04-13-2024, 08:13 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-15-2024, 03:05 AM by DirectorBright.)
[2024//04//11]
Grey sits on the floor, taking in a deep breath.
"Remember, focus on the feeling, then a moment as a catalyst. Don't be frustrated if it doesn't come to you... though I think I will be, since mine is the opposite."
He closes his eyes, and lays out his circuit. Whorls and loops of mana coil through his being, devoted to water, to wellspring. A gap. He fills it in, attunes to the ether, to what's within, to itself. Mana flows like water through the most of the circuit, roils with life, boils to ether, falls like rain...
[She sends him to fight boars, a menial task. He grows bored. Turn the boredom into anger. He's better than this. He can fight more than this.]
[Fear, A monster made flesh, a horror of endless eyes and teeth, speaking nonsense. She steps to fight it. He cannot intervene. She tells him not to. But why? Why is he discarded? Why is he held in such contempt? Why doesn't SHE do something, other than watch?]
[Fear, as it wins. Fear, as it gnaws upon her, devouring her. Do something]
[Move, save her-]
[No. No salvation. That is the path to holy magic. Drown it out.]
[They tell him to back away. Is he so weak? Why do they demand he do nothing? Frustration gives way to rage, overpowering fear. Do something.]
[Pain, gnawing pain, clawing up his arm. A whirl of tentacles and teeth rises above him, clinging to him, razor winds and shocking bolts tearing through his body. Heal the wounds, ride on hope- No hope. No safety. Only anger. Anger at interruption. Frustration at being discarded. Shame at being too slow. Shame at not having become strong sooner.]
[Her, injured, in the corner, eaten. He has to-]
[No. Not save her. The urge to save is holy magic.]
[He has to crush the monster, break it before his waves, drown it in the tide as it-]
[As it's razor wind burns through his defenses, as it's lightning scorches his skin and twists his nerves, as the waters flow slower and more weakly. It wraps itself around him, it burns his nerves, it fries him like an insect. His mana burns out, his nerves scream as his arm will never move the same again. Fear, pain, rage, shame. Why?]
[Why am I so weak?]
The focus breaks. The mana ebbs. He shivers, trapped in a memory.
[SHE steps in. SHE rebukes him. SHE crushes it in a moment. SHE could have saved them at any time, but all SHE did was watch. Why did SHE ridicule him? Why? He only wanted to help No. Save NO. Do SOMETHING NO! HE ONLY WANTED TO-]
The memory fades. He sags, spent, failed.
[2024//04//12]
Grey pans his gaze about the library. He is alone, this time, with no Krue in sight. Still, that is no reason not to practice.
He sits, this time in a comfortable chair, and turns his gaze inwards once again...
His mana circuit remains, as he left it. Swirling, looping mana in streams of glowing blue and gold, flowing like the tide... bubbling from the wellspring, evaporates into ether, falling like rain, to return to the spring...
Look back...
[She sends him to fight boars...]
Wash away any impurity. Focus down, down, to the most impactful thing...
[Fear, a monster made flesh, a horror of endless eyes and teeth, speaking nonsense. She steps to fight it. He cannot intervene. She tells him not to. But why? Why is he discarded? Why is he held in such contempt? Why doesn't SHE do something, other than watch?]
[Fear, as it wins. Fear, as it gnaws upon her, devouring her. Do something.]
[They tell him to back away. Is he so weak? Why do they demand he do nothing? Frustration gives way to rage, overpowering fear. Do something.]
[Pain, gnawing pain, clawing up his arm. A whirl of tentacles and teeth rises above him, clinging to him, razor winds and shocking bolts tearing through his body. Heal the wounds, ride on hope- No hope. No safety. Only anger. Anger at interruption. Frustration at being discarded. Shame at being too slow. Shame at not having become strong sooner.]
[He has to crush the monster, break it before his waves, drown it in the tide as it-]
[As it's razor wind burns through his defenses, as it's lightning scorches his skin and twists his nerves, as the waters flow slower and more weakly. It wraps itself around him, it burns his nerves, it fries him like an insect. His mana burns out, his nerves scream as his arm will never move the same again. Fear, pain, rage, shame. Why?]
[Why am I so weak?]
His focus holds... it holds...
[SHE steps in. SHE rebukes him. SHE crushes it in a moment. SHE could have saved them at any time, but all SHE did was watch. Why did SHE ridicule him? Why? He only wanted to help No. Save NO. Do SOMETHING NO!]
His heart races with pain, aches in his chest. His fingers twitch... The waters darken. The blackened tide surges, the circuits begin to attune...
Intense, searing agony roils through his circuits, the sheer shock of it forcing him out of his concentration, slipping the mana away as he writhes in unexpected agony. His mana sizzles through his circuits as the wellspring boils in fury at being forced to touch something so antithetical to it's nature. It spills over, his circuit lacking room to contain the excess mana, and it bleeds into his body, wracking him further.
He releases his hold, shivering, insensate beyond the agony of his condition. He folds, and waits for it to stop...
[2024//04//13]
He was close last time, very close. He mightn't have the room to attune, but he can at least gather the energy and practice summoning it.
His gaze turns inwards, the circuit shines within him. Mana, bubbling from the wellspring, flowing through lines of water, evaporating into ether, falling like rain to feed the spring...
Brackish strands linger still, in the aftermath of the touch of the occult.
[Pain. A whirlwind of teeth and eyes, a sore upon the world, a nightmare made flesh, descends upon him. Lashing winds flay his skin, arcing bolts of lightning sear through his body, teeth tear at his form.]
[Pain. He lies upon the ground,]
[Pain. Beaten, broken, helpless. Scorned. Useless. Pain.]
Pain.
Pain is the thing that underlines all of it. Pain is the constant, pain is the one thing that he can focus on and stay sane.
[Remember when she was beaten as you were, remember how your heart ached to see it, remember how it felt to lose. Remember the pain of being forced to watch and do nothing. The pain of being weak.]
Pain as the strands of brackish water grow, pain as the dark tide rises, pain as the wellspring roils and bubbles and thrashes when it touches the welling up of darkness, pain as it flows through his circuits, pain as it overflows and spills into his body with no room to attune it. Pain erodes his focus, sucks away his breath, urges him to curl into a ball and wait for it to end.
But today, he is ready for it.
In the end, it is only pain.
And so, gasping for air, he takes those brackish, darkened eddies, and pushes them into his fingers. The darkened mana flows like oil, a gooey mass that doesn't truly mix with the pure waters around it, that seethes and writhes where they meet, carried along in the stream.
And for a brief moment, tiny beads of darkness roll down their lengths like sweating tar, dripping to evaporate mere moments later. It is nothing, a trifle, barely even a single speck of mana. It isn't enough to pool into an orb, not even enough to begin to try. But it's there.
Sucking in a shuddering breath through the pain, he smiles with gritted teeth. He's done it.
And he releases the magic, for nothing more is coming today.
2024//04//14
There is a slow smile from Grey as he watches the ball blast a hole through the trees. He pats the boy's shoulder, the water stretching between the two to avoid breaking contact.
"You did it. Good job."
He raises his left hand, and stares into it with concentration.
"My turn, I suppose."
Pain and bitterness floods through his body as the dark currents kick up and writhe against the wellspring. Memories of loss, of defeat, of injury, of helplessness, all tied with pain. The pain remains incredibly intense, but he's used to it now. Grey clenches his jaw as it wells up, the pain all the more intense for the active use of wellspring.
But now there's something else. His eyes glance over to Krue, flick down to the injuries the boy sustained, wander up his own right arm. His fingers tighten for a moment around Krue's shoulder before he consciously relaxes them.
There is pain, yes. But now, there is also rage.
Darkness wells up and drips off of his hand like molten tar. He clenches his fist, the blackness being sucked inwards through his fingers. He opens his hand, and a swirling orb of darkness floats above it. It is unstable, its shape constantly dripping and wavering as it tries to disperse. It would hold no power in a real fight, he hasn't the room to properly attune it. The entire process took perhaps 30 seconds.
Still, when he reaches out towards the trees in front of him, the sphere flies off at great speed, splattering against the trunk and searing part of it away. Against most foes, it is nothing. But he's done it.
Grey sits on the floor, taking in a deep breath.
"Remember, focus on the feeling, then a moment as a catalyst. Don't be frustrated if it doesn't come to you... though I think I will be, since mine is the opposite."
He closes his eyes, and lays out his circuit. Whorls and loops of mana coil through his being, devoted to water, to wellspring. A gap. He fills it in, attunes to the ether, to what's within, to itself. Mana flows like water through the most of the circuit, roils with life, boils to ether, falls like rain...
[FIND THE FOCUS]
He thinks back...[She sends him to fight boars, a menial task. He grows bored. Turn the boredom into anger. He's better than this. He can fight more than this.]
[Fear, A monster made flesh, a horror of endless eyes and teeth, speaking nonsense. She steps to fight it. He cannot intervene. She tells him not to. But why? Why is he discarded? Why is he held in such contempt? Why doesn't SHE do something, other than watch?]
[Fear, as it wins. Fear, as it gnaws upon her, devouring her. Do something]
[Move, save her-]
[No. No salvation. That is the path to holy magic. Drown it out.]
[FIND THE FOCUS]
[They tell him to back away. Is he so weak? Why do they demand he do nothing? Frustration gives way to rage, overpowering fear. Do something.]
[FOCUS ON THE MONSTER, GATHER YOUR MANA-]
[Pain, gnawing pain, clawing up his arm. A whirl of tentacles and teeth rises above him, clinging to him, razor winds and shocking bolts tearing through his body. Heal the wounds, ride on hope- No hope. No safety. Only anger. Anger at interruption. Frustration at being discarded. Shame at being too slow. Shame at not having become strong sooner.]
[Her, injured, in the corner, eaten. He has to-]
[No. Not save her. The urge to save is holy magic.]
[FOCUS, GATHER THE MANA-]
[He has to crush the monster, break it before his waves, drown it in the tide as it-]
[As it's razor wind burns through his defenses, as it's lightning scorches his skin and twists his nerves, as the waters flow slower and more weakly. It wraps itself around him, it burns his nerves, it fries him like an insect. His mana burns out, his nerves scream as his arm will never move the same again. Fear, pain, rage, shame. Why?]
[Why am I so weak?]
The focus breaks. The mana ebbs. He shivers, trapped in a memory.
[SHE steps in. SHE rebukes him. SHE crushes it in a moment. SHE could have saved them at any time, but all SHE did was watch. Why did SHE ridicule him? Why? He only wanted to help No. Save NO. Do SOMETHING NO! HE ONLY WANTED TO-]
The memory fades. He sags, spent, failed.
[2024//04//12]
Grey pans his gaze about the library. He is alone, this time, with no Krue in sight. Still, that is no reason not to practice.
He sits, this time in a comfortable chair, and turns his gaze inwards once again...
His mana circuit remains, as he left it. Swirling, looping mana in streams of glowing blue and gold, flowing like the tide... bubbling from the wellspring, evaporates into ether, falling like rain, to return to the spring...
[FIND THE FOCUS]
Look back...
[She sends him to fight boars...]
[IRRELEVANT]
Wash away any impurity. Focus down, down, to the most impactful thing...
[Fear, a monster made flesh, a horror of endless eyes and teeth, speaking nonsense. She steps to fight it. He cannot intervene. She tells him not to. But why? Why is he discarded? Why is he held in such contempt? Why doesn't SHE do something, other than watch?]
[Fear, as it wins. Fear, as it gnaws upon her, devouring her. Do something.]
[IGNORE HER]
[They tell him to back away. Is he so weak? Why do they demand he do nothing? Frustration gives way to rage, overpowering fear. Do something.]
[Pain, gnawing pain, clawing up his arm. A whirl of tentacles and teeth rises above him, clinging to him, razor winds and shocking bolts tearing through his body. Heal the wounds, ride on hope- No hope. No safety. Only anger. Anger at interruption. Frustration at being discarded. Shame at being too slow. Shame at not having become strong sooner.]
[FOCUS ON THE MONSTER]
[He has to crush the monster, break it before his waves, drown it in the tide as it-]
[As it's razor wind burns through his defenses, as it's lightning scorches his skin and twists his nerves, as the waters flow slower and more weakly. It wraps itself around him, it burns his nerves, it fries him like an insect. His mana burns out, his nerves scream as his arm will never move the same again. Fear, pain, rage, shame. Why?]
[Why am I so weak?]
[HOLD]
His focus holds... it holds...
[SHE steps in. SHE rebukes him. SHE crushes it in a moment. SHE could have saved them at any time, but all SHE did was watch. Why did SHE ridicule him? Why? He only wanted to help No. Save NO. Do SOMETHING NO!]
Hold, for just a moment longer...
His heart races with pain, aches in his chest. His fingers twitch... The waters darken. The blackened tide surges, the circuits begin to attune...
[PAIN]
Intense, searing agony roils through his circuits, the sheer shock of it forcing him out of his concentration, slipping the mana away as he writhes in unexpected agony. His mana sizzles through his circuits as the wellspring boils in fury at being forced to touch something so antithetical to it's nature. It spills over, his circuit lacking room to contain the excess mana, and it bleeds into his body, wracking him further.
He releases his hold, shivering, insensate beyond the agony of his condition. He folds, and waits for it to stop...
[2024//04//13]
He was close last time, very close. He mightn't have the room to attune, but he can at least gather the energy and practice summoning it.
His gaze turns inwards, the circuit shines within him. Mana, bubbling from the wellspring, flowing through lines of water, evaporating into ether, falling like rain to feed the spring...
Brackish strands linger still, in the aftermath of the touch of the occult.
FOCUS
[Pain. A whirlwind of teeth and eyes, a sore upon the world, a nightmare made flesh, descends upon him. Lashing winds flay his skin, arcing bolts of lightning sear through his body, teeth tear at his form.]
[Pain. He lies upon the ground,]
[Pain. Beaten, broken, helpless. Scorned. Useless. Pain.]
Pain.
Pain is the thing that underlines all of it. Pain is the constant, pain is the one thing that he can focus on and stay sane.
REMEMBER
[Remember when she was beaten as you were, remember how your heart ached to see it, remember how it felt to lose. Remember the pain of being forced to watch and do nothing. The pain of being weak.]
Pain as the strands of brackish water grow, pain as the dark tide rises, pain as the wellspring roils and bubbles and thrashes when it touches the welling up of darkness, pain as it flows through his circuits, pain as it overflows and spills into his body with no room to attune it. Pain erodes his focus, sucks away his breath, urges him to curl into a ball and wait for it to end.
But today, he is ready for it.
In the end, it is only pain.
And so, gasping for air, he takes those brackish, darkened eddies, and pushes them into his fingers. The darkened mana flows like oil, a gooey mass that doesn't truly mix with the pure waters around it, that seethes and writhes where they meet, carried along in the stream.
And for a brief moment, tiny beads of darkness roll down their lengths like sweating tar, dripping to evaporate mere moments later. It is nothing, a trifle, barely even a single speck of mana. It isn't enough to pool into an orb, not even enough to begin to try. But it's there.
Sucking in a shuddering breath through the pain, he smiles with gritted teeth. He's done it.
And he releases the magic, for nothing more is coming today.
2024//04//14
There is a slow smile from Grey as he watches the ball blast a hole through the trees. He pats the boy's shoulder, the water stretching between the two to avoid breaking contact.
"You did it. Good job."
He raises his left hand, and stares into it with concentration.
"My turn, I suppose."
Pain and bitterness floods through his body as the dark currents kick up and writhe against the wellspring. Memories of loss, of defeat, of injury, of helplessness, all tied with pain. The pain remains incredibly intense, but he's used to it now. Grey clenches his jaw as it wells up, the pain all the more intense for the active use of wellspring.
But now there's something else. His eyes glance over to Krue, flick down to the injuries the boy sustained, wander up his own right arm. His fingers tighten for a moment around Krue's shoulder before he consciously relaxes them.
There is pain, yes. But now, there is also rage.
Darkness wells up and drips off of his hand like molten tar. He clenches his fist, the blackness being sucked inwards through his fingers. He opens his hand, and a swirling orb of darkness floats above it. It is unstable, its shape constantly dripping and wavering as it tries to disperse. It would hold no power in a real fight, he hasn't the room to properly attune it. The entire process took perhaps 30 seconds.
Still, when he reaches out towards the trees in front of him, the sphere flies off at great speed, splattering against the trunk and searing part of it away. Against most foes, it is nothing. But he's done it.