Snagglepuss89

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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Lawrence, Lizzy, and Rosa

A familiar face?

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What am I even still doing here?

It wasn't exactly a question that needed an answer. Lawrence was here because he had to be, it was no more of a mystery than that. He had always expected to become a staff mage, but it was looking more and more like that option had been eliminated from his future. USARILN was determined to keep him with this team, in spite of both his lack of ability and their lack of desire to have him around.

It was the latter though that seemed to gnaw on him the most.

Sprawled out on his bed with Lizzy laying over top of him- the dog had seemed far more attached to him since arriving on the island, and he welcomed the company- Lawrence slowly traced a circle around his chest where the hole that almost killed him once was. Ironically it was one of his only injuries over the past year that hadn't left a scar- with more minor ones having been treated the old fashioned way. Something about that felt like it cheapened the experience somehow, but he wasn't exactly liable to forget about it without a visual reminder.

In truth though, dying only somewhat bothered him (In fact, feeling that ocean of power trickle into him once more during the experience bothered him far more). It was something he was resigned to with every mission, even if he would prevent it as much as he possibly could. However, it had made abundantly clear how much of an outsider he was in this team. How many of them had visited him as he recovered? It seemed that nobody had bothered to approach him for advice or even a chat since his injury had healed. All the while they continued to meet up with each other and tried to forge bonds outside of their missions without him.

Was he really the least desirable person here?

It had been eating at him more and more over the past week or so. If the others were all getting together in their spare time, then it meant the problem rested with him. Sure, when it was his own class the distance between them had been bearable, there had been Elizabeth to wash away any loneliness. After her death, the time alone had become a comfort to deal with his grief. However now...

Now his grieving had mostly passed, and Elizabeth was still gone. All that remained was the loneliness.

Solid stoicism, neutrality, and a distance from others had pushed everyone away too far, and now even if the others didn't need Lawrence, he had need of them. He hadn't died, and now his life needed to be filled with something. Otherwise he might end it himself eventually. So here he was in his room, trying to at least partially break down that mental wall he had set up, and for the most part failing. Each time cracks began to show, an uncomfortable flood of stress threatened to break through, and he closed them up once more. He needed something to replace that coping mechanism, and while others may have thought he'd caught a cold lately the lingering scent of cigarette smoke betrayed a different cause for his coughing fits.

It hadn't been working out so far, and he was almost committed to ending the idea and trying to move on as he always had.

Idly he glanced at his phone, one of his most neglected possessions. After all, who had tried to call him over this past month? Still, he noticed a small icon in the upper corner of the screen that he was unfamiliar with. And upon further inspection saw;

Unread Texts: 45

Missed Calls: 7

Huh.

And as if on cue it began to buzz for an incoming call before he could even check any of his backlog. Quickly he pressed answer and put it to his ear.

“Lawrence.”

"Finally!" Rosa's exasperated voice on the other end of the line was loud--even louder than the woman's usually chipper, exuberant volume. "I've been trying to reach you privately ever since Wisford! This isn't talk for the cuffs and I know you weren't unconscious the entire time--do you have any idea what's been happening with that group?"

At the mention of Wisford Lawrence grimaced on the other end of the line and paused, looking to Lizzy as if she could somehow help him during this conversation. As if sensing his motives, she turned her face away with a huff and pretended to fall asleep on top of him.

With a sigh, he finally responded;

“Vaguely. Is that what you're calling me for? A status update?”

"Yeah, a bit! You're supposed to be watching out for them--or at least not letting them kill over sixty civilians in a fit of panic! I realize ever since Elizabeth you've been less than involved with anyone and anything, but at least pretend you have powers, Lawrence!"

“I've offered them my help Rosa, none of them have decided that it's needed and I sure as hell can't force them to accept it. If you're asking me to use my power to manipulate their free will-”

He was beginning to grow angry at the conversation in very short order, raising his volume to match hers.

“- I didn't sign up to be your mind rapist Rosa, you or Zhang! You want to force them to stop then use the goddamn anklets you fastened to everybody!”

Lizzy lifted one ear slightly at the outburst but otherwise continued with her charade. More quietly Lawrence continued;

“If you think I want to let people die Rosa you're more wrong than you've ever been- but I'm not going to force this team to do anything, they need to...”

What exactly? He trailed off, uncertain. It was the same problem he'd been working at since his injury without an answer.

"They are waaay too inexperienced for some of these situations and you know it! Helping someone calm down either with words or with your power would have done wonders, but if you want to call every instance of helping potential rape I guess that's that, huh? Wisford was one thing, but DC was entirely unprecedented and that's where they needed you most, even if they didn't ask for it! These are excuses, Lawrence. You know why you're on this team!"

Don't act like I'm shirking some kind of responsibility. You forced me away from my class and shoved me with these guys expecting me to babysit them- so pardon fucking me if I haven't stepped into the role.”

With that he ended the call in irritation and tossed the phone across the room- noting with annoyance that it didn't break. Still, if he was trying to seal up any cracks they were thoroughly leaking now. Grabbing the half empty pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, he soon descended into another fit of coughing as the foreign smoke entered his lungs. Supposedly they helped people with stress, but he was having a hard time seeing how.

In the corner his phone buzzed once more, and Lizzy lifted her head to look at it. Turning her gaze from the device to Lawrence and back again, clearly judging. He was tempted to answer it once more, but was far more tempted to avoid it.

“Get off.”

He growled at the dog, and stood up as soon as she'd hopped off of him and the bed. No, instead of answering the phone he'd go for a walk. His lungs needed some fresh air in them after his attempts to pick up a new habit, and his stomach needed some coffee in it.

Air and coffee.

Especially coffee.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Ladies and gentlemen: Our GM.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Las and I are in a collab at the moment, so do the math on whether we're here or not yourself.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

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Well. Things had been… eventful since Phirra’s arrival, certainly. A goblin and his entourage making her entrance look boring, something happening between the girl and the half-dragon, and now a young man… woman… person had just teleported in and collapsed on the floor. At least it wasn’t boring, she supposed.

Of all the Knights, it seemed only herself and three others were human. Of those, one was a giant who never left the side of another. Phirra wasn’t going anywhere near either of them any time soon, not unless she had to. That only left one. Following that train of thought, it wasn’t a difficult decision to approach them and strike up a conversation.

“Our Mighty Lord has assembled quite the collection, hasn’t he?” She asked them, using the title ironically, though in fact she was more than slightly afraid of him. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, saying “I think you missed my introduction, I’m Phirra Darnos, and probably the single least likely person to kill you in this room.”

You mean aside from me, right?

Emerson would have voiced the thought out loud if able to, instead what came out was a strangled cough as the startled mage's meal tried to force itself down his windpipe. For a moment she struggled for air, some rare colour entering his face from the strain, before rational thought reminded him that she was indeed a wizard, and magic soon forced the obstruction down its proper path. With embarrassment and unease fighting each other for dominance, The Prodigy offered an awkward laugh as he sized up Phirra.

“Ajeshna?”

It was the first thought that came to Emerson upon looking at the dark skinned woman, although it was perhaps a foolish assumption. Still, if true it was a big comfort knowing that someone else from a foreign land was among the Knights, even though Emerson herself had lived right on the border. Truthfully, the mage had met extremely few people from the faraway land, but Aurelius had often spoken of many acquaintances he'd made among their artificers. The world of magical research was a strangely close knit one.

Having at least enough social grace to realize studying the woman so closely was probably rude, Emerson put down the fork she was holding and extended a hand.

“E-Emerson Pèlerin. How likely is least likely though? I don't think L-Lancelot is gathering a bunch of pacifists.”

Quietly the mage cursed the tremor in his voice, but it couldn't be helped. She was still recovering from the choking incident, still frightened, and most importantly still exhausted. There would be future days to work on his solid “Knight of Evil” reputation.

Phirra shook the offered hand, saying “Least likely, for me, is about 100% if you attempt to do the same to me, 100% if you attempt to do so towards another Knight, whether successful or otherwise, though if I would kill them, I’m probably also okay with you killing them.” Phirra took a seat next to Emerson as she spoke. “Outside of those situations, it’s a solid 0%. And yes, I am from Ajeshna, though it was a different country when it was my home.”

Emerson was definitely an interesting character to Phirra. Stuttering was not, in her experience, an effective way to convey capability, especially when surrounded by nearly two dozen of the most dangerous people alive. However, Emerson had been invited here, by Lancelot. Obviously they had some kind of use to him that not just anyone has. Useful enough to be worth going out of his way to contact and cater for them. More interesting, though, was the fact that Emerson had accepted the invite. Every creature that had attended had their own motive, few of them noble, yet Emerson did not strike Phirra as the villainous type.

There are many ways to learn something, and the easiest is to ask questions. As such, Phirra asked a question.

“So why accept Lancelot’s invitation? I don’t think a single person in this room is here just to be part of the fan club.”

The directness of the woman caught him off guard, and Emerson quickly shoved some food into his mouth to buy some time to think. It wasn't exactly a situation that could be summed up easily, the invitation wasn't even initially meant for her, and she was sure Aurelius would have felt much more at home with these people than his pupil did. Still, would the truth even be worth telling? In any other circle professing to being a murderer wasn't exactly something one could do casually, but Phirra had already thrown around the possibility of killing like it was no big deal at all to discuss. Mulling it over a moment longer after swallowing, the mage tried to explain the situation as simply as possible.

“I killed the person that the i-invitation was meant for. If I didn't become Lancelot's friend I would be his enemy right now. Accepting... accepting seemed like it was the better long term strategy.”

You could almost hear the click that went off in Phirra’s head at that moment, like when you finally realize the answer to a particularly tough puzzle, and suddenly the whole thing seems easy. It completely explained Emerson’s apparent lack of self-confidence - someone forced into this kind of situation was bound to react differently to someone with the security available to refuse if they wanted. In fact, it seemed likely that there were others out there who had also received invitations but had declined.

“You’re probably right about that. I can’t see many places holding out against Lancelot for long, and though I don’t know him very well, these kind of leaders can be very black and white when it comes to who’s on whose side. Still, it isn’t especially safe here, either. But, like I said, as long as you don’t cause me or anyone else any trouble, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Phirra decided it was about time to head to her quarters. She stood up, saying “Well, I guess I’ll see around, Emerson. I quite like you, so don’t die for the time being, if that’s okay with you.” And with that odd comment, Phirra left for her room.

It was nice enough, certainly. Obviously an effort had been made (though more likely by a servant than by anyone of importance), but it wasn’t to Phirra’s tastes. Apparently, though, Lancelot was aware of her… abnormal requirements and made sure to include a balcony. She moved her Ether Harvester, which been left in her room as requested, onto the balcony, set it running, then went to sleep.

For Emerson’s part, she quietly finished eating after the artificer had left, embarrassment and unease both replaced by a pleasant tingling spreading across his body. Phirra… liked her? The notion of course carried no romantic context, but the mage had never heard another person enjoy her company during his brief childhood on the streets. And the sort of enjoyment Aurelius derived from her company made her skin crawl rather than tingle.

Maybe… maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

The Prodigy was of course exhausted, but this new interaction had awoken a desire to at least try to get to know some of his new peers. The least frightening ones at least. While he was confident in his ability to defend himself, Phirra was right in that being here was dangerous, especially for a normal and quite fragile human. So quietly, not trying to stare too intently, he swept his eyes cross her remaining peers, and caught a certain soaking wet man quietly making his way from the room. Looks could be deceiving, but he at least didn’t seem too bad, even if he wasn’t as outright welcoming as Phirra had been.

Set on her course, and confident he still had the energy to make an escape if this turned out to be a horribly misplaced judgement, Emerson quietly set after the soaked individual. As quietly as an urchin slipping after a mark.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

While not the most active in the world, there is more activity on the Discord than the OOC for those worried about the lack of posting in the thread itself. As a head's up.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Didn't quite want to force an interaction with anybody when it looks like the scene is starting to end, so I left the post pretty open to either collab or move on from.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Emerson L. Pèlerin

"The Prodigy"

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I don't belong here.

It was a thought that had been creeping into Emerson's head more and more often as she made her way across the countryside of Lancelot's domain. As someone who had grown up on the other side of the border, he'd always had an outsider's view of the evil domain. Sure, whispers and rumors spoke of what lurked in the shadows of this land, but it was somehow... distant. Now though The Prodigy caught glimpses of evil shapes across the landscape, hiding in the crags of mountains, scurrying through the trees. Still, none bothered him during her journey, almost as if Lancelot had demanded personally that she reached her destination unharmed.

Whatever the case was, it made for an uneasy trip. For the majority of it Emerson tried to float at a running pace, spending her time both taking in the sights of her new home, and imbuing the outfit he had chosen as her uniform (If indeed Lancelot himself chose not to provide one, which would be disappointing) with some minor magic. A slow process, having to go through every single thread and enchant them individually, but one that the mage had two whole days to spend it on.

When the uniform was finished though Emerson realized she was taking far too much time with the adventure, and that Moonlake Keep was a much greater distance from the border than he had first realized. For the last half a day, once every hour, the countryside echoed faintly with a cry of “Seeya Joe, gotta go!” as the Prodigy zipped for miles across the landscape at a time. The final one had brought Emerson through the room's giant window, unnoticed as Lancelot commanded the attention of all gathered.

He lay collapsed against the wall, struggling not to pass out from exhaustion as their new leader introduced himself- the mage having not missed much of the meeting at all. Still, while Lancelot commanded an impressive presence, The Prodigy couldn't help but look across the room from his vantage point and look over his new peers.

I don't belong here.

Emerson felt more like a sheep among wolves than one of the most powerful mages currently living. Some of those present were quite clearly monsters, and others certainly gave off the presence of being such under their armor and clothing. She was not completely foreign to the concept of course, being one dedicated to the magical arts, but personal experience with anything other than Humans was something he distinctly lacked.

These are my peers now.

It was that thought which settled the mental debate over Emerson's current situation. They were his peers, and that meant Lancelot considered him to at least be equal to them. With strength slowly returning to her limbs she quietly listened to their leader finish speaking, and at his departure struggled to stand.

She didn't quite manage it.

With a small sigh Emerson contented to watching his fellow knights for a few minutes more. The initial horror she had felt was slowly giving way to curiosity as she observed them, and was especially piqued by the half-dragon and Camilla. There was certainly magic at work there, and not the kind Emerson had much knowledge with. Other than the spell he had prepared especially for Aurelius, The Prodigy shied away from magics directly affecting the body. The experimentation process was simply too messy, and unreliable without test subjects. While he was sure that many of his peers in this room wouldn't have any qualms about experimenting on living things, torture was not something that appealed to Emerson.

Pushing those grim thoughts out of her head, she tried to stand once more- with far more success. Wishing that he had decided to wear the uniform that had been prepared on the road- instead being garbed in a simple shirt and pants that was common fashion among the middle classes of Nell Egg- and that she had chosen a more dignified color than pink for her hair that morning, Emerson finally made her way down the stairs and to the table in the center of the room. Acting as casually as possible she put together a light meal to quell the appetite she had worked up on the road, and battled an urge to socialize with a desire to be ignored entirely by the monsters around him.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Emerson

Emerson L. Pèlerin

If any, usually “The Prodigy”. Particularly foolish people might refer to him as “The Sage” however.

General description

Race

Human

Age

17

Size

5'1”, 95lb

Gender

Both? Neither? It's something Emerson prefers not to dwell on.

Sexuality

Anti-Sexual

Religion

Absolutely none, unless the pursuit of knowledge can be called a religion.

Job

Living Artillery

Personality

Emerson is in actuality quite social in spite of both his past life on the streets, and his shut in years of research and magical practice. Perhaps it was because of this shut in lifestyle that she developed a habit of seeking out company, even if she prefers to read or otherwise occupy himself while carrying on a conversation. A lack of... experience in this department and a bizarre sense of humor means that she does personify social awkwardness.

On top of this, while she loves talking about her research into the magical arts, she's bizarrely tight lipped about his actual years as an apprentice, though that is hardly surprising given the nature of her upbringing. He is only slightly less distant about her years living on the streets of Knell Egg, clearly much more interested in staying in the present. Luckily, at least as far as he assumes, his fellow Knights will probably have no interest in exchanging personal details. Their business was to be war, not friend finding.

Clearly though she has a deep love for what she does. In spite of taking incredible effort to cast even the smallest amount of magic, he does so with great joy. When fatigue inevitably overtakes him from the strain of his actions, Emerson passes out with a smile on her face, clearly enjoying a satisfying slumber. How long it takes him to recover varies, from minutes to even days at the largest extremes, but one will never hear him complain about the fact. His duties in carrying out the will of Lancelot however weigh far more heavily on her, and it is only by ignoring the reality of what her magic is being used for that she can still revel in it.

Biography

Emerson grew up like many of the urchins lining the streets of Knell Egg: Poorly. Although her lack of nutrition wasn't due to any absence in talent as a thief. Indeed, had he chosen her belly would have never been left wanting in those years. However, he put those talents to far better use (at least in her mind): The theft of books. Literacy wasn't something common amongst his kind, so he traded favors in exchange for education. Food and baubles were exchanged for knowledge, which awakened a voracity in her that still has yet to be quenched. One day a drunk and lost man stumbled upon her hidden library in the alleys of Knell Egg, and recognized her potential as a student. That man was Aurelius The Sage, one of the greatest researchers of the arcane arts since Merlin.

For almost ten years to the day Emerson served under the man, attacking Aurelius' library of research like a starved animal. However, there was one slight speed bump in Emerson's road to magehood: he was almost entirely lacking in talent for the magical arts. Every spell cast felt like swimming against a raging river, and rarely could he perform more than one such feat per day. However, the results were always both precise and powerful. Emerson seemed to grasp the science behind the magical arts like few others. How exactly to coax the power latent in the world around her and change it to suit his needs. Within the (admittedly small) world of magical research, Emerson was hailed as a prodigy, more than capable of even surpassing her teacher.

However while it was true that Aurelius recognized Emerson's potential as a pupil, it was far darker interests that compelled the man to take the urchin under his wing. It was known that Aurelius had never taken a wife or a lover in all his years and dismissed as being far too absorbed in his work. In truth, his tastes were simply the kind that could not be displayed in public. Forced to choose between being thrown to the streets and cut off from any opportunity to learn magic, and putting up with The Sage's perversions, Emerson chose the latter. Ten years of disgust and humiliation in exchange for knowledge that his old life had no chance of teaching him.

There was nothing special in particular about the day Emerson killed her master. The Sage walked into her room, and it was suddenly the last straw, and in an instant The Prodigy unleashed the spell he had been crafting in anticipation for the moment of vengeance. In an instant Aurelius the Sage turned into a horrifying visage of his former self, as his body was turned inside out, with his screams echoing throughout the empty mansion until he passed out from shock and pain.

It was not much longer before the pupil set fire to her former master, and Aurelius the Sage mercifully died.

Emerson stayed there for a time, savoring the moment, before making for the door. He knew there would only be one suspect for the murder, and even if lesser crimes were often overlooked in this dark age, the murder of one of the most well known mages in the land would spark retribution. Still, this was a price that she had decided long ago would be worth paying, and it was with determination that she began to leave the room, intent on getting a head start on any authorities before they showed up. However, she was stopped by a voice. Aurelius' voice, calling out from behind her.

“What? Killed by his own pupil? That's almost as funny as it is disappointing.”

It was then that the corpse, with its burnt and inverted flesh, turned towards its murderer, with a quiet chuckle echoing throughout the small room.

“Lancelot is gathering capable individuals to act as the Knights to carry out his will. Aurelius was about to receive such an invitation, but I now extend it to you as his successor. Head to Moonlake castle immediately, do not delay. This... incident will be overlooked if you comply, otherwise you may try your luck at running if you dare.”

It, ultimately, was not a hard decision to make. Sparing only the time to gather his backpack and clothes, Emerson left the home that for better or worse had grown up in. Setting off towards Moonlake, and trying to avoid unease at his decision at joining what he could only suspect would be an army of the damned.

Appearance

Appearance

Emerson's appearance depends entirely on how he prefers presenting herself from one day to the next. With plenty of outfits to give off both a masculine and feminine appearance, it's a toss up depending on her mood and how long he's portrayed himself as one gender or the other. His life on the run has instilled a habit of very frequently changing things up, in order to keep the heat off his back. On top of this, her hair color also changes daily, almost a source of pride for Emerson. He started training her magical endurance a decade ago by changing one strand at a time until he passed out from the effort. It's still a tiring task, but part of her daily regiment.

Other than Emerson's extreme androgyny, there are a few other features that are distinguishable. While attractive there are signs of malnourishment present, she's not quite dangerously thin, yet, but it's clear that eating has either been impossible or of a lesser priority for some time. On top of this he's quite short, perhaps a result of stunted growth throughout her youth. Whatever the reason, Emerson barely breaks five foot on a good day, tiptoes or not. If pointed out, she would usually deflect by saying all of his growth went into his brain.

Magical runes can also usually be seen running up and down the length of both arms, notes taken when inspiration strikes and the parchment in his backpack is too far away to bother retrieving.

Still, in spite of his love for fashionistic freedom when performing duties as a Knight, Emerson dons the set of robes she's chosen to act as her uniform. An outfit that almost seems to distort his appearance, making her seem taller somehow, and more demanding of respect. Though likely an act, his personality also changes to match his role, becoming far more cold and serious. It is likely a mask he wears, but it is one she wears well.

Traits and Equipment

Spell list

• Elemental Bolt
  
  The most basic of all Emerson's spells, and extraordinary only in the speed in which they can be sent out. A ball about a foot in diameter of either Water, Fire, or Lighting shoots out of her hands. Limited only by her endurance, Emerson can send out twenty of these in a minute before succumbing to complete exhaustion, although if paced he can keep up the barrage indefinitely.
• Elemental Wave
  
  The more powerful, and subsequently more exhausting version of Elemental ball. A trivial upgrade in terms of creativity, but with undeniable effectiveness. The ball is increased to a full six feet in diameter, and detonates in a shockwave upon reaching its destination. Still, Emerson can only cast them a tenth as often as the former, and will soon require rest at a pace of two a minute.
• Elemental Storm
  
  
  A very difficult spell to quantify in size and scope. Whether it is affecting an area the size of a house, or the size of a city. Equally, whether projectiles the size of raindrops or Elemental Bolts are falling have wildly different effects on Emerson. Suffice to say though, the situations in which he'd use this over other spells demand a large affect, and it's very likely she'll be knocked out for days after summoning so much magical energy. The time to cast, too, would scale with the size, needing a full hour at its largest to prepare.
• Fleet of Foot
  
  Another simple spell in design, and common enough among even mages of moderate strength. The time to cast is only as long as it takes Emerson to click her heels together three times, and lasts as long as she can keep moving in one burst. While active, he is able to take ten steps for every one that his unenchanted body could muster.
• Relocation
  
  With a bizarre chant of “Seeya Joe, gotta go” Emerson is able to teleport himself to any location within eyesight, a distance that can be either extremely short indoors, or incredibly far if up in the air. The space needs to be safe however, because after arriving she'll be unable to move from exhaustion for ten full minutes, let alone be able to cast the spell again. Once per hour is the absolute limit for its use.
• Home Sweet Home
  
  A more powerful version of the above, where Emerson is instantly able to travel away from danger and back to the safety of a magical circle drawn in his laboratory. Still, while generally safer this is a much more tiring endeavor than teleporting to a space she can see. After an hour Emerson will be well enough to move around, but won't be able to cast all but the simplest spells until half a day has passed, or a full night's rest.
• Earthen Chains
  
  Emerson causes the ground itself to rise up and bind a target, encasing them in a series of rock chains that eventually weave themselves into a cocoon made of the earth. While not impossible to break out of for one of immense strength, the immobilization provides a great opportunity to dispose of the encased opponent in the meantime, or quickly flee. Emerson has never had to use it more than once, but an estimation would place it between an Elemental Bolt and Elemental Wave in fatigue.
• Force Field
  
  Another spell that varies in the time and energy it takes to prepare. Starting with a magic circle, Emerson then proceeds to draw in runes an outline of the area she wishes to ward. Every inch drawn requires an infusion of magical energy, as well as a small amount to maintain afterwards. Still, once prepared the only thing that may pass through is Emerson himself, and with a large expense of energy (more than enough to knock him out for a day) the field can be made permanent, at least until an especially strong magical spell is flung at it or Emerson dismisses it herself. If drawn into a box or circle a roof is added automatically, otherwise the wall stands open at the top, fifty feet from the ground.
• Plasma Beam
  
  Emerson's greatest breakthrough in the study of “normal” magic. A distillation of pure energy that shoots forth from his hand, in a beam that is only stopped once it hits the earth itself, however far in the distance that may be. Put simply, nothing the mage has ever tested it on has failed to sport a new hole running all the way through it, although he rarely has time to admire its effect before passing out. It is perhaps the most singularly deadly spell a mage could employ against a single target, or more if they could manage to maintain the beam long enough to sweep it from side to side. For her part, Emerson does not possess the reserves of energy needed for the attempt.
• Anti-Elemental Bolt/Wave
  
  While almost identical to their elemental counterparts to a lay man, there are a few differences. As with all anti-magic their form is unstable in the material world. Unlike the seemingly limitless range of their normal counterparts, these cannot maintain their form for more than a hundred feet before dissipating. Still, each contains a magnitude more energy than their material counterparts, and should they encounter magic or the normal form of their element (Lightning in particular almost always interacts with static electricity) they explode with devastating results. Almost certainly annihilating anything in a diameter ten times the size of the anti-magic's original diameter. With such a high concentration of energy required each can only be used one tenth as often as their original counterparts.
• Anti-Earth Orb
  
  Ultimately the most powerful spell the Emerson possesses, the use of which might be enough to kill her if she's used even the slightest amount of her magical reserves beforehand. In the sky, a large ball of Anti-earth collects and begins descending towards the ground. At five hundred feet in diameter the annihilation of everything within a mile is all but assured, and it is this destructive capability that has truly earned Emerson his place among the knights. Such power causes great fear, even if it leaves its user vulnerable for days after use. In preparation she must begin siphoning her magical energies an hour ahead of time, and while the process can be interrupted, the attempt would be suicidal for all parties involved.
• Anti-Water Orb
  
  The original version of the above spell, tested by Emerson in secret in order to prove the concept. Identical in all aspects to the original, including the absurd toll it takes on his body. Truthfully Lancelot not had him followed (Long having his eye on Aurelius and his pupil before sending an invitation) and retrieved after the test she would have likely died of dehydration long before she awoke.
• Anti-Air Burst
  
  Emerson immediately conjures a ball of anti-air that explodes before it can even finish forming. Since the ball ultimately has very little substance before it reacts to the material world, the affect is minor compared to other anti-magic spells, more likely to stun a twenty foot area than kill anybody in it. It is half as tiring to use as the other anti-elemental balls, and fantastic for situations where killing a target isn't Emerson's goal.
• Anti-time field
  
  More than any other this spell is “experimental” in nature, insofar that it works, but Emerson has not been able to puzzle out how or why. Simply put, the area that is this deployed over experiences reversed momentum. The faster an object would be traveling the more it is slowed down compared to everything else, and vice versa. The spell does not seem to react to the material world like other anti-magic spells, and it's possible that one who knows what the spell is doing could use it to their advantage in a fight over an opponent who is caught off guard by the sudden reversal of the laws of physics. Emerson can maintain a hundred square feet of this field active for ten minutes, reducing the length of time it can be maintained by one minute per additional hundred feet. Like most magics if this limit is reached than he will need a period of rest afterwards before any other magic can be considered for casting.
• Anti-gravity
  
  Using the lessons learned from the above breakthrough, Emerson has devised a way to use this momentum reversal against the force of gravity itself, essentially enabling flight. It is, in actually, one of the less tiring magics at her disposal, able to maintain the reversal for hours as needed, at least when only affecting herself. The amount of time the spell can be maintained is divided by the number of people its affecting. Still, she has found it to be a convenient and fun way to continue training her magical endurance, and unless a mission is imminent he can often be seen floating without any need to.

This is simply a small selection of spells in the repertoire of a Prodigy known for inventing them. However, the vast majority have no practical use in combat, ranging from changing hair color, to making a person develop a sweet tooth. It is not merely the practical that interests Emerson, but spells of every kind.

Strengths/Skills/Talents

• Photographic Memory
  
  Emerson forgets nothing that he is taught, or reads. Events may pass by her notice, but that's usually because he is more absorbed in research than what's going on around her. Sadly this does not include idle thoughts that she might have throughout the day, and her arms are covered in notes to help her remember such musings later.
• Magical Prodigy
  
  Magic fascinates Emerson more than anything else in the world, and she's dedicated every spare moment of her young life to it's study, and practice. Moreso than just recreating existing spells and effects, he strives to invent new and creative ways to implement the powerful resource.
• Urchin's Skills
  
  While they've rusted since she was a child, Emerson's life growing up on the streets of Knell Egg has instilled a certain number of thieving talents. These are nowhere near the level of a livelong rogue, but noteworthy enough to include.
• Anti-Magician
  
  While not a talent all of its own, as the one who discovered anti-magic Emerson is its sole user in the world. This gives him a distinct edge over anybody used to fighting conventional magic that has not faced him before.

Weaknesses

• Bereft of Talent
  
  An almost complete lack of natural affinity for magic means that it's use taxes Emerson to the extreme. Often only one or two spells of even moderate potency will knock him out, or otherwise drain her completely of energy.
• Poor Eater
  
  Whether due to circumstances or choice, food has never been something Emerson has had in abundance. While this has affected her strength less than one might expect (Just try lifting her backpack) he tires easily when straining himself with non magical tasks as well. This, however, is much less extreme than his magical lack of endurance.
• Punch-Clock Villain
  
  Emerson, despite being one of Lancelot's knights, is not inherently a bad person, nor takes any joy or pride in his work. Her service is effectively only out of self preservation, to make the best out of the hand that life chose to deal him. A... very poor hand overall. In different circumstances he might have even fought against Lancelot, but even at her young age she's convinced that her life has no other path at this point.

Equipment

• Robes of Office
  
  The outfit Emerson dons when on official business as one of Lancelot's knights. When worn, his features become almost imperceptibly distorted, and he gives the impression of being distinctively taller and more imposing than her normal appearance.
  
  

Artifact

The Spell Pearls

A necklace consisting of five large pearls that can be easily removed. Each of which is able to store a spell that can be cast by crushing the pearl at a later time. As a secondary function, if a pearl is eaten the energy spent in casting the original stored spell is transferred into the consumer, at a slight loss of efficiency.

Relationships

Other

The Destined (Soulmate RP)

Clearly I'm not here, I just hang around in the Discord for the free food.

The Destined (Soulmate RP)

Still here! Sorry, it's been weird lately. Getting on a computer to write has been hard. @Not Fishing I'm ready to go when you are. Do you wanna start the document?

In other news, we set up a Discord server! Please join. It'll make interactions waaaay easier.

@deyinger

Quoting this here in case it gets lost as the last post on the previous page.