[hider=Bawen's Test. Aka, Bawen's Bizarre Adventure]
The Professor launches into his explanation of the testing immediately, speaking as quickly as one with such a rough voice could. He chose Magnhild first of the six in the classroom, and following her lack of a display, called on Bawen. [color=7ea7d8]"That should be sufficient. Please step back so that the next student can take their position. Mr. Coridell, I'm looking forward to your display..."[/color]

...followed by retracting his request. [color=7ea7d8]"Actually, on second thought, you can wait, Mr. Coridell. I like to save the most promising ones for last. You there: Little Shit, I saw what you did earlier. Since you seem overly comfortable with it... Step forwards and begin your magic demonstration."[/color]

All in all, every other student in Laboratory room Six went before Bawen, including the few humans present. Their abilities were wildly varied, from "nothing at all" to electrical writing with some of the noble gases. Finally, when they were finished, Brovak turns his head towards Bawen and nods once, indicating that the sheep chimera should step forwards and begin his demonstration.

Bawen steps forward casually, politely nodding to the professor. [color=#00FFFF]"Is there anything in particular you wish to see demonstrated? Or shall I ...wing it?"[/color] He asks, gently picking up a long staff like fork from the table. The two silvered prongs hanging a good foot above his head. 

[color=7ea7d8]"Wing it. I would like to see what the son of the [i]esteemed[/i] Coridell family is capable of,"[/color] the Professor says. The contempt is audible, but he does seem to expect something impressive nonetheless.


Bawen sighs, not wishing to dignify the thinly (very thinly) veiled disgust in the mans voice. Instead he reaches out with his magic, grasping at the thin wishes of objects that did not exist. He wondered, at times, how these distant thoughts of being came into...well, not existence per se, though the conversation always quickly devolved. Tense was rather difficult for an object that was, fundamentally, removed from reality. 

He drags the tip of the fork across the floor, scratching the tile slightly, more to direct attention than to aid the spell. The air in the room cools considerably, the heat being drawn towards some unseen maw. There is a soft flash of purple-blue light, the warmth snapping back into place as it fades. A large, delicate klien bottle sits in the previously unoccupied space.

Brovak looks down at the object, and in an instant it disappears with none of the fanfare that had brought it in from the void. Bawen feels the slight tinge of Foundation kicking the object not only into the void, but somewhere even deeper into oblivion. [color=7ea7d8]"You've learned well, though I don't approve of the method. Very... Temperamental. Very well, then. Let's move on to the next stage of the test,"[/color] Brovak says, scribbling down a longer set of notes than he had for any other student in the room.

[hr]

Brovak half-jogs to the rear of the room, where he rips the black cloth off of the rattling cube there to reveal a huge insectoid Monster violently thrashing and trying to throw itself towards the rack of gas masks nearby. And just as he had at the start of the class, he launches into a lecture on what the next task would be. [color=7ea7d8]"This is an Ashhopper. It's one of the most deadly creatures in the Deadlands not because it directly kills (usually), but rather because it feeds on equipment other people need to survive there. The combat exam requires that you kill every Ashhopper in the test chamber before they 'kill' you. Try not to worry too much - the gas in the chamber is not deadly (unfortunately), so even if you fail, you will still survive and be placed in a class (against my recommendations). L'ilisht, you're up first."[/color]

Just as before, every student went before Bawen, save for Magnhild. The wait is a fairly long one, with each test ranging from one to ten minutes. L'ilisht's was the longest.

[color=7ea7d8]"Mr. Coridell, please put on one of the masks and enter the room. You may take this knife as well, or that fork you used before, if you wish."[/color]

 [color=#00FFFF]"The military fork should be sufficient, though I do not think it will be necessary."[/color] He says, looking over the gas maks for a moment.  [color=#00FFFF]"...I hate to ask and thus be a bother, but you do not happen to have a mask for a horn size large on hand do you?"[/color] He says, turning to Brovak.

Brovak looks to Bawen, then looks to the masks. He snaps his fingers once, and one of the remaining masks reshapes itself so that it would more reasonably fit Bawen's head. [color=7ea7d8]"There. That should be sufficient."[/color]

Bawen adjusts the straps to the newly refitted mask, pulling the leather tight against him until he could feel it cut into the skin. Satisfied with the fit, he stands in front of the door, preparing himself to fight. Well...in so much as one can fight with a glorified roach.

The Deadlands environment within invited Bawen inside, complete with parasitic glowing vines - distant relatives of some of the plants Bawen was familiar with from his home region. Nothing was moving inside, and Brovak readied himself by the button to seal Bawen in once he entered.

The young sheep steps inside, looking a lot smaller compared to the flora surrounding him. If he was nervous, it didn't show.  [color=#00FFFF]"To be clear, is there a penalty for damages done to the environment?"[/color] He asks, digging the pommel of the fork into the ground slightly.

[color=7ea7d8]"None whatsoever. Just keep your mask intact,"[/color] Brovak says, right before he presses the button, slamming the blast door closed behind the Chimera. With the door closed, all light save for the dim purple-pink glow of the vines vanished, and moments later a thin white mist spread through the test chamber. Immediately after, Bawen is struck with what's immediately identifiable as magical energy - presumably to start the test. The room remains dead silent, save for the wheezing of the sporeflower several meters in, and soft 'clicking' noises echoing around the room's concrete walls from the left, right, and center.

Bawen waves his free hand in front of him, five small orbs of realized nothing hissing into life. They thrummed and glowed slightly, wanting to return to the void they came from but kept anchored (if only for the moment) by the sheep as they orbited the tip of the fork slowly. He would have preferred more, but they were draining to maintain, and he doubted he'd nail the first shot. Now comfortably armed, Bawen cautiously steps forward, fork gripped in both hands tightly. 

The creatures in the room shuffled about almost invisibly in the darkened room. The motion of their large brownish shells almost stood out in the darkness, where they crawled on the walls, and though it was almost impossible to tell how large they were exactly, there were perhaps three. At least, if there weren't more hidden somewhere in the plantlife.

Bawen fires an orb at one of the ashhopers on the wall, he had no real hopes of it connection, but he wanted to test their speed. And if he happened to take one out, so much the better. 

The orb strikes just behind where the creature had been, and a loud buzzing sound fills the room as it lept off the wall and flew almost directly at Bawen. Unlike the creature displayed in the cage, this Ashhopper is a dull shade of grey rather than brown, and its eyes are affixed to its head rather than on swiveling eyestalks. Small bumps and ridges cover its entire body, and it zigzags through the air with its circular mouth aimed towards Bawen's filtration canister.

The other dark shapes on the walls scatter and seek cover behind plants, save for one, which slowly creeps towards him through the razor grass.

 [color=#00FFFF]"Hm. Well aren't you cute."[/color] Bawen scoffs, watching as the concrete where the orb struck violently break apart as the orb collapsed in on itself, violently forcing matter around itself to fill the now 'freed' space. He taps the pommel of the fork on the ground, a small slap of stone hurling itself at the grey hopper, his free hand swinging wildly, launching a second orb into the razor grass. Faster this time, hoping he's gauged the speed right.

The stone strikes the grey hopper directly between the eyes. The creature falls to the ground and rubs the space where the stone had lodged itself in its chitin. It glares upwards at him, with some sort of animalistic or insectoid wisdom and hatred in its black compound eyes, and launches itself at his chest with the sound of a loud gunshot.

It takes all of Bawen's self control not to flinch as the creature smashes into his chest, instead craning his neck upward to give the filter some distance. That was probably going to bruise, but better than failing without a kill under his belt. It was attached to him, too close to teleport now. He brings his free arm down, sweeping across his chest onto its head. He spares a glace back to the razor grass patch, keeping an eye on the brave hopper he thought he could sneak an attack in. 

The creature clings to his chest even more tightly and glares at him as it moves its mouthparts towards the filtration canister. It's taking its time as though actively taunting him. Elsewhere in the room, some of the sounds of movement have stopped. At least one of the creatures was struck with the orb he had flung moments before.

Bawen weighs his options for the moment before grasping the section of stone protruding from the hoppers head.  [color=#00FFFF]"You are not NOT a rod."[/color] He says, for the hoppers benefit, as the slab elongates, pushing forward into the creature. 

Something like realization flashes through the Hopper's eyes when it sees the stone embedded in its shell changing shape. The Hopper falls over, off of Bawen, before the rod has even pushed into its head. The creature is rocking back and forth on its side, desperately cleaning its own legs as though it had been told something utterly horrifying. It looks like it is going to file a sexual harassment suit against Bawen when it gets up. More loud buzzing noises come from behind, followed by a second Ashhopper landing next to its comrade and brushing its forelimbs over the terrified one's head, and a third landing a few feet away to keep its distance from the other two. The third Ashhopper stares at Bawen accusingly.

Bawen stares the third down, raising his fork threatening before bringing it down as hard as he can. To the hopper, it must have seemed a strange sight, him stabbing at nothing. More so as the sheep blinked from existence, a coldness shooting through the air as he reappeared behind the uninjured loner. The trio of orbs did not seem to make the trip with him and they hang limply in the space he formerly occupied. 

The second Ashhopper scoots forwards to investigate Bawen's sudden disappearance, while the third [i]instantly[/i] throws its head to the ground and fires off a two-legged kick at Bawen's left knee with the sound of a small rifle shot. The fork comes down on top of it, pinning it to the ground immediately after. The first is still traumatized, but its rocking is slowing down some, and it seems horrified by its brother's sudden, almost inexplainable death.

The wild kick slams into Bawen's knee, buckling it, and the chimera swears at himself for getting cocky. He wrenches the fork upward, intending to gore the creature in petty revenge. Seeing that the grey hopper is beginning to recover, he wills the orbs to fling themselves at it. He'd have to 'reload' before hey could deal with the last one, the air already causing the newly minted cut to his leg to itch beyond reason.

A life threatening emergency is enough to snap any creature out of a foul mood, and the perhaps unusually intelligent Ashhopper swings its head towards the black orbs, not entirely certain of what they'll do. They collide with its forehead, and... Nothing. The orbs simply vanish, and the two Ashhoppers turn back towards Bawen. The one he had already injured lifts off into the air, while the other rears back on its hind legs in preparation for another pounce. And the familiar feeling of magical energy springs to life in the room's atmosphere.

Bawen grimaces as the orbs fail to injure the creature. Brovak...he must have meddled somehow.  [color=#00FFFF]" Wouldn't be much of a test..."[/color] He grumbles backing up, keeping an eye on the two as he scans the rest of the room. looking for a better position to fight the trio from, or retreat if possible. 

The airborne Ashhopper flung itself towards Bawen's head as the one on the ground lept straight for his chest. The feeling of magical energy intensifies as the two approach.

Bawen flings the fork at the pair, rolling to the side. It had served its purpose, and now was only good for a distraction (he didn't trust himself to get into an exchange of blows with them). As he lands, he forces the earth up around him, forming a rock cocoon, huffing as he does so. He lays in it for a second, catching his breath as he thinks about what to do. 

Two thumps sound out around the inside of the cocoon where the two Ashhoppers flung themselves back at him. Then silence, and the feeling of magical energy begins to rapidly build outside the shell.

Bawen curses, his voice muffled by the mask. He couldn't even take satisfaction in swearing now it seemed. He racks his brain, trying to come up with a plan, but between the hoppers and the gas causing his leg to itch, he cou...Something hits him, a smirk spreading across his hidden face. He reaches out with his magic once again, feeling the air and its properties. It was wet, and sickly with the gas. 

He starts with the air first, denying its ability to hold water as best he can. Fat globs of condensation forming on the sides of the walls and rivulets rolling off the large mushroom in the middle of the room. When half the water was freed, he stopped. It'd have to do. 

The walls of the cocoon begin to lose temperature and frost over as the magical energy reaches a crescendo. The effect is slow, weak, but it's undeniably a use of magic that Monsters are supposedly able to use. Eventually, as Bawen finishes his own atmospheric modifications, the outer shell of the cocoon begins to chip and break apart. Water is seeping into the stone shell, prying it apart as it freezes. A crack forms and the open maw of one of the two hoppers is clearly visible through the tiny gap.

Bawen throws his magic outword, no longer worried about having energy after the fight. Normally, he'd have preferred to analyze the gas, and gently deny what he needed it to be. He could feel himself sweat, despite the shiver flowing through him as the cold raced through him. The air begins to smell stranger than normal, the normal sickly sweetness replaced by the harshness of what might be rancid meat. He supposed this was a side effect of denying the air its inflammability. It was starting to react abnormally with other elements in the air, though thankfully not quickly. 

He grins up at the Ashhopper, eyes shinning with malic as he gently pokes a finger just before the hole, a small spark leaping from his hand. 

The Ashhopper stares back for just a moment, and leaps back in time for much of the room to erupt into flame. It lasts only a short while, but the inferno outside seems to have done the job, judging by the smoke rising from where the Ashhopper had been, just barely visible through the crack.

Bawen pushes his way out of the cocoon, the earthen shell crumbling to bits, scanning the room for survivors, admiring the fine char everything seemed to have at the moment. Well, he DID ask if he would be penalized for damages. 

One survivor is immediately visible. It's surrounded by a puddle of water, where the other, now thoroughly incinerated, Ashhopper had flash frozen it. The surviving Ashhopper stumbles over to the ashes of its ally, then turns to Bawen and leaps at his head one last time, this time erupting into smoke, with a small flicker of flame visible in each eye.

Bawen was surprised the Ashhoper had survived, he'd thrown everything into that spell. Time seemed to slow for the chimera, his frustration building a lovely cottage in his stomach as the offending...THING dared to charge. He felt something primal snap inside his mind, his neck arching back.  [color=#00FFFF]"LEARN YOUR PLACE!"[/color] He shouts, voice clear with fury even through the mask as he rams his head down on the Ashhoper. 

The insect's smoking body collides with Bawen's hooded horns, and it violently splatters with enough force to throw the chimera to the ground unconscious. The hooded mask is slightly charred where the insect had detonated itself, but still intact.

The remaining wisps of white fog flow out of the room, and the blast door opens, followed by the incinerated remnants of the Ashhoppers disappearing and the light damage to Bawen's mask being reversed. Brovak just stands there, looking at Bawen as the repairing magic floods the room. [color=7ea7d8]"...I may have overdone it this time. Still, even though you lost consciousness, I suppose you fulfil the requirements of killing all of the Ashhoppers and keeping your mask intact... You pass, you may go after you remove the hood. ...Wait, you're still out? Fine."[/color]

Bawen emits an unconscious trill/gurgle of victory as he lay on the ground. Once he regains consciousness, he is sure to be delighted by the praise. Brovak steps into the room, grips Bawen by the horns, and drags him out before turning to Magnhild.

[/hider]