[@timelord1101]

Zyrid passed over the brief five hundred page chapter on heat and its effects on light, zipping to the end of the book just as the white haired women spoke. It was a rare and strange occurrence for him to leave the security of the ring of Lokei - not to mention extremely painful and inconvenient. Though, this wouldn't be the first time he had left the comfort of his library to explore the material plane, nor the first time he had done so for a woman.

Reluctantly, but with a sly smile, Zyrid began to stand from his chair and walk towards the bookcase in front of him. The leathery pigments and occasional golden trim dimmed in color, a shallow shadow of a door appearing among the books. A few steps from this looming archway, Zyrid's form began to shift and distort. His long streaked grey hair began to snake down his torso and beneath his linen shirt, his features momentarily covered by long fluid grey lines that flowed across his now paling skin.

The wrinkles of his body began to stretch and release an elastic power, his skin thickening and his complexion reducing significantly in age. From his now bald face sprouted thick dark hairs, short and standing to attention. His white eyes darkened as everything else did, stopping in between a pale blue and light grey, like a clear water lake over a vast stony plateau. His arched nose straightened into a chiseled feature of impressive sharpness, as did his jaw and previously sagging chin. The plain garments stretched and tore around his new form, dropping to the floor as he walked.

Stood now, a foot away from the dark looming outline of a grand doorway, is young man of impressive stature and muscularity. His perfect appearance disputed only by a deep scar running along the left eye and down to the jaw. His starkly naked body smooth and bronzed in the most natural sense, like expertly tanned leather. Zyrid was now his young self, a previous invention of humanity he had experimented with a decade or two before the present. He had always enjoyed this body as he strolled through the material plane, it gave him a viable edge in comparison to his newly imagined old fart facade.

With a brief glimpse down at his defined pectorals and evident but not overly obscene abdominal muscles - as well as that which lies further down, which was of course humbly impressive - Zyrid let out a contently calm sigh. An [i]athletic build[/i], as Zyrid remembers noting it down during his invention stage, the [i]air of confidence with the slightest drop of vulnerability[/i]. [i]Mysterious to the point of excitement[/i], but [i]not too alien[/i] that  onlookers feel disconnected.

Zyrid could visualize his notes as he took the last step through into the material plane. For a moment the dark archway led into nothingness, no sound and yet not silent, an immovable lack of anything - and then everything at once. Every vibrant color, vivid emotion, sensory stimulus, unavoidable sound and an equilibrium of every temperature all in one moment. Then, as his body was squeezed through a pin sized hole in this plane, his foot met the floor after an eternity of stillness and Zyrid appeared before the white haired female.

Dressed in complimentary tight leathers and silk undergarments against his skin, Zyrid smiled genuinely and gave a small combination of a nod and bow towards the beauty before him. Raising his head back, he slicked a strong hand between the jet black strands atop his head and pushed back his shoulder length hair behind his ears. Hefting his wide shoulders back he cracked his neck. Then, awkwardly, and most suddenly, Zyrid screamed - excessively loud and at a heart wrenching pitch - the journey through the eternal dark hitting him begrudgingly and without warning with an immense and endless onslaught of everything imaginable.

Zyrid's handsome material form passed out cold.