Flesh and Frustration [Intro]

by **Isikais** on April 8th, 2010, 6:47 pm

Flesh and Frustration
1st Night of Spring, 510 AV

..... Skin and sinew, bones and blemishes. Perfection was never the goal. Flesh never forms perfectly. The occasional freckle, discretely uneven philtral columns, the incongruous diagonal of the clavicle. Every aspect of the fleshy form tells a story of its creation. Each step from perfection endows the frame with an individual mark, unique to its owner. Biceps, triceps, quadriceps. Carpals, metacarpals, phalanges. One could get lost in the myriad aspects of the physical frame, the infinite iterations of corporal arrangement. Isikais often did; especially when lucky enough to acquire a body so young, fit, and free of injury.

..... It was the thirty-sixth day of inhabiting this body, and the twenty-second he had spent standing in front of the full length mirror in his room. Familiarity with his natural state was paramount in his line of work. One slight error in judgment could cause the whole frame to collapse under the weight of imbalance. Such an error could catastrophically limit the longevity of the vessel. Conversely, a carefully shifted muscle mass, a slight tweak to the patella or a nudge to the scapula might just delay the onset of degradation just a little longer.

..... So, on the thirty-sixth day of inhabiting, the twenty-second of observation, Isikais breathed deeply, not for the air, or to steady his hands, but to expand his lungs to capacity, and expose a slightly misaligned rib that might some day soon begin to sag due to atrophied muscle. Eyes locked onto the slight bulge of the twelfth and lowest of the ribs, Isikais ran his middle finger over his palm, rubbing the runes painted there, and they began to glow slightly at the enacting of their trigger. Index finger to little finger, he traced the rib along his lower abdomen until flesh and muscle obscured its location from the surface. Applying an even, but firm pressure, his fingers slowly slid into the flesh and muscle as easily as a sculptor would reach into a mound fresh wet clay.

..... It was not a painless process, but several hundred years of practice dulled the sharp sting of shaping his own flesh. With an adept hand he traced the remaining length of the rib until he reached the point where the curve met the vertebrae. There, at the base of the rib, just a hairline fracture that would soon splinter and shatter the connection without blood flow to fuse the bone back to the base. Fingertips pushed into the bone, shoving marrow into place and with a slight flick of his thumb, the latticework of osseous tissue extended, reaching out to the vertebrae. With equal patience Isikais pulled his hand from his side, careful to avoid any further alteration as he willed the flesh back to its natural state.

..... Eyes narrowed as he inspected the area in the mirror, tracing the curve of his torso, trying to detect any further or residual defect. Seeing none, he returned to his default stance, feet parted slightly, face front, and body upright. It would seem a noble posture to most, practiced and poised, but not rigid. Some things even the millennia of life as a Nuit could not strip away. Satisfied with his month or so of work, Isikais reached to a small table positioned just to the side of the mirror and selected a white wax pencil. Tracing glyphs on the mirror with careful practice he willed the process just enacted into the object, a record of actions recorded into the memory of the Djed of the object itself. It would be of no use to anyone but him, but then Isikais rarely crafted for the benefit of others.

..... Eager to test the limits of his new vessel, Isikais turned and walked from the room, stride determined and swift. Not a gesture wasted or glance cast sideways, Isikais made his way through the silence of the stone halls of the Citadel. The maze of corridors had always seemed needlessly convoluted to him. A sign or some unique markers to inform the traveler of his location would be simple enough for the wise and powerful mages of Sahova. The other Nuit, however, did not see the value in this. Isikais had become accustomed to thinking differently than his cohabitants. To his knowledge he was the only one among them who practiced the art of Morphing as well. If not for his knowledge of glyphing he might be entirely useless to the mages of Sahova.

..... Fifteen minutes of walking empty corridors, deeper into the bowels of the Citadel, and through toward the heart of the structure. Finally, he paused at a simple wooden door in a long corridor of similar doors. For decades he had been coming here to visit with Selenius, a young Nuit who assisted in the care and keeping of the corpses of Sahova. Still he was always unsure whether or not he had come to the right door. There were so many after all...and this one looked remarkably similar to the ones to the left and the right. Settling on his decision, he rapped his knuckles on the wood, eyes turning upward as he considered the sensation for the first time in this body and listened with new ears for the voice of his associate.

..... "Enter." Came the familiar grunt of the man inside. He pushed the door open and walked into the room.

..... Selenius was a scientist of a mage, carefully documenting his experiments in large leather-bound notebooks. The windowless room was lit by a set of carefully placed lanterns, arranged to eliminate the possibility of obscuring shadows. At the center of the modestly sized chamber was a single stone slab, grooved with channels to guide the fluids of it's inhabitant into appropriate storage containers beneath. Hunched over the lifeless husk on the table, completely engrossed in his work, Selenius poked and prodded. His black leather gloves and apron, protective glasses, and the wrap he wore over his head gave him the appearance of a butcher, The precision tools splayed out on the table and hanging nearby implied he was more of a surgeon, repairing his subjects, than a cleaver of flesh.

..... Isikais closed the door behind him, standing in the entrance, unmoving and patient. Interrupting Selenius' work could mean the loss of a vessel, wasted experiments, and the patient wrath of a fanatic. He had made this mistake before and was uninterested in another year of the man's ire. So he waited, perhaps for hours, motionless and observing. Finally, Selenius jotted his last note and placed his tools down on the table, removed his gloves, and lifted the glasses from his eyes. He looked at the figure standing statue still in his doorway and amused irritation rolled his eyes upward ever so slightly.

..... "Isikais. Why are you standing, naked, in my doorway?" Isikais looked down at himself, then to Selenius, and tilted his head to express confusion.

..... It was only then that Isikais realized he still held the deep breath he took in his room. Conveniently enough, he exhaled as he quipped, "Why in your doorway or why naked?" A slight grin curled up the left side of his cheek.

..... "You know there are those who will not be so patient with such behavior." Selenius approached the man scanning him carefully, reviewing the body with whimsical curiosity.

..... "If they mind that much, they can come and dress me each day. I'll not waste my time with such needless formality." His grin stretched to a full smile at his solution. Isikais moved closer to Selenius and nearer the center of the room. He watched as the mans eyes moved from the slope of his neck, down across his shoulders and down the curve of his torso to his pelvis. He lifted a leg up onto a step stool to offer Selenius a closer look, but Selenius shook his head.

..... "No, I checked those myself before you got it." Isikais shrugged and returned to his default stance. "Come now, turn around." The mans rough hands pushed at Isikais' shoulders, and he obliged, turning to face the door. Inquisitive fingers ran down Isikais back and right to the spot where he had pushed through flesh to make repairs. "There."

..... "Yes." Isikais replied, awaiting appraisal of his work.

..... "Meh. You're still rough." Selenius stood upright and walked away. Isikais turned back quickly, eyes narrowed and irritated.

..... "Rough? That is all you have to say?" It was an even declaration, but insistent, more emotional than Selenius was used to from the Nuit, but not the worst he had heard from Isikais.

..... "What more is there to say. You have reconnected one bone to another Isikais. Do you see this one?" He pointed to the body on the table. It was another young man, though a little worse for the wear than Isikais. "Three repaired joints, and a set of false teeth." Selenius shrugged. "And when it is inhabited...they will all come apart eventually. You waste your time with structural repairs."

..... "What, then should I be doing?" Isikais snapped, not really expecting an acceptable answer.

..... "Study more glyphing. Or learn something more useful, like Animation...or the flute." Selenius grinned for the first time, then sighed at the disappointment creeping into his associates features. "Isikais, you are dead, among the dead. We don't care how dead you look."

..... "But you care how clothed I look." Isikais bowed his head closing his eyes and forcing a sigh. "Fine. Go back to your work. I'm going to go find a flute." Isikais turned, irritated and moved for the door.

..... "Isikais. I didn't mean..."

..... "But you did." Isikais turned and looked over his shoulder, twisting his torso just enough to see Selenius as he spoke. "And that is the problem. Even you don't see the value in what I do here. I think it's time, Selenius. Time I move on to something else." As Isikais exhaled his comment he felt his ribs settle, and the unmistakable crack of bone as they did. He did not allow a single expression to sneak onto his face in response. He could not bear the embarrassment of it. He turned back to the door, head down, and eyes closed for a moment in thought. "Goodbye." He spoke without looking back.

..... Selenius watched as Isikais walked from the room and closed the door. Perhaps it was the way he moved, the silent resignation, the purposeful exhalation, but there was a finality to his departure, and Selenius knew it would be quite some time before he was again treated to one of his corpses standing nude in his doorway. He would miss the novelty of it. He would miss the witty banter. But he would revel in the solitude and quiet that replaced it.
.....

by **Tarot** on April 20th, 2010, 9:07 pm

Isikais

+2 Morphing
+2 Embalming
+1 Glyphing

Additional notes: Will add Selenius as a permanent Sahovan NPC.