[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]A brisk wind whips across the beach, tugging and pulling at Imperia's fur, as if trying to steer her away from the violent waves pounding against the shore. But she does not relent, content with her wandering along the beach no matter how foul the weather. The air is sharp with the scent of salt and rain, distant rumbles blowing in with the breeze as massive, inky black clouds build on the horizon. She has yet to see the brilliant flash of lighting, even as the heavens seems to thunder and roar, so she is not afraid. "The sea is never still / It pounds on the shore / Restless as a young heart / Hunting," recites the girl as she dreamily drifts across the uneven pebbles. Her mind is elsewhere, lost in some distant dreamscape to entertain her vivid imagination. Given the poem, it is not unlikely that she is imaging herself as some aristocratic heroin in a Victorian romance novel.
"The sea speaks / And only the stormy hearts / Know what it says: / it is the face / of a rough mother speaking." Imperia does not even know where she learned this poem. Perhaps it was long ago, or only two weeks prior. But it doesn't matter, for her brain works in strange ways. It latches onto things it finds interesting, and never lets it go. Poems, stories, songs, random facts—all are stored within the valuable banks of knowledge within her mind. Forgive and forget does not apply to her. While she always forgives, Imperia never forgets. She remembers, forever and always. Sometimes this particular skill can be cumbersome, as her brain never seems to rest from the overflow of information, but it does come in handy. And sometimes it is best used to build on the drama of an oncoming thunderstorm by reciting a poem about the sea.
The young she-wolf does not seem to notice how rough the sea has become since she began her walk, the waves pounding the shore with such a ferocity that would rightfully scare any creature of common sense. But something has a hold of her. Something that Imperia cannot quite explain. It silences her, the poem ending before even reaching the third stanza. Luminous silver eyes glaze over, and her limbs begin to move of their own accord. Imperia is vaguely aware of a thin, glowing thread no wider than a needle sprouting from her chest and disappearing somewhere at sea. Small thought it is, she can feel it tugging on her, pulling her into the waves. I should not be doing this, she thinks to herself, but Imperia is no longer in control. Something is guiding her here. Steering her into wild, untamed sea.
Salty water laps at her ankles, and then begins tugging desperately at her shins. One moment she is on the beach, and the next she is submerged all the way to her chest. How bizarre. None of this even feels real. Suddenly, a shadow is cast over her head, what feels like rain, drip-dropping onto her head. Peri only has time to glance up before several tonnes of water crash over her head.
The sea swallows her whole, thrashing and spinning her around until she looses all orientation. Which way is up? Which way is down? It's all the same, grey water. Salt burns her eyes, and her muscles strain as she swims desperately in any direction in a futile attempt to reach the surface. A shadowy blackness begins to build up on the edges of her vision, and her lungs scream for air. I am going to die, she thinks, almost if stating a simple fact. She should be hysterical. She should be terrified. And yet, she feels oddly detached. Imperia knows she's dying. She can feel the pain in her bones as the weight of the ocean slowly crushes her as she is sucked down, down. But all she can focus on is that tiny thread which still drags her deeper and deeper into the depths. She can still see it, even when everything goes black.
Wake up, my child.
An ancient voice the sound of earth shifting and cracking startles her from the peaceful sleep of death. It is unlike any other noise she has heard before. Silver eyes blink one, twice. All is dark, like ink spilled across paper. Seconds feel like hours, years, and slowly Imperia becomes aware that it is not all darkness. Gone is the sea. She now floats amidst the stars. There is no need to breathe. No need to think. She just...is. You must be wondering why I brought you here. The voice says again, both terrifying and gentle. It comes from nowhere, but it is everywhere. Imperia can feel it in her bones. "..Yes..." replies the girl, her voice small in the vast emptiness of space. She is vaguely aware of incomprehensible distance between herself and the stars, but something tells her that if she reaches out, she might be able to touch it. Curious, she does exactly that, and experiences something akin to a delayed sense of shock when it winks out of existence upon her touch. Strange.
"Where is here exactly?" For some reason, she does not feel all too concerned that an unknown entity ripped her from reality and suspended her in space just to have a chat. Peri is more curious about where she is, than anything else. Everywhere and nowhere, the voice replies cryptically. But that does not matter. I brought you here to offer you a gift, my most devoted one. Most devoted one? Does that mean that she is speaking to...to the Maker? Her God, her Goddess? As much as Imperia believes that the Maker has intervened more than once in her own life, she never once considered the thought that it might make her special to have the creator of everything intervene on her behalf. She just thought it was how things worked, that the Maker had a plan for her that served the purpose of maintaining the balance of the universe, or something. Faith doesn't always have to make sense, you just have to have it.
But now her god—goddess—is speaking to her directly. The realization is enough to steal away Imperia's voice, and she is left staring out into the void as the Maker's voice once again rattles her bones with it's immense power. Her speechlessness seems to have amused the deity. You are precious, dear, it says. 'Tis a shame that not more people realize it. Were it anyone else besides the creator of the universe, Peri might have disagreed, but she holds her tongue and the voice continues. Take this blessing, sweet child, and use it to continue your good work. She wants to ask what that is, but is then filled with a sense of understanding. Helping people, that is what the Maker means. Peri does not even seem to realize that the feeling was not even her own, but a foreign one. The thread which brought her to the place now glows even brighter before. What looks like a ball of light builds in the distance before it comes rocketing down the tiny thread and striking Imperia's chest with such a force that she blacks out once more.
She is vaguely aware of one final goodbye from the voice, but she cannot seem to remember what it was as she drifts through...something. A first it is peaceful, as if she is drifting aimlessly across water. And then, out of nowhere, she is literally launched through the air. The sea spits her mercilessly out onto the beach, and she tumbles several meters before rolling onto her back. Rain sprinkles her face, washing away the salty tears. With a groan, Imperia staggers to her paws, wincing at the stabbing ache in her skull. "Mon dieu," she groans. As wonderful as meeting her god was, the she-wolf wishes that it would have been less painful. There is no sign of the blessing anywhere—she checks at least three times. Same silver fur, same pebbles underfoot, same waves on the horizon. Nothing has changed. Only the pounding in her skull and an odd warmth behind her eyes. Otherwise, Peri is at a loss.
tldr;; Peri is being her usual nerd self while a storm is brewing when something unseen to the naked eye drags her out to sea. She drowns, only to wake up in space?? Her patron deity, the Maker, speaks to her. They grant her a blessing (aka power) before returning her to shore. You literally do not have to read any of this if you just wants your character to witness peri getting sucked out to sea and then literally launched out barely even five minutes later.
"The sea speaks / And only the stormy hearts / Know what it says: / it is the face / of a rough mother speaking." Imperia does not even know where she learned this poem. Perhaps it was long ago, or only two weeks prior. But it doesn't matter, for her brain works in strange ways. It latches onto things it finds interesting, and never lets it go. Poems, stories, songs, random facts—all are stored within the valuable banks of knowledge within her mind. Forgive and forget does not apply to her. While she always forgives, Imperia never forgets. She remembers, forever and always. Sometimes this particular skill can be cumbersome, as her brain never seems to rest from the overflow of information, but it does come in handy. And sometimes it is best used to build on the drama of an oncoming thunderstorm by reciting a poem about the sea.
The young she-wolf does not seem to notice how rough the sea has become since she began her walk, the waves pounding the shore with such a ferocity that would rightfully scare any creature of common sense. But something has a hold of her. Something that Imperia cannot quite explain. It silences her, the poem ending before even reaching the third stanza. Luminous silver eyes glaze over, and her limbs begin to move of their own accord. Imperia is vaguely aware of a thin, glowing thread no wider than a needle sprouting from her chest and disappearing somewhere at sea. Small thought it is, she can feel it tugging on her, pulling her into the waves. I should not be doing this, she thinks to herself, but Imperia is no longer in control. Something is guiding her here. Steering her into wild, untamed sea.
Salty water laps at her ankles, and then begins tugging desperately at her shins. One moment she is on the beach, and the next she is submerged all the way to her chest. How bizarre. None of this even feels real. Suddenly, a shadow is cast over her head, what feels like rain, drip-dropping onto her head. Peri only has time to glance up before several tonnes of water crash over her head.
The sea swallows her whole, thrashing and spinning her around until she looses all orientation. Which way is up? Which way is down? It's all the same, grey water. Salt burns her eyes, and her muscles strain as she swims desperately in any direction in a futile attempt to reach the surface. A shadowy blackness begins to build up on the edges of her vision, and her lungs scream for air. I am going to die, she thinks, almost if stating a simple fact. She should be hysterical. She should be terrified. And yet, she feels oddly detached. Imperia knows she's dying. She can feel the pain in her bones as the weight of the ocean slowly crushes her as she is sucked down, down. But all she can focus on is that tiny thread which still drags her deeper and deeper into the depths. She can still see it, even when everything goes black.
Wake up, my child.
An ancient voice the sound of earth shifting and cracking startles her from the peaceful sleep of death. It is unlike any other noise she has heard before. Silver eyes blink one, twice. All is dark, like ink spilled across paper. Seconds feel like hours, years, and slowly Imperia becomes aware that it is not all darkness. Gone is the sea. She now floats amidst the stars. There is no need to breathe. No need to think. She just...is. You must be wondering why I brought you here. The voice says again, both terrifying and gentle. It comes from nowhere, but it is everywhere. Imperia can feel it in her bones. "..Yes..." replies the girl, her voice small in the vast emptiness of space. She is vaguely aware of incomprehensible distance between herself and the stars, but something tells her that if she reaches out, she might be able to touch it. Curious, she does exactly that, and experiences something akin to a delayed sense of shock when it winks out of existence upon her touch. Strange.
"Where is here exactly?" For some reason, she does not feel all too concerned that an unknown entity ripped her from reality and suspended her in space just to have a chat. Peri is more curious about where she is, than anything else. Everywhere and nowhere, the voice replies cryptically. But that does not matter. I brought you here to offer you a gift, my most devoted one. Most devoted one? Does that mean that she is speaking to...to the Maker? Her God, her Goddess? As much as Imperia believes that the Maker has intervened more than once in her own life, she never once considered the thought that it might make her special to have the creator of everything intervene on her behalf. She just thought it was how things worked, that the Maker had a plan for her that served the purpose of maintaining the balance of the universe, or something. Faith doesn't always have to make sense, you just have to have it.
But now her god—goddess—is speaking to her directly. The realization is enough to steal away Imperia's voice, and she is left staring out into the void as the Maker's voice once again rattles her bones with it's immense power. Her speechlessness seems to have amused the deity. You are precious, dear, it says. 'Tis a shame that not more people realize it. Were it anyone else besides the creator of the universe, Peri might have disagreed, but she holds her tongue and the voice continues. Take this blessing, sweet child, and use it to continue your good work. She wants to ask what that is, but is then filled with a sense of understanding. Helping people, that is what the Maker means. Peri does not even seem to realize that the feeling was not even her own, but a foreign one. The thread which brought her to the place now glows even brighter before. What looks like a ball of light builds in the distance before it comes rocketing down the tiny thread and striking Imperia's chest with such a force that she blacks out once more.
She is vaguely aware of one final goodbye from the voice, but she cannot seem to remember what it was as she drifts through...something. A first it is peaceful, as if she is drifting aimlessly across water. And then, out of nowhere, she is literally launched through the air. The sea spits her mercilessly out onto the beach, and she tumbles several meters before rolling onto her back. Rain sprinkles her face, washing away the salty tears. With a groan, Imperia staggers to her paws, wincing at the stabbing ache in her skull. "Mon dieu," she groans. As wonderful as meeting her god was, the she-wolf wishes that it would have been less painful. There is no sign of the blessing anywhere—she checks at least three times. Same silver fur, same pebbles underfoot, same waves on the horizon. Nothing has changed. Only the pounding in her skull and an odd warmth behind her eyes. Otherwise, Peri is at a loss.
tldr;; Peri is being her usual nerd self while a storm is brewing when something unseen to the naked eye drags her out to sea. She drowns, only to wake up in space?? Her patron deity, the Maker, speaks to her. They grant her a blessing (aka power) before returning her to shore. You literally do not have to read any of this if you just wants your character to witness peri getting sucked out to sea and then literally launched out barely even five minutes later.
![[Image: ru8sUY1.png]](https://i.imgur.com/ru8sUY1.png)
![[Image: Jz5nvpm.png]](https://imgur.com/Jz5nvpm.png)
