'Children of The Shroud' - A Dark Fantasy RP (Interest/Recruitment - CLOSED AND STARTED)

[NinjaDeathSlap]

[HEADING=1]CHAPTER 3[/HEADING]

3 Days Later...

Spoiler

The Training Hall was located far 'deeper' into the Sanctuary, than any of the areas the new apprentices had been in before they'd been inducted into the family. It was at least a hundred feet wide and over four times as much in length, with smooth, concave walls and cylindrical pillars, that were moulded out of the floor and ceiling like strands of viscous fluid, delicately held in a channel between two equidistant pools. Rather than being arranged in uniform rows and columns, the pillars criss-crossed the room in a manner that would have been declared nonsense by any self-respecting architect.

The Old Man stood on a balcony at the far end of the hall, curved staircases that seemed to require no support, fanning out to either side of him to lead down into the main pit. Lightly, his hands brushed against the semi-circle of stone that came up to his waist in front of him, as he looked down upon the new Children, sparring or otherwise training with their mentors.

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With a small, slightly insolent smile, Darius faced off against Sparrow. He stood opposite around twelve feet away from her, side on and back straight, with his legs wide apart and with their balance perched upon the balls of his feet. Around his layered, loose fitting grey robes, the air almost seemed to dance and crackle with energy, motes of dust buzzing as they flitted to and fro. Extending an arm, he made a single encouraging gesture with his index finger.

"Hit me, if you can." He told her simply.

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Minerva skipped happily in a wide circle around where Will stood, still and expectant, waiting for the moment to spring into action. As she toyed with him, she giggled (as well as making affectionate cooing noises whenever she passed around the back).

When she eventually judged that the time was right, she snapped her fingers, and in a flash Will was alone. In pitch darkness, Will felt the barrage of a storm whipping around his face and shoulders. Inside his mind, he was wet through in seconds, and the icy wind cut him deep, disorientating him as it howled past his ears. A thunderclap, and suddenly a figure was rushing at Will through the downpour, screaming a hoarse battle-cry and holding the shaft of its spear true, on a path to skewer Will right through the gut. As a second figure also appeared through the grey murk, teeth bared and sabre rattling, Minerva's disembodied laughter could be heard in the echoes of the thunder.

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"Your power is the will of death itself. Channel it. Understand what it is to take the most basic factor of life itself, and turn it upon itself..."

These words were spoken among the hubbub by Olegg, Selena's mentor, as he placed a small goblet full of water on the floor at her feet, before standing back, watching with expectant eyes. Nodding, he gave her the all-clear to begin the attempt.

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The dim light of the hall made the delicate blade of the stiletto dagger in Cecilia's hand seem to glow a silvery blue colour, as she advanced on Maggie.

"At this early stage, I shan't be aiming for anywhere lethal." she said, matter-of-factly. "I know it hurts still, but just concentrate and try not to flinch too much. Oh, and if you lose a finger, don't dwell on it. Your body isn't used to your ability yet, so trying too hard to re-attach something that has been severed is more likely to impede you than it actually is to help. Let it flow naturally."

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"You're getting a good grasp of the basics. Now, for something a little more challenging."

Sigmund, standing opposite Skylar, opened the breast of his robes, to reveal row upon row of pockets inside. Each one housed a slender cylinder, wrapped in some kind of black paper, with wicks sticking out of the top.

"These are flash bombs." He explained "Completely non-lethal, but you'll have quite the headache after a few of them go off in your face. Their light is powerful, but only last a split second."

As he spoke, Sigmund removed the first flash bomb, and lit the fuse.

"Catch the light. Use it to blind your enemy before he blinds you." he said, tossing the lit bomb across the divide between them.

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Giles and Poppy, the waif girl who had collected him fro his initiation, circled each other, their arms each raised towards the other, and their stares fixed. A small smile curled around the edge of Polly's lip, as her little finger twitched. In the same moment, Giles left wrist twisted around into an incredibly uncomfortable angle, forcing him to arch his back and fall to his knees.

"Come on, you can do better than that." She teased, releasing him from her grip and allowing him to stand again. "There's no use in controlling others if you can't keep control of yourself."

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Tammy was sat beside Langston, cross-legged, trying to hide her increasing boredom as she watched the clock tick over and over, and over. It wasn't that she wasn't taking her mentor duties seriously; just that, without Langston's self-same ability, how was she supposed to judge when he'd managed to do it?!

"Is time going as slowly for you as it is for me right now?" She asked, trying to make light of it, though she wasn't sure if Langston would appreciate the humour.

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"To begin with, the illusions will be easier if you have a visual reference for them." Arnold, the tall assassin stated, as he stood in front of Andra, arms akimbo.

"Feel free to take a good long look before you start. It's all in the detail... Now, show me my reflection."

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"Relax, they're only rats. Well, big rats." Brutus growled, as he placed the large box in front of Ezrah, a box that rustled and squeaked in constant, frantic fashion.

"There all blind, these ones. Not much use for their eyes, the ones that live all the way down here. Their sense of smell though? There no beating it." he continued. As he said so, Brutus reached into the folds of his robes, and withdrew a raw, juicy steak.

"These buggers have been dining on the finest cuts of beef you've ever tasted this last week, they can't get enough of the stuff." He said with an almost affectionate grin. "Let's see if you can make the think there's something even tastier over your way?"

 

[lacktheknack]

Andra stared.

She drank in the visuals before her, distilling each detail into an irreplaceable spot in her reconstruction of the image before her. It was difficult, but she felt that she could do it.

Andra suddenly changed her focus, deciding that she had an accurate enough image. She began to pretend that there was the image she had visualized was hanging in the air before her, and she believed it as hard as she had ever believed in anything before. Then, suddenly, it was.

She mentally turned it towards Arnold, and it turned. Arnold cocked his eyebrow as he looked upon his reflection's details. The reflection slowly cocked its eyebrow as well.

Don't show off, Andra. You still don't have complete illusions to show off with.

This was true - the image's rear end was facing Andra, and it looked incredibly silly. The robes in the back merely clumped together in a series of lumps that ran down the spine like a lizard, only holding the robe on with prayers and hope. The image's hair was also something of a disaster, flaring out at the bottom like roots and ending very suddenly when it met the robe-lumps. It had such a distracting appearance that the illusion began to waver as Andra lost focus.

She shut her eyes, wishing that the illusion would stabilize.

It did.

Andra began to feel fatigue again, but held the image in place as Arnold examined it.

 

[Fappy]

"Your power is the will of death itself. Channel it. Understand what it is to take the most basic factor of life itself, and turn it upon itself..."

Why did he have to make it sound so dramatic? She was just changing the properties of liquid from one thing to another, after all. 'The will of death itself' sounded like a far more absolute affair than what she was capable of. Then again, her ability was rather 'absolute' when she thought about it. Most poisons could be treated, while others weren't even powerful enough to kill a healthy adult in the first place. If Olegg was to be believed, Selena's could kill anyone so long as she willed it so.

"How can I know if it worked after I've tried? Are you going to taste it yourself?" Selena asked incredulously. She assumed she could control the magnitude of its lethality, but even then she couldn't hope to find any volunteers. Few sane men would voluntarily drink poison.

Stepping forward, she knelt down and touched her fingers to the surface of the clear liquid. Closing her eyes, she pictured in her mind a kind of vortex. At first it was clear, but as it spun and spun it gradually darkened until it was a shade of black she didn't have the words to describe. Then she felt something click in her head. When she opened her eyes she saw that the liquid hadn't changed color or consistency at all.

That didn't really mean much though.

"Did it work?" she blurted.

 

[The Funslinger]

Setting aside his shock at the illusions invading his mind, Will forced himself into action. The horse was bearing down on him. His first thought was to teleport out of the way, but the purpose of this exercise was to test the power unique to him. Besides, he and the others had barely touched on their shared abilities. There was a good chance it wouldn't work, and he'd be skewered by that spear. Best stick to what he knew.

His heavy brown coat kept the pistols on his belt dry, and now he swept it back to draw left handed. Cocking the hammer, he aimed and fired, not at the rider, but at the exposed chest and neck of the horse. It jolted madly as his shot hit home in its throat, blood spraying everywhere to mingle with the water. Its forelegs went out from under it, and its rider was thrown. As the horse lay twitching, Will felt a surge through his whole body. It was uplifting and energizing, unlike anything he'd felt before. The closest reference of comparison he had was chewing some strange leaves with the other men from his crew when they'd plundered a smuggler's vessel trying to bring in illegal goods.

The leaves had been nowhere near as intense.

Turning, he saw the rider taking a knee and raising his spear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the screaming man with the sword closing in. With this strange surge of vitality, it looked to Will as though the men were moving sluggishly, like they were wading through snow.

Drawing his sword, he swatted aside the swordsman's lunge. His opponent followed up with a cross slash that Will also blocked. Reaching out, he caught his opponent's sword arm by the wrist and smacked him across the jaw with the hilt of his saber, hearing a crunch as the man's jaw broke. As he fell, Will put the tip of his sword through the man's eye, feeling another surge hit him.

Reveling in his incredible power, he advanced on the unhorsed spear-man, who still knelt, one leg clearly injured. He thrust at Will with the spear, and Will sidestepped it, and bracing the shaft of the spear under his armpit tightly. Then he turned sharply, and it broke like a twig. Panic filled the spearman's eyes. Knelt as he was, Will's kick took him in the face. Yet more blood flew from the inhuman strength of the blow.

Will felt incredible. With the boosts in strength and speed he'd gotten from his kills, he had defeated three men as though they were little but floundering children. He could never have done that on his own. If he'd had this kind of power before, the mutineers wouldn't have stood a chance...

 

[Dogmatic99]

The past few days had been far better than Maggy had ever anticipated. Her old fears about what the shroud killers might try and do to her in the night had quickly begun to fade as it seemed that none of them had any strange intentions towards her. They seemed far more interested in feeding her up and showing her the kind of exercises that could only make Maggy stronger and faster given time. The exact opposite to what she'd think someone would do if they planned to entrap her. Unless they thought to try and make Maggy feel like she owed them, but they'd have another thing coming there! Especially now that her new god had made her so strong.

What she'd seen the night of the ritual had still haunted her dreams. When things got quiet it was as if Maggy could still hear the sea. Though living by the water all her life didn't make this strange but now, after what had happened, it seemed to take on a new meaning. Besides, she shouldn't have heard it here, should she? Maybe Maggy was just going mad, or more mad. That didn't matter to her now though, this was the closest thing to content Maggy had felt in a long time. So if this was madness then let it come.

Training had begun quickly though. It wasn't all comfortable nights and full bellies. When the time had come to first show Maggy how she had been changed she'd been terrified. They had been so calm and clear about it, no one had tried to surprise her and they'd only had to hold her arm in place when she'd kept kept trying to pull away. How couldn't she though? This was the torture she'd been so afraid of, this was the bloody chamber all over again! She'd had to accept her death once already, getting kicked to the floor and made to feel more powerless than any creature could as strangers tried to violate her flesh only for the old man to come along with all his promises and pick her up and dust her off, to make her feel clean again.

Weathering the pain of their blades had made it feel as if the whole ordeal had meant nothing. It was only as the pain began to subside and they forced Maggy to look upon her fresh wounds that she saw what had happened. They had looked so clean and crisp, not a drop of blood spilled. Only water, cleaner and clearer than any Maggy had ever seen beyond the ocean. It felt as if her very skin had rushed and wavered as bit by tingling bit it had closed in to meet itself, sealing itself shut and leaving only some faint moisture in its wake.

That hadn't made the training that followed much easier though. "I know it hurts still, but just concentrate and try not to flinch too much. Easier said than done.

Maggy kept her eyes locked on her trainer, waiting anxiously for the blade to come for her yet again. Behind the advancing assassin the others were hard at work as well. They all seemed to be doing such proper things, like monks or soliders in their yards. she wondered what gifts they'd been given. Oh, and if you lose a finger, don't dwell on it. Your body isn't used to your ability yet, so trying too hard to re-attach something that has been severed is more likely to impede you than it actually is to help. Let it flow naturally."

'Wait what?'

"Aaaaggh!" Maggy screamed out as the dagger pierced her shoulder, driving her to her knees in a ragged blue heap, the tattered edges of her new cloak swirling around her like ripples in the pond. Maggy clutched at the wound, gritting her teeth and sucking in air greedily. She looked a pathetic mess compared to the other recruits.

All she had to do was to keep going. Endure as she had before and this power would be her own. Soon she'd never have to fear any blade ever again.

 

[Ruedyn]

"Ow, ow, ow!"

"Come on, you can do better than that."

Giles felt his wrist get released, picking himself back up. He was used to tough teachers, but none of them actually controlled what he could eat or where he could sleep. Or how broke his wrist could get in a half a second. Still, being able to do the sort of weird supernatural shit Giles had access to made it all worth it. He knew the others could do a couple of the same tricks as him, though he liked practicing his teleporting outside of group training. It wasn't quite as reliable as he'd like, what with a few... outside things. Or the lack of outside things. Still, he was getting better at actually keeping food down, and pains that weren't Poppy related were starting to die down.

"There's no use in controlling others if you can't keep control of yourself."

Giles looked up, right he was here. 'Can't let the mind wander too much.' He was shivering too, but he wasn't sure if that ever fucking stopped. Giles rubbed his eyes and shook his head, time for try two. He entered the same position- the one that made him feel like a dipshit- scanning the girl for her movements. She had the same powers, so she must've had some subtle trick or movement to make herself better. Just had to use the trained eye of a master bullshitter to find it. A flick of a finger before, so that must've been it. Small and subtle, just like he was used to.

Giles focused, 'Neck snapping back would break concentration, hopefully, then she'll be easy pickings...' Giles frowned realizing how bad that sounded in his head as he flicked his middle finger up, trying to enact a plan using an ability he had no idea how to use.

 

[Daystar Clarion]

Spoiler: Toons to fight by

It had been three days, and in that time young Sparrow had been figuring out what exactly it was she was now capable of. The results were beyond anything she could have ever imagined. Not just that, but she had the first real bath she'd gotten in a long time, as well as stuffing her face with the same amazing food she had tasted on her first visit to the sanctuary. Her hair and skin was clean, her belly was full, she'd even put on a few pounds, or at least she thought she had.

"Hit me, if you can."

Darius stood before her now, a man she had grown quite fond of very quickly. He had attended her education with the kind of attentiveness she didn't think possible, in her experience at least. Now he was beckoning her to strike him, like it was something the man hadn't even entertained as likely to happen.

And she believed him too.

Regardless, that would not stop her from trying, especially not now she had a few new tricks up her sleeve. Without saying a word, the young girl pulled up her hood and took a deep breath. Hands held loosely by her side, Sparrow snapped her fingers. Two pillars of smoke erupted either side of her, thick black smoke, like the shadows themselves had take gaseous form. From their depths appeared two figures, both wearing the exact same robes as Sparrow, both with the same face, both with the same little smile and glint in their eye.

In perfect synchronisation, the three Sparrows darted forward as one, rapidly closing the gap towards Darius, before splitting off from each other, one of them veering to left, and one to the right, as the Sparrow in the centre stayed her course.

Darius grinned. His protégé was making incredible progress already, both in terms of her abilities, and her more general well-being. He'd seen it in her the moment he'd first laid eyes of her from afar, as she had led that thug of a boy and his cronies on a chase over the ramshackle rooftops of the Drowned District... The grit, the will to survive and outmatch her adversaries, great and small. Even with his eye for talent, Sparrow was exceeding all of Darius' expectations.

Still, it would take far more than a triple-pronged attack to land a blow on him.

Placing both hands behind his back, Darius ducked and weaved as the flurry of fists closed in on him. Step by step, he retreated, all the while twisting in and out of blows, the air being pushed aside by Sparrow's many fists fanning his face. As this went on, the aura of energy that surrounded Darius seemed to grow more potent, as if his opponent's combined exertions were feeding him energy.

At some sudden point, when he had decided that enough was enough, Darius' left arm snapped up, to block a right hook aimed squarely at his face. This single movement was a blur, he was so fast, and the Sparrow who had attempted to strike him suddenly found her whole arm going numb from the force, far greater than any normal parry. Not stopping there, Darius leapt high into the air, pirouetting over all three heads in a whirl of grey fabric, landing on the other side of the wall of assault that had been threatening to envelop him. Before the Sparrow's could turn and mount another attack, he swept his leg around in a roundhouse kick. Though he was now standing more than six feet away from them, and struck only air, the sheer power that radiated out of his movements sent all three Sparrow's sprawling, flat on their backs.

"Good." Darius said, encouraging her, striding over to help one Sparrow too her feet. "Very good. Again."

The other two Sparrow's brushed themselves down as they got to their feet. "That was amazing." The Sparrow Darius had helped cooed. Stepping back, she snapped her fingers, another two Sparrows appearing next to her, each of them snapping their own fingers and brought two more into being. The girl had been testing the limits of her powers, how many of herself she could duplicate. The more she made, the wider her view of the situation became.

There was no 'true' Sparrow, every single one of them were her, all connected, sharing one soul, without diminishing it. None of them could see through the eyes of another, but they were acutely aware of what each other were experiencing, an unspoken network that communicated exactly what each individual was doing at a base level.

Any one person fighting off seven individuals was impressive to say the least. A person that could defend themselves against seven individuals who could communicate and synchronise each other's movements in an instant was a feat to behold.

As the Sparrow's took up the same fighting stance, each of them bounded towards Darius, weaving by each other, creating a disorientating barrage of attacks that any normal person would find difficult to keep track of, let alone defend against.

Darius was not normal, however.

Deftly twisting around the first one to reach him, Darius grabbed Sparrow by the shoulder and back of the knee, spinning her off her feet in an almost comical somersault, before he landed on her stomach. Staying low, he slithered through the line of attackers, emerging unscathed on the other side with a bark of laughter. The next Sparrow to turn was checked; once, twice, before being flung around by her arm, and launched bodily into two of her doppelgangers.

Even with no weapons, Sparrow would likely have many bruises to contend with before the session was over, no matter which body remained.

Three left, and they all moved quickly to encircle him, as others from before got to disentangling themselves so they could re-join the fight. The Sparrow at his rear lashed out with a vicious kick, that Darius blocked with his own leg, before wrapping it around her knee, and hooking her in place with his foot. Even balancing on one leg, Darius used his arms to check the combined attack of the other two, before pushing them back with finger jabs to the diaphragm. Taking advantage of the small window, Darius turned, and used the entrapped Sparrow as a springboard, launching himself into the air once more. So full of energy he was, that he appeared the hang briefly at the apex of his height, robes billowing around him, before he struck the ground one his descent, creating a shockwave which took the wind out of all the Sparrows once more.

"Had I been a Watchman at the end of a nine-hour guard duty, you might have had me there..." Darius jested, but with a friendly smile all the same. "You co-ordinate well, but you need to do better in blocking out distractions. When I strike one of you, the rest are all dazed for a split second, even if you don't feel the pain. One more time..."

Each of the Sparrows winced at the injuries they had. Darius was right. Why each of them only had their own aches and pains to worry about, they were still aware that the others where in pain also. It was a strange and distracting sensation.

Each of the Sparrow reached into their robes. Suddenly all but one of them poofed out of existence, each of their exits marked by a billow of smoke. The one remaining Sparrow pulled a rather large coin from a pocket inside her robes. This was the original Sparrow. The Sparrow who existed before she had gotten her powers. And while it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, the girl didn't like the idea of her original body being evaporated into nothing. It was sometimes difficult to keep track of herself, so the coin was only carried by the original Sparrow.

Simply overwhelming Darius with numbers wasn't going to work, if she was going to land a hit on him, she'd need to fight smarter, not harder. Snapping in two Sparrows, the girls furrowed their brows as they looked at the man. Together, the three dashed forward towards her mentor, each of them prepared to aim blows at different angle. Each of them feinted, instead creating another three Sparrows, two of them using their nearest Sparrows as a springboard, leaping over Darius, another two Sparrows appeared overheard, landing either side as they both turned to sweep the man's legs, the remaining Sparrows each aiming at higher points on the man.

'Oh, she's good!'

As the fight grew more intense, Darius became a grey wind, near untouchable as he leapt and spun through the gaps of the ever-growing multitude of Sparrows, countering whenever he found the slighted opening. He felled his opponent in her dozens, however, he noticed that she was learning fast not to let his strikes wrong foot her. For every blow he landed, the Sparrow he landed it on would vanish into smoke a second later, getting rid of the distraction and allowing Sparrow to constantly replenish her numbers, keeping up the pressure on Darius.

The only way to stop her would be to find her 'true' body, the one form she would be reluctant to part with. It would be the ***** in her armour.

Sweeping three Sparrows at a time off their feet with an arm strike at knee height, Darius searched for a minute, but tall-tale sing among the crowd...

'There!'

As one Sparrow wheeled away, to let two more come at him, her robes fell open just slightly. While Darius never saw the coin, he caught in the midst of all the chaos the subtle stress on the fabric of her pocket, telling of added weight. Dropping the two that came to meet him, Darius made a beeline for the 'true' Sparrow, striking out at the belly of another who threw herself in the way at the last moment. Only his fist met only smoke...

The Sparrow had evaporated just before his strike had landed this time, and for a split second, Darius' view was clouded by the black shadow that hovered in her wake. That is, until a fist came streaking through the darkness, and clocked him right on the nose, sending him stumbling back in a daze. For a child, Sparrow could hit quite hard.

"That's enough! That's enough..." he cried out, before all the Sparrow's could mob him. Even so, he was laughing. The girl was extraordinary! It had been a long time since anyone had been able to sock him one like that (even if he had been going a little easy on them).

Dusting himself off, Darius looked to the one Sparrow who now remained, flipping her coin and catching it again, with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"There's no way you did that on purpose." he said, folding his arms and grinning ever more broadly at her.

Sparrow's smirk widened into a grin as she snatched the coin out of the air. "You were goin' easy on me." She took a step towards the man, pulling down her hood before stuffing her hands into her pockets. "I just got lucky is all." She smiled as she brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. Despite the fight not being that long, the girl was starting to feel the cost of her powers. "I don't think I coulda gone much longer, it really takes it outta me." Sparrow chuckled.

"You'll get used to it." Darius reassured her, squatting down and placing his hands on her shoulders, his green eyes shining proudly. "I remember when I first started training... In a fight, I'd move faster than a sea squall, feeling more alive than I'd ever felt in my life, as the energy of everything a touched, even the air that enveloped me, fed me its power... only afterwards, I'd barely have the strength to stand all day! Your soul has accepted the contract, and become more powerful than nature ever intended it to be. Your body, however, needs time and diligent practice to adapt fully to its gifts."

Sparrow's eyes met Darius', her cheeks reddening slightly. "It's amazin', it's like..." The girl furrowed her brow as she searched for the right words. "I can't describe it, to be everywhere at once, to see everythin' from several angles, I dunno how my head keeps up with it all, it just does." The girl looked back up at Darius. "I'll keep practicin', I'll keep getting better, I won't let you down."

"You're already far more advanced at this stage than I could have hoped for." Darius said happily "Of course, that just means I'll have to work doubly hard to keep you on your toes!"

After giving her an affectionate little nudge (he had to be very careful, for he was still full of energy), his face took on a more concerned look.

"How's your mother? I take it you went to visit her yesterday..."

Sparrow nodded. "I'm still there." She said with a small smile. "At the moment, she's makin' some soup." She wrinkled her nose. "I don' really like my mum's cookin', especially since the food is so amazing down 'ere." She grinned. "I took my old clothes with me, couldn't show up lookin' like this." She nodded down at her robes. Nobody had warned her that her doppelgangers only duplicated her robes, most likely due to the magical nature of the clothing. She had been wearing her old clothes when she made a copy, only for the copy to be completely naked. Thankfully she was the only person in the room at the time.

"She's keeps telling me how glad she is that I'm spendin' more time at 'ome." Sparrow's eyes softened, as she raised a hand to her cheek. "She... just kissed me." The girl blushed.

"That's good." Darius replied. "Family is a rare and precious thing on the surface these days, not that I'm sure things were ever really that much better, deep down. Just, less noticeably worse... Anyway, just make sure this takes the time to see her every now and again. I know that no one Sparrow is the real Sparrow, but you're the one she birthed and cared for. That means something."

For a moment, Darius' sharp, cunning eyes seemed to soften. There was sadness there.

"Do you think you'll ever tell her?" he asked "You've had the lecture on the dangers already, I know, and every word of it is true, but still... will it be enough for you to always be pretending?"

"I dunno." The girl bit her bottom lip as she though on the man's words. "I think so." She nodded her head. "I want to get her out of that place, somewhere better, eventually I'm gonna have a hard time explainin' how exactly I got enough money to do that." She chuckled nervously. "She'd understand, right? I mean, we only have each other." She shrugged her shoulders, her face softening sadly. "I hope she understands, I dunno what I'd do without her." A few moments passed before a small chuckle escaped her lips. "She just asked me why I look so miserable."

Glancing around, the huge room, Sparrow looked back up at Darius. "I wonder 'ow the others are doing." She sounded more curious than concerned. "I'm still not sure what some of them can do."

 

[Rufio's Ghost]

'It's absolutely absurd.'

Langston sat on the ground next to Tammy, bronze clock in hand. Peering out from under his hood, he kept his gaze fixed on the purposeless pillars that were haphazardly scattered about the hall. He understood that the whole structure was some 'magic' creation that was not dictated by any logic, but that didn't mean it had to look like it defied all reason. Making the design senseless accomplished nothing. It just made the creator look like a daft fool... so why? Disgruntled, the boy huffed out through his nose. He felt like he could ask that question of everything the Shroud did and still never get a proper answer.

"Is time going as slowly for you as it is for me right now?"

He kept his eyes on the stupid pillar, still lost in thought, "That doesn't make sense..." He cocked his head, eyes still glued to the pillar, "Time always moves at the same rate for you."

After a short pause Langston realized that he was having a conversation with his mentor, and that she was staring skeptically at the side of his face. That's right- they were suppose to be training and he'd just spent the past 10-ish minutes silently critiquing the structure's architecture... but she didn't have to know that.

"Urmm, but yes. It-it was just moving pretty slowly a moment ago." He corrected, fumbling with both his lie and the hood of his cloak as he turned to face Tammy. His eyes darted away as he added, "Well- for me at least."

Offering a weak smile, he continued with an even weaker laugh, "Was counting 10 seconds for every one of yours."

He didn't want to lie to her... but, at the same time, he didn't want alter the flow of time. Mylaviss was clearly mad- why else would he give Langston, of all people, such a powerful ability. Surely he'd find a way to fuck it up, and if he didn't break time space right now he certainly would later.

 

[EnigmaticSevens]

This was a precious thing, the gift of the Fatherly Fire, it must not be taken for granted. How many times had that mantra slithered through Ezrah's mind these last three days? Hard to say, really, but it had helped in the beginning, helped drown out the other voice, the anguished one that cried out and wondered if the boy had traded his soul away to play the role of glorified fucking bait. It was a dirty, tricksy sort of thought, one that sapped the will and the strength, and before the marking, before his acceptance into this mad new world, Ezrah would've made every attempt to banish it, to exorcise it entirely. But that would not do. Perhaps the greatest gift born of Mylaviss' marking was a shift in... perspective, a brutal sort of self-honesty, and that honesty was a power in and of itself. Ezrah let the feelings run their course. He'd seen... amazing things of his peers and their mentors over these last couple of days, hungry eyes glistening at staggering displays of martial ability, at queer powers that warped the very fabric of reality.... At first he'd coveted, and at length he'd despaired. He'd felt... diminished, hollow, ever wondering how a lure could possibly match the glory of the jaws of the trap. The burning, sickly, jealous hunger lay coiled up in the pit of Ezrah's belly, festering there until he found a way to use it, and use it he would, because he remembered....

...in Hunger, in Desire, you shall know strength.

Brutus, the man behind the hand and skull that had led them all to this madness in the first place, set a box of sewer rats down between them, baiting them with fresh cut meat. The task at hand seemed clear enough. Ezrah offered the man one long gaze as he spoke, sucking up the words greedily, letting the need and want of them well up in his breast, as though each syllable and utterance held some great mystic import. The rational portion of Ezrah's mind quipped rather coyly at such fanaticism, but he kept it well submerged, letting the other feelings take the forefront, knowing he'd need them for what came next.

A point of reference.

The boy's dark gaze turned to the box of blind rats, scrambling atop one another, piled up at one end trying to get at the tasty morsel Brutus dangled over their heads. Sound and smell ruled such creatures, smell most of all in this case, but smell would not be enough. One had to look beyond the sense, beyond into the raw, twitching nerve it tied into. Ezrah knew rats, and while these things were not quite as bent and broken as their warped cousins, their... desires proved similar enough, and easy enough to unravel. The coiled, ever hungry, want in Ezrah's belly seemed a living thing, and now it rose, an invisible, ethereal viper slithering out from between his teeth as he squatted over the box and dropping in amongst the rats and coiling about one in particular, the largest of its brethren. Ezrah watched the fur along the beady-eyed beast's back bristle and knew he had him.

Now the hard part.

The first push always seemed the most difficult, picking a spot of air on the opposite end of the box and making it... irresistible, needed first and foremost, cherished and coveted above all else. It left no touchstone, no physical reference, and Ezrah felt a fine sheen of sweat prickle his forehead and damp the rusty brown hair that strayed there. Deeper and deeper he bound rat to air, deeper and deeper, past the smell, past the sound, past the taste, into the nerve, into the nerve, into that throbbing, twitching thing that lingered at the edge of sanity, into the irrational. Ezrah found it, the little kernel of mad lust, beating rapidly, not a heartbeat really, more a primal tattoo of feed, fight, and fuck. Ezrah tapped his foot in time to the beat.

The big rat bolted out of the pile of its compatriots, scrabbling desperately across the wooden planks of the box and hurtling itself at the spot Ezrah had called it to, writhing, squirming and snapping furiously at the spot that should be within its grasp yet remained ever intangible, just out of reach. Ezrah watched the wriggling creature for a long moment, loosing the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The thing within in him, the source of all this, seemed to well up now, to surge like something let loose and now rushing downhill, the hole in his soul that lead to the other side, to the place that was so much more, dilating.

Spoiler: Ezrah began to hum.

A low, soft, stuttering melody that wove it's way around the frantic beating at the rat's core... and amplified it. A quick, sharp, electric jolt washed through the air about the box, raising the hairs on Ezrah's arms and the nape of his neck, the memory of the hackles he no longer had. The squirming mass of rats on the opposite end of the box froze at once, bodies stiffening almost painfully as they caught the beat like a plague. Almost in unison, their heads turned towards Ezrah's end of the box, focused intently not on the box itself or some random spot of air, but rather on their besotted brother rat. They swarmed. For one long, wretched instant, a horrific, shrill screaming sound issued forth from the box, loud enough to drown out the sound of Ezrah's humming and tapping, the sound of little teeth biting, of little claws reaching, needing, wanting, all in a maddening crush of ecstasy. The sound cut off abruptly, but box still shook with the mad thrashing of the rats, hurtling themselves against a gory smear, all that remained of their brother, yet still just as maddening, just as necessary, snapping and clawing at one another so long as it meant one more sniff. Ezrah watched the bloody play, dark eyes brooding, full of something odd, not cruelty, not even curiosity, merely a searing intensity, breaking down the scene at hand, studying it, examining it, committing the small scale horror to memory.

Ezrah's gaze flickered back up to Brutus as he rose to his feet, one eyebrow cocked slightly. Gone was the look of worshipful devotion and hunger, it had served its purpose as catalyst. Now all that remained was the usual wary, analytic skepticism, waiting for critique or for further challenge.

 

[Terratina.]

"Catch the light. Use it to blind your enemy before he blinds you."

As soon as he was finished, Sigmund wasted no time with throwing the lit flash bomb over. The sad thing was the hard part of the exercise was not using the ability; Skylar had to stand firm and not cower before the light, she had to capture it before it overwhelmed her senses. How typical it was to receive a power that just aided hiding. She'd scurried to and fro for far too long and joining the Shroud was supposed to alleviate that. However, no point complaining about it - the deal had been struck already. Best to focus on the present, and in particular, the flash of light that would come her way.

As the bomb's fuse grew shorter and shorter, Skylar mentally prepared herself for the moment of explosion. 'Snuff it out like you did with the torches.' She told herself. However, that hardly made her any less anxious; the hissing wasn't helping any either. At least it would stop. It did so with a bang, Skylar forced her eyes to stay opened as the flash bomb unleash its light on her. The young girl desperately resisted all urges to pull her head away from it, instead, she willed inwards. She stared blankly as the split second flash was swallowed up by... her? It still didn't feel real, even with her induction complete.

Now it was time for the second step, however, Skylar was stumped, umming and ahing like an idiot. It just wouldn't work.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

Sigmund waited a few seconds, before sighing and folding his arms.

"You still refuse to believe you can do it, and thus your control is limited." He told her "Don't just mask your fear, use it, master it. For years, you ran from the light in search of whatever shadow might cloak you. Now, the shadows and the light bend to your will. Again."

He lit another flash bomb and threw it at her feet, before immediately drawing out and preparing to light another.

"This time, I won't stop until you make me stop." He said, throwing the third bomb her way.

===========================================================================================================================

Brutus cracked a smile at the sight of the rats frantically devouring their own, before eventually chucking the steak on the floor, with a pulpy thwack The still-ensnared rats all turned towards the sound of the noise, before scurrying out of the box and across the floor the the steak, where they set upon it greedily, Ezrah's spell now broken.

"Not exactly what I was expecting, but impressive." Brutus remarked with amusement. "It's nowhere near the same as baiting another human, but you might soon be ready to start on cats."

===========================================================================================================================

"Was counting 10 seconds for every one of yours."

Tammy smiled sadly at him, seeing right through the lie.

"Langston..." she said, putting a supportive hand on his shoulder. "You've been given an incredible power, it's okay to be a little apprehensive; but, if you don't want your gifts to overwhelm you, you need to work at them."

=========================================================================================================================

The muscles in Poppy's neck tightened in resistance, as an invisible hand attempted to force her to bend over backward. It was a strong hand, and Poppy felt her spine curving as the power overcame her body, inch by inch.

"Ooh, very good!" she cooed, before she broke Giles' hold with a swipe of her finger, made him pirouette on the spot, and kick himself in the face so hard he almost back-flipped. Tittering at the crumpled heap on the floor, Poppy flourished her wrist, and hoisted Giles to his feet.

"You have skill, but your will is weak." She told him "You're too used to sacrificing control for the sake of temporary sensation."

=========================================================================================================================

Cecilia tutted as Maggie was felled so easily.

"Don't try to heal yourself." she said "That's not how it works. Instead, make yourself believe that you were never hurt at all. Your body cannot ignore wounds if your mind refuses to."

=========================================================================================================================

"Are you going to taste it yourself?"

"Nothing so dramatic." Olegg answered, smiling.

"Did it work?"

Silently, Olegg reached into his robes, and produced several small bottled full of different coloured liquids. Squatting down in front of the goblet, he unscrewed the cap and drew the pipette out of the first and added a single drop into the goblets contents. There was a hissing sound, and the liquid instantly turned a deep, unctuous purple. A drop from a different bottle, and it went blazing orange. Olegg went on like this fro a few minutes, muttering under his breath all the while.

"Well..." he announced, eventually. "That's kill a man after, maybe, two days. Unless he was given a very specific concoction of rare medicinal herbs." He looked back at the goblet, it's contents now pea green and steaming, and sucked in his breath. "They'd be coughing up their lungs and shitting out their bowels by the end, not a pretty way to go. The only fatal flaw, however, is that if they'd had the sense to smell it before they took a sip, they'd have known something was off."

He scratched his chin as he studied the goblet one last time, before turning back to her.

"Good work. We've got a long way to go, but you've almost got a handle on the basics."

=========================================================================================================================

Arnold made several appreciative noises, as he studied the image Andra had projected before him, only grimacing a little when he saw round the back. When he reached the front again, he held out his finger and poked the false Arnold on the shoulder. As his finger went through robes and skin that weren't really there, the details of the image began to dissolve into swirls of colour, but solidified after a couple of seconds.

"Well, it's a more flattering portrait than I've seen before." he concluded with a chuckle. "Well done, you can relax now."

 

[The Funslinger]

Spoiler: Music

Inside the fantasy she had created for Will, Minerva needn't take any physical form. However, she saw everything, attuned to his consciousness. She saw how he moved as he cut down the first imaginary morsels that she had sent his way; and, although she did not possess his ability, she felt the rush coursing through him already. It was no small sensation.

"Gooood." she crooned, her voice echoing around in the squall of Will's mind "We can do better than that though, can't we?"

More shapes began to emerge out of the fog and driving rain. Over a dozen men, screaming and frothing at the mouth as they brandished swords, axes, clubs and pitchforks. Some were afoot, some were on horse back. To make things a little more interesting, the human attackers were joined by a pack of rabid, salivating hounds, wild eyes gleaming out of scarred, patched coats, their ears thrown back as they outstripped all the others and bounded towards Will.

Amid the surge of bloodlust, some part far at the back of Will's mind vaguely registered that there were a lot of bloody people coming at him right now.

But he didn't hesitate. As the first hound leaped at him, he lashed out with his free hand and caught it by the throat. There was a crunch as the beast fell dead and twitching at his feet. The next lost its head to his sword. The beasts were wary now as they circled him, coming forward in twos and threes. With each one that fell, Will's power increased, and he swatted them aside with increasing ease.

The men were upon him now, their movements slow to Will's eyes. As two men with hatchets set upon him, the first man's neck barely faltered the arc of Will's blade, and it carried on through, decapitating the second. A man wielding a sword lunged at his ribs. Will parried the blade with lazy ease before caving the illusion's chest with his fist. Catching the sword as it fell, he whirled to face the oncoming mob and the remnants of the pack, glorying in the power surging through him. What followed was a slaughter, as blood and guts flew.

The final few surged at him with their weapons, and Will melted away, rematerializing behind behind them and hacking them to ribbons with his blades. Dropping the borrowed sword, he turned to see the last of the dogs preparing to pounce. As it jumped through the air, he drew his remaining pistol and fired.

"Ooooh very good! Very very good!" Minerva's voice called out, accompanied by her frantic applause. "Now, let's try something a little less... conventional."

Minerva's applause began to sound less like clapping and more like some sort of... clicking. The sound also seemed to now be coming from directly behind Will. Turning, he found himself face to face with quite possibly the ugliest visage anyone could conjure. Many black, glassy eyes stared at Will out of a head covered in coarse, brown hairs. The head itself appeared tiny, when squashed up against a massive, bulbous abdomen. However, the pincers that clicked together, a few feat from Will's face, were the size of butcher's knives.

"Impressive, isn't he?" Minerva teased, as the spider inched to the floor, righting itself (for it had been hanging upside down from a strand of silk as thick as rope), before it landed on eight legs that were longer than any spears that had ever come bearing down on Will. "Still, I think we need to make this more challenging..."

The skies blacked even beyond the thunder clouds, as suddenly what looked like a hundred crows descended on Will from above, screeching at the tries to tear at him with long, pointed beaks and vicious talons, as the bull-sized spider reared, ready to lunge.

"Well then..." Will murmured. He wished he had more firepower to bring some of the crows. But he didn't, and despite appearing from so far away, they reached him first. Giving up ground, he backed up, slashing the first few out of the air as they reached him, adding their small rivulets of power to his own. But there were too many. A lot of the beaks bounced off of the scalemail running under his coat, but others went for his eyes and limbs. Putting up an arm to ward them off, swiping them out of the air with his sabre, Will saw the spider coming out of the corner of his eye. Ducking and rolling to avoid the pincers, he came back up on his feet with a hatchet in his left hand, and buried it in the spider's rotund body. It gave a growling, inarticulate hiss of rage and skuttled to face him. Wincing at the beak cuts on his forearm, Will continued cutting down crows and shielding his face, while trying to watch the monster before him.

It charged once more, and Will leaped up, the power coursing through his legs carrying him high into the air. Landing on the spider's back, he stood, fighting to keep his balance on the back of the spider now raging to knock him off. Still slicing crows from the air. He had to find some way to deal with the spider, so he could turn his full attention to that cursed flock of birds. Turning, he set about the spider with his sword, and two legs on its right side fell away. But more birds were closing in now, a dense patch of almost pure black coming forward to dice him to shreds. As the cloud of razor beaks was upon him, Will teleported, reappearing underneath the spider as the crows scored its back and pecked at its eyes. Getting himself right footed, Will put his hands on the spider's disgusting underbelly and pushed.

As incredibly powered up as he was, the spider, missing two of its legs, was in no position to stop him heaving it upwards, and onto its back, sending birds scattering every which way.

Will took power from the deaths of the crows, but without the larger injections of energy from the humans and dogs, he was beginning to feel a strange strain deep within himself. Still, he fought on, nourishing himself by lashing the carrion birds down with his sword. If not for his armour, he was sure his torso would be a mess of scratches and punctures by now. As it was, his sleeves were shredded and matted with blood. Only due diligence spared his face the same fate.

As the flock began to thin, he turned back to the spider, which was struggling to right itself, with jets of thick, dark blood gushing from the stumps of its lost legs. Amputating the rest of its limbs so it couldn't seize him, Will crested its belly and drove his sword straight down, hunching his shoulders against the remaining birds. The spider jerked mightily, and then died. The incredible blast of power that coursed through Will with its death was almost overwhelming. For a moment, everything around him seemed to stand still.

A lesser man would have been unable to draw the sword back out of the beast's belly, but Will managed it with minimal effort, picking down the remaining crows low enough to hit like they were straw dummies.

At last, he stood alone, panting with exertion, but alive with burning energy. Pulling back his mangled sleeves, he held his arms up to the torrential downpour, letting the rain cleanse his wounds. His hat had come off during the frey, and he picked it up, emptying the blood mingled water from it, and setting it back on his head.

"Mmmmmmmhhhh! Alright then, one final round. Let's see how you handle this..."

She clapped her hands, and the already raging storm seemed to intensify tenfold. Will was now standing in the middle of an ocean, crashing and frothing from the winds above. His only platforms were the drifting remnants of icebergs, their surfaces barely wide enough to take a stride in each direction, and made even slipperier by the rain. That, however, was the least of Will's worries...

From the deep, the roiling waters were shattered by the emergence of a colossal Hydra, roaring and snarling, as three heads, three pairs of eyes, three jaws full of giant, jagged teeth, all took note of their meagre prey.

"Let's see you try and kill this one!" Minerva yelled with delight.

As the huge leviathan towered over Will, he gazed up at it in awe. "Denissa's tits..." he muttered. And then it crashed down upon him.

It was only the inhuman speed lent to him by the men and beasts he'd slain that saved him. Fading back into being atop the hydra's back, he lashed out, his blade taking one of the three heads. Drops of blood hit the wave, causing huge gales of steam as the boiling liquid evaporated the water. Where it struck ice, deep indents appeared, bubbling over.

Before Will's eyes, two more heads sprouted. It was a process so indescribable, he'd never be able to adequately share it with another person, lacking an ability such as Minerva's.

The beast flailed under him, and the heads reared around to snap at him. Backpedaling, he skidded down the hydra's scaly hide, and kicked off. Overshooting, he sailed over the patch of ice that was his only stable ground, his hand skimming the edge as he hit the water and sank beneath the raging waves.

The hydra gave chase, nearly swallowing Will whole before he was able to teleport to safety. The hydra exploded back out of the water, one of its heads smashing into him and bucking him into the air. What could he possibly do? Whenever he severed a head, it regrew, and then there was its molten blood to contend with.

But... perhaps that was his answer!

Seizing hold of the armoured dorsal fin atop one of the heads, Will cleaved clean through its neck before leaping to safety. Gripping the head tightly, Will was just able to land the huge thing atop the platform of ice as the hydra flailed in agony, two fresh heads sprouting from the stump.

Hefting his sword, Will jammed it hilt deep into the stump of the head he had secured, soaking it with blood to the hilt. Ripping the weapon free, he winced as the steel bubbled under the sheen of crimson, and hoped that the reality of his wounds would not extend to the state of his weapons.

Sword in hand, he teleported again as the hydra crashed down on the ice again, finally breaking it free of the rest of the berg below. With his sword soaked in red hot blood, Will manifested back atop the hydra, and began swinging like a lumberjack, heads falling into the water, every which way. The stumps bubbled as the burning blood glazed the wounds, causing steam to hiss as they were cauterized. The last head gone, the beast's body crashed down, leaving Will to scrabble for purchase on its back.

With a whoop of triumph from Minerva, the scene began to fade, and Will found himself back in the chamber, his robes still in mint condition, and the skin of his arms still pristine beneath them. His weapons too, were still polished and holstered. It would have been as if nothing had happened at all, were it not for the energy of the kill still rushing and roiling through Will's body.

Minerva was positively glowing with joy as she ran over to him, her black hair bouncing around her shoulders, and her eyes shining, before throwing her arms around his neck, and laughing exultantly.

"That was wonderful!" she cried, standing off from him again and examining him appreciatively, her hands exploring his arms and torso with enthusiasm. "You just couldn't stop killing! Of course, going easy for beginners. Everything a little slower inside your head, less painful too, and more predictable, but still! Like that part when you..." Minerva than went on to simulate against the air some of what she felt were the highlights of their display "... Your power is just so much fun!"

"How does it feel?" she asked, somewhat furtively and she sidled a little closer to him. "I can feel it too, inside here..." she tapped her skull "where you and all the other voices are, but they all get so noisy, talking over each-other, they drown each-other out. It's not fair! How it must feel for you..." she said, biting her lip as she looked him over "Crackling over your skin, coursing through you veins, so... vivid, so intimate. It must be lovely!"

Will scratched his beard thoughtfully. Outwardly, he appeared calm, but internally he wanted nothing more than to continue making use of the power surging in his veins. To move and to shatter everything in his wake.

"It's... addictive," he said. "Like there's lightning striking into my heart and surging out into my fingertips. It's not even just strength... I'm so fast. Everything around me seems so slow. Even you, I can see your hair moving as you move, like... like you're underwater."

In a dramatic change of pace, Minerva was suddenly very quiet, blushing like a teenager under Will's gaze.

"Do you... like it?" she asked, timidly.

"Ha! We've got a leak over here!" Called from across the chamber. "I think Minerva needs a towel."

"BRUTUS!" Minerva screeched, rounding on him with the most evil of evil eyes, before folding her arms tightly around her chest, and staring at the floor, thoroughly embarrassed.

Will was rendered speechless by the sudden bout of humour, and Minerva's deafening response. 'Don't laugh, she'll kill you where you stand...' He bit his lip.

When it had passed, he said quietly, "I could certainly get used to it..."

Slowly, Minerva looked up, smiling.

"Come on." She said, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the side of the room. "Let's watch the others for a bit. I can tell you what they're all thinking."

 

[Ruedyn]

"Ooh, very good!"

The feeling of pride lasted for a second, overtaken by the feeling of getting his face kicked in by himself. He realized for a brief second he had, in fact, stepped in something.

"You have skill, but your will is weak. You're too used to sacrificing control for the sake of temporary sensation."

"Urgh..." Giles wit was impeded by the fact he literally shoved his foot in his mouth. He was more fond of figurative. As he was pulled up by invisible hand and string, he realized again how hopelessly outclassed he was here. Deceit and cunning were his usual paths to victory anyways, and he was starting to get the hang of this power. Distract her and take out her hands, to stop from counter attacks.

"How was I to know a life of drugs and recklessness was a bad idea?" Giles smiled uneasily, "How long have you had this power, anyways? Didn't know Mylavy was into repeats, specially when you seem to have this skill down well..."

 

[Rufio's Ghost]

"Langston..."

Langston flinched slightly at her touch, expecting some kind of reprimand. Instead, Tammy offered a few words of wisdom and a bit of reassurance. He'd been training with Tammy for a few days now, and no matter foolish he acted or how much he blundered she was never irritated... or at least she never appeared to be. She'd laugh it off and smile, like nothing had happened at all. It was strange, and stranger still that her upbeat attitude and positive reactions almost made him feel worse.

Langston nodded a slow, apologetic nod, guilt gnawing away at him as her words sank in. He didn't want to waste his teacher's time or lie to her, and he really did want to master this power, but the task seemed so daunting, impossible even. How couldn't he be overwhelmed by his gift when he found the concept alone completely stupefying? His gaze fixed on his pocket watch, he attempted to strengthen his resolve. He had to try, he owed Tammy that much and, guilty feelings aside, she was right- he needed to work at it.

"So time won't- well it-," he stopped himself, biting down on his lip. The poor woman had already confirmed and assured him... and reassured him that time wouldn't get 'stuck,' that any alteration of time's flow was only temporary. Although he wanted to, he couldn't make his mentor repeat herself again when he'd been asking the same damn questions for 3 days straight.

After a short pause he continued, following a completely different line of thought,"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been dishonest with you." He turned towards looking out sheepishly from under his hood, "Um- Is there anything specific that you would like for me to do?"

 

[lacktheknack]

Andra released the vision, and it blinked out of existence as if it was never there. She slumped to the ground. The fatigue was still present, but not nearly as crushing as it had been the first time she made an illusion, and she regained her energy quite quickly.

After a moment, she began to absently adjust her snake necklace. The thought burst from nowhere:

I wonder if it moves?

Don't be a dolt, Andra. It's metal.

Well then... I wonder if I can make it move?

Andra looked down at the necklace and pondered the thought. It was a fairly simple design, surely it wouldn't be too taxing to make it slither a bit. Almost without her thinking about it, the necklace suddenly began to pull its tail from its mouth, but there was a strange phasing effect, as if it was moving and not moving at the same time.

The necklace is still there!

Andra imagined what her robes looked like under the necklace below her cowl, and the phasing effect stopped. The necklace finished removing its tail from its mouth and lay draped over her shoulders.

While she had never lived with snakes, a childhood friend had a defanged one as a pet. Andra was always fascinated by the graceful way it rippled along, and while the memory was faded, she still figured she could mimic that motion in her brain. So she did so, and the snake began to realistically slither down her left arm. She was surprised by how easy this was.

It's because you're replicating something small for once rather than big and practical things.

Well hey, small steps...

As the snake coiled around her lower arm, it suddenly surprised Andra.

It hissed.

None of her illusions had been auditory before.

Suddenly, something clicked in her brain. Almost beyond her control, she began imagining what the snake would want from life - a mouse for food. Instantly, there was a dead mouse by Andra. The snake uncoiled slightly from Andra's arm, unbidden, and attacked the mouse's corpse. Now, where did snakes live? Andra recalled reading about snakes once - they lived all over, but the swamp snakes stuck out. Suddenly, a small slough, about two feet across, appeared before Andra, with a knotted and tiny tree rooted beside it. The snake dropped off her arm, crawled up the tree's nooks and crannies and wound itself around the largest branch.

This was hardly a real swamp though. Real swamps had moss - moss appeared - and they have marsh-grasses - marsh-grass appeared - and there's insects - crickets began to chirp.

Andra didn't understand what was happening. Like a manic lucid dream, the illusion was constructing itself out of her mind as fast as she could imagine it. Snakes live with other snakes! MORE snakes appeared on the tree! Swamps have mud underlying everything! The floor turned to mud around the watery slough! Swamps had flies everywhere! Flies appeared! Swamps smelled wet and organic! The scent of soaked earth permeated the air!

Swamps aren't this small!

The swamp suddenly began to expand. Puddles of stagnant water began to dot the floor around Andra and Arnold, each one looking weirder and less real than the last. Andra, in a flash of inspiration, realized what was happening - the swamp was expanding faster than her mind could properly comprehend it, so it was missing and losing details as it grew.

NO!

Andra tried to stop thinking. No more thoughts about the swamp! No more flies! No more tree! No more snakes! She clamped down on her thoughts, imagining empty air.

Something clicked off in her brain, the state of mind that had allowed for this sudden explosion of illusions to be borne from almost nothing. The swamp flickered and vanished, as if it had never been there.

Andra stood, paralyzed with confused adrenaline for a moment, before suddenly crossing her eyes, rocking slightly, then passing right out on the floor. She had withdrawn far too much energy to attempt an illusion that big. She lay on the now-empty floor, her snake necklace unperturbed and still.

 

[Dogmatic99]

"That's not how it works. Instead, make yourself believe that you were never hurt at all. Your body cannot ignore wounds if your mind refuses to."

"Easier said than done." Maggy grumbled as she struggled to her feet, rubbing at the fresh wound as her body worked its new magic. At a slower pace than she'd have liked but still it was there. Were this any time before the ritual Maggy probably would have been left bleeding until she was dry or left to watch the scar go black and green and poison her from the inside out.

How was she supposed make herself think she wasn't getting hurt when all she could do was stand there and watch as Cecilia cut at her like a cat at a fresh pair of curtains? From what little she'd seen of all the others they were being taught how to actually do things. Fighting or strange magics of their own. Was Maggy's place in this order to be some glorified punching bag?

Not that she could say any of this to her teacher though. She was still all too new to The Shroud, and now she owed them. All the food, a place to sleep and the magic. She had to do as they said and wait to learn more of the things they'd show her. She had sold half her soul after all, may as well stick around and get her soul's worth.

"I'm ready..."

So for now, Maggy braced herself for the next assault and stirred the brewing anger in her chest as she looked around the training room, catching glimpses of much more interesting looking scenes of assassins at work. where had so many of them learned to fight like that and where could she?

 

[Terratina.]

"This time, I won't stop until you make me stop."

Skylar nodded. This was stupid anyway, how would a scared girl become a hardened assassin. Apparently repeated exposure to flash bombs, though they would just leave Skylar a little disorientated.

The third of those annoying things was thrown. It flew, it soar, it hissed and exploded.

There was no flash of light to accompany the bang, Skylar could at least do that part right. The problem was blasting back the light at Sigmund. Apart from training, there was little reason to do so, there was no threat.

Well, apart from getting a bit dazed from a bit of light.

Her mentor had gone on about her fear, about using it. Skylar thought back to her vision, the crippling fear she had felt, the creeping terror of being hunted... Yes... Sigmund was the hunter now.

She blinked, or at least tried to as light blazed out from them.

 

[Fappy]

Selena watched anxiously as Olegg ran a series of tests on the poison. Until now, he'd always sampled it privately, so she never knew exactly how he got his results. She should have figured it was something like this. Though it appeared to be a simple task, she knew it was anything but. Alchemy was not an art many could grasp.

"Well..."

He let that hang in the air for a bit too long.

"That's kill a man after, maybe, two days. Unless he was given a very specific concoction of rare medicinal herbs. They'd be coughing up their lungs and shitting out their bowels by the end, not a pretty way to go. The only fatal flaw, however, is that if they'd had the sense to smell it before they took a sip, they'd have known something was off."

Selena pouted slightly.

"Good work. We've got a long way to go, but you've almost got a handle on the basics."

Well, that was something at least.

Her brow furrowed, Selena bit her nail and thought for a moment. "I think... I think I'm having a problem conceptualizing it," she said. It was a struggle to find the right words. "By that I mean, I don't really know a single thing about poisons or alchemy or any of the stuff. I don't know what helps or harms a person. I don't know if I need to actually understand what certain poisons are, what their names happen to be or what they look or smell like, or if I just need to imagine what I 'want' it to be. Does that make sense? I'm not making any sense, am I?"

She sighed. "I'm hungry. Can we eat yet?" she whined.

 

[NinjaDeathSlap]

"I'm hungry. Can we eat yet?"

"Not yet." Olegg replied, before getting to his feet and moving over to her.

"You're thinking too practically." He told her "You're equating what you do to slipping a vial of nightshade in when nobody is looking, but your power is so much more than that. Chemicals are just a precursor, a means to death. You are imbuing substance with death itself. Move beyond the physical process into the abstract. Envision the will of Mylaviss, and the result will be as pure as it is deadly."

===========================================================================================================================

Arnold's expression began as satisfaction, as he saw how far Andra was able to expand her illusion, to sudden alarm as she found out where her limits currently lay, the hard way.

"Andra!" he called out as he rushed towards her. He managed to catch her before her head hit the floor, and slowly set her down. After checking her pulse and breathing were still healthy, he sat back and sighed, shaking his head.

"Come on," he said, picking her up in his arms. "Let's find somewhere more comfortable for you to lie down."

=========================================================================================================================

"Um- Is there anything specific that you would like for me to do?"

Tammy smiled, and took his hand.

"Let's start small for now..." She said, taking a small pebble out of the folds of her robes in the other hand. "I'll throw this up in the air, and we'll see how long you can make it take to hit the ground."

She had to be patient, and careful, with Langston. After seeing how he had been torn between an erratic mother and a distant, unsympathetic father, Tammy wasn't surprised the boy was as highly strung as he was. She'd have to eak to confidence out of him slowly, in ways that would reassure him that he wasn't going to hurt anyone intentionally.

"You know what the best thing about your ability is?" she told him, as she tossed the pebble up in the air. "There's nothing you can do that can't be undone just as easily."

=========================================================================================================================

"How long have you had this power, anyways?"

"About four-hundred years." Poppy replied nonchalantly. "You should ask the Old Man about what Mylaviss think, but he'll probably not be able to tell you anything useful. Now, try again."

 

[The Funslinger]

Will and Minerva had been watching everyone for several minutes, and she'd filled him in on the details of the tests his companions were undergoing.

"Some of these tests sure are odd," he said. "It seems like Sparrow and I have had the most outright success. Then again, our trials were straight up combat, and my power is more of a passive effect. The others don't seem to have it quite so simple."