[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/792996621179682857/1163496506947555348/RunaToken.png[/img][/center]
[center][h2][color=5EFDBB]Rúnaritari[/color][/h2][/center]
[center]Location: Somewhere in the universe.
Interacting with: The Khodex of Creation. Mae-Alari (by proxy).
Mentions: The Veins of the Cosmos.
[hider=The primordial dark of creation provides terrible writing light.][youtube]https://youtu.be/xaKmKnOVv74[/youtube][/hider]
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Somewhere from the depths of the inky black void there was a being that slept a peaceful sleep. It did not think, it did not feel. It was merely there and not there, existing in a paradoxical state of being and not being. That was to be its existence until a faint glimmer of light shone upon the formless being, slowly but surely rousing it from its slumber. The infinite darkness and pleasant nothingness was gently yet deliberately pushed away by the encroaching veins of gently glowing light. At first the formless being simply shied away from the light, much like a dreamer rolling in their sleep to avoid the coming of dawn, but as the gentle veins of light continued their relentless expanse there eventually came a point where the formless being could ignore it no more.

It was within this moment that a shape coalesced, rousing itself from the warm darkness of sleep and turning its attention to the invading light. There, in the random chaos that dictated the spread of these veins of light the formless being found itself looking down a pathway. The pathway warped and changed and arced in random ways but still yet formed itself into a coherent tunnel. It was through this tunnel, not a moment after it formed, that the shapeless being felt a great pulse echo throughout the glimmering void. A great pulse that carried with it a single instruction: “Come.”

Wrapping itself in comfortable darkness like one might embrace the warmth of a used blanket on a cold morning, the formless being began to follow the path. At first there was mere curiosity that brought it along the path, but soon the shapeless being began to feel a tight clinging sensation as it started to brush along the glowing veins. The pathway was shifting, as it always did, but it was also constricting. It bound the formless being like the realization that the sheets it was using for warmth were tucked tightly and would not be pulled across the domain as desired. Something would have to go, or perhaps here would be a good place to simply resume resting? But then what of the instruction? Surely it would be rude to leave it incomplete?

Looking around itself, the formless being elected to try and push ahead, and as it did the formless found itself being formed. At first things were quite abstract, a head upon a neck to look around a corner, an arm formed in need of something to push aside an obstruction, but as the shapeless being neared what seemed to be the end of this twisting passage it felt another tug upon its being. Looking down upon itself the formless being saw that it was no longer as formless as it once was, and beneath the roiling cloth of darkness there lay a form that would not be denied. The moment the formless being beheld the body that had been made she knew herself, and within that moment of knowing herself the rest of her form coalesced within an instant. A beautiful form, fit to hold the cosmic mind that had previously existed without confine. But as the roiling cloth of darkness faded away the formed being found itself quite cold and exposed without its protection. Grabbing at the fleeing tendrils of shadow the formed being wove them into a garment around her body, something to keep herself warm and protected.

After a few moments, or was it days? Weeks perhaps? She could not know, the formed being beheld herself within the dress that she had made, and smiled. This would do quite nicely. Looking up at the receding tendrils of shadow the formed being watched as it arced away into forever. She could not deny that she wanted to follow them back to where it had all began, to return to comfort she both knew and did not know, but after just a moment's temptation a hardy resolve gripped her mind: She had been awakened from her slumber and summoned for some reason that was as of yet unknown to her. This would not be something that she simply allowed to happen without some form of answer given as to why.

Thus the formed being watched for just a moment as the last tendrils of comforting shadow slipped away, and all that she once knew was [url=https://youtu.be/uBnYYPMYaFE?t=54]lost[/url], never to be known again as the ever shifting path reformed itself once more, erasing what was once her home. A twinge of bitter regret flowed through her mind, but as it left the formed being was left with naught but clarity and resolve. Turning to the untrodden path the formed being lifted her foot from the nothingness that made up the floor and stepped forward into the vast unknown… Or at least she would’ve, if she did not promptly trip. Landing face down on solid nothingness the formed being let out a soft groan before bringing her hands up and pushing firmly against the solid nothingness that made up the “floor” that she walked upon.

Gracefully landing on her feet once more, the formed being looked down at herself and attempted to walk again. This time she noticed how the restrictive nature of her skirt caught her legs and frowned. Snapping her fingers, the formed being caused a long slit to take form upon the left side. Attempting to walk once more, the formed being smiled as she tripped no longer. Once more stepping forward, the formed being walked the untrodden path to its end, and as she stepped out of the ever-changing weave of gently glowing veins she beheld before her a scroll, floating in the infinite space that permeated the reality around her.

Letting out a gentle hum, the formed being stepped over to it before gently reaching out a hand. There was a brief moment of hesitation when she began to feel an intense vibration in her fingers as they drew close, but once this moment passed the formed being moved quickly to snatch it out of the nothingness that it floated in. It brought a pleasant warmth to her hands, and as she opened it to read whatever contents it might’ve had… The formed being found herself tilting her head. The scroll was blank. How? Why? Turning it over and examining the other side, she found that it too was blank.

Well. That certainly made for some underwhelming reading. Perhaps she could fix that? Temporarily rolling the scroll back up the formed being moved over towards one of the gently glowing veins and sat down close to it. Unrolling the scroll once more, the formed being reached out and began to gently prod at the vein. It pulsed and writhed at her touch, but the formed being continued to prod at it, each time increasing the force behind her action until finally, with a sharp arc downward, the formed being drove a nail into the vein.

Her hand was consumed with warmth as the raw energy of creation spilled out like a thick ink, gently oozing through the small hole that the formed being had made. Leaning over to catch the light from the rest of the vein, the formed being brought her wet fingers up to the blank scroll and began to carefully write. The shapes that formed were at first alien and unknown, even to her, but as she continued to write a pattern began to emerge, and soon thereafter the formed being could read what she had written as natural as she knew her own thoughts. There, glistening in the faint light, was the word Rúnaritari. A name? Perhaps. Her name? Yes.

Twisting the name around in her mind, she found that it fit. Thus the formed being was no more, and in her place was Rúnaritari. Rúna. The scribe of magic. It was in this moment of finally knowing herself in full that Rúna was struck by a bolt of inspiration. Dipping her fingers into her makeshift inkwell with a frantic purpose Rúna began to fill it with dozens of these shapes of her own creation. These… These… Runes. A play on her own name. Yes, that would work fine. Writing faster and faster into the scroll, Rúna’s hand became coated in layers and layers of ink as she released every thought and emotion that coalesced within her mind onto the scroll.

So frenzied was her writing that she did not notice the early runes beginning to vanish. Seeing only blank space to write upon Rúna merely continued to fill it with anything and everything that came to mind. As she continued to write, her writing grew more and more refined. Where once she had written sloppy abstractions of runes now came refined arcs and understandable lines. But then a brief distraction came in the fact that her inkwell had run dry. Looking to the makeshift inkwell with an intense scowl, Rúna noted that the primal ink that she had been stealing was ebbing away from where she had pierced the vein. Knowing that her work was incomplete, Rúna set the scroll aside briefly before digging her fingers into the opening greedily. Pulling the vein further open, Rúna smiled as she felt the warm ink of creation flow past her hands once more. Using one hand to keep the vein open, Rúna plunged her arm into the depths of the ink, eager to steal away enough to finish her work. Pulling it free, Rúna released her grip upon the vein and resumed writing, scribbling rune after rune once more. This process was repeated two times more, and by the end of her frenzy Rúna had written everything she knew about these runes into this scroll, which would be all that would ever be known.

Smiling at her handiwork, Rúna held the scroll aloft gleefully, and only just now noticed the destroyed nature of her sleeve. It was soaked and stiff and uncomfortable to wear, and as such Rúna elected to simply be rid of it. Gripping it firmly she tore it free, and it was here that she noticed the state of her arm. The glowing veins of power writhed beneath it, settling themselves into a new means of carrying ink, or was it blood? Nevermind, to her freshly grown talons. Looking to her other hand, she saw there that her fingers were forever stained by the remnants of ink that had flown over them as she held the vein open. Looking down at herself, she saw various other markings and tattoos adorned not only her dress, but herself. Had she done that? She didn’t recall, but they were a part of her now, and she didn’t mind them.

Desiring a mirror, Rúna sank her corrupted hand into the vein one last time before slathering a thick layer of ink across the nothingness that she sat upon. Looking down into it, Rúna was slightly shocked to see half of her face covered in the ink she had been using. But then she recalled her feverish plunge into the vein, and the splash of ink that it had caused without her knowing about it… Yes, that would explain a great deal of things. Scratching at the top of her head, Rúna simply shrugged before she felt a great pain overtake the top of her skull. Grabbing her head and groaning, Rúna felt a pair of great antlers grow from herself. A last effect of her thievery from the vein.

When the change finished, Rúna was as she would be for quite a time. Looking over her body once more, Rúna shrugged. Oh well. At the very least this meager corruption would be worth the great deal of knowledge that she had poured into the scroll. Picking up the document once more, Rúna looked down at it… Only to find it blank. How? Why? Did it not like the vastness of the information she had been gracious enough to give it!? Rolling the scroll up and tossing it, Rúna let it float into the void to be found by someone else.

Bothersome thing.

[hider=Summary!]Rúna is born! She shapes herself and steals “Ink” from the Veins of the Cosmos to write the runic language and rune magic into existence by filling the codex with a complete dictionary of the runic language, corrupting herself a bit in the process. Mae-Alari is not going to like this. But Rúna finds out that the scroll has made itself blank again, and as such chucks it to drift in the void as it once was out of frustration.[/hider]

[hider=MP Summary!]Rúna starts with 5/5 MP.

Rúna spends 4 to help create the universe by creating the language of magic.

Rúna ends with 1/5 MP.[/hider]