Lawful Newtral

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@Jeyma That sounds like a plan! Never planned on these animations to be long-lasting anyhow. Probably like 15 minutes at most before they crumble or ejected from the vessel.

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Depends on what you mean by spirit. XD

As in, summoning spirits? Like summoning a ghost or a spirit animal?

Or are you talking about magical control over a person's soul?

@Jeyma

More along the lines of 'persuading' ancient spirits to follow my every command, which I guess is necromancy now that I think about it. Basically, my idea for these ancient spirits is that they're able to possess things without existing spirits and bring them to life, like statues or even the elements themselves, but obviously can't do shit to people who already have souls/spirits/whatever you wanna call it.

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Whoo, posted. Now I will probably make a new character!

What's y'all opinions on spirit magic? Specifically, spirit as the mythical fifth element?

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@Silver Carrot@Scyntell@SanaChan

---

How very, very convenient and generous of Lark to so brazenly hold his arms in front of him. As if Gellert would put cuffs on him. Oh, none of that. The Grey Wolf was not a guard, but a brute in man's clothing. Who needs cuffs when you can break and/or dismember criminals' arms so they can never run away and/or commit crimes until their dying breath? This sort of grim pragmatism was exactly what earned him such a bloody reputation. For the most part, he knew neither mercy nor restraint when it came to eradicating the scum of the earth. Indeed, Lark would get neither of the two in the Grey Wolf's care.

But it would be bad sport to inform him of that so early, would it not?

Gripping tight both of Lark's arms, Gellert turned him over and held them against his back. A rough movement that probably felt just as uncomfortable as a punch to the head. Thus the Grey Wolf held him like this, a prisoner of his own. People who have seen him perform a capturing maneuver like this to another, that person would soon be executed, with blade or otherwise. But surely Gellert knew better than to kill a child in the open. Surely.

"Let me tell you something you should already have known, young man," Gellert muttered in the boy's ear. "There is no bounty on you. I don't need one to end your criminal activities for a wolf does as the wolf pleases." Lark having said his goodbyes to his....children, the Wolf walked with him in tow, escorting him out of the Rogues Gallery to who knows where. On the way out, he was met with someone who was clearly judging him for what he just did. A Lycan, too, if her scent spoke of anything. There was another wolf here in Wellborough? Either she was a wanderer like that Fae girl who tried to skadoosh him or the old wolf's memory was failing him again.

"Forgive me, pup, but who are you?" The tone did not deliver it, but that was an honest question. Gellert legitimately had no idea who this she-wolf was and frankly, could not be buggered enough to know right now. He resumed to escort Lark out and soon the Rogues Gallery was left to its own business. A collective sigh of relief was to be had for sure; they could've faced a massacre if that thief had spoken anything out of line.

Walking their way out of the Lawless Zone, people looked at Gellert with even more incredulous look. Never had they thought that Lark Sylvsson would be apprehended in their lifetime, yet here he was. In the custody of Wellborough's Grey Wolf. Most thought that he would carry the boy to the Guards, but they would be wrong.

He was in fact taken to the Markets.

To a certain food stall. The stall whose owner Lark had robbed earlier today. The man looked nothing less than flabbergasted at the sight of his robber. He never thought the Grey Wolf would be serious about capturing him. Gellert brought Lark close to said man, not letting him off of his iron-tight grasp. "You bastard! Stealing from me was your last mistake!" he shouted at the boy as he shook him up as best he could.

"How much money did you steal from this nice, honest man?" The Grey Wolf asked him with dead seriousness. Lark had better answer this question honestly. And the vendor had better not try to profit from this, either. Lest there would be two corpses he'd have to deal with.

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Ayy Lumao

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@Scyntell I'm totally breaking Lark's arms. And legs, too, if he's gonna whine about it. How fine is this with you?

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My bad boys I'll try and get a post up tonight if my body cooperates

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I wasn't paying attention to the OOC, so when I saw @SanaChan's post I was like, "Who's Nyx?"

In fact, I will have Gellert react the same way.

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@Silver Carrot@Scyntell

---

"Get away from Lark you stinking dog before I turn you into a pincushion." The moment Gellert heard the telltale clicking of a crossbow, his hand immediately moved to grip the hilt of Dire out of instinct. That dirty little boy would've met steel hallowed with Fae craftsmanship were it not for his 'guardian' calling him to stand down.

If the Grey Wolf could give Lark Sylvsson credit for anything, it had to be for hiding his fear so expertly beneath a guise of the man of advantage. Prior to making his move, Gellert had decided to allow a few words out of his prey before arresting him proper, in case he needed to make a few last request or beg for mercy. Turns out they were wasted on petty boasts and threats most likely to be empty, even going so far to appeal to the old man's nonexistent thirst for riches. It was at that moment, when he offered the deal, that the Grey Wolf saw desperation incarnate.

The Rogues' Gallery was filled with the most uneasy of silences for a moment until Gellert defiantly unsheathed Dire and slashed forward at...the coin purse, all in a swift motion encapsulating barely a second. Gold pieces rained down onto the dilapidated tavern floor, making those endearing clinking metallic sounds that men and women of greed seemed to never tire of hearing. The blade missed Lark's anything entirely; the thief was left intact and would presumably only feel a tuft of wind and the sudden spike of adrenaline.

"By what means does a bird who thirsts for riches tempt the wolf who thirsts for blood?" Gellert asked the boy, resting the sharp end of Dire on his shoulder as if knighting him. "You mistake my profession for my desire, boy. The bounty on your head cannot be paid by mere coin. Only with justice long overdue. Now, come with me if you want this to end well for you, me and everyone under this roof, really." He sheathed Dire on his backstrap and held out his hand invitingly to Lark. This was his first and last chance at a completely peaceful arrest that involved no violence whatsoever and chances were, the boy knew it. Whether he'd take the chance as it came was up to his immature mind.

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@Silver Carrot@Scyntell

---

Ah, the girl was an observant one. Gellert made efforts to conceal his shapeshifting powers purely to surprise his enemies. In his mind, there was little harm in her knowing of his powers. Except if she blabbed to every bandit this side of Terra, but that seemed unlikely. Regardless, now his memory was refreshed. Back in the woods when Gellert was ripping the Strong-Arm's guts open, he had just barely caught the presence of a scared individual. As it turns out, that had been this Fae in front of him.

"So that was you back there," the Grey Wolf said simply. "In any case, you've made the right choice in making yourself unseen, young madam. I could've easily mistaken you for one of his accomplices and you would not be standing here now." He rose from the crates and began walking away, but turned back towards that Fae girl.

"It is magic, by the way. I am a shapeshifter. Were it not for the anti-magic runes surrounding this city, I could demonstrate." Gellert left the girl there to ponder over what he had said. If she had not been a Fae, he surely would not have been so open with his secrets. He fully expected her to trail behind him, to steal away another conversation or otherwise. The Grey Wolf shall not grant her the satisfaction, even if she was a Fae.

The lowlifes that infested the 'Lawless' parts of town had nary a watering hole to frequent but the Rogues Gallery. According to Gellert's keen instincts, there was a high chance his prey would be lurking there. If not, then he could always find someone who knew, and beat that information out of them. Passing through the dirty, unsanitary alleys, the Grey Wolf was met with various expressions of disdain, distrust and especially fear. Despite him not being a guard, Gellert's presence carried a sense of law, at the very least an aversion to crime. He killed criminals for a living, after all. And mercilessly, too. And such a presence probably might not be wanted in the so-called Lawless Zone.

The Grey Wolf walked into this miserable ruin of a tavern, greeted with a stunned silence. The whole of the Rogues Gallery seemed paralyzed as he made an entrance. And guess who was among them. Maintaining a grimly neutral expression, Gellert slowly walked to his target, like how a real wolf would circle its prey. But, you know, in a straight line.

"Lark Sylvsson. Thief, burglar and extortionist," the Grey Wolf sternly uttered out for him and everyone else to hear. His voice was that of a man ready to kill. He always sounded like that, granted. "You are to come with me and be served justice. Do so calmly and peacefully, please, I've already had to mutilate one criminal this morning." Though he appeared still, Gellert was fully ready for a chase...or a slaughter.