She looks down at her blue markings where they're exposed on the left side - cut the sleeves off, she wouldn't hide it. No siren, apart from Steele, she supposed, had ever hidden their markings. Maya and Lilith definitely had. She wouldn't either. But even so, - "one of six that can ever be in the galaxy at any given time. When one of us dies, another is born." She hooks up, and its rehearsed. "That's about as much as I really can tell you about that anyway. None of us... really understand what we are I think. We're just born."
Her hand lifts, her body glows, and in her left palm, an orb of light forms, white and clear. It has no substance, it gives off no heat - but it is purely hers, and with it, the air ripples, like it had only ever been something to shape. "We're all a bit different though - I've got something of an affinity for illusions, shaping things, altering malleable states. Whether that be a world of code like I did in your head or - "
They're not standing in a corridor anymore. Around them, they stood now on a rocky outcrop overlooking a grassy open fields. Above them, a sky is open and blue. A moon and a space station and a flying city. Water from streams rush by and distantly a stalker and a thresher fight each other. Clawing at each other in a battle of dominance that tears the earth up, spitting acid and fire at each other. Life as she knew it best. To its details, it is exact, the way the grass dapples in shadows, the splash of drops of water against the bare rocks. The breeze that moves her hair, the sound of the grass crunching. A world alive.
It takes its toll to hold, the sheer of sweat that breaks on her skin for holding the illusion of something so vast. "- an illusionary world." A sliding sense of reality that could make everything seem unreal.
no subject
She looks down at her blue markings where they're exposed on the left side - cut the sleeves off, she wouldn't hide it. No siren, apart from Steele, she supposed, had ever hidden their markings. Maya and Lilith definitely had. She wouldn't either. But even so, - "one of six that can ever be in the galaxy at any given time. When one of us dies, another is born." She hooks up, and its rehearsed. "That's about as much as I really can tell you about that anyway. None of us... really understand what we are I think. We're just born."
Her hand lifts, her body glows, and in her left palm, an orb of light forms, white and clear. It has no substance, it gives off no heat - but it is purely hers, and with it, the air ripples, like it had only ever been something to shape. "We're all a bit different though - I've got something of an affinity for illusions, shaping things, altering malleable states. Whether that be a world of code like I did in your head or - "
They're not standing in a corridor anymore. Around them, they stood now on a rocky outcrop overlooking a grassy open fields. Above them, a sky is open and blue. A moon and a space station and a flying city. Water from streams rush by and distantly a stalker and a thresher fight each other. Clawing at each other in a battle of dominance that tears the earth up, spitting acid and fire at each other. Life as she knew it best. To its details, it is exact, the way the grass dapples in shadows, the splash of drops of water against the bare rocks. The breeze that moves her hair, the sound of the grass crunching. A world alive.
It takes its toll to hold, the sheer of sweat that breaks on her skin for holding the illusion of something so vast. "- an illusionary world." A sliding sense of reality that could make everything seem unreal.