, his voice breaking once again. The Man in White sipped his tea. “Just… let me go.” Ji buried his face in his knees. “You’ve given me too many chances already. I blew every single one of them.” The Man in White continued to sip his tea. “Can you even hear me?!” He snapped his head towards him. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be sent back to only die again! I’m useless. Stupid. Powerless. I can’t even hold myself against a common Mystic, light it! “I cannot do this anymore. I won’t go through it again. I’m done, ya hear me?! “I. AM. DONE.” The Man in White set his tea down, and turned to Ji, his entire appearance fading. “Please, no––” The tug yanked him back into the veil of darkness. Gasp! Ji rolled on his side, hacking up the rest of the water and other assorted meals into what Ji assumed to be the canal. His mind swam through everything and nothing. His stomach churned uncomfortably, threatening to do it again, but didn’t follow through. His joints felt like they were ripped out of their sockets and placed back in again… except they were placed in terribly. “Liiights!” a fuzzy voice exclaimed. “You’re hotter in real life than in the poster.” He blinked his eyes open, and then squinted at the bright and blurry surroundings. “Ex-huff-excuse me?” “Nothing!” the humanoid blob beside him said a bit too quickly, then started helping him sit up. “Let’s, um… let’s just get you inside.” “I-huff-I am not––” “Vita Vivet.” Ji closed his mouth, staring at the spinning ground. He hadn’t heard that since… “Et Bene huff Vivere,” Ji finished, allowing the person to help him up, and leaned on them to take them into whatever this “inside” was. . . . The Angel clicked the comm off, then looked up at the door she watched the party leave from. She placed her hands on her hips. Let’s hope this works, Krow said. “Me too.”

Binging through the Fools Gold campaign even though I’ve been with it since episode one has been.. well, both hilarious and like, really well written. Like omg.

I know that I am plenty capable of drawing my rp characters, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen you try your hand at Yulong. I don’t care when you do it or if you do it lol. If you do plan to make it, here’s a reference if you want: If you’re not planning on making it… uh, have a free reference/piece of art?

Yeah, basically the same, except that if I’m feelings the feels, I write them out; whether that be in a narrative or just in my journal depends on how I’m feeling. I will say that some of the narratives I’ve written were times where I was feeling the feels and placing those feelings into my characters and basically make that a part of who they are, and saying that aloud makes me realize how much writing is basically my therapy. I mean, I haven’t written like that in a while I say as I’m going to be actually starting a project I’ve been meaning to write here soon.

Yeahhhhh. There will be some times where I find it hard to sleep, because my brain will be going in every direction at once, trying to be creative; an example of this would be last night when I didn’t get to sleep till maybe 3am or later, because my creative urges were strong, but I really didn’t want to mess up my already screwed up sleep schedule anymore than it is right now. If I could, I would also play the piano, but alas: There are other people trying to sleep in my house, not to mention that there are other people trying to sleep in my neighborhood and I just don’t want to risk it.

It was a good day today :)) Well,, it’s been a good day for everyday at this point, but yeah.

1. I don’t have a specific favorite piece of art; I just have a list of favorites. One of my favorites right now is “Seeking the One” by Liz Lemon Swindle. 2. Night has been my favorite, because no one is up and it’s very quiet.. it also can be my least favorite because no one is up. 3. This is real life and not just fantasy. We are all living it, experiencing our own emotions. Out of all the people that I will meet, I will never understand everyone’s emotions and what they go through.

That moment when all you can think about is writing one of your characters’ going to a party with another character – who’s acting as the first character’s fiancé – for hijinks, ‘cause you were unintentionally inspired by Mistborn.

Oooh, a bit late, but me likey :))

I’ll probably try my hand at Syl here soon. I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, so ye. And it’s okay if you don’t know any of the characters I’ve drawn lol; a good portion of them are OCs anyways.

Haven't touched this thread in a while.. probably because I haven't written in a while.