Turpis' hollow eyes stared down as he inspected his form. His natural state. Unaltered. Natural. Primal. His flesh was black as obsidian and seemed to make the area around him two shades darker. From head to toe the Djinn was a shadow, save for his claws and forearms which glowed like molten rock. The whole of his hands were this blazing shade, though as it progressed up his forearm the orange transitioned to that deep obsidian. Still, the orange was visible up both of his biceps and well onto his chest and back in the form of intricate designs. It was to these that his attention had been drawn.
The Djinn took a deep inhale, causing that molten orange to slowly lose its vigor. It dulled to a greyish red as it "cooled" without the air within his lungs. It was when he exhaled that the visible blaze returned. Turpis repeated the focused breathing for several moments as he composed himself. His eyes traveled from his own form, to the concrete block that was before him. This was his target.
His chest rose as he drew the air in once more. He held it, and in that moment he felt peace and serenity. It was at that point that he exhaled and lowered his palm onto the brick with such force that, for an instant, a spiderweb fracture was visible upon its surface before it shattered. As the rubble fell to the floor, Turpis inhaled once more. Not a single fragment of the concrete brick was allowed to land.
