Ansaari in Distress

((Disclaimer: The muses work in mysterious ways ..... and my Ansaari muse has taken a hiatus to parts unknown for a bit. Plus the Inata muse has started nagging about getting her turn etc. so other then crafting cameo's and such Ansaari is taking a break for a short while, but no worries, she will be back in all her peanut throwing goodness in a bit. Also, being insane is hard work :P In the mean time you can get a bit of an Ansaari fix here :) The beginning of this is just a recap of Ansaari's exit from game last night. I am also doing this because, the "evil Ansaari" was an interesting concept, but it is not working well for me, since Ansaari is "an innocent" otherwise, so this will let me get that personality put away without it just disappearing for no reason.))

Ansaari digs around in her pack, arm buried in it up to her shoulder. A feat that should be a physical impossibility given the outside dimensions of the small bag. She stops for a moment and pulls out an oar, and drops it to the side with a clatter. The others are all busy fishing or other things, paying little attention to Ansaari's typical oddness. She reaches back into the pack to her shoulder when suddenly a voice, well known to the adventurers of Tamriel, eminates from the depths of the bag. A voice that causes Ansaari to tense, as though expecting pain, a look of panic crossing her face.

"Ansaari, my dear, it is time for a visit!"

Without warning Ansaari is pulled bodily into the pack, engulfed completely. The pack itself then folds itself inside out and disappears. The only thing left as sign that she was even there is the oar left on the dock.

Meanwhile, in a little corner of Oblivion, known as the Shivering Isles. In a darkened room, or underground chamber.

Ansaari crouches, shivering in fear as a figure paces around her. She whimpers softly "Master has barbeque for Ansaari?"

"All in good time, daughter! But first, there is a matter I must hash out with one of you. Now will the Daedra in the house please stand up?"

With that Ansaari stands, her demeanor, and even her very form, shifting as she does so. By the time she is fully standing, the khajiit form is gone leaving a typical looking, though shorter than normal, Kyn standing in her place. "Why have you brought us back here? We were doing as you wished us to do!"

"Silence you!" The master bellows "You were supposed to protect my daughter, not take her over! You are too boring to be in charge and we both know it!"

The unnamed daedra seethes as the master paces around her.

"I want my daughter sowing the seeds of insanity to all the mortals, they are so boring and plain! Just look at what she did before you poked your nose into things, with the peanuts, and the cookies, and such! It was grand!"

The unnamed daedra seethes further, unwilling to interupt the Prince during his tirade about cheese, boredom and other oddness.

"Well what do you have to say for yourself!?" The master asks as he finally winds down, some hours later.

"One of the cats struck us." she states simply

The master looks at the kyn, and growls slightly "Boring! You didn't even bother flaying the mortal! What good are you then!? No this will not do at all!" He then waves and energy envelops the kyn.

Ansaari's form waivers and returns to the better known Khajiit form, who proceeds to scream in pain and fear. "Ansaari does not want barbeque!"

The master laughs in glee "Oh of course you do my dear, Father knows best! Besides we need to put away that nasty daedra so you can get on with the fun!"

After that all Ansaari knows is pain ....

Okie now that is a good, help me right Forney's crazyness out

:) not done yet, there is a part two ;)

((continued))

Darkness.

All around is darkness.

And yet, in the darkness there is a light.

And sounds. The sound of crying. Pain and distress coming from the light.

Within the light, or perhaps the source of the light is a small child. A crying child surrounded by others, most seem Khajiiti, close in, and a few others, standing apart, looking strained.

One of the outer lights, that which is distinctly redguard in shape speaks in a deep resonating voice, strain clear, "The master pushes exceptionally hard this time, I do not know how long we will be able to shield the child from it."

A lighter, though just as strained Nord voice rings from further around the group, "Stand fast hunter! We all swore when this started to save the child, we've endured more, and shall continue to do so!"

Further in, closer to the child, a matronly looking khajiit sings with a soft, soothing, motherly voice the sound coming quietly to the child, trying to calm the crying. The others of the inner circle talk quietly among themselves.

A darker light, volatile, violent speaks with a growl, "Damn the Daedra, he let us leave! Why did he bring us back!" The light seems to glance at the child, and while none of the lights, other than the child, are distinct enough to have faces to show expression this darker light seems to soften, lighten when looking at the figure they surround.

Another lighted figure, this one a wisp, a shadow given form hisses, "If this one thought He had one, this one would steal away his heart and crush it to pulp!"

Other then a soft giggling from the light that give the impression of being dressed in jester's garb the other figures remain silent.

The darkness surrounding the lights seems to almost brighten, like a weight being lifted.

The singing stops as the crying quiets and the motherly seeming light looks to the others, speaking in a lyrical voice, "The master appears to have become bored for now, let us rest whilest we can."

The outer lights give wordless grunts and seem to dim, giving the impression of sleep, the strain they so recently bore clearly having had an effect. The inner lights also giving the impression of rest.

A new light appears among the outer lights, this one a red so dark as to be almost black, it speaks in a barely audible rasp, the recent trials having clearly weakened it, even so, the dual tones typical to the daedric Kyn is clear, "I fail to see why I must bare the brunt of the Prince's attentions ..."

The other lights seem to ignore the new comer's comment, with the exception of a slight growl from a few.

Outside the darkness of the mindscape, in a room lit by blue flame, the Khajiit known as Ansaari sags against magical bonds, slumped and unconscious.

((continued))

Somewhere, likely still in The Shivering Isles, in a bed lies a slight Khajiit female. The room is silent except when a slight whimper of remembered pain escapes her tensed, unconscious form.

Within the Khajiit's mind-scape, however, a debate rages, anything but silently. Again, lights in the darkness, a blood red light 'stands' bound in blue chains, surrounded by three other lights. These lights being formless and yet still conveying the sense of race, a Nord, an Imperial, and a Redguard. These lights surround the Blood red one, as though standing guard, or perhaps standing in solidarity, for 'across' from them is a separate group of lights, or perhaps one large light with multiple focal points. These lights, again formless, and yet all conveying 'Khajiit'. Several surrounding one, a child, clearly in protection and comfort.

The blood redlight hisses out, little more than a weakened whisper "The prince is gone for now. Release me and I can return us to the mortal realm while his attention is elsewhere!"

The three surrounding lights, as one growl out "Silence!" The light that denotes an Imperial continues softly, smoothly. "Your release is what brought his attention back to us in the first place."

The Nord adds in "Your attempts at control for your own games broke our agreement you honor-less cur!"

A matronly, calming voice sings from the Khajiit group. "That does not matter. The master has already mended the breach in control. All that matters is the now."

A soft giggle emanates from one of the lights before its own lyrical voice adds in, "The Master would destroy us all if his 'daughter' does not remain in control."

All the lights seem to focus on the child-like light in the center for a moment with a feeling of acceptance, and even love. Even the dark red light seems to soften for a moment when none of the others are 'watching.'

A soft, uncertain whisper slides from the childish light, "This one wants to go home ..."

The other lights seem to comfort the child for a moment, one growling out in a battle hardened rasp "Soon, child, soon ..."

In the room, the Khajiit woman seems to relax, her breathing evening and the tension draining away somewhat. A blue butterfly lifts from the nearby night-table and flutters through a wall, as though it were not really there.