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((You'll figure out the name soon enough))
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Date Posted: 18:51:16 08/26/02 Mon
The silver cloud fades into a mist, and the frail outline of a woman can barely be seen through it. The cloud thickens again, then thins out (once more revealing the outline) and continues doing so for some time. Finally a loud 'BOOM' erupts from the cloud and it fills the outline.
Now the outline is solid and visible, and the figure is filled out by the cloudstuff. Slowly, thin silver boots appear and the cloud moves around within the silvery, three demensional, (yes, ahead of it's time again, but I want to create an image.) figure. Small black lighteningbolts wander through the array of clouds within the outline, and well-muscled, darkly tanned, legs appear as the clouds writhe upwards. Violet cloth becomes visible, simple and thin, stopping at the figure's ankle in a loose flap. The clouds are storming on the figure's waist (are you getting sick of the world figure yet?) as the limp cloth is fitted in the appropriate fashion over the form's hips. It's wearing a woman's loincloth. The clouds suddenly disappear and the rest of the flesh-being appears within the outline. It's a paxton, no older nor younger than 35. The tunic and tan skin have spread onto the young woman's skin, Both materialistic things stretched over a muscled upper-torso. The rose-colored tunic reveals a tiny bit of flesh between where it stops (obviously too small) and the loincloth begins. The capped sleeves at the top (of the tunic, duh) are spread sleekly over the woman's slightly broad shoulders. A thin hand reaches up to the being gleaming, china-doll like face. It is joined by her other hand and the hands follow the broad red silk ribbon to the back of her head, where an array of silky black hair is tied into a fanned-out bun.
The newcomer snarls some sort of curse at herself and jerks her hands around at the back of her head. The graceful serenity of her presence disappears as quickly as it came as her hands work at the ribbon knot. Beneath the sealed, cherry red lips on the face, curses in rapid elvish are being shot at the ribbon. Beneath pale, closed eyelids, startling violet eyes blink rapidly. "Finally!" The figure exclaims. The knot comes loose and her hair topples out of it's bun into long, relaxed curls. The first mask falls, pure white china shatters on the ground, and reveals the newcomer's face.
More pale white skin that appears painted, judged against the tan skin of the rest of the paxton's body. Once more, cherry red lips and closed eyelids.
The paxton's dragonfly-style wings spread out behind her, what little light there is on the mountain shining through the opaque wings and filling the area in front of her feet with what appears to be sunlight.
The paxton woman smiles. Her lips don't move.
It's another mask.
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