A-Dress the World
Sordina Crescendo a niente Part 2

Written by Septia.


Kahina looked to the stage. Then gazed upon the gathered crowd. Murmurs whistled between them. Questions, causal banter intermingled with concern. Where was the maven? The grand virtuoso Sona? Her performance was set to begin… 
	It itched Kahina’s thoughts. Seconds ticked by… 
	She stood. Shuffling from the crows into the back of the amphitheater. Sona had been, distant, this morning. Perhaps rehearsing in private. Wasn't uncommon. But, why would she be so late? Kahina wandered backstage, the first guards recognizing a Buvelle. but the deeper. Where could she be… Her footsteps echoed. Another empty room… In fact… it was, all empty? There were no musicians or stagehands, no directors or cosmetic artist. It all felt… abandoned. Until she heard. A scratching. Behind a drape. Stepping closer, she grabbed the drape's hem', pulling it aside. 
	“Sona?” 
	Kahina was met with the sight of a palm, hanging in the air, torn and unravelled into a helix of shimmering threads trawling backwards, until nothing remained, but a cowering mass of satin and velvet. 
	Hues of clear, vibrant capri and the deepest sapphire: a tropical ocean captured in woven form, with sprawling rivers of cerulean hair, droopig down to turquoise yellow gradients… it was the palette of her sister's dress. 
	“S-… Sona?” 
	I turned my head to her, held out my arms, to drop my dress, letting it sprawl out. I rose to near the high roof of the auditorium's backstage, standing over twice her height. 
	She stood there, transfixed, shuddering. I gestured my fingers pinched, then pointed to my chest. 'Fine, me, am fine, dear sister of mine.' 
	Her countenance contorted as I entered her mind, and shared my voice with her. But I still signed, showing her it was still me. '“You always worry so much, dearest, sweetest sister of mine.”' I leaned down to her, gazing into her eyes. Fear? Perhaps. I could not quite tell. 
	“Susana? You… what is, how are you… speaking?” 
	She was so precious. I wrapped my fingers around her, hoisting her up like a plush toy before me. '”Sister of mine… it is… so good. I have seen this city, its prejudice and hate, and I will make it beautiful, I will make everything beautiful. I… will be beautiful.”' 
	“S… Sona,” I saw tears form, I heard the gentle blue of their drooping down her cheeks. '“Sister of mine, there is no need for sadness.”' I say, moving down to my knees, and laying Kahina down at her back, feet resting against my bust, brow wider, plumper even despite minimum additions to my expanded proportions. '“You will be with me, you must, the precious family I have. You have earned a place in my heart.”' I explained, and slowly shimmied forwards. My bust bulldozing over her legs, thighs sinking up into my cleavage as I shuffled forwards. She was at most a fourth of my height, at most, as big as a youngling to care for. To hold close. She struggled. Planted her palms against my soft jugs and pushed, though I advanced in my gentle pace. The cusp of my dress brassier warping upwards, cradling around her back as she was engulfed in the press of skin and velvet. 
	“Sona, please s-stop, Susana. Yo-… y-youh… ooooofmm… mmmngh…” The further she went, the more her body was smothered in my velvet pudge, the less she struggled, the more she moaned. -Chhtp- down to her stomach… -Chstltpth- up to her midriff… “Mmfnnapha. Aa, S-sister…” she wheezed, reaching her hands out towards me. I stopped. And leaned in. Letting her hug my neck as I embraced her in turn. A long moment, spent in interlinked cuddling on the desolate floor. -Chhrlfptah- I hugged her as she sank. -Chfllrth- I hugged her as she moaned. -Chffflprth- I hugged her… -Cflpthp- … Until there was nothing left to hug. I pressed the cushioned magnitude of my bust, cupping my chest as I rose, kneading into them, in gentle, pliant gropes… I felt her. I heard her singing, singing with them. With me… her tissue spun into mine, joining the chorus. I was already so beautiful… but all together, we would shine brighter.
	The lights in the amphitheater went out. The murmers grew louder, then petered out. Gradually, a coursing moonstone light burgeoned up onto the stage. I spread my dress wide, the gattar fabric of my bell veil beaming in around the low deep lapiz of my skirt. My fingers soared over the strings, weaving into a melody of all I felt, all I experienced, on my et al. Forming notes none of which were hereto forgotten by history. The crowd's murmurs were replaced by oohs and humming admiration. I rose. I reached out to their minds, shaping their memories into chords, attuning my voice through them as my instruments. 
	“People of Demacia, this will be the first you hear the voice of a mute. My name is long-lost, but I am known as Lady Sona Buvelle, maven and virtuoso of the etwahl. Tonight, is of more taboo than a performance, but the music, the music of magic, of ancient realms, and of peace.” The murmurs ramped up again. 
	“There will be no need for strive, or war, or prejudice, I, shall wipe it clean. And all will join onto me, to my grand beauty.” I raised an arm, and let the shimmer of my dress bathe the hall in sapphire and lapiz aqua light.
	“Relinquish thine life; I will weave my dress with your mortal coils.” I could have soothed them. Transfix them with my music. I did not. Instead, I closed my eyes, and listened to the screams, to their scramble and fear… I wanted to hear that, one last time, before I wiped it clean.


My dress sprawled out over the first row, smothering the scrambling seats into lumps of velvet that cascaded through the crowd. -Chhrffwthaot- A trembling stroke of fleece against gravel -Chhfggbbflg- rumbled as the fabric smothered their squirms and struggles. All entombed under tithe dense fabric as they melted into piles to tuft my dress or were spooled into threads weaving through the warps. Each life an addition to the thread count of my attire. The isles to the exits were filled with scampering, stumbling nobility. Moving out of my reach… Though with each life coil spinning into my being I incorporate their mass into the chorus, my body growing so hard that it reeked like fresh pine growing to break through a husk of rotten bark -JjjrCktthht- -Gnrnrggngshkrks-. I let my shawl trains loll over the ground, drawling forwards as massive tongues of charmeuse fabric carpeting the floor, lapping over the stragglers, their forms unravelled, spooled to extend the cloth, each fallen guest adding another meter of reach, steamrolling the isles under the sea of capri satin, till it reached the crowd attempting to pry the doors open, smothering them in my fabric -Chhrrlpghtah-. Their screams snuffed out as they contributed to the knot count. Shimmering with a gleam that spread up my trains, shimmering golden signs flashing up as new embroidery across them, broadcasting the tales of the lives which all contributed to me… to this, profound glory. 
	“Mmgmphaaa mm phaa thf…” I hear myself pant, as I whispered in their minds. There are… so may of you. So much…” My mind pulsed. My body throbbed. Each one brought such… satisfaction throughout me, bathing in the essence of their lives. It was so… stimulating… I reached out with the train, curling it around a handful of the crowd, and snuck them underneath my dress, up, up towards my lap, and plastered them into my flesh… massaging the bundle of people into my growing form, drowning them in the lust and liquid satisfaction their sacrifice brought me… Whilst they tended my garden, I looked out on the field of seats, so many gathering at the center, away from my straps. I was nearing the roof of the auditorium., towering over them. So small, so very small. I let my sleeve droop over the seats, sweeping upwards, gently brushing and grinding cloth to cloth as it roamed over them -Chfhfhfhhst- “Come… come now…” I encouraged them. As my growing, hanging sleeve sagged over seats and patrons, hoovering them up into my furi sleeves like one gigantic vacuum. The streams dampening. I followed the coarse khaki hues of their shouts, seeing each one in clear contrast to the pale cerulean light which basked from my emminance. Until every speck was silenced. I brought my sleeve back, turning it towards me… brim to brim, the fury laid packed with people. Little sardines flailing and squirming against one another in the grasp of my cloth: A coquette of souls in all manner of shimmering hues and chrome. I admired them for a moment, taking my time to imagine their course, unrefined mishmash of styles and colors. There was beauty to be found in this shamble. But… imagine. “Imagine how sublime you will make me,” I mused. And moaned. 
	Gradually, from the outer rim, the populace in my palm wilted, like petals of a rose in late autumn, shrivelling up to a deep cobalt that their form was converted into fabrics, and spooled into threads drawing in my dress. The piping of my dress opened, the scruffy twine marked contours and edges of my attire fishing in the lines of the unspooled crowd. The sleeve closed up, tighter, as fewer and fewer people remained, the ring of wilting moonstone faces contracting: flesh, bone, and souls spun into yarn spanning throughout my dresses sturdy piping, into my spine, out through my bones; I feel them displace and warp the depths of my brawn and tissue. Melding, sprouting fresh thread and softer ghiordes knot plies through the velvet cupping my body. Every stretch of my being massaged by the Essene of the crowd wasting away in the palm of my hand. I closed around them, slowly, the last few screams turned to moans, turned to a scraping brush of wooly flesh -Chhrhs- Hfhhs- and then… into nothing. All that remained of the previously congested sleeve, was my fist. Cluttered so my knuckles were toned bone white… “Mfmmfa mammfhaaa,” I moaned, panting heavily with the breath of my own lungs, as it flourished me, emboldened me. -Scruff- The creaks and cracks of straining pliant brawn echoed through the empty amphitheater, as my head hit the sealing, my neck, my shoulders, burrowing up into the sculpted stone of petricite, the magic stone, that now laid dormant. 


I erupted from the building, in an orgasmic hail of pulverized rock hail and gysers of radiant hair. My moans echoed in the crumbling destruction of the amphitheater below. My moans, my voice, blanketing the Great city of Demacia. There I stood, a torrent of flowing trains levitating into tendrils through the air, and a mermaid skirt spanning up through the crumbled hole in the roof to sweep over the devastation below. The citizens gazed upon me… they gazed, at the birth of a new dawn. 


~ 1 ~


There were so many of them… little insects scrambling below. I rose as tall as the buildings, gazing upon the districts below. Sirens rang out, paining streaks of coral through the surrounding air. Along the beige cries from below. It was so pretty. Certainly a cacophony of voices and sheer noise, but it was. Precious. Perhaps, because I knew it would not last for long. 
	Down at ground level, civilians fled. Human, yordle, golem, fish folk, all fabric to be patched onto my threadings. I first stood calm, and let the train of my dark dress sprawl out: a black hole of the fairest velvet. It stretched over streets, crawled over buildings, enveloped and blanketed every streets around me. Their demise was swift, plush, to be certain, the softest texture they had ever experienced. Draping them from head to toe, smothering them, and reboiling them… steaming bodies reduced to a steaming mass drained into my form. Every life an addition to the choire, to the temple of my body. A faint joint through my muscles, endearing, but transient. The more I absorbed, the less, special it became. For now, I knew that they were all, just part of me. They just didn't know yet. I strolled down. Faint steps letting my snaking velvet blanket quarters of the city, strapping up over buildings, and subsuming them, breaking down concrete, rock, and dull petricite, all together, melding it into the molten mass of polymer… as I stroke, this polymer spread out in my wake, a trail of scintillant shimmering lurid fluid, from which long vines of yarn drew back to my dress, slowly converting rock, metal, and wood into polymer thread. Artificial perhaps, though it spun into fine silk and cotton when infused with the populace. As I walked I felt my dress get crowded, the plain pattern taut and dense of knots. So I let it accommodate. Brushing down my cloak and feeling knots and thread rewire, frame and sprits themselves into new patters, folding in on each other with a shimmer like a coupon's camouflage, as the criss crossing plain switch bent into a twill pattern. Softer, vibrant, smoother, and so gently articulated. I felt all the more free as I moved, each new pick and knot giving the feeling of adding a new joint to my body.
	There were those that fought against me. Spears, fire and claws, though they made the mistake of getting too close… In the end, they were just curving in line, frayed, woven, and extending my reach. Some launched assaults on my hair. I felt… an ache, though, with this control I felt over myself, I could move each lock as easy as I could a finger. And the threads of my hair, the threads of my dress, what did it matter? They were all ensnared and spooled into my yarn all the same. I leaned down over a military district, smiling as I saw them scrambling and scurrying to and fro. Down on my knees, I spread out my arms, and wrapped them up in a hug. Cloaking them in my furi sleeves, shrouded in gleaming velvet and satin, bulges and lumps of buildings and infantry ahead of me, like one big pillow. -Ghhchth- Chglpghth- a pillow, that smelted under the pressure of my cloth, deflating under my grasp. They were all like chocolate: looking solid, rough and study on the outside. But, as soon as you grab it, as soon as it is exposed to my warmth and touch… it melts. The pricks of their assaults faded below me, into one broad lump enveloped in my cloth, smothering them all into my fabrics, stretching their essence as warps and wefts to weave new patterns, new trains and shawls for my dress. To take in all this stimulation, all these sensations… it wore on me, but it was a burden I would carry: I would soon enough wear all of them. So scream, scream as long as you can, scream, so I have something to remember you by. 


~ 2 ~


Zoe was intrigued. When seeing the stream of time and dimensions flow beside you, it was a whole different experience than living in linear time with all the ‘lil beings. In the real space plane of runeterra everyone had colour and faces and expressions and movements. But in between, higher, in the flow of time. Everyone. Was a blur. A grey haze of all their choices, actions, ideas, and consequences. Stretching from every point they'd ever visit in their life, and where their essenc travelled after their demise. A sea of gray. But, there was something new. Someone different, someone who stood out. A sapphire silhouette. It wasn't a haze, it didn't show its past or future, it moved and walked like anyone in real space. As if… They were in all times? Or… perhaps… It fascinated the traveller. To see someone break the norm. Standing out. Good for them~. But after a while, the silhouette grew. Larger. And the surrounding haze, faded… Zoe watched from afar. As the entity grew. Eclipsing the city of Demacia, and spreading its tendrils wide and far. 
	“Well now, we can't have that, can we?” she said. And just then, trains of cloth honed in on her, sprawling across the land. 
	“Mmm, nuh uh,” Zoe said, shifting through a portal to the past, surely there was some way to fix this, or someone she could ask. closing the portal behind her- -Chhrltph- her ankle snagged by a knot of hair. She stared back. The cloth followed her, through the non existent portal. Zoe snapped a lock of her hair off and ran, the cloth pursued. There were so many questions scrambling through her head, there had been nothing able to follow her like this. Who could. She needed to reach the past now. Another portal opened. And there: before her sprawled a landscape of capri and aqua, intermingled with endless lazuli deep as the midnight sky and bright as the stars. Writhing, crawling. Trains and tendrils of the finest silk and cuttanes satins. Her eyes bugled. “B-but, this is the past? I-… I went to the past?” she stammered. The straps from the presence caught up to her. And the waves of fabric in the past converged. As twilight was spooled into gleaming threads of starlight.


~ 3 ~


I awoke to stirrings around my ears. Sharp grey streaks. Cutting through my dreams. Raptor mounted cavalry hovered around me, launching spears as easily as they did bolts of forbidden magic. It had been so comfortable to relax, for a moment, to leave the seams to settle, the weave work. Though it was not to last. I rose. Tall as buildings stacked upon each other. My hair whipping out into my assailants, ensnaring them, and bringing them back into the folds of my satin bands. I stretched, peering over the city. Paved smooth in my rampage, a budding brushstroke erasing the canvas of the city. Bulbs under the cloth, restrained and vanishing. There was barely a city to speak of. A soothing white noise suspended above it. I had an urge… Kneeling down, I dug through the building, rummaged through streets, until I found a particular boutique. Deeper still, under the scratching of my digits, laid a cellar, in which Olivier cowered. I offered her my hand. She could not refuse. She spoke something, surely, though her voice was so small. She need not speak. I placed her against the left bow of my shawl, letting her back be woven into the twain wave, imprinted as a faintly embroidery of bronze: the maker's mark. 
	I rose. And began, to wander. Hovering above the ground, my dress train carpeted the landscape ahead and behind me. Winding out as tendrils straps to encase buildings, boulders, and farmland, it was all distilled into thread. My chapel trains had grown so long, draping building lengths behind me, a true cathedral train, the one of monarchs. As I strode across the Greenfang mountains. I feel myself breath in the fabric, feel the rest embracing me, as I embraced it, even the velvet of my dress skirt were now soft and thin like satin, fluffy, fuzzy, yet shimmering like strands of ore. The bands draping and scooping up landscape around me, giving a headcount of an impossibly dense chiffon, whose gossamer glare flared into a shining halo in the light of our star. The bands of my shawl dug deeper, further through the ground, uprooting foundations to topple, and falling into the cushioned embrace of my velvet. Long lengths of my skirt train bending backwards, licking up and cocooning the crumbling structures, folding in on itself to rake them, drawing them past the pile of the cushioning velvet, into the mesh of my thread count, melting into a crystallised synthetic cotton, smooth and glossy enough to fit being strung into the warps of my growing attire. I strode through nockmirch pass, along the Argent mountains, growing as the landscape collected towards me, melting down into my seams. I carpeted the valoran plains, until I reached noxus. A land of conquerors, their immortal bastion taunting the world with their influence, just like Demacia. They saw me coming. It did not mater. I had grown, so, so tall, I conversed with the clouds. Their bastion was of no concern. I strode past it, letting it be enveloped in my wake, as I journeyed over the sea. 


~ 4 ~


Scores of meeps gathered, scuttling over one another as the paving bands warped and twisted the surroundings. They gathered with the others atop the mountain, upon which a single being sat, observing the titan's chaos through the landscape, its tendrils carving through the ground like a solid steel through clay. They turned to the creature, they turned to the bard, waiting, curious, they knew not what to do as the fabric of the world crumbled. 
	Bard merely sat there. Staring out into the continents swept clean. It brandished its instrument… and played in the tunes of the universe, played in accordance with the balance of all things, at harmony with the strings of the ancient Etwahl. As the tidal wave of zaffre washed up the mountain, and swallowed rock, stone, and starfarer alike, into the ensemble of souls. 


~ 5 ~


The continent of Ionia… divided by the Shon-xan mountain range. Across it, was my origin. I stepped up to the mountain, smothering the villages and towns alike, just for a view… Ralin island. How small it was. In the grander scene I was invoking, it was cute… I considered it, hours of resting, as the foundation of Ionia's western half was stripped barren by the trains of my cloak. And shawls. Weaving a second bend of bands above my shawl, bell shaped on either end, converging behind my head. As I rose, it was under the shining silhouette of a great heart, my shadow looming over the island. I leaned down, over the mountain, my bust draping across the Shon-xan mountain rage, and bulldozing, into the water between the mainland, tidal waves crashing upon he shores, as I embraced the island. Just like I had my sister. I was no longer of this land. That Sona was long since gone. But this land, was of me… As everything was. The more my dress consumed, the larger I grew, the more I came to fathom this was more than about a pitiful city, or its people, or even this its world. As my bosom burrowed and bulldozed my birth island, its mountain and foundations degrading into rocks, to pebbles, to gravel, to dust, and the dust spun and woven into my being. It was soon time, to bid this world farewell. 


~ 6 ~


Mountain ranges forged by demigods, uprooted by the train straps of my dress, ensnared, cocooned by cloth and drawn in under the cloak of my dress. I panted softly. Towering above the atmosphere, above the continents. The train of my dress spreading, absorbing all the more, cloaking and subsuming the seas and land, molten into fabric to patch my sprawling dress. The weave had gone beyond twill or satin, but folding in on itself, warped and weft spooling and imploding into each other in patterns too dense to exist. And yet, I needed more. 


Soon I stood upon a world divided, cleaved in half, all absorbed, as my dress spread over the last of the world, enveloping it in the slumbering choir that sung through the seams. And I looked up upon the worlds beyond. Hearing the song so radiant as the light streamed from my cloak to rival any star… At this size, I could listen to the universe. See nebulae painting their chiming peel in rosy lavender and eminance purple. And it was there I had to venture. -Chhrrllgpgjsagh- The last crunch of the worlds, the foundation of my life, my planet… my planet, me. It was all here, playing the cadence of untold souls through the filaments of my being. As the very foundation of the celestial body siphoned into my being, I felt so much potential within it: Strife, horror, pain, along with joy, peace, and comfort, surging through the patchwork of my attire. All of this, I relinquished, emotions and potential freed. It jolted through the cloth, piping threads sprouting from frays at my back, broadened out to a skeleton of thread. Between each warp new threads materialised, weaving into fabrics in the hues of the continents and sea: emerald, turquoise, and lazuli patterns forming carpets of gossamer that sprawled free; I bore the weight of the world on my back. And so, I soared on wings birthed through the culmination of runterra's mortal coils, advancing through space, roaming over planets, stripping them of their hue, their life, their fate, all of it belonged to me.


Closing in towards our star I spread my arms, letting the seams of my sleeves come undone, and together with the coils of my shawl devouring its light, in a sphere of impossible satin. -Chhrnrgj- Cnasgkgak- The crackle of raw starlight breaking like porcelain into radiant spools of thread that painted the skies in grand tones of emerald and citrie. Gradually, the star was enveloped, my being forming a cocoon that was fed by its raw energy and heat, gutting itself to fuel my growth to devour it. Its light dimmed, the golden glow muted in the wrappings of my folds. Until the last sliver of light was covered. I stood before the enwrapped orb – half its height – sensing it crumbling. I embraced it. Arms clung to the cloth covered sun. I heard, the milling grind of stardust, and the creaking through my own body as stardust fed my fabric and sinew -Cnnrhhhnnch-. The star lessened in my grasp, as my form swallowed everything it had. Growing to match it, surpass it, cradling the cloaked star to my bosom, and subsumed. In the absence of its light, my radiance evolved, emmenating a pure shimmer of cerulean out of my being. And under my light, I witnessed the threads of reality, unveiled to me – text written in lemon nectar manifesting from the light emmenating off of my form . Leylines that connected all of existence, shining in a breathtaking, pattern. 
	I strummed my etwahl, and the universe hummed with me. Beautiful as it was, this pattern was crude, chaotic, a mess. But I could set it straight...


My hair elongated as I strode, with the size of a star under my belt the locks of my hair ensnared celestial bodies, Reeling them in towards me, crumbling into dust against my figure. I grew to surpass stars, past systems. The light of the universe weaving into my fabric, existence itself frayed and unravelling in my presence. Another solar system, into another, drifting between them was lonely, but for each I passed it went faster, soaring through the blackness of space as a shining star. The comet's tail train of my dress sweeping existence clean in my wake. Untold wires woven from silk of mortal and universal coils extended in a lattice around me, lassoing existence, converting it into my threads, which sprawled further as new yarn to convert all the more of existence. Planets fell as crumbs, untangled into its base materials, and woven into the ever stretching fabric. Silk which in turn weaved more silk. I lost count of the ends of my dress and hair alike. Sona spanned space beyond space. I only warped what was close by into new folds to reach the systems ahead. I felt myself in every thread, in ever millimeter of every knot and pick. 
	Systems passed me by without the grace of being imprinted on my memory, only gaining all that they had to offer, clusters of stars strained and forming into a pearl necklace as I feasted on nebulas. Everything. Galaxies beneath me, ascending to become me. More, more and more. I enveloped it all. Galaxies paved beneath the breadth of my being into a clean canvas. Every light, every shadow drawn in, absorbed and reflected into refractions of every form of light: a spectrum of colours tinted in my lapis and cerulean as it filtered out of my body. All of me, hair, dress, mind, expanded, reknit and transcended past what the woman known as Sona could have fathomed.
	I met with the star forger. They seemed upset. It was precious. We had no need of a forger, now that there was a loom. Another stepping stone to reach higher, beyond galaxy clusters, beyond light, beyond darkness.


Serenity… undiluted silence. Blackness, in all directions. I smiled, a shimmering thread of raw purple from the void joined the patterns of my weaves. And then, there would be… nothing. There would be nothing, and everything. My light, my music, covered all of existence. I carried within me the hum of light, of existence, of reality itself. A harmony of my own making. I strummed the strings of the universe, I played myself as the instrument of existence. I stood alone, as the fabric of reality… and I sang, a voiceless aria.