[OOC WARNING: THIS IS JUST A DREAM]
After a long day, a certain Teledden would lay his head down in the grassy fields of Floral Court, slowly drifting into a deep slumber.
As the world faded into darkness and the light of a dream came to vision, the elf would find himself surrounded by roughly three or two vampires, maybe even regular people, and suddenly he would find himself in the body of a green clothed elf with deep brown hair.
"Malcolm" was all that was heard, before he clenched his fists and suddenly the winds in the now painted citadel deep in the sewers picked up. Like a vortex, the magic in this dream would grow out of control, spiralling currents of wind drawing debris and rocks into the air like a spinning circle.
The others nearby, faces not so recognizable would be in sheer terror as rocks and debris picked up from the ground, and spun around in the violent vortex, the elf at the eye of the so-called underground hurricane. Cuts and bruises marking the others as they screamed out in terror.
In his mind, the bright light of the Exist overcame him, and as if possessed by magic itself he would be relentless. Almost feeling like an Arken, no, God.
At this point, he could only feel the spiralling colours of the blue, white, and crushing force of the Exist behind it, migraines in this dream were felt, yet the screams of terror of his victims still held hauntingly so.
After 7 minutes, storm clouds formed in the old sewer citadel, and lightning begun to crack as thunder made it's entrance. Just then, the elf passed out.
Aveilen woke up in a startled frenzy, cold sweats as he looked around in Floral Court. No one was there, no magic, nothing. Was it a memory, a dream, he could not even tell. It felt so real and lucid. The elf got up, dusted himself off and went about his day as usual... haunted by, a memory which he didn't even believe to have.
After a long day, a certain Teledden would lay his head down in the grassy fields of Floral Court, slowly drifting into a deep slumber.
As the world faded into darkness and the light of a dream came to vision, the elf would find himself surrounded by roughly three or two vampires, maybe even regular people, and suddenly he would find himself in the body of a green clothed elf with deep brown hair.
"Malcolm" was all that was heard, before he clenched his fists and suddenly the winds in the now painted citadel deep in the sewers picked up. Like a vortex, the magic in this dream would grow out of control, spiralling currents of wind drawing debris and rocks into the air like a spinning circle.
The others nearby, faces not so recognizable would be in sheer terror as rocks and debris picked up from the ground, and spun around in the violent vortex, the elf at the eye of the so-called underground hurricane. Cuts and bruises marking the others as they screamed out in terror.
In his mind, the bright light of the Exist overcame him, and as if possessed by magic itself he would be relentless. Almost feeling like an Arken, no, God.
At this point, he could only feel the spiralling colours of the blue, white, and crushing force of the Exist behind it, migraines in this dream were felt, yet the screams of terror of his victims still held hauntingly so.
After 7 minutes, storm clouds formed in the old sewer citadel, and lightning begun to crack as thunder made it's entrance. Just then, the elf passed out.
Aveilen woke up in a startled frenzy, cold sweats as he looked around in Floral Court. No one was there, no magic, nothing. Was it a memory, a dream, he could not even tell. It felt so real and lucid. The elf got up, dusted himself off and went about his day as usual... haunted by, a memory which he didn't even believe to have.