[COLOR=GRAY][INDENT][COLOR=SILVER][SUB][h3]|| T[SUB][SUP]HE [/SUP][/SUB]H[SUB][SUP]AUNT - [/SUP][/SUB]M[SUB][SUP]ILK STREET[/SUP][/SUB][/h3][/SUB][/COLOR]
[INDENT][table][row][cell]The ceiling of the Haunt's basement was a winding maze of various pipes, conduits and ducts. Most of it had been capped, valves shut off, wires pulled, but enough was still working that the basement was filled with a subtle, dull hiss. Pipes creaked and moaned while the snap of shifting metal in the ductwork echoed through old concrete rooms with ceilings low enough to make even a person of moderate height duck through cement-block doorways.
 
[color=lightgray][i]"I hope that dial stays locked in on WKNT as our 'Days of Remembrance' special...[/i][/color] Crackling audio echoed through the narrow corridor, the broadcast illuminated on a cracked monitor hoisted above a desk littered with electronics and soldering equipment. Cables in neat braids were zip-tied into harnesses that ran parallel with the raceways on the ceiling above. The makeshift workspace was shared with various keyboards and synthesizers alongside other recording equipment.[/cell][/row][/table][table][row][cell][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019f23dc-52f2-758b-b77e-82e3b0c79c7a.webp[/img]
[color=2e2c2c]________________________________[/color][/cell][cell]Smoke rose from the tip of the soldering iron as the hooded figure continued to work on the circuit in front of him. The hum of a 3D printer in the corner added a constant drone behind the broadcast as the figure nodded along. He looked up from his work, his eyes fixing on the angular caricature of a rat's head that made up the large mask in front of him.

A smile crossed the man's face, the scars that marred his visage twisting with the grin while he stared into the glowing green LEDs that illuminated the face of the mask. He'd been considered a rat his whole life, a bilgerat raised in the Wharves, destined never to amount to anything. Mikołajek Kamiński may not have been a household name, but DJ R3TCH!D R@T was on the tip of everyone's tongue.

Now the people of Calder City worshipped the rat. 

[color=lightgray][i]...Becca, I have to ask, since you know your Calder Capes pretty well, do you remember the Piper?"[/i][/color]

The Piper, Landin Johansson. He had left a tremendous impact on Mikołajek's life. Or rather, an impressive void. His sperm donor of a father, the Piper had used his abilities to assault Mikołajek's mother, coerce her into relations with him and then bailed the minute those actions had consequences. Naturally, no other suitor came calling once word got out that his dear mother had been a Graybanger. 

Even the Molls wouldn't take her.[/cell][/row][/table][table][row][cell]Given the difficulty that Krysia had in proving her consent was coerced to the police, let alone any lawyer that would hear her out, Mikołajek's mother had never been able to press charges against the alleged super. 

[color=lightgray][i]"...dead, killed in a shootout with the Pointe District Police in the middle of Swashbuckler's Splashdown."[/i][/color] The female host stated, only serving to widen Mikołajek's grin as he stared into the rat mask beaming with pride. It had been easy enough to procure the Piper's armaments, offer to sign a few autographs, take some pictures, all the while lying through his mask to the Calder City Police Department about what a fan he was of the Piper. 

Grease the right palms, and evidence from closed cases was fairly easy to acquire. But Mikołajek was not some overly confident, arrogant fool either. Once he had successfully reverse-engineered the Piper's technology using equipment he had discovered in a similar hideaway to his own beneath the Swashbuckler’s Splashdown Park, Mikołajek had simply returned the originals. 

His version greatly improved upon the design anyhow. Frequency dialation allowed Mikołajek to target specific age groups, giving his music almost a hypnotic quality that compelled the listener to do exactly as their new Rat God desired. 

Lyrics for several new songs sat scribbled in front of him, Mikołajek finding himself humming along to the hook of 'I'm Robin H00d, B!t₵h'. A monitor beside him began to play a snuff film while his latest single filled the room. Reaching across towards the glowing green mask, Mikołajek removed an ear, pulling out the circuit board before replacing it with the one he had been working on and reconnecting the quick connector.

[color=lightgray][i]"Local DJ 'R3TCH!D R@T' is the talk of the local scene again with his new single 'Break Stuff (& Kill Ur Rents)'. The evocative title is followed by even more vulgar lyrics which encourage the listener to do exactly that, all while set against a heavy bassline and disorienting instrumentals. Using snippets of local news segments, spliced with TockBox and SnapShot videos, the song is unfortunately catchy with a rhythm that will hype you up and make you want to follow its earworm lyrics."[/i][/color]

A broadcast from another of Calder's radio stations played concurrently with the video unfolding in front of him. Mikołajek began to smile as the teenager at the focal point of the video began to swung around an aluminum baseball bat, destroying their parents' living room decor before moving on to family photographs and even awards that dotted the mantle.

[color=lightgray][i]"...not just "edgy" or "rebellious." It is a direct incitement to violence. In what world is it acceptable to market a track that explicitly encourages teenagers to harm their parents? We are living in a society that is falling apart at the seams, and this person is actively pouring gasoline on the fire for a few streams..."[/i][/color]

Screams began to drown out the talk show as the video displayed the teenager now turning the bat on his father. The older man's jaw hung at an unnatural angle, an eyeball had been freed from its socket while teeth and blood collectively littered the accent rug in the middle of the demolished room. 

As the father's laboured breathing came to an end, the enraged teenager tightened his hands on the bat, moving around to target the mother. Mikołajek grimaced slightly, a glimmer of humanity causing him to look away before the screaming suddenly resumed.   

[COLOR=LIGHTGRAY][i]"Oof, that is rough, buddy. Anyways, folks, here's local artist and current Calder City favourite, DJ R3TCH!D Rat with 'I'm not Gray (& I Luv It)."[/i][/COLOR][/cell][/row][/table]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019ed633-146b-75dd-a83a-c9ce8b3d63da.webp[/img]

[sup][h2]O[i][sub][sup]nce was a man who lived a life so mundane, it could only be true. 

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Practically invisible to the world around him, life carries on while he felt perpetually stuck treading water just to keep his head

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afloat. Fortunately for the man, fate had different ideas and intervened with a heavy hand. Pushed into a corner, the man 

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was driven to hide amongst dusty shelves and heavy tomes. In the silence, he could hear his name being whispered, 

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over and over again, until his hand touched one particular opus. A worn book, bound in leather and tarnished steel. Though 

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sealed, it opened for a price, and upon spreading its pages, the man's life was changed forever. 
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Now, he is the Warlock they call...[/sup][/sub][/i][/h2][/sup][/center][/INDENT][/INDENT][sub][hr][/sub][sup][hr][/sup][CENTER][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5661999][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019e83f9-259f-75fb-95e3-57387106ed18.webp[/img][/url][/CENTER][sub][hr][/sub][sup][hr][/sup][SUB][SUP][table][row][cell][INDENT][h2][b][COLOR=SILVER]L[SUP][SUB]OCATION:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]THE WAMPANOAG APARTMENT COMPLEX - MILK STREET[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h2][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][RIGHT][h2][b][COLOR=SILVER]U[SUP][SUB]RBAN [/SUB][/SUP]G[SUP][SUB]OTHIC[/SUB][/SUP] #1.11[SUP][SUB]:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]HAVEN[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h2][/RIGHT][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/SUB][hr][SUP][SUP][table][row][cell][INDENT][sup][h1][b][COLOR=SILVER]I[SUP][SUB]NTERACTIONS:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB]NONE[/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h1][/sup][/INDENT][/cell][cell][INDENT][RIGHT][sup][h1][b][COLOR=SILVER]P[SUP][SUB]REVIOUSLY:[/SUB][/SUP][/COLOR][/b] [i][SUP][SUB][URL=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5666958]HARD KNOCKS[/URL][/SUB][/SUP][/i][/h1][/sup][/RIGHT][/INDENT][/cell][/row][/table][/SUP][/SUP][INDENT][INDENT][TABLE][ROW][CELL]It was absolutely fascinating how the Grimoire had adapted to its new form. 

Perfectly emulating Archie's lost phone, by the time he had finally arrived home, it had racked up an impressive missed call and text count from both Harri and Boz. The young lawyer was completely enthralled as the device functioned not only exactly like the one it had replaced, but far beyond the capabilities of a mundane cellphone. It was intuitive to his every thought and whim, cycling through emulated applications and composing messages as they came to Archie.

Thankfully, it still seemed to require his input before sending.

But it was not texting that Archie wanted. No, instead he found himself rapidly pouring through the pages of the Grimoire. The book's author, Zechariah Auber, had left behind a complete manual to mag'ik and a history of the lineage of Emyrs. His emerald eyes had watched in surprise as the book filled out his own name beneath Auber on the 'family tree.' Beside his own name was another direct apprentice of Zechariah Auber, but the name had become corrupted, ending his lineage as the floating symbols refused to form a word or name that was legible to Archie. 

Continuing to thumb through the pages, the sandy-haired man laid his eyes on every word on the screen. Foreign languages instantly translated, glyphs became graphemes. Illustrations were suddenly animated, showing the precise movements to conjure forth bursts of flame and bolts of electricity. But what stopped Archie in his tracks was one of the earliest pages of the Grimoire.    

[CENTER][INDENT][INDENT][QUOTE][COLOR=LIGHTGRAY][SUB][h3]T[SUB][SUP]HE [/SUP][/SUB]R[SUB][SUP]ULES OF [/SUP][/SUB]M[SUB][SUP]AG'IK[/SUP][/SUB][/h3][/SUB][img]Mag'ik is a living energy, with a will and whims. It surrounds all of us and binds life together. It flows through every person, creature and object, allowing those who understand it to bend and reshape the world to their will. Mag'ik chooses us as much as we choose it and only once chosen can the barrier between worlds be passed to access this powerful extra-dimensional energy. 

Mag'ik always comes with a price, a price which must be paid in full. The price will vary from person to person or act to act; the ultimate price is your life. The price may be paid in blood, either your own or of another, in material cost or through time. 

Like a flowing current, Mag'ik requires a conduit of which your body is the channel. Every time you cast, your body pays the price, though this cost can be offset through the use of an external conduit or your familiar. A conduit must be comprised of materials best suited to wielding mag'ik and different materials will inherently have different affinities based on the deep mag'ik within them. Gems and other precious materials may need to be replaced over time as their use exhausts their value. 

Once constructed, a conduit is bound to its practitioner. No other mage may use the conduit of another to cast unless it has been won in conflict or it has otherwise been relinquished to them. Sentimentality and emotional weight enhance the power of a conduit, drawing both deep and blood mag'ik into them. For this reason, some of the most powerful conduits are often family heirlooms. A conduit is as much a tool as it is a weapon. In the hands of the right arcane master, they are unstoppable. This instrument is your life; disarmed of it, you are vulnerable. 

All those touched by Mag'ik are paired with a familiar. Thought to be beings from the realm of Mag'ik, familiars may take any form, but their default state should be an extension of their master. Familiars are thought to be ageless, with many bonding to several different mages over the course of their incredibly long lives. A familiar is required to remain loyal to its master unless that mage deems it free. Familiars are explicitly forbidden from taking the form of a human. Doing so would create a doppelgänger or fetch, the unnatural duplication of another human being.[/img]
[JUSTIFY][i]ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴇʀɢy, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜɪᴍꜱ. ɪᴛ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴜꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʙɪɴᴅꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ɪᴛ ꜰʟᴏᴡꜱ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀy ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ, ᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇꜱʜᴀᴩᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡɪʟʟ. ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴜꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟy ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴄᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅꜱ ʙᴇ ᴩᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ-ᴅɪᴍᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴇɴᴇʀɢy. 

ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀʟᴡᴀyꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ, ᴀ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ᴩᴀɪᴅ ɪɴ ꜰᴜʟʟ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴠᴀʀy ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴩᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴛ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ɪꜱ yᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ ᴍᴀy ʙᴇ ᴩᴀɪᴅ ɪɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ yᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴏʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴄᴏꜱᴛ ᴏʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. 

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜰʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ʀᴇqᴜɪʀᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ yᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅy ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɴᴇʟ. ᴇᴠᴇʀy ᴛɪᴍᴇ yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ, yᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴅy ᴩᴀyꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴩʀɪᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ᴏꜰꜰꜱᴇᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏʀ yᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ. ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴩʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪɴʜᴇʀᴇɴᴛʟy ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴀꜰꜰɪɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴩ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ɢᴇᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴩʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟꜱ ᴍᴀy ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇᴩʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴇxʜᴀᴜꜱᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴠᴀʟᴜᴇ. 

ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ɪꜱ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴩʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴛɪᴏɴᴇʀ. ɴᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴍᴀy ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛ ᴏʀ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇʟɪɴqᴜɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟɪᴛy ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴇɴʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴇᴩ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴩᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰᴛᴇɴ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟy ʜᴇɪʀʟᴏᴏᴍꜱ. ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴜɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴏʟ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴀᴩᴏɴ. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇy ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴꜱᴛᴏᴩᴩᴀʙʟᴇ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ yᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ; ᴅɪꜱᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ, yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙʟᴇ. 

ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇᴅ ʙy ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴩᴀɪʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢ'ɪᴋ, ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴍᴀy ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴy ꜰᴏʀᴍ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴇꜰᴀᴜʟᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ. ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɴy ʙᴏɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴅɪʙʟy ʟᴏɴɢ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ. ᴀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴇqᴜɪʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ʟᴏyᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴍꜱ ɪᴛ ꜰʀᴇᴇ. ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇxᴩʟɪᴄɪᴛʟy ꜰᴏʀʙɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ. ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴏᴩᴩᴇʟɢäɴɢᴇʀ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴛᴄʜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅᴜᴩʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ.[/i][/JUSTIFY][/color][/QUOTE][/INDENT][/INDENT][/CENTER]
A sound of discontent escaped the lithe male's mouth, a scowl upon his face turning to a frown while reading the rules. Re-reading them, he found himself both unimpressed and utterly underwhelmed with how vague the guidelines actually were. Bookmarking the page for later, Archie made a mental note to return and draft a secondary reading of the rules, something more rigid for himself to follow. If this 'mag'ik' was as dangerous as Galloway had made it out to be, then there ought to be more rules than the one listed above.

Still, the apparently arcane-touched Archie couldn't risk the temptation to try to cast something as he flipped until he found a simple illumination spell. Following the directions on the page, Hardwick moved his hand along with the animation several times before muttering to himself.

[color=C0C0C0]"S-solas, uh, n'hir-a."[/color] Sparks crackled from the palm of his hand, a quick flash of light barely illuminated beyond his hand in the musty corridor of the apartment building. His green eyes went wide in shock that it had worked at all. Waving his hand in shock as though it were on fire, he held it out in front of himself again before repeating the phrase, only this time louder and more confidently.

[b][color=#B3B3B3]"[/color][color=#BBBBBB]S[/color][color=#C3C3C3]o[/color][color=#CBCBCB]l[/color][color=#D3D3D3]a[/color][color=#DBDBDB]s[/color] [color=#EBEBEB]n[/color][color=#E3E3E3]'[/color][color=#DBDBDB]h[/color][color=#D3D3D3]i[/color][color=#CBCBCB]r[/color][color=#C3C3C3]a[/color][color=#BBBBBB]![/color][color=#B3B3B3]"[/color][/b] An orb of light appeared in Hardwick's hand, casting a soft white light over the corridor of the apartment before the fledgling warlock rounded the corner towards his unit. Continuing to walk down the dimly lit corridor, Archie was so enamoured with poring through the Grimoire and the success of his first spell that he didn't even notice Harri waiting outside his apartment door before nearly tripping over her.[/CELL][/ROW][/TABLE]
[TABLE][ROW][CELL][COLOR=#98FB98]"Where the ₣ʊ₵κ have you been?"[/COLOR] Harri stood, ripping into Archie almost immediately before wrapping her arms around him. Archie felt his cheeks begin to flush before the sensation of something wet started to soak through his shirt. Harri lifted her face; her mascara was smudged, her eyes red with fresh tears welling up in their corners.

[COLOR=#98FB98]"I have been worried sick."[/COLOR] Harri sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. [COLOR=#98FB98]"I didn't know what to think when you didn't reply. First you went missing, then Tess-"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Wait,"[/COLOR] Archie interjected, [COLOR=C0C0C0]"Treasure's missing?"[/COLOR] He asked. Beyond having two doting parents, there was another reason Archie had always envied Harri. She had a younger sibling, a built-in friend for life, in the form of her sister, Treasure.

[COLOR=#98FB98]"I might not have been completely honest about yesterday..."[/COLOR] Harri tucked a long strand of her dark hair behind an ear. Her eyes looked off to the side before looking up at Archie again only once she had released him. Nodding, Archie moved to his apartment door as Harri followed him while Archie unlocked it.

[COLOR=#98FB98]"Of course, I wanted to celebrate you,[/COLOR] the brown-eyed woman reassured Archie,  [COLOR=#98FB98]"But Tess has been acting out more and more lately, ever since she found out she was a..."[/COLOR] Harri had to take a moment, struggling to say the word out loud. [COLOR=#98FB98]"Y'know, a g-."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"She's a Gray, Harri,"[/COLOR] Archie replied softly, [COLOR=C0C0C0]"It's not a big deal."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#98FB98]"I know, but Mom and Dad are having a really hard time with it, and now Tess is acting like she doesn't know who she is."[/COLOR] Harri explained.[/CELL][CELL][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019f2450-fe9e-72a4-8e77-3984d019531f.webp[/img]
[color=2e2c2c]________________________________[/color][/CELL][/ROW][/TABLE][table][row][cell][COLOR=#98FB98]"I knew she was going to the Haunt last night, and I used your promotion as an excuse to keep an eye on her. I mean, you saw how the Dragons are practically all over that place."[/color] Archie watched Harri intently, feeling like he should maybe hold her hand or hug her. Instead, he just awkwardly stood, listening to her while she leaned against the doorway of his apartment. 

[COLOR=#98FB98]"Look, I deserved everything you unloaded on me last night, but is there any chance you can come with me back to the club. You seemed to hit it off with that bartender chick, maybe we can use that to find a lead."[/color] Harri suggested, [COLOR=#98FB98]"Or you have that friend in the D.A.'s office still, right? Look, Arch, I'm spiralling here, I don't trust the police."[/color]

[COLOR=C0C0C0][i]Good call.[/i][/COLOR] Archie deadpanned to himself. His experience earlier that day was rightfully still quite fresh in his mind.

[COLOR=#98FB98]"You've seen all the missing posters littering the city. Grays turning up dead with shaved heads, I can't let that be, Treasure."[/color] Harri pleaded.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Look, Harri, I want to help, I really do,"[/color] Archie replied, [COLOR=C0C0C0]"But I don't know how much help I can be."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#98FB98]"Can you call Boz and have him meet us at the Haunt at least?"[/COLOR] The woman batted her dark brown eyes at Archie. Any resistance he had instantly melted. [COLOR=#98FB98]"C'mon, it's for Tess, you have to know she was always a little sweet on you."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=C0C0C0][i]No, I did not in fact know that.[/i][/COLOR]

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Okay, I'm i-"[/COLOR] Archie began to answer, only to be interrupted by a loud bark as Marrok suddenly opted to make himself known.

[COLOR=#98FB98]"You got a dog!?"[/COLOR] Harri asked, her tone torn between confusion and excitement.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"I think it might have been a drunk decision from last night; the details are a little foggy."[/COLOR] Archie lied. [COLOR=C0C0C0]"His name is Marrok."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#98FB98]"Marrok, such a handsome boy,"[/COLOR] Harri replied, approaching the black dog without any semblance of fear and scratching him under his chin. [COLOR=#98FB98]"He's of course, coming too, right?"[/COLOR]

Marrok barked again, no doubt to answer Harri's question himself, before Archie slowly nodded.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"Let me call Boz and freshen up."[/COLOR] He stated, leaving Harri in the living room with Marrok before searching the bathroom for some Advil. Most of his hangover had subsided, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.

[COLOR=C0C0C0]"I'll, uh, drive, I guess."[/COLOR] He called, poking his head back out before shutting the bathroom door.

What he wouldn't give for a quiet evening to curl up with a certain book.[/CELL][/ROW][/TABLE][/INDENT][/INDENT][/COLOR]