Teapot in a Tempest
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Juniper stood looking out over the seemingly placid horizon of her mindscape. A mostly calm ocean stretching from horizon to horizon as far as the could see in any direction. Her feet stood atop the watery surface as firmly as she would on land, with only the the crests of waves splashing at her ankles. Juniper's mildly sour mood reflected in the gusty breezes that whipped up her airy white dress, and also stirred the occasional white cap on the other wise calm surface..
From beneath the surface came the muffled murmurs of a diverse extraplanar crowd. All four elemental languages (especially Ignan), infernal, abyssal, celestial, and many others that only the most ancient of sages could identify. Many better left unidentified. With the ocean growing a tad choppy, those myriad voices lashed out louder with the waves, their murmur was the sound of ocean here.
'...fortune was mostly true....' '...don't.... don't love you..'
Those words echoed in the wind, and a sudden squall set over the sea, as the clear conditions became swiftly foggy. The choppy waves grew into an angry swell, and the volume of voices grew with the storm that dragged Juniper down below the previously impermeable surface.. She was forced to fight to keep her head above the surface she once stood on. Something grabbed her ankles and dragged deeper into the swirling cacophony in the depths. By reflex she kicked at whatever had grabbed h old of her and fought her way back to the surface to gasp for breath. Adrift in the deafening maelstrom, it was all Juniper could do to keep from being pulled under again, and that's all she could hope to do until the storm's rage was spent.
