[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/fae174e5-f546-46ab-a379-44d59fd5156f.png[/img][/center]

[right][code]Mourningdove Lane[/code][/right]
[hr]

Okay, the old man had a point about it being a skill. Even if he didn’t say anything about the rest, not that Mason was surprised. The more he listened, the more his mood soured. He was starting to come up with a bigger picture for how this all worked. If they were magically stinking up the place everywhere they went, and they could be [i]tracked,[/i] then how long did that linger? Was it like energy where it disappeared after a while? Or did it settle into things and leave a mark? Was he okay to go home, or did that metaphorical ship sail last week?

Shit, what about mom?

[color=85B7EB]”Yeah.”[/color] That was his one response to any of this shit. Life wasn’t fair, and it just got a lot less fair. He followed the rest of them to whatever the hell the old elf wanted to show them. Mason was feeling [i]very[/i] curious about all of this, suddenly. And not just in the way everyone else was. Magic was fucking [i]real,[/i] and he could do it. He got a pretty damn shitty kind of it, but what if he could learn another? Or undo whatever shit was causing him to delete things from reality?

It wound something up in his brain. That something started spinning.

[hr]

[color=85b7eb][i]”Fuck,”[/i][/color] Mason echoed. On the Archivist’s screen, it showed what looked like some goddamn SWAT team leveling a shack. And it was [i]barely[/i] even that, it looked so decrepit that it was a wonder these so called “Witch Hunters” didn’t just turn around and walk away on the assumption it was abandoned.

Watching them bomb it just to kill someone they [i]assumed[/i] was inside really let all of this sink in that much further for Mason. They knew exactly what they were doing, moving in and hitting that spot with prejudice. The environment looked [i]wrong,[/i] if that wasn’t the screen itself doing that.

What could they do to a house that wasn’t in such bad shape? One with windows?

[quote=Lord Himblebimble the Podrous]
[color=DAA520]“They have no artifacts, no proper armor,”[/color] The Archivist chuckled, [color=DAA520]“they’re no true witch hunters, they’re cosplayers.  Larpers.  Trusting technology to do the work and leaving themselves exposed to your magic.”[/color]
[/quote]

[color=85b7eb]”…Artifacts? Like- What, like some magic lamp or something?”[/color] Mason asked. How did that work? [i]Rules for thee, not for me?[/i] If they were really that stupid, maybe that was true.

Mason shook his head and stepped back, thinking. They were in pretty bad shape, by the looks of things. But if [i]that[/i] was them when they were just jokers in Kevlar, what did they look like as the real deal? Mason was picturing flying suits of armor with fucking machine guns strapped over the shoulders. Helmets adorned with bulky, cycloptic contraptions that could read traces of magic smaller than atoms from a mile away. What if they just caved and started using wizards to kill wizards?

[color=85b7eb]”Fuck, shit, damnit- Okay…”[/color] He knitted his hands together and fidgeted them against one another. He started doing that a lot more lately after his magic started existing. [color=85b7eb]”They’ve had a week to look for us, and even if they’re running around with their heads up their asses, they have all that shit… We don’t. So… Fuck it.”[/color]

They were in a study, so he’d take some initiative.

Mason broke away from the group and stopped in front of a wall of books that looked magical. He read the spines, picking out the ones that were outlandish in name. It took him a moment before he stopped on one that seemed to grab his attention. One written in Elven.

He reached his hand up to grab and pulled back, before actually touching it. For a moment, Mason had to stop and actively think about [i]not[/i] discorporeating a valuable piece of knowledge. Who knew if this one book out of thousands in here could contextualize everything? 

He pulled it off and navigated around all the bits and bobs in the room, absentmindedly ensuring he would smack something priceless and snap it away. Mason opened the book and started reading through it while the others talked. Whatever subject he had started on was known only to God and whoever could read the language of Elves. Even though it was hard to tell, Mason [i]was[/i] part Elf on his mother’s side.

[quote=Percy Runningsmear]
[color=DAA520]“Introductions are finally in order.  I am Sir Percival Ravensmere. And you are fortunate I am here to help.”[/color]
[/quote]

Mason was two pages in when he turned his head back up. [color=85b7eb]”…You have got to be [i]fucking[/i] kidding me.”[/color] So they had to keep their heads down, learn to hide, when one of the biggest names in history was hanging around them? Yeah, they were fucked.

[color=85b7eb]”I’m giving it [i]three days[/i] before the other jackasses in your family find you.”[/color] And with that, he went back to reading.