Rift attempts, two separate occasions!

 Once again, with children left to their devices, and time found for the Kyros father to slip away. Into the fold once more, the studies of rift to call him - left off a note of success, that crack into the realms of the method to which would have him receive a long sought prize. Diving in this time, no time to muddle about, no need to; with understanding came field study.

Something not truly possible in a dusty old Spire in Alteros, to the common untrained eye. A host to magics not commonly seen, a bathing room of Depravity to go along with it - Ambiance, and Depraved art; things needed, and/or a direct result of Rifts. There before him, to aid in his attempts. No time would be wasted today...

Hands raised, erected before him, both - with fingers spaced apart, and outstretched, arms at the ready, to express the full length - the mana coating would begin. This process, to hold the imagery of flames, what he was most accustomed to; fluidity upkept, how they danced in a controlled lamp-post. Set to swarm a target, but without the addition of wind, or outward force; subtle would their encroachment be, to bely the truth within.

This, is to be how the mana, kept raw, untainted by actual flames, be them of magical design, or a natural occurrence of the element itself - a focal point - to have the energy smooth itself along the base of body, to hug his flesh, his clothing. The safety bubble for this test, to allow for most basic of attempts to be made. The next step: Depravity as a sensory.

Not something truly possible, but to draw on Occultism - what it inspired, incited; feelings of malice, destruction, decay. Not all to be true, but what is taken at face-value, what was needed now. These things, a gateway into finding depravity, feeling it; access to some of his darker thoughts - the mourning of a Sister lost, the fight with his mother, having her attempt to kill him, and he, her.

The focus, the one to give the most: Those to deal with Akame - specifically resolve after the death of twin, to have her fade from this world. Something tormented over, to decide in the end, and in a way; give self to the depravity - to go against the life stream as intended, accept a purpose leading to Death. With this, to circulate in his mind, letting it spread the festering that would normally bubble with it? To be ceased, as only the purest of emotions are strived for when relying on the powers of occultism.

"Tears in space.. Two points, connected by residue magic to line the area..." Mumbling to himself, voice low, his gaze - half-lidded optics to overlook. His hands, the coating to spread, take them, and with it, his sight - inner eye; what little he practiced from Claude's teachings long ago, to come up. Sensory, not a possibility, but a gateway, having once felt tinges, twitches.

While fresh, a grip forward - in the empty air, not a wild guess, as was done before; mimicking a baby grasping at straws, no. This was not the case - a feeling, gut feeling - urging him on, a point, a specific point. To be located, and seized! Contact kept, but to not limit himself to thought process alone, leaving brain to computerize, and adjust accordingly, focusing on the physical's bond with the meta-physical.

He wrenches forth, strength unheard of, to, for a moment, tear into the fabric - revealing - progress. A partial rift, of a few centimeters in diameters. The first part lies completed. This prize, glowing, a spacial entity; yellow glow in it's center, eerie, to reek, a grim foreboding. Something forgotten?

The focus on a image to pertain to location - the fool's rift, this was. But, with travel not truly the goal, but materializing it, if only for a moment. As was the case, the fibers, he would call them - linked by hands, to grip at invisible "plugs" the magic around, to be suckled in, his coating, having an effect to pertain to opposite polarity to attract for the duration. In short: It's sustain-ment is far from self-sufficient.
(Tertius Kyros)

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 With a need for further field practice, and a grasp of an art - if only somewhat. The Kyros is to step into the marshes, find an area promoting an open terrain, so that he may freely stretch his theories.Those thoughts - tightly wound within his mind, the ideas that came with them. It was now appropriate to let them loose. Distancing himself from the problems of others; the sudden arrival of Kin, distracting him - one having everything stripped from her, by another.

Selatiel's plight understood, and due to this - his aid offered. Conversations with a friend, the discussions of ways to rid the Tsuchi of her problems; assassination, to be sworn to secrecy of such matters. The Kyros while a party to this had little to say, but a lot to fathom - through his practice, his notes obtained; a solution to an act of assassination. How it could be done, the use of Rift would be key in their schemes if such were to come to pass.

Temporal shifts, now accustomed in a way - the information easily recited off in his mind. No time is waste, a hand is outstretched, and coating begins; minute reactions now. A reflex to take over, to do this for him, as he focuses on the imagery - a step constantly forgotten. To be remembered this time; nothing big, a simple image of a place he had been before, dear to him, to better visualize.

This would be.. His home, his desk, to narrow it down even further - how he had left it before leaving, his way made out here into marshes. A lone apple, a snack of his; purposely forgotten for this test.

Letting such visions cement, a breathe released, the thrum of mana; release of tendrils that would correlate to a will - his need to discover the imbalances around him, one big enough to manipulate - to take seconds, minutes; time is hastened in the mind of the Kyros. With diligence though, does success come - one such instance found, and to seize it, as he had done in the past.

This time, with experience, to quickly connect as he had done, letting his hands do little of the work past actually tearing into the air infront of him; cognitive solutions to overtake, the "conduits" are connected - sparks fly for a moment, the magic in the area, to be generated by the caster - his own mixed added to it for reinforcement, and to bait out any ambient energies left to free-float. It compounds at the source, feeding it.

A small circular open in the air, a wound in the life stream itself - partial tears, as he had come to call them. This was the result of training, of an ability he had only began to test. With this test comes a new success though - connection with the other side; no longer just a void to greet him, instead the inner workings of abode, his abode. The apple the main point of focus.

No time was to be wasted though - control set to slip at any moment, the next motion should be tested immediately thought the Father. Without further delay, the Crosier, removed from his back - held in one hand, the other: extended out towards the portal. Why the need for the Crosier? A focal point for any wayward magic he had yet to expend, to use this as a tower of a sort, to actively draw it in, for immediate transmission to the tear - efforts to keep it open long enough so as to not lose anything of value!

Raw mana to flow through it, and for a moment, a lapse - shutter in make up, minor distortion; image lost of the other side. Hesitance.

To immediately reconnect, a hiccup - one to correct itself, the tear, empowered more than ever; reflection perfected. Without further ado.. The hand is dipped in!

Not knowing what to expect, thinking it would pass through, a image atop water in a sort of way; optics closed for a moment due to this, when opened, to his surprise - physical contact with the apple. Felt, gripped - causing joyous celebration in the confines of mind. Forgetting what he was doing, a sudden shrinking, noticed by the Kyros is caught at the edge of the make up of portal!

Eyes to widen seeing this, a frantic attempt to pull his hand back - the apple is dropped, his appendage? Returned. No harm done, yet the proof of his success - left at home, a low rumble to resound, left hungry, and without a crowning achievement for this event.
(Tertius Kyros)