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((Entering))
Oh well what else did she have to lose since she couldn't hear or speak when reading what was on the door and then everything then going dark. Opening the door and everything felt so different to her but there was something here that wanted her to go forward.

Now all that she could hear was the Voice and she listened to it as there wasn't much else that she could do right now. Curious if she could find where the Voice was as she walked right in trying to feel for something anything in this place. She also heard the Voice call out to the Kings were they here now she wondered and why was the Voice doing this, Tori was a little confused by what the Voice had said.

The first thing that she found was something that was cool and humming that was so very strange as she felt around the object trying to figure out what it was. In a little bit of time Tori did figure out that it was some kind of chair that she found some writting on it. "Call my true name" And how was she suppose to call out when she had no voice but still curious all the same as she did have to wonder what the true name was.

He spun again, frowning as he stepped in the water this time. Westus wriggled his toes, wondering if the substance was even water at all. He wasn't going to drink any now that his dirty foot had been in there, but he did kneel down to smell the stuff.

Interesting.

And plow through he did.

Amrita must have agreed with him, because she offered no resistance or even a sign that she minded. He would not really know of her opinion anyways, because he had stepped away already and could not see or hear as it was.

Still he moved on, swishing and swaying when he felt like something was close by. Just via air currents and scants he could move decently. Not perfect though, here and there he would run in to others. One time he tripped even.

It was not until he reached the thing that was calling him, cold and smooth under his touch, that he realized it was a chair. A CHAIR had been doing all this? Was this some sort of throne? Either way, it got a frown.

Even a bigger frown was the grooves that were cut into one area. Sticking a finger inside he traced them, realizing it was actually a pattern. Words. It was words.

Thankfully Amrita had put him in the right mindset to try and figure out words through touch, so after a big more fondling of the thing, he realized what it was asking.

It wanted its name.

....The Hell was Remi going to call a chair?

Uhm.

Power, Thats what he would call it. Why? Because it felt like energy, Miasma, what else would it be? Maybe Bob was a better answer.

His hands jutted out in front of his chest once more, and Westus prepared himself to run into his old friend Mister Mystery Liquid for the thousandth time. Instead, his fingers brushed something alive. It responded to his touch with a low, discordant hum, a hum he could hear in his head, like the sound of The Voice. The fragment swallowed, unsure as to whether or not he should reach out again. He only had several seconds to ponder his decision before the choice was taken from him. Another body knocked him forward and he braced himself instinctively, palms landing on a solid surface just high enough to comfortably sit on. He did so for a moment just to get his bearings, but soon pushed himself back to his feet. He didn't like the way the chair... the throne... writhed under him like a tray full of maggots.

Westus stayed still for a little over a minute after he was upright, then slid his bare, damp foot back toward the strange throne. He felt a series of grooves that were reminscent of the ones he had nearly tripped over earlier and, abandoning whatever dignity he had left, he kneeled down next to them almost immediately. He traced his fingers over them reverently, certain that they must hold the key to getting out of here, to being released once and for all, but they were nothing but grooves. Westus smacked the flat of his palm against them, then traced the grooves again and again and again until...

call my true name

Was he imagining things? The chair wanted him to give its name when he couldn't speak? He sighed. Fine. It wanted a name? He'd give it one.

Reaching forward, he bunched the wet sleeve of his robe around his finger and trailed it across the base of the throne, forming two blocky letters that promptly evaporated away.

After more careful stumbling in the dark, she came upon something else of interest. Well... she figured it would have to be something of interest, anyhow - certainly more so than stairs that led nowhere at all. A short pillar, containing what could very well be a basin, according to the careful exploration of her hands; of was it a fountain? Whichever it was, it seemed to hold some sort of liquid - water maybe? She brought her face closer, trying to see if it had any sort of distinguishing scent, but there was none that she could smell.

It seemed benign enough, but surely it had some sort of purpose - some sort of use? This was not a room of leisure after all, or at least she did not think so, despite the ridge with the stairs to nowhere. So. Some purpose, probably; it might be prudent to bring some with her, in case one turned up. She was not quite sure she'd be able to fumble her way back here in the dark after all, so it was only the practical thing to do, bringing it with her.

But how? Brow slightly furrowed, Davyne considered the problem while her hands tapped a rhythm on the side of the pillar - that was it, of course! Her hands! Feeling victorious, the golden-haired young woman took off one of her rather large gloves and filled it with liquid. When it was slightly more than half-filled, she took the clip that she usually used to hold some of her hair back with and used it to secure the opening of the glove. It was not a perfect solution for the clip could not entirely block the water if it came to that, but the glove was watertight and able to hold it in for now, at least; as long as she didn't turn it upside-down, things should be fine.

Stumbling about in the dark Spinar manages to find a series of stairs. Following along the stairs he reaches the top to a whole lot of nothing. Why wasn't that surprising he sighed internally and turned to carefully make and his way back down and find something, anything else.

Tilting her head slightly unsure of what he was doing until she felt his lips completely frozen she stood there. Maybe she was wrong but then again it didn't matter. He was marking in her hand. IMJULIAN well Imjulian was an odd name. Her lip quirked up.maybe he meant Julian was his name.

A familiar pang hurt her as she tugged very gently at his hand.

H-O-M-E

is all she spelled in his palm. The longer she stood there the more she was content to feel his touch she hadn't even slapped him for the kiss. Besides she'd done it twice now and look how well that went for her.

Let's try this again...

He left the stairs, wandering blindly again, thinking he might have bumped into something or someone along the way. Which redirected him a bit in the shuffling to keep balance. A few more steps. It's so peaceful... and yet chaotic. That other him really did like stating the obvious.

A few more fumbling steps and he felt his hand running along a surface, tracing it carefully until he found a few thing pages crinkling below his fingers. A book? It would have been nice to read it. Seriously liked stating the obvious. He attempted to move the book, finding it to be seemingly made of solid metal.

Or at least the weight of the thing suggested that.

Who made a book THAT heavy? And who had brought such a thing up all those stairs? That was the real question. I feel a bit bad for whoever did.

You know for once he thought he agreed. That just seemed a bit too cruel for words. Oh well... this didn't seem too useful, but it was tempting to tear out a page for later perhaps..? Don't ruin something that could be precious. It almost sounded annoyed, well... he already had hadn't he? Those people it cherished could only hope to recall those looks as last the last fleeting memories of him. ...why. They didn't do anything. Oh now it was going to get mopey since it was reminded.

Never mind. He'd just find something more useful.

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OOC

Name: Molan
Current HP remaining: 25/25
Character kingdom: Silver
Character's Miasma Colour: Silver
Character description: There is no real life left in the faded blue eyes. The bright brilliant blue now a grayed hue almost. He was covered in a pale gray garb, a scarf wound loosely to create a hood. His face shadowed. His clothing was simple, so simplistic. His hair loose in the back. There were no ties, and little beauty was left. Merely the white haired man waiting for the end. He cares not for your battle, it's obvious such things no longer matter.