In the vast expanse of the astral void, where certitude held no bearing, an event began to unfurl. A luminous, spherical light emerged from the horizon, spreading like a stellar contagion across the globe. This luminescence carried an esoteric essence, one that seemed to both attract and repulse those who came into communication with it. It was as though this light had a consciousness of its own, seeking out those tainted by eldritch forces and pulling them into its enigmatic orbit A hauntingly rhythmic ticking resonated in the background, amplifying the surreal atmosphere. Each tick seemed to reverberate through the very fabric of one's being, creating a disquieting aura that might send shivers down the spines of anyone who dared to glimpse into this phenomenon. Within the boundaries of this spatial anomaly, the reality was contorted, and altered in ways that withstood comprehension. Gravity appeared to ebb and flow like an erratic tide, and the laws of physics were but mere suggestions. The decrees of reality, once immutable now were pulverized in the advent of this inexplicable will. As the ticking reached its crescendo, darkness loomed in the distance, indiscernible yet foisting. The silhouette that materialized was like nothing any mortal mind could fathom. Four eyes, radiant and seething like diminutive suns, stared out from the twilight, peering into the souls of those who dared to glimpse upon it. It was ominous and autocratic, a harbinger of indecipherable power and indifference, yet it displayed no interest nor empathy towards those drawn into its grasp. Every aspect of this being was off, withstanding conventional senses and logic. Its form seemed to deviate and contort with each passing moment, zipping between the boundaries of corporeal and immaterial. Time itself warped in its immediacy, leaving those who witnessed it skeptical of whether seconds or eons had passed. The eldritch taint of those it had entrapped seemed to be beckoned by this cosmic enigma as if irresistibly pulled by its unknowable gravitation. They were but marionettes, entangled in the strings of a cosmic marionettist. And as the ticking that had accompanied the arrival of the light finally ceased, the overwhelming silence hung gravely in the void. The entity with four burning eyes remained, a lofty presence against the backdrop of infinity. Reality had become an ephemeral concept and those caught within this realm found themselves internees of an enigma exceeding their wildest nightmares. In this unfamiliar space, the idea of hope and despair blurred, for within the clutches of the swarthy silhouette, nothing could be predicted. Yet a single voice rang out shattering the stillness. "Dead? No...unless you can get excited in the afterlife?" A loud slap echoed as the octopus flogged herself to be sure. "Pain. Yes, not dead. Dream? Convergence? End of time?" Zelena muttered out loud only for the others to appear. "Crude constructions of flesh and bone. You contact my mind, utterly clueless and abscent of understanding." Zelena paused as she pondered what exactly was the source of that speech. "A prerecorded magical interface?" Zelena whispered, "You penetrate an existence so far beyond your own you cannot even visualize it. I'm outside of your cognition. I am monarch." The voice came from all directions at once and echoes. The speech was devoid of emotion. Almost as if the entity regarded this meeting as itrelevant. Zelena blinked before leaning in to whisper to Casimir. "I don't think this is an interface..." The octopus concluded rather worryingly.

While an illusion, safety was a creaturely comfort Zelena didn't take for granted. Her time before being "conscripted" by the red sap was ripe with turmoil. Her motherland, the desert, was overflowing with conflict. The butchery of kin and social upheaval were normal within that arid hellscape. Turbulence was the currency of the land. Its grainy knolls were painted red, and their hostility ran deep. Bigotry was commonplace, aimed at one's immutable traits. Ever since she could recall, her father forewarned her of the realm's penchant for discrimination. Ryse's augury was ignored, assumed to be the ramblings of a jaded man. However, it wouldn't take long for the octopi to encounter abuse. The people were skeptical of outsiders, even those native to the desert. They regarded her as a monstrosity, an aberration and an offense against nature. Relentlessly Zelena was bombarded with invective and physical altercations. The monster with a heart of gold soon discovered that the world would never tolerate her. The dreams of starting a family and interacting with others as equals evaporated. Alone she faced the unrelenting heat of the truth. Aimlessly she bounded between settlements, her spirit scorched by the inferno of their indignation. To survive such a cruel reality, she retreated into her dusty tomes. People may be prone to hurt her, but books weren't so insensitive. It was through the gardening of her mind that Zelena uncovered repletion. Those nimble tendrils toiled away at the construction of great inventions. Mastering the arcane, alchemy and natural sciences filled the void. Her thirst for knowledge couldn't be slaked. With each discovery, she desired just a drop more. Tome after tome had been ingested. And once the libraries of the desert failed to solve her dilemma. The cephalopod journeyed north to harvest their erudition. Zelena's dearth of savoir faire presented itself as a stumbling block. Clumsily she navigated that unfamiliar theatre. Her feelers scribbled mathematical formulations in a bid to provide a resolution. Notwithstanding her efforts, she'd be met with objective failure. The gist of this delinquency was infuriating and eluded her comprehension. Could it be arithmetics couldn't supply a solution? That there were some problems that numbers alone weren't capable of solving? The fear of being harmed had fostered sequestration. Zelena's quotidian existence resumed without incident as she voraciously absorbed more and more data. It is ingrained in her, for Zelena is an explorer of all scholarly pursuits under the firmament. She tears the veil between enlightenment and ignorance—the spearhead within the vanguard that is discovery. When she first cracked open the door to wisdom, she peered prudently into the darkness. Fearful of the wailing horrors that loomed beyond the threshold. But Zelena was different. She didn't balk, for a glimpse beyond wasn't enough for the mistress of transliminial studies. She long since plunged headlong over the precipice and set sails across the sea of knowledge. In this contemplative stupor, there were no suns by which one could navigate by. Nor a moon to guide the tides. Latitude and longitude would not avail her, for the laws of time and physics are unique to the temporal plane. The sojourner was an agent of order within an expanse of unruly chaos. And as she broke the murky swells sending spumes or creation before her, the elders were ever watchful. The audacity of this mere speck amused them. But Zelena was most zealous and would stand dauntless before these wills. After all, she helmed her destiny. She sought to break the code and discover the truth of their enemy. For understanding is power, and mental oblivion is weakness. The defiled is the riddle unsolvable. The door unopenable, the tome unreadable, the query unanswerable. Nevertheless, Zelena vowed to solve the unsolvable and answer the unanswerable. The secret she searched for was one that even the demon of plague themselves had forgotten and erased from the chronicles of memory. There, within the lab of her mushroom tower, crystal lighting dimly pulsates. Its luminosity paints the ridges of the fungal hyphy. The shadows were repulsed into the circular depressions darted throughout the biotic chamber's walls. The room was eerily silent, with but the turning of pages to break its spell. Even the moats of dust seemed to be frozen from trepidation. Zelena falls into its orbit. Her spirit rattled due to the reverberations of its gravity. She could feel it. The secrets yet unlocked yearn to be opened. That sensation swelling within the back of her mind was as if twisting tentacles suctioned onto her sanity and squeezed. The crude pincers clenched her curiosity while snipping away the twines of uncertainty that remained. Her notes filled the study with inferential power. The sort of energy that would escape most. Conch rested on her shoulder, reading along as if drawn to its siren calls. While silent to others, Zelena swore it yawned with the fury of a leviathan. The waves of delirium crash violently against the rocks along the shores of sanity. The foam scoured any fear as the moment passed, and the tide returned to the sea. It brought a eureka moment, one sealed by the scratching of a quill against papyrus paper. While she wrote, her tendrils reached out, performing various complex motor tasks—moving vials, heating beakers, and the stirring of elixrs. One thing was clear to any that disturbed her meditation. Zelena is within her zone, her very own pocket reality.

Click for my sheet.

Ever since Zelena had been hauled against her will into the clutches of the red sap. The cephalopod discovered herself at an impasse. On the one hand, she detested their approach. On the other, they supplied her with research materials, books and security. And thus far, Florentina hadn't demanded much from her. The emerald peach had spent most of her days within their libraries—her feelers were the ideal appendages to assist with the stocking and cataloging of their books. The sojourner between realms had a bad habit of reading through those dusty tomes. Her thirst for knowledge wasn't easily slaked, and the hunger to know more kept enticing her to delve deeper into their spines. She had culled some erudition through the turning of those pages. The dynasty's wellspring of data was admirable. And their history was quite colorful. Zelena felt as if she was intruding. The other academics held no compunctions of lingering their eyes on her. Their inquisitive nature made her feel somewhat uneasy and apprehensive. She knew peace whenever she sequestered herself and focused on reading and her duties. Nevertheless, it wouldn't be long before another happened across her. The octopus had suffered greatly at the hands of such studious minds. And this marring of the past wasn't something she could conceal. The scars of yesteryear were evident. Zelena's skittish and reclusive nature had only bolstered the gossip around her. Whispers of her alien appearance spread like a brush fire. Some were intrigued. Others revolted. In truth, she preferred the latter. For at least they would leave her be. However, all good things must come to an end. And with times passage, it wouldn't be long before Florentina dispatched her expectations for the alien. Beyond those scholastic walls was a thick jungle. The buildings that encompassed this bastion of education were fungal. And their spongey exterior was shielded by thick plating of enhanced bone. Being a nosy creature, she'd often study and dissect the denizens. Her scrying eyes made mental notes while she often blended within her surroundings. And whenever approached, she'd alter her hue and texture to better suit her habitat, hoping to become imperceptible. Sometimes, this worked marvelously. And for others, it only further facilitated their desire to dissect the aquatic horror. Ironic, it appeared despite voyaging across the globe, the hearts of the people hadn't shifted. The same faults were present, along with the same aura of trepidation. An atmosphere that made her long for that cave. But alas, it was better than her time stuffed in that flask. Zelena had received a letter by courier. And rather than read it out loud, she sought a dark and damp place to study it. The basement of the tower of alchemy was one of her preferred lairs. It happened to be tucked out of view, seldom visited, and most of all...quiet. There, she combed through the scribblings in that muted room only to be befogged. Unable to hold back, the octopus plastered a puzzled expression across her countenance. Florentina was dispatching a mer? An operative of the crimson menace? And she wanted her to make this interloper feel cozy and at ease? Why? The red lady was mean, and Zelena didn't like her much, given the needles she endured while caged like livestock. Shuddering, the emerald sphinx would eat the letter to avoid anyone discovering its contents. And instead of seeking this knife ear out, she'd select to stay within her known burrow and wait for the others to chaperone the man her way. If he entered that dark enclosure, his eyes would be met with nothing out of the ordinary. The ambush predator had adhered herself to the stone walls with those suction cups. She compressed her body and altered her skin's hue and texture to better merge with that surface. Nevertheless, if the intellectual mer was astute enough or perceptive, he might yet glimpse those emerald and topaz eyes pulsating dimly within the tenebrosity of the chamber. Especially if he had the foresight to let his eye acclimatize to the dearth of ambient lighting. Zelena wouldn't trust him so easily. She had suffered to his kind and knew of their sullied history. And before she'd even consider stepping from the umbra and into the light, the cephalopod would ensure he wasn't carrying syringes or any vials. In her eyes, men with such trinkets were terrible and up to no good. And all men were meanies. And all meanies would invariably harm her. And Zelena was tired of just that, being hurt.

This world held no place for one with a virtuous heart. Zelena Timanti had spent her youth locked away within her father's manor. Ryse had often told her that this world was a bitter cesspool that sired only hatred. And no matter how golden her heart might be. She'd only encounter the hostility of others due to her otherworldly visage. Like a fool, she challenged his pessimistic outlook concerning life. However, her experiences only bolstered the cynical man's views. Not an instance went by where the cephalopod didn't extend a warm yet helpful tentacle. And each time, it was invariably lobbed off. Zelena's friends had forsaken her. The list of their sins far outnumbered the kindness she had received. It ranged from sexual assault to betrayal, experimentation, manipulation, and of course, the death of her family. With each experience, she swallowed a mouthful of ash. Only to spend many a night in the fetal position in some dark cave alone, save for her tears. Within such tenebrosity, the octopi discovered herself compelled to meditate. The heartless belly of the earth provided her the stillness she required to reassess her life. Zelena couldn't refute the reality of her predicament. No one would glimpse beyond her monstrous extremities and see the lady trapped inside this repellent shell. Few souls, if any, possessed the acumen to witness her suffering. And even fewer could relate or hope to mend what was so thoroughly broken. Several times she flirted with suicide. And each time, she'd chicken out from plunging a jagged rock deep into her neck. From the arid wastelands to the primordial bosom. The octopus continuously ran into opposition. This bitter plane was no place for a hero, no home for a better woman. And with this truth embraced, Zelena sought to rectify her current trajectory. Those outside of that lair needed to suffer. They needed to feel but an ounce of the torment they inflicted. No one was coming to save her. There would be no hero gallivanting about on a fiery steed. No holy sword brandished to repel the demons that beset her sanity. It was either evolve, die or succumb to delirium. And she'd be damned if she were to accept defeat without putting up some opposition. Many sellswords were dispatched to investigate the murmurs of her nest. And while she endeavored to reason with them, such entreaties ultimately fell on deafened ears. Left with little in the way of an alternative, she'd defend herself and snuff out their embers. Those tendrils clenched their throats, snapping the neck or pinning them within the rotting fog she disgorged. Once they were mummified, the cephalopod saw fit to liquefy what remained of their organs and slurp up the biological stew. Within her mind, there was no point in wasting a good meal. Their corpses were interred within the vast systems of caves and tunnels darted throughout the jungle. And while some adventurer might happen across the carcasses. Those poor and unfortunate souls' names and identifiable markers had been peeled from them. Zelena knew she couldn't remain hidden forever. It was only a matter of time before the red sap or verdant dynasty cornered her. And so, rather than hunker down, she'd decide to migrate. Silently, her feelers navigated through the darkness. Along with her echolocation, the aquatic horror needn't fret the umbra. Zelena had grown accustomed to these living conditions. A part of her wondered if she had become the monster many proclaimed her to be. Or, perhaps, if she was such a beast from the moment she was birthed? While worrisome, the sojourner wouldn't chafe over such inconsequential details. Instead, she'd select to keep herself focused on the task at hand. The emerald beauty emerged from the gullet of the earth. Her moist skin embraced the affable kiss of the binary sols. The cephalopod let out a purr, lolling within its rays before prowling through the foliage and shade. The ferns were still wet from the morning dew, indicating sufficient daylight to seek out a more suitable dwelling. With their blades brushing against her skin, the predator kept a low profile while she ambled between the maze of towering lumber. Zelena finally hit a clearing. However, she dared not risk stepping free from the overgrowth. Now camouflaged within the coppice, her skin would change hue and texture to blend in with her surroundings better. Those topaz and jade eyes studied the rocky peaks of the fingers of the elders. Her orbs had now acclimatized to the ambient light while the pupils split and remerged in a continuous cycle. Cautiously, she'd slither amidst the rim of the tree line. After about an hour, she'd stumble across a small settlement at the base of one of those immense rocky pillars. Given its fortification and clangor, the octopus could only cull that this was a point of interest for the government. Gradually she'd wiggle out her tentacles, adhering their suction cups to the bark while her skin immediately imitated its appearance and feel. Carefully she'd scale up the tree, only to perch her buttocks on a thick branch. The shade, leaves, and her skin's natural abilities should hide her from detection. Zelena tapered her eyes, peering between the gaps as this viewpoint granted her a clearer sight of the vista. And much to her stupefaction, this wasn't some backwater village but an outpost. It appeared meant to safeguard one of the many passageways interconnecting the municipalities of the jungle. A highway of sorts she had known to be utilized for ferrying troops and goods securely across the providence. Zelena smirked as she had a moment of clarity and inspiration. If she could somehow infiltrate that network, she could move about freely and likely without suspicion. After all, the last thing many would suspect would be for her to hide in such a known location right under their very noses. Zelena could even use them as jumping points, suctioning onto the spiders as they unknowingly moved her about the dynasty. Notwithstanding that stroke of genius, there wasn't enough luster to burn away the peril regarding her plan. How could she get in unnoticed? Now submerged in thought, her foci surveyed the scene more thoroughly. It was then she received her eureka moment. She would need to sneak into one of the boxes, and then the idiots would do the rest of the work for her. Perhaps she could seek to charm her way into their employment only to abandon her post. The latter of which was a gamble. Zelena had no inkling how far word had spread of her description. Or if any at all had? After all, she might have been paranoid regarding Valerna's interest in caging her. A fear warranted due to the decade she spent crammed in a large flask. The tendrilled maiden hated the flask and swore never to be imprisoned again. Whatever ensued, she'd have to act quickly or under the curtain of darkness. Which presented a slew of problems given some mistook her for the defiled. How one could look at her and think she was one of those meanies, Zelena would never understand. Was it the tentacles? Or maybe her fashionable suit of living armor? Shrugging it off, the octopus would crawl between the trees, moving closer and closer to the outpost at a steady pace. She'd desist her movements once she reached the closest tree to the station. From on high, she would abide and analyze them. Looking for any fool, she might charm or an easy way in. Whichever opportunity presented itself first.

Ambvilance, the undying season which had blanketed the realm, had waned. Normalcy, or at least a temporary period of peace, had proliferated across the wasteland. The dissemination of tranquility spawned an era of progress and pollination not experienced in some time. The swelling of grain was the first indication that wealth would soon follow. And rather than wholly invest this newfound opulence into the people, the great houses funneled their gold into war machines. Harmony through armaments became a common retort to the faultfinders. A line of rhetoric that had thus far placated the hearts of the common folk. And while some might have been duped, Zelena wasn't so gullible. Her time within this rancours globe contributed little outside of tragedy. Notwithstanding all its whimsical elements, life was just one travesty to the next. The emerald beauty had escaped one cell, and while she was grateful to her liberator, she couldn't shake the sneaking suspicion that her aims were anything but fueled by benevolence. This presage squirmed within the back of her mind, nibbling away as the cephalopod mulled in secrecy. However, whenever she felt keen to broadcast a malfeasant image onto her wife, the jackal provided alms of solace. Their matrimony may have commenced under controvertible terms, yet, in time, it had blossomed into the one positive attribute within Zelena's life. The oceanic beast was never beheld with revulsion by her lover. Even when she disrobed and unveiled the absoluteness of her alien form Niazmina not once recoiled. The opposite transpired; the necromantic queen's adoration only grew. Their time experiencing one another's flesh had made Zelena touch the one thing she always thirsted for, love. And while far from assuaged, the octopus found it increasingly arduous to refute her emotions for the caramel temptress. She'd often sneak off within this palace, toiling away to assemble a trinket that may adequately communicate her passion. Time and time again, she was met with failure. She discovered each iteration to be equally lacking, which only infuriated her. The months melded together until, eventually, she had discovered success with the aid of her devoted custodian, Sloth. Deep within the darkest and dampest recess of the palace, Zelena had constructed a ring. This piece of jewelry wasn't comprised of precious metal or gems. Instead, it was fashioned from her flesh suit. There, within the center, an eyeball resided. Its gaze shifted while the smitten eyesore hid it from snooping stares and found her way out of the dungeons. With mirth in her stride, the octopus ambled down the halls. Relentlessly, Zelena recreated a myriad of reactions, trying her best to recite them lest the inept jovial butterfly made a fool of herself. While she passed them, the sentries bore reverence to the daughter of mirage. Outwardly, she reciprocated their esteem, but intimately, the aquatic maiden felt like some freakshow. This life, one of nobility, wasn't a future she had ever prepared for. To have so many looking up to you for guidance was a hefty burden. An obligation, while onerous, she had born. Soughing to ameliorate her vexed spirit, she'd proceed regardless before halting outside of the royal chambers. Fear took hold, temporarily paralyzing Zelena while she endeavored to rouse her morale. She had made it this far. There was no turning tail now. She took in one final inhale before giving the door three knocks. "My moon and star, I wish to speak with you." Those large doors budged, letting loose a creak as those insatiable feelers wiggled through the gap. Zelena hesitated, giving her time to process how to go about this ritual one more time. Liaison was never her metier. She had learned how to "seduce" by reading books penned by people who knew about love from other texts. Finally, she'd step through only to then secured the door behind her. The octopus leaned against the barrier with her hands behind her back. Meanwhile, those suction cups adhered to the surface. Her pigmentation and texture altered to mirror the material, only to return to its natural state. "I.." She paused, clearing her throat. "I hope this is a good time? Can you perhaps spare a few minutes? It won't take much of your time." It was clear who held the bridles in their amorous affair. During their salacious waltz, Zelena took control; outside of that theatre, Niazmina reigned as queen supreme.

It had been some time since Zelena had pranced under its mushroom caps. Fungal forest. This grove of verdure and spongey growths might have flouted the desert, yet within its herbage prowled equally ravenous predators. She had trodden down these overgrown roads before, albeit for differing motivations. Her last expedition within this citadel of reagents was to quash the master of the roots. An authoritarian that exerted its influence to coerce the varenkun under its pitiless yoke. And while she might have eradicated such an aberration. The remembrances from that day were not so quickly cleansed from her mind. Those were simpler times, an epoch that few recalled fondly. And while it may have been ripe with scrabble, Zelena had known some facade of normalcy. The cephalopod reminisced of her time with her father and the associates she encountered along the way. Most of which were long since departed, just a list of names offered to stoke the wasteland's hunger for destruction. And though the years had rolled on by, ultimately becoming decades. The odious face of the sands never withered, even if it were under new management. She'd make no mistake; while the forest might appear tranquil, it wasn't dew that wetted the soil. It was the misting of blood from the innocence eviscerated upon that same tabernacle that doused those dehydrated roots. The alien stood out. Her emerald skin and brownish armor of organic matter ensured such. Zelena made all the more memorable when one's eyes did unfailingly rove over to those aquatic feelers burdening her weight across the wilderness. The octopus was seated, while that mass of writhing tentacles had fashioned what could only be described as a throne. Those spinal whips buffeted against the earth, leaving their impressions as the disturbance of rustling foliage and twigs snapping sailed across the acoustics. The horror cared little about advertising her presence, assuming it best to be loud as she vamoosed in search of her objective. Such din might attract particular eyes, but its bluster might fright other predators. While conceivably inadvisable, she had selected this route, comprehending full well the peril it might bestow. Zelena's senses were whetted, those observant optics monitoring athwart the mushroom expanse for suspicious activities. Meanwhile, that garb of tissue shifted about, slithering across her hourglass figure almost as if sentient. Her pupils deviated, separating into two as they moved vertically toward the rim of their ocular prison. Such lanterns were exceptional, radiating a soft luster of emerald and topaz while the two iris rotated circularly. The cacophony of her voyages had hushed the wildlife, overlaying the region in an eerie stillness that only further underlined her clangorous approach. Those heterokaryon foci met back in the center, converging into a single pit of blackness, rivaling that of the shade of ink. One needn't know her campaign to cull that this abomination was on an assignment, that her rovings were not by chance alone. Something greater fueled her, as those same tendrils that carried the monstrosity overturned rocks and other such debris. The strange woman groused under her breath, only to discontinue her rummaging to gawk up at the welkin. The rare passing of a cloud sullied their fathomless blue depths. Zelena had missed those binary suns, their warmth and light mustering memories of her preadolescence. Selvetar, Amenhotep, Osiris, Almalexia, Amun, Rakash, Ara'thyrel, Ryse, Garnot were all dead. Yet Zelena swore if she hearkened to the wind that she could at times make out their whispers. It appeared that despite her knowledge, notwithstanding her powers and profane ancestry, the mistress of boneless limbs was helpless to bring them back. Yet their time together, no matter how brief, frequently fired away within her mind. The creature awoke in a cold sweat many nights, only to weep and rock herself back to sleep. A mother is never meant to outlive her children. To have done so is a fate Zelena wouldn't wish even on her worst adversaries. And while she had invested her time being benevolent to others, karma had yet to reward her largesse. Instead, the only thing she reaped was more despondency and the darkness she called home. Yet it was through work that she kept her ululation stifled. And while maybe not the soundest of actions, it had bequeathed some succor to an otherwise undeserving organism. Calmly, the octopus lowered herself sliding off that seat of noodles. Her feelers grazed across the ferns while her skin tone and texture shifted to best match them. Immediately it returned to its normal state with goosebumps tarrying behind such a near-instant metamorphosis. The aquatic mutant had slaked for one thing, acceptance. Ironically, the tentacled matron materialized with empty hands. Such introspection inspired her to focus on her palms as they faced heavenward, only for the clicking of her oral muscles to intonate out inaudibly. She utilized her sonar ability to detect if any were to creep while she brooded. And even if she sensed one arriving, the ambusher would feign obliviousness as long as she could—a mode to draw any menaces into a faulty state of confidence. One that Zelena expected she could manipulate if their volitions were anything but benevolent.

https://www.whitesandempire.com/zelena Zelena Timanti (Memoria) Played since 2015