Terminus: Centricon-Reborn 5

[15:43] Syrta says, "Patron, I have returned with a bit more information on who lives on this island."
[15:48]
{LOAD GAME}

[15:50] Entering the flesh-infested cavern alerted eyes to pry open, following the youth as she approached. The dominant eye at the deepest depth of the cave peeled open to gaze upon her in response.

"So you have?" Sanguineous serpents slathered aside, terraforming the very flesh-moss she walked upon for a smoother, unimpeding surface.

"Speak on your discoveries, marked one."
(Terminus)
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[15:57] "Indeed, the following names have been found on certain aspects of the houses. Namely those of Ulfhild, Aistar, and Wra'gul."

She had scoured the homes for traces of mana to connect to someone, and running around the mainland those were those she had found that had matched the ambient mana on the doors of those buildings.

"Unfortunately the search for the governor is still on going, although I do have one last place to look for him.

In recent worldly events, Seems Vdalion has claimed almost every settlement and major city under their banner. And seems the majority of demons and other persons of ill fortune seem to be residing in the shadowlands."
(Syrta)
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[16:03] "Wra'gul…" The proclaimed Demon Patron parroted back. "I know this one... A necromancer under Varrach's allegiance." It claimed, with eyes staring unmovingly from Syrta.

"--but that can't be right... What would the necromancer be doing out here... If the rest of the demons are residing in the shadowlands as you've claimed." There was some time to consider potential reasons, but curiosity enthralled the identities of the remaining two.

"Ulfhild. Aistar. These are uniques names... Unknown to me. I do not know their allegiances, though I fathom they could likely be turned with some effort. Ensure that you take stride in learning more about the other two, assuming the governor is nowhere to be found."
(Terminus)
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[16:19] "Perhaps a hideout of sorts, a place out of the way and sight?" She offered, taking a guess as to why a house would be this far out. There wasn't much else out here after all. "However your will is heard Patron, I shall find out more of those two as I can."

However it seemed Syrta also had something else to comment on, as she manifested the Centricon in her hands.

"The Ritual of All Seeing.. All I need now is a vial of your blood."

She spoke, committing the ritual to memory. If she was to see as her patron did, this next part would require her to become blind, if only temporarily.

Grinding up the ingredients ahead of time, she placed them inside a large bowl, setting it down on the flesh moss that covered the floor. All that was left was a basin large enough to fit her and water together.
(Syrta)
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[16:26] "Ah... Yes..."

As he willed it so, so it would be...
Flesh irradiated by specialized Death Magic so long ago mutated before her very eyes, stretching and morphing meat-moss into a bowl large enough to hold an adult person within. It didn't look much different than an open flesh-pod when scrutinized.

A glimpse on the inside revealed tear-like bulbs connected to what appeared to be veins. They took to a crimson hue, yet resembled something of a fruit wrought of his own flesh. "Vials of my own accord, within the basin... Pluck them, for that which remains will be a means of baptism unto those unknowing of my existence."

Not only was he supplying a basin-substitute, but flesh-vials for her use later on.

With that, he returned to silence... Spectating Syrta with distinct attention to detail as he had done many times prior.
(Terminus)
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[16:36] A basin provided, and additional vials to use should it prove necessary to need them again for another ritual, Syrta carefully inspected the bulbs before picking them lest she damage them before their use. Finding the spot to deftly pluck them free, she now had four of the blood bulbs in her possession, one of which would be used shortly.

A quick trip out and back in with a couple of buckets of water to fill the basin would see them placed beside it for now. It was not quite time to start the ritual, there was one last step left to take care of before she began.

"Patron, I offer you my remaining eye."

A simple set of words spoken, before she reached up and plucked out her right eye, casting her world into darkness. Thankfully her prior preparation would mean she would be able to still do the ritual all the same, despite the lack of eyesight.

Holding her out her eye for the Terminal to receive, agony visible on her face, as the pain was scouring through her body for such abuse. She had to hold it together long enough to see the ritual done first, after that she could weep about the pain on her time.
(Syrta)
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[16:45] {Item} You picked up Amber x5. Dropped by Syrta.
[16:45] {Item} You picked up Glowing Mushroom x15. Dropped by Syrta.
[16:45] {Item} You picked up Alessa x15. Dropped by Syrta.
[16:45] {Item} You picked up Poppylus x10. Dropped by Syrta.
[16:45] {Item} You picked up Fairy Powder. Dropped by Syrta..
[16:48] The stamina...
The capacity for pain and anguish...
The sheer gall of this mortal, fascinated the Terminal.
To willingly turn their attention to an organ and pluck it so? In the past, he had seen others struggle to do less.

The offering earned the curl of the many lips looking onward from the sidelines.

A faceless force gently pried the fingers holding up the eye apart, carrying the offering via mastery of the telekinetic art.
"Descend into the basin, fated vessel... And speak the incantation."

To descend into a flesh-basin full of water, demon blood and ground up reagents -- Completely blind? It was a recipe for disaster by most accords...

Then, there was the Centricon's rune page to worry one's self about. Mana had to be cast upon it per the instructions of her tome, was it not? But there was only herself here, and without any eyes, it would likely prove difficult. Despite this, the Demon Patron did not offer notion towards this clear discrepancy, preferring to opt for silence as she carried on.

In silent, fluid fashion, tendrils crept up from all direction, slowly looming in as though to guide the blind into the basin should she hesitate too long.
(Terminus)
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[17:10] Syrta's pursuit of power would not be stopped by mere loss of sight, and pain. Slow her down most certainly, but her desires far outstripped her sense of hesitation. That vision of absolute dominion with only her Patron above her was one she could live with for eternity.

Her prior preparations before hand would now revealed, having not moved from her spot, she reached down and grabbed the buckets of water, filling the basin, before opening up one of the bulbs of blood, pouring its contents into the water. She was now entirely operating on memory, and if anything had moved during her blindness she might actually die here.

Reaching down again, buckets discarded the sides, she grabbed the bowl of grinded materials, before climbing into the basin, doing her best to lay inside of it, before dropping the bowls contents down in with her.

The Centricon however would prove to be the easiest of the preparations, having memorized the page it was on, her hand casting away the bowl and manifesting it, turning to the correct page, as she held her mouth above the water to chant. Pain was starting to affect her voice now, the self destructive nature of removing ones eyes, and the fact her flayed and bandaged form was now soaking in the basin with everything else, Syrta would bite out each word of the ritual, through gritted teeth.

"Coniuro eum ad vires explendas visionis"

With the words spoken, she sent her mana into the rune page, activating the spell, she placed the book on the brim of the basin, carefully balanced in such a way if it were to fall, it would fall to the floor instead of inside the basin with her. As she lay there, the hard parts of the ritual now complete, did she allow a soft moan of pain to escape her lips. She would definitely be unfit to move around much for awhile after this. At least until she could find a more, uncaring of why it happened type of medic to help her. Nosey medics tended to be a problem.
(Syrta)
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[17:41] 'Coniuro eum ad vires explendas visionis'
Was it the pain and anguish?
The devotion alone?
The flesh offered up?

Perhaps, it was a combination of the sort that empowered the Terminal further with every interaction. Its very muscle writhed with the passing moments. The eyes across the cavern scoured its every detail, every detraction from the original norm of silence and stillness. It was as though every inch of his new form was stimulated by this...

Feeling alive, in such morbid stature... At least, by demonic standards.

The centricon took to its familiar mauve glow, gravitating into the air. It conjured gusts of wind to encompass it, all-the-while, hair-like tendrils flailed out like sea-grasses beneath the concoction in the basin. They brushed at the ritual vessel's back and arms, slowly rising up to entangle her legs... Arms...
Torso... And soon, at her hair, drawing her beneath the surface.

Air would be denied from her, allowing her to slowly suffer the fate of fluid kneading past her lips with pending gasps to breathe. The hair-like constructs brushed skin nigh sensually, before finding place to burrow. They resembled exposed nerves, fusing themselves to her own mana circuitry... Her own nervous system.

"Embrace the truth that is, the blindness of your humanity... For mankind was never to become true seers of eternal Dark. It is those whom were borne of Hel, that knew such power intimately...

Welcome it, within your vessel." Mana surged through the newly fused nervous system to induce spasms throughout her body. Perhaps it'd induce a gasp to take upon the substance encompassing her? Perhaps, she'd manage to will it not so.

Though, the micro-tendrils continued their crawl, slithering over her to encase her whole. Eventually squirming into her face, sinking into the slits of her eyes and gouging the pits.

The flesh-basin adopted the shine of the occult, gattled with the dancing ebonic static of the Helcasting in-works. Lifeforce was being siphoned from her very body, raw vitality feeding into the mana-vascularity encompassing the basin for the daemonic Patron gazing down upon the ritual-casting with wicked glee.

It was an unorthodox fashion of Occult casting... Not merely sucking away raw vitality, but redirecting it... Pulsating it back unto the source with adeptness unparalleled to mortal counterparts. Advanced telekinesis allowed for a refined point to be exacted, building up pressure behind the damaged eyelids. Any bandages from prior extractions were lifted, weaved away by the combination of fluid and tendril alike.

Meager gravity magic had evolved... Spatial manipulation combined with the manipulation of its mutated flesh and the occult; it'd forge implantations of itself within the body of Syrta. Foreign presences of... Eyes? Demon eyes... Terminus' eyes, now bound to the Ursidae's skull. The nerves behind them interlacing with that of the brain. The alien mana of the proclaimed Demon Patron was still at-work, albeit at a micro-scale. The continuous act of this wrought further suffering... Pain that would see no end.

For how long? To what end?
One thing was certain, the fluid was gone... Absorbed in the ritual. Though eyelids could be parted to look around, they would relay no information to their bearer. The world was still shrouded in darkness, vaguely shaken by the subtle detection of movement.

Perhaps, it'd be a day... A week? A month? One thing was certain, to those outside of the Ursidae, they could gaze upon her to see bloodied sclera now implanted in her head. Lavender pupils imitated the many encompassing the cavern, taking to a vermillion shine as mana involuntarily was siphoned away from the body to fuel them.

"The power of the Occult is to rend and destroy... But to understand it, is to enable one's self to reconstruct that which is broken down." Through the power of the occult, it siphoned away from the girl, itself and former victims, to funnel the stolen essence back upon her.

"Exorcists believe their powers to be all that can heal... But the eternal dark, has secrets to those whom would dare to explore its depths."

Degeneration... And Forced generation of flesh.

"You are no seer for the moment... Only through darkness in the looming times, will your eyes strengthen to see once more."
The flesh basin flexed outward, as to meld with the flesh-moss once more, leaving Syrta to lie on the ground.

"Rise."

(Terminus)
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[17:41] {Item} You drop Alchemy Eyes Potion.
[20:51] Syrta's could only feel the hair like tendrils crawl over her form, like little strands of fabric pulling around her before pulling her down, as began to slowly drown, the liquid making it past her lips despite her best efforts to hold her breath.

The spasms through her body, as she allowed the tendrils to fuse to her, caused more air to escape out her nose, as her body felt like it was sinking under the ocean, her sight gone, and her body encased. However her patron still spoke, and through sheer force of will, she held her mouth shut. She would not allow herself to die her by drowning.

However her weakened body was put near the absolute limit of breaking, as her body had its vitality drained and shoved back in, tendrils digging into her eye sockets forming anew. Syrta felt the pressure reform behind her eyelids, knowing eyes had formed, the pain in her head clear enough to tell her that.

The fluid around the young bear kin had finally be used, as the feeling of drowning finally passed, leaving her coughing heavily, hacking up the ritual water from her lungs, as she struggled to pull herself out of the basin, the pain she was now in rather crippling. Add to that her world was still dark only made matters worse.

Still she could hear her Patron, and for her that was enough for now. Syrta could mend in time, the flesh cavern a perfect spot, to suffer in her agony. Choking cries could be heard from her form, both of joy and of suffering, as she ungracefully fell out of the basin onto the floor, and lay there for a few moments, her hands feeling out the area around her.
(Syrta)
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[21:29] The flesh constructs recede back to the flooring from whence they came. The Terminal looked on.
The very drive to strive beyond standard means...
To reach for, what mankind never needed... It was a Greed.

It was to justify Pride.
It was sin, suffering... and to the demon?
It was delightful... Something many of its kin would dream of.

Not merely being able to satiate one's malefic existence, but drawing others to willingly come to it. Its very being came to exist because of the folly of mortal-kin, and now -- it would become a catalyst to enable mortal descent into further depravity.

"Your suffering leaves you feeble-bodied... You can hardly see... Your skin rended from your form. Though, there is a ritual that can fix you... Heal you from any injury imparted upon your body."
(Terminus)
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[21:55] Syrta could barely speak, but she did her best to nod in response. She was hurting, and while she could do the ritual, her body was in no shape to handle it, let alone read the words. Her darkness was practically absolute until her eyes could heal.

Still she could feel the power from her eyes, and her patron could potentially see through them as well. However that remained to be seen, as she struggled to sit up and stare blankly at what she assumed was the Terminal.

To onlookers Syrta was a mess, a walking medical emergency to most, a work of art to her patron. And her mind? Well, she definitely wasn't sane to begin with, but recent events had definitely made it until she had healed and mastered her own pain, that she couldn't really blend in to society.
(Syrta)
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[22:26] {Won Restrained RPB against Syrta}
[22:30] ** Terminus has inflicted an injury upon Syrta. ("Overloaded Perception", "The light is practically blinding! Trying to take a gander at your surroundings earns you a splitting headache, but you find that your other senses are picking up on the demonic implant. Despite the agony and lack of sight, you find yourself guided towards 'articles of interest'. Over the next few months, vision gradually improves. Oddly enough, the definition feels almost sharper than it once was... Too sharp.", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[22:57] Syrta says, "Y-your will is hea..rd.. Pa..tro..n"
[22:58] Syrta struggles heavily to manifest the Centricon, her body reeling in pain as she did.
(Syrta)
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[23:04] Terminus says, "Surely in time, you can invoke the ritual to sanctify your very flesh..."
[23:04] {Item} You picked up Centricon Of The End. Dropped by Syrta..
[23:05] {Item} You drop Centricon Of The End.
[23:12] Syrta says, "I shall strive to exceed your expectations."
[23:18] Terminus says, "Let it be so... Time will showcase your capability with the boons I provide."
[23:34] With a muffled and pained cry, the bear kin stood to her feet, tears forming under new eyes in response to the stimulus as she did her best to remain standing upright. She would have to learn to walk again, and rely on a net of her own mana to 'feel' the area out so she could at least not blindly walk into walls.

However every moment of it just caused pain, and to anyone nearby, the agony could be felt coming off her in waves. Only her drive was keeping her standing at this point, her sanity probably long gone if she had been willing to remove both her eyes prior. But her madness did not leave her in a gibbering mess, no for hers was a madness of the soul. Forever altered in her Patrons image.

With staggering steps, she made for the exit, intent on getting what she could done. Information was easy enough, she just had to talk to people. After that well, the rest came after. Maybe she could kidnap a medic to mend her, and sacrifice them as well. Or maybe they would be just as insane as her and would convert.. Her head filled with ideas, plans in the making if one was to be generous.

With soft words, she smiled, a rictus grin of someone who had been given knowledge of secrets that would shatter a lesser being. And for that and power alone, would she remain ever loyal to her Patron.

"Usque Terminus."
(Syrta)
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