WWE #4

[caliborn]

Small exposition this time, as I'm already late >.>

When writing, the main idea is to get the reader to see what you're writing on the page. Because of this, we use words and devices that invoke detailed images in the minds of the readers. Good writers can make you literally see what's going on, in your mind's eye

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336 :C; Open

[mellie]

When I lost my sight, I feared I would lose my ability to perceive power auras. It was only after I could no longer see with my eyes that I began to see with my senses. Auras were still just as crisp to me as if I were actually looking at them. It amazed me just how tangible aura colors were.

Michael's aura was a rich purple. I'd always been delighted to watch the color swirl like an ocean around him. It was what I thought I would miss most about losing my sight.

However, it was actually more astonishing now that I could use the rest of my senses to detect auras. I could taste the silkiness of his purple that was the color of midnight. It seemed decadent and dark when it filled my mouth and washed over my tongue. Cool waves of violet splashed across my skin and led me towards intoxication. Music in the key of aubergine begged me to dance in time to its hypnotic rhythm. I could smell his cologne mingle with the indiscernible fragrance of his aura, pulling me closer to the edge.

His aura was one of a true purple- it was passionate, consuming, and glorious. I reveled in it more than I ever had. It easily dominated any other that crossed my path and begged me to pay constant heed to it. I still couldn't decipher the elemental origin of his magic, but I could sense it was a pure and ancient source. His power wasn't drawn from the world around him, but from the core of his very being. I would gladly lose myself in the complexity of his soul forever; if he would let me, if I dared be that bold.

I couldn't forget the siren call of his aura could consume every last strand of sanity I possessed; but how I longed to taste the sweetness of fantasy mingled with the bitterness of reality. Another time, another plane. Any magic but our own.