Hanging about the bar, stirring a drink with a small red umbrella. There was the barest of smiles on his lips as he watched the various interactions in the room, humming softly as he did so. Broker had given him permission to use his power, but he would play it safe, he'd decided. There was, after all, a distinct possibility that there was someone in the room who could identify the presence of his power.
He would rather not tip his hand.
So it was that he remained apart from those in the room and simply watched, for once...almost silent. He was biding his time.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa
It had a rough and emotional—if fairly uneventful—three weeks since the incident at the warehouse. She was in full costume with the attention of many fans, if not so many who apprecaited her personally. She told herself it was because she was one of the newest wards, with only two missions under her belt, but even Lillian had more people come up to her than she had.
It grated.
Smiling, she still occasionally managed to get lost in the adoration and idolization and occasionally the recognition of those few fans who understood her name and had hung on every tidbit of news about her. It seemed that the PRT had done a decent job controlling the story about the warehouse to some degree as more often than not those who approached her personally—rather than to just fill some quota of getting all the Wards signatures—seemed to see her in an exceptionally positive light. When it was the little kids it made her smile warmly. Given that she was wearing a different mask, one for public appearances rather than the field, they could actually see it when she smiled.
She liked that. It was connection and it felt good. Even in the sometimes euphoric haze of attention she continually found her gaze drawn around the room to the other capes who had been allowed to make an appearance.
Every time she thought of one, the 'shadow' seemed to twitch and writhe in the foundation of the building where she was keeping it. It put a damper on things, but nothing could take away the little girl in her who wanted to go all doe eyed and squeal everytime she saw a hero.
She'd idolized some of these people as a little girl, and once she'd gotten her own powers and gotten past the trauma, she'd found herself far more obsessed than she had been before. Evelyn thought there was a good chance that a part of that obsession with capes was her power talking...rather than her.
It was a weird thought, but she didn't mind it too much.
A few times Evelyn snuck a little peak at another cape's powers using a hidden thread from her 'shadow' right through the floor. She felt a little bad when she did it, but not in a criminal way. It reminded her that she was only seventeen, it reminded her that it was okay to be a little naughty.
At the thought she couldn't help but let her eyes wander to a few of the other capes in the room. She bit her lip briefly at the thought. Man, that guy in black with the white boots was yummy. Swallowing hard, her eyes darted away, her cheeks—though largely hidden—reddened. Fortunately the Wards were approached by another cape, a case 53, and her appearance, not to mention her appearance served to distract her.
"Wow, you look amazing." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She brought a hand up and covered her mouth, embarrassed.
Outsider
Though the emotion had been mild, and still was, he'd found himself rather surprised that the Minutemen were invited to the event. He was glad for the publicity and used some of the time to build his image—though he did it in constume rather than in Second Vessel—and spread his name and willingness to help. He wanted to do hero work and he wanted to use his power to help others, not to mention give them a better impression than his other form tended to.
He found, to even greater surprise—though muddied bu its dullness—that he was actually well liked among those who knew him...and that more people than he thought would have, did in fact know him. It turned out that turning into a giant airborne sea monster made one pretty popular with the kids—at least those who weren't terrified.
So it was that he actually found himself smiling for much of his time, and not just the smallest of smirks, but an actual smile. He knew that the emotion must be more like jubilation than or intense joy to make him react so. It felt good.
Still, the whole thing was somewhat marred by the fact that he knew this might just be the last time the Minutemen were together, after all this was Kyoshi's last gig. They hadn't been close, but she was an asset and a good hero. He'd miss her.
Glancing about, though he never really strayed from their booth, Outsider sometimes caught people staring at him, less with the eyes of adoration that people tended to aim at heroes, and more with, well, want. It was weird to have so many women, even if most of them were a good few years younger than him, giving him so much attention. He supposed his costume did put an emphasis on his body, which was noticeably fit.
Good genes and significant exercise would do that to a guy. While not particularly uncomfortable, it was kind of weird when he noticed a member of the Wards, of all people, staring at him. Then again, maybe he'd been wrong, the girl was wearing a mask after all. Maybe she'd been looking at someone else.
Oh well.
Dismissing the thought, Outsider turned back to his booth just as some kids rushed up for pictures, begging him to come outside and change forms. Laughing for the first time in a little while, he told Kyoshi and G4M3R, before they tugged him away and he disappeared out the door.
Today was a good day, he decided. He hoped he could have more of them soon.
As they made their approach to the now not-so-far-off island, Lilli glanced over the work on the ship and checked up with the crew. Everyone seemed mostly fine, which was great because who knew what was gonna be on that isl---CANNONS!! Her eyes going absolutely huge as she saw the fort, the scientist ran to the prow and leaned over the edge, pushing herself forwards. She almost forgot herself and plunged overboard in her excitement. Dancing away from the prow she jumped and clapped her hands in glee. B-MO mirrored the action.
"Cannons!" she squealed excitedly. It looked like a marine fort, which was good, because the marines got stuff from Dr. Vegapunk and she wanted that stuff! Of course, things became less good as cannonballs found their way to the water. Just before the natives arrived she let B-MO's form shrank and hid itself beneath her clothes and in her body in an armor of sorts. There was no telling what they would face, but this time she wanted to hide her biggest advantage.
As the island's strange inhabitants greeted them, Lilli narrowed her eyes slightly and tilted her head--though her eyes still smiled. She managed to pick up on the fact that the crew of the other ship appeared to be their allies. It also became swiftly apparent that they were in dire straits. As Bonii-chan sidled closer to her she put her hand on his bony head and smiled down at him, her eyes all a glitter with wonder.
She was finally in the Grandline and even with this new challenge, she had NO intention of being stopped here.
"Well, we may as well join this contest of strength and skill," she said following Feya, Boone, and Caesar. they didn't have much choice. What she wondered was how unfairly skewed these tests would be...and whether the islanders would cheat.
She’d woken up under warm blankets feeling safe and comfortable in body, but the feeling had been swiftly replaced by a growing dread. She banished her projection and forced her to get up after ten minutes of convincing herself. Eating breakfast, doing homework, moving, taking a shower, the actions were mechanical. She was a step removed.
Eventually, with some prodding and encouragement, Evelyn’s mom managed to convince her to go to PRT HQ. Every second of the drive was filled with her mom’s easy sense of humor, trying to break the tension and distract her. It almost worked, but alas the haunting silver ‘shadow’ caught her eye and reminded her of the dread and where she was going...and why she was going there. When they pulled up, her mom turned off the engine and, seeing that her humor hadn’t helped, she got out of the car and got into the backseat with Evelyn.
For a moment the seventeen year old girl that she was struggled against the tight embrace of her mother, but that’s as long as it lasted, a moment. She didn’t cry. She wasn’t crying. Her eyes were just watering a lot. She wasn’t scared, those knots were just cramps...because she was growing up. That wasn’t a knot in her throat, she just had something small stuck in her throat.
After what was perhaps five minutes or twenty, her mother pulled away, but looked into Evelyn’s eyes and smiled.
“You’re brave. You get it from me. Your dad’s just a big ole’ bundle of nerves, but you’ve got my will of steel in you,” her mom said. Evelyn tried to look away, but her mom, Lily, Lil, Lilliana, Mom, gently turned her chin back and met her eyes again. She swallowed hard, but held the gaze this time.
“I don’t know mom. I don’t...I don’t feel like steel,” she said, her voice weak, strained from crying. Her mom squeezed her shoulder, “It’s okay sweetheart, my Evywevvy.” Evelyn laughed a little and for once didn’t tell her mom to stop. The shared a smile and it was warm and safe and full of compassion and understanding.
God she loved her mom.
They hugged again and her mom got out of the car. Evelyn followed. Brushing off her clothes she started towards the building, but her mom caught her shoulder, and she turned to look at her again. “It’s okay to be scared…” she began, but Evelyn spoke, joining in, “...but fear is the mindkiller, don’t be its next victim.” Her mother nodded and smiled, pride and love and trust in her amber eyes. Evelyn nodded, squaring her jaw, closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. When she opened them her mom let go of her shoulder and gave her a small nod.
Turning away she approached the building. Behind her, Lilliana called out, “Go get ‘em!” She couldn’t help but smile.
Entering PRT HQ, Evelyn nodded to some of the workers, spoke briefly with the receptionist and then headed deeper in. Her heartbeat gradually ramped up the closer she got to the Director’s office. Outside his door she had to work up some courage. Closing her eyes she internally recited the little mantra her parents had taught her over the years. It was the same one she’d said with her mom earlier.
It’d helped get her through a lot. It would help her get through this.
It had to.
She knocked on the door.
A firm voice responded without any pause or hesitation. ”It’s open, come on in.” As Evelyn entered, she was treated to the sight of Director Kens staring over numerous reports, both electronic and paper. It was more like he was staring through them, actually, with his glazed eyes covered in bags and dark rings. The director appeared to have not been sleeping much lately.
Noticing just who had entered his office, the director locked his computer screen and swept up the papers into a file, but she was able to catch sight of one in particular which was titled Notice of Action, which was addressed from the Youth Gard.
Once the documents were out of the way, Director Kens locked eyes with Evelyn. Though he maintained his composure and body language which screamed, ‘I’m the one in fucking charge,’ his eyes were softer than she’d ever seen before. His voice gentler. ”I’m glad you were able to come today, Miss Chambers. After what happened, I know that exploring more about your power must be… Troubling. Unfortunately we have to determine what happened, if it was outside interference or…” He hesitated a moment. Director Kens never hesitated before. He always said hesitation was weakness. ”If it was a natural consequence. And apart from that, yours is the power we have the least understanding of among the Wards. The experience may prove to even be therapeutic for you, Miss Chambers. At least, I hope it will.”
Director Kens took a moment to drink a bit of water he had sitting in a glass on his desk. Once that was done he continued, steeling himself. Gone was the softer man Evelyn had only just experienced for a scant few seconds, and returned was the tough bulldog that would tear a man’s legs off just to beat them with their own feet. ”You’ll be heading to the labs on the second floor. You should be meeting with Bret Linkton and Alina Brestoff, two of our parahuman studies experts. I trust that you will cooperate with them to the fullest. You are excused, Miss Chambers.”
Fiercely resisting her equally intense urges to chew her lip and break down at his show of kindness, Evelyn instead smiled, shifting into a mindset of his subordinate. She was a Ward, following orders. Still she ended up chewing her cheek slightly before nodding. “Thank you for your time and consideration sir. I’ll do my best,” she almost choked on the last words and, embarrassed she bowed slightly and then turned on her heel and fled the room.
With her directions firmly in mind she made her way to the second floor labs, but before she got there she reminded herself of her mother’s words and of the Director’s. She was still surprised that he’d been so...understanding. He’d always seemed like a hardass, if a reasonable one. It made her smile a bit, and were her eyes watering?
’Okay, so it’s a little touching, she thought to herself, smiling a little, before steeling herself and entering the lab.
“Mr. Linkton, Ms. Alina, reporting in for t-testing,” she swallowed hard as her awareness of the silver shadow--which was still many miles from that at present--shifted into the forefront of her mind.
The two expert were already preparing materials and equipment for the testing. Evelyn was greeted with the sight of Alina’s friendly smile, and Bret’s casual, yet non-confrontational, indifference. They seemed to be putting the finishing touches on some sort of cage made of glass? Hard plastic? Some transparent substance. It was barely large enough to contain an average sized person.
“Welcome, good morning!” Greeted Alina Brestoff. She waved the young Ward in. Bret Linkton escorted her in, taking her coat if needed, and explained the basics.
“Good to have you. We want to start by observing your projection manifested in an isolated environment. If you could please, create it in a relatively harmless form in the cage. Don’t give it any orders. We just want to observe it naturally. So to speak.”
“Thanks,” she said, rubbing her arm a bit, before she caught herself and nodded, “I...I think I can do that. Um…” she glanced around looking for materials then, taking in a deep breath she made sure her breathing was steady before she tapped into that part of her mind that controlled the projection. She willed it to draw near and immediately, its shadow was there, in the room with them, but something was a little different.
The shadow was filling the entire room. It was huge. Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to steady it again, even as tears welled in her eyes.
She shut them for a moment and recited her mom’s affirmation under her breath, willing the projection to a smaller form. It obeyed. She took stock, meticulously, of the materials it had scanned. She scrapped all but the most harmless materials she could find.
’Malleable/hard/soft(Clay).’
Those were the traits she set in place before shifting the ‘shadow’ into a humanoid shape only 4 feet tall, which she then placed into the designated space. She opened her eyes and looked to the two, “Alright, I’m gonna manifest it now.” She swallowed hard, equal parts fear and steel in her eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists and there was tension in her muscles despite her breathing being steady. She looked to the projection, it didn’t have any powers programmed in--though it appeared it had accidentally scanned a few. She only recognized a few of them.
“Go,” she said, willing it into being. She flinched away as the shadow phased into existence. It appeared like a dwarf made from grey clay, but without any notable defining features. It was one smooth surface, but despite it being made of clay, she knew it could move. Despite it not having any eyes or a nose or ears, she knew it could perceive its environment.
“H-how’s that?” She asked, clearly nervous. Despite all her efforts there was a pit in her stomach and she felt just a little bit nauseous.
The younger woman jotted down some observations and fiddled with some of the computer systems in the room. After a few seconds she gave a thumbs up to her colleague. The older man however did not share her assessment. He gave an additional request to Evelyn. “Good, but do you think you can give it a face? That would help us observe any emotional instability on the chance it experiences such things.”
“Um...sure?” At first she considered de-manifesting it, but before she could, the projection responded to her idea of a face and one formed. Its expression sent shivers up her spine because despite being made of clay its face was startlingly detailed and its expression was dead.
The ‘eyes’ in its visage turned to regard her, then the other two individuals. There was somehow life in those clay eyes, but despite that there was no feeling. The projection did not otherwise move its body, only its head and eyes shifted. Evelyn bit her lip and crossed her arms, holding herself a bit.
She took a step further away from the projection’s enclosure.
“Excellent.” The man’s tone was quite detached. He took up a pen and clipboard, and began hitting down notes. “Refrain from providing any orders. We wish to observe it for the next hour.” An hour. She’d never been asked to manifest it for that long. She wouldn’t be able to reform it for an hour too, troublesome if an emergency came up. Ah, but she was still off duty, so nothing should happen, right? Regardless, there was nothing to do now but wait while the experts observed and recorded observations.
“A-alright,” she replied and, after a few minutes of staring she found a chair and sat down. Having brought her phone, but not wanting to seem rude, Evelyn glanced over to Alina. She wanted to maybe strike up a conversation, but she also didn’t want to distract them from their work. After maybe five minutes she drew out her phone and took to distracting herself, it helped her ignore the projection.
The projection, at the same five minute mark, slowly started to display what one might describe as restless behavior. Its expression remained largely the same. Neutral. Dead, unfeeling, but its body language shifted somewhat. Where before it had stood entirely still, its gaze trained on Evelyn, not its carved eyes began to wander around the room. At first it took everything in, then mostly paid attention to the two adults, occasionally glancing in Evelyn’s direction. At around 7 minutes the projection began to pace, and at around 9 minutes it started touching the walls of its enclosure. While perhaps mildly interesting, the behavior was not particularly alarming...that was until roughly 11 minutes had passed.
At first nothing seemed amiss, but the researchers might notice that where the projection before had been restless, now it had ceased moving at all and was staring intently at the two. It had ‘carved’ an additional set of eyes into its mockery of a face. One pair was dedicated to Alina and the other to Bret. A minute of this passed and then in an unnaturally quick movement, the projection lunged at the wall closest them and slammed one of its clay fists into the material.
Its gaze was still dead, but its ‘mouth’ had affected what could only be described as a snarl. A hollow rattling began emanating from within the projection.
Evelyn stared, her phone forgotten, eyes wide. She could feel the projection and it felt...alien. Far moreso than normal. Was the connection weaker than it had been before?
The Tulpa drew back its arm, which had become malformed--the clay having redistributed itself into a club--and then slammed it against the barrier again. Its strength was perhaps greater than it ought to have been, despite its frame. With each strike, Evelyn flinched. After a minute of this the projection tried a new tact, redistributing the mass of its hands into hardened claws, which it began to scratch viciously against the enclosure. With each passing minute it became more frantic, beating anc clawing and eventually running--as much as it could--full tilt into the wall. The rattling sound became more frenzied and rose in pitch, becoming grating and loud enough to feel in the body more than just hear with the ears.
Evelyn, at this point had moved as far across the room from her tulpa as she could. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists, fingernails digging into her palms. She was lightly chewing the inside of her cheek as she paced nervously. Occasionally she’d mutter her mom’s reassurance under her breath, but it was largely drowned out by the sounds of the tulpa. The creature only became more violent as time passed, but eventually it stopped beating and clawing and ramming into the wall. Instead it had formed ‘eyes’ all over its head and thin antennae had sprouted from its ‘hands’. It could not alter its original design too greatly though for it never grew or lost any limbs or its head as it redistributed its mass.
It was also clear that it wasn’t generating additional material for sometimes portions of its body would shrink when it changed. The projection had taken to probing the enclosure, apparently seeking any gap. Any escape. The entire time it kept ‘eyes’ on Evelyn, Alina, and Bret and for the latter two its gaze was malignant and hostile, filled with violent intent. For Evelyn its eyes were neutral, blank, emotionless.
After the 15 minute mark there were no further noticeable escalations in its behavior. It would occasionally attempt to damage the enclosure, but would always abandon this to attempt to find some other means of escape. Evelyn could feel it and what she felt disturbed her. Not only would it no longer respond to her commands, it seemed to hold in its mind only two entwined ideas: Protect at all costs/Eliminate all threats.
Evelyn hated this. She hated being scared of it when it was part of her, if it was indeed part of her. She didn’t know that there was anything so violent or nasty in her. She hoped there wasn’t. She hated not being allowed to make it go away. She wanted to leave, but she refused to be insubordinate on top of being weak and afraid and unable to control her own damned power. Determination and loyalty were all she had and the former was a shaky thing now after everything that had happened.
The two scientists observed the entire ordeal from safety, with Alina measuring responses via a computer terminal and Bret taking a great many notes. The tulpa’s behavior was concerning to say the very least. However after 30 minutes had passed by and the thing’s activities hadn’t deviated for the last fifteen of those minutes, the senior expert decided to put a halt to the experiment.
“That’s fine Evelyn. I don’t think we’ll be experiencing any further deviations. Please demanifest it and we’ll wait until you can manifest again. I have some questions for you.”
Even when one of them finally spoke, Evelyn didn’t relax, responding only with a tense nod. Looking at the tulpa she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Normally demanifesting the projection was a simple whim away, but now it was hard. It was like trying to claw her way to a lever in a room full of molasses and it was a big room. After about ten seconds, her face screwed up in concentration, her eyes closed, the projection suddenly flashed out of existence. A shiver went through her and the silver light of its shadow replaced where the projection had been.
The frail connection and the hostility had vanished utterly, replaced by the neutral responsive presence she was used to. However, as there always was, there was a distance between her and the projection and a sort of block in her mind where typically there was none. She didn’t bother setting a timer to tell her when it would be available again, she would know.
Shaking herself a bit she sat down, eyes on the ground. She’d brought her chair closer to the two scientists again. She couldn’t meet their eyes. “Well...shoot,” she said, awaiting the questions. Slowly she steadied her breathing and the frantic beating of her heart slowed.
The scientists had noticed the extra effort it had taken Evelyn to dismiss her apparition, and jotted it down in their observations. Once that was done, Alina took a seat in front of the young Ward, and gave a friendly smile. “I’m sure you noticed it growing more and more restless over time. Can you tell me what you felt through your connection during this time?”
Evelyn swallowed hard and glanced up at Alina. “It was like it was disconnecting from me, drifting away. I...I think it stopped caring who was a friend and who wasn’t. I’m not sure. It seemed like,” she met Alina’s eyes, “...it seemed like it saw everything as a threat to me.” She held herself, taking deep breaths again to calm down.
Alina nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. What about after you returned it to its base form? How has your connection been since then?”
Evelyn paused, checking, before she responded, “It feels normal again. It...went back as soon as it demanifested.”
“Well that’s good news at least.” Alina smiled, attempting to comfort Evelyn. “Our observations and the data the computers collected have led us to a hypothesis,” she began, “but we’ll need to reaffirm the theory over multiple sets of experimentation. Do you think you’re up for two, maybe three more rounds?”
Rubbing her arms a bit, almost as if she were cold, Evelyn swallowed hard and nodded. She’d do what needed to be done to figure out her power on a deeper level, even though it was unpleasant, even though it was scary. Seeing her projection...her power, so violent and unreasoning really did disturb her. “I...um. We can continue, but we have to wait till it can manifest again,” while it was true, Evelyn really wanted to put it off for awhile. It had been hard enough to watch the tulpa the first time. She could only hope that it would get easier….
And so the experiment continued for two more repetitions. The second was more or less identical to the first go around, with the same actions occurring at the same times and the same observations. On the third go round Bret and Alina had encouraged Evelyn to once again create the tulpa as something harmless within the confines of its cage, but also to give it orders. Simple orders, like turns, spinning in place, jumping jacks, and any other mundane, irrelevant ideas they could come up with.
For the first 5 minutes the projection followed her mental commands instantly and without and difficulty, but as the clock passed the 5 minute mark the projection responded to commands with a slight delay or with less accuracy, completing the tasks more sloppily and with an expression that made it seem...almost confused. Ten minutes passed and it was at this point that the projection gradually began to act strangely. At first it was at least mildly responsive to her commands, and would perform them with a delay or in a fashion that implied its attention was elsewhere. The entire time its gaze remained locked on either its enclosure or the non-Evelyn humans in the room. By the time 15 minutes rolled around, the projection was not only ignoring any and all commands, it was clawing at and attacking its enclosure with gradually mounting vigor. It was at this point that--despite any commands--the projection proceeded along a similar set of behaviors as had been noticed at a certain point following the ten minute mark in the two previous tests.
Oddly, Evelyn felt...less bothered as she noticed the trend. It seemed that there might be consistency in her power, even if that consistent result was in and of itself rather disturbing in nature.
“I think we can safely assume our hypothesis to be correct,” Bret spoke, jotting down some notes on his clipboard. Without looking up he said to Evelyn, “Go ahead and turn it off.” She complied.
Alina performed some final tasks on the computer consoles and then approached the young Ward. She bit her upper lip nervously, but recovered fairly quick. “Our visual-audio observations, as well as the brain pattern analysis in this room, strongly indicate a consistent pattern to your tulpa’s behavior based on the length of time it is existing in a corporeal state,” she began. Realizing this might be a bit too much jargon for the young woman, she backpedalled. “That is to say, it seems to be a normal behavior that happens after a set time limit while it’s manifested. Gradually it begins to ignore you as a new parameter kicks in. I can only assume that goal is to ensure your protection at all costs, as it showed intense hostility toward us administering the testing, but none toward you. It would appear to grow more zealous of this goal as time passes. About ten minutes by our timing.”
Bret stepped in. “According to our findings, there was no influence from any master-class parahumans on your mission, this is a natural behavior of your powers. One we should have discovered in earlier testing. I’m taking full responsibility. In any case, unless it becomes an extreme circumstance and is approved by your team leader or a senior Protectorate hero, I am advising that the director enforce a ruling that you are never to allow your tulpa to remain corporeal for longer than seven minutes. Just in case.”
Alina nodded in agreement. “Do you have any questions, Miss Chambers?”
Evelyn, though she was grateful for the second explanation, had followed the first just fine. Still, hearing it again did help hammer home the reality of her power. Not only did her power have to be inactive for as long as it was used, but using it too long had some...well, truly dire consequences. She shivered and bit her lip as flashes of the warehouse nearly overcame what nerve she had left.
Taking a deep breath she focused on Alina. Did she have any questions? Was there really anything to say? She frowned a bit then realized something, “Wait...in the warehouse I don’t think my projection was active for more than 10 minutes. So...why did…it attack,” she dropped the sentence, a desperate look in her eyes. After a few moments of trying to find a different word, she sagged a bit, giving up, “Why did it attack my friends?”
Saying it outloud she realized something else. As guilty as she felt and as scared as she was...she needed to talk to Lillian.
“You’re absolutely certain that it hadn’t been ten minutes?” Bret asked more to confirm her question than to get an answer.
“Let me pull up your own account in the official report,” Alina added. She went back to the computer console and took a moment to access the proper files, then took another moment to read Evelyn’s account. After a couple minutes, she snapped her fingers. “I can’t say for certain unless we get thinker confirmation, but I have a strong theory as to what happened. Immediately before your manifestation turned hostile, all the Wards reported seeing it struck by a blaster beam from one of…” she paused awkwardly. “By a blaster beam. And then you reported feeling a strange disorientation with your manifestation. It feels fairly clear to me that the beam did something to force its nature to come about early.”
Evelyn nodded, “Well...that helps. If um, if you can get confirmation I’d appreciate it. Anything else you need?” Even though she was asking, it was clear from the faint nervousness about her that she wanted to leave.
Bret shook his head. “We’re all set. Just need to crunch some numbers, analyze the details, and call in some favors with some out of state thinkers. We’ll update you with any new observations.”
“Alright. Um, thank you for your time,” she said before making a hasty retreat from the room. As soon as she’d departed the room the researchers would notice something odd. The projection’s shadow expanded rapidly until it filled the room completely, then began expanding out the door as well. A moment later it vanished, or rather moved so fast in the direction opposite Evelyn that it appeared to. If they glanced at the file for her power they might recall that the projection wasn’t supposed to get much bigger than 12 feet in height and while its normal dimensions aside from height were not so limited, it still should not have been able to fill the entire room.
Evelyn, entirely unaware of the phenomena, though she had banished the projection as far away as possible again decided, headed for the front desk. Once she got there she asked the receptionist where she could find Lillian. The woman’s response however, dropped all of her hope and resolve in a bucket of acid.
“Lillian isn’t accepting visitors right now. She’s currently with her therapist.” Suddenly numb, Evelyn thanked the woman and turned, an empty look in her eyes. Her dad picked her up and neither of them said anything for the entire ride.
The only part of the receptionist’s response she’d heard were “Lillian isn’t accepting visitors.”
“Two hundred twenty five thousand beakers of beer on the wall!” A man’s voice sang with a trill as he stood in the center of his lab and let his hands dance through the air like some maniac conductor. Throughout the room vis danced through the air and so too did a vast number of implements fly about. A number of them would--on occasion--form into small golems to carry out a task or two before falling apart once more. On the floor a number of what appeared to be gremlin and imp-like creatures frolicked about while equally small fae entities flitted on gossamer wings, cowering away from the man.
However, the harmony of his work found itself disrupted as a powerful draw of vis tugged at something outside of his lab. After all, nothing--absolutely nothing--could touch the vis inside his lab. It was--simply put--warded too well for all that. Not to mention all the space-time fuckery. It’d taken such a long time to stop it from destabilizing and ruining all of his wonderful shelves.
Oh those first dozen shelves had been special. How he missed them.
What was he on about? Ah, yes, the vis. Walking from the center of his room he almost trampled several small licenti workers as he made his way to a panel of what appeared to be prismatic glass. Pressing a finger to the very top edge of the surface, he drew it down and then focused vis into the substance. Swiftly, sigils lit up over the surface, casting rays of light deeper into the material.
After a brief liaison with his reflection, the substance bent inwards on itself and then there was a distortion of the material and everything around it. Looking at the distortion would, for someone normal--nay, almost anyone--be quite disorienting, perhaps even to the point of retching. However, Reates walked forwards and stepped through it as if it were a door...
… because it was a door. obviously.”I really ought to fix the illusion on that, it’s gotten quite out of hand,” he mused to himself as he exited the portal where it led into the closed-off office portion of his classroom. On the wall behind him was what appeared to be a perfectly normal mirror...
... because it was a perfectly normal mirror.
Reates carried on out of his office and into the classroom proper. Immediately he knew something was off. Wrong.
He fixed the position of a pink eraser on his desk and sighed with relief.
“Much better.”
That taken care of, he turned around and began heading back into his office. All was well in the worl--....
Interrupting his thoughts, Reates detected a culmination of vis--though far off--so incomprehensible that for several seconds he forgot to breathe.
Luckily, he did not also forget to teleport onto the roof of the university. He found that he was not high up enough and so he shifted locations again, a harsh displacement of air resounding as he appeared on top of the tallest building in Ominar. A number of butterflies flitted off of his form before settling once more and disappearing as they blended in completely with his clothes.
Eyes narrowing, Reates did something that he endeavored to avoid doing outside of the safety of his lab: he removed his glasses. Green eyes taking on a far more pronounced glow, Reates gasped quietly as he saw the veritable tide of vis being pulled away from Ominar and over the English Channel.
Casting his gaze out further and setting his jaw, he braced himself, for what met his gaze was something astounding. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen so much energy packed into such a small space. At least not in Medius or Torqueo. At least not by anything resembling a mortal. Not by anything resembling normal and even then, for Aberrations seldom became so bloated with power.
A small frown creasing his brow as he tried to work out what was happening, Reates cast a hand out and weaved patterns with his fingers. Not a second passed before a number of spell matrices had formed and then swiftly began expanding from his hand to envelop a sphere around him. Glowing sigils manifested in the wind and then deformed and spread into more complex patterns. Two of the spheres continued to expand and as they did the mage took a deep breath and began latching onto any surrounding vis he could.
Keeping a close eye on the building pressure of the frenetic vis, even despite the fact that it was tens of miles away, Reates constructed a barrier and then, subsequently created another, which he moved into a phase state. Rapidly calculating the distance he sent it to ZUMA and had it tap into a number of the magic batteries of the university, drawing from the crystals to bolster it and allow the mage to expand it to full size. The final set of matrices expanded, his fingers weaving in intricate patterns to arrange and control the numerous matrices he now held.
Once the two barriers were stable and no longer required a steady flow of vis to remain as such, the mage tapped into the other two pieces of spellwork and let them filter some of the stimuli from his perception for him. Several minutes passed.
“Bloody Hell,” he exclaimed.
Seconds after he could see nothing but white as the entire horizon was set aflame, white light pouring from a source very few could see at all. Reates, only able to keep his wits about him due to the spells he’d arranged, swallowed hard and mentally reached out for his shields. Immediately he pumped 1/10th of his vis into each and then held fast.
He’d done the calculations and could literally see the air being displaced by the explosion of vis as it crossed the Channel.
Finally giving in, Reates let a smile cross his lips as the force hit the coast. He heard glass shatter and reacted fast enough to shield himself from the sound as well.
He began laughing as the force washed over his shield and then--moments later--the shield over ZUMA. The sheer amount of vis carried by the shockwave alone would recharge his crystals, feed Abstractis, and was suffusing his body with an intense warmth, much like a good brandy.
Taking advantage of the vis washing over the city another twelve matrices sprung out from his body. Sigils manifested in the air in diagrams constricting air into specific patterns. The vis began flowing into the sigil matrices and as they did he let his right hand grip Lyura’s Star. A slight distortion in the air in the very center of each sigil enclosure formed. He guided the vis through the tiny apertures and into the massive sets of magical batteries he’d hidden about the school grounds--not to mention beneath his classroom and in his lab proper.
As they did so he let both shields go--they were no longer necessary--and snapped his fingers. A cellphone appeared in his hands, Nabri’s number already dialed. Ah, speed dial was a wonderful thing--though perhaps not so wonderful as all those poor ruined desks. No, not desks. They’d been shelves? Yes, shelves, definitely.
The phone was still ringing. However, right before it picked up he hung up and flared his vis in a literal spire upwards from his position on the roof of the huge skyscraper. It lasted for a fleeting five seconds before disappearing entirely. He waited a three count.
“One...two…” The night was young for Nabriales Taeryn. He'd held a little gathering at one of his various residences, inviting anyone that he deemed particularly noteworthy or attractive, and as was typically the case with his parties in private places it quickly turned from an intimate gathering to an outright orgy. Precursor Descendants were known for their legendary beauty--they were almost akin to gods and goddesses in the flesh, the purest expression of divinity that the human form could possibly capture. The ugliest and most foul of the Precursors was still leagues ahead of the most beautiful human in the universe. Nabriales, growing up exclusively among his kind, had never appreciated that aspect of his heritage until he had been introduced to his wayward kin. It wasn't that they were ugly--far from it--but they simply lacked something that he had always taken for granted. There was no longer that spark of otherworldly mystique, that sensation of awe and bliss building up in the chest, like when viewing a perfect natural vista for the first time.
Indeed, Nabriales had never really gotten to have that experience among his peers either--for he was quite considerably the most beautiful among the Precursor Descendants he'd met. Most normal humans could fall head-over-heels in love with him at the merest glance. Those who could be sexually attracted to him were--almost without fail--and even those who could not took the time to reconsider their stance. He had only further enhanced his natural beauty over the years with various potions and applications of magic, understanding that the allure he could command was just as potent a tool as any knife in the shadows or scandalous secret. It had, truth be told, been key to his arrival at the illustrious position that he found himself in within Ominar. All of the partygoers fawned over him like lovesick puppies (though with considerably more wits and propriety), and through his expensive alcohol and peerless alchemy he helped redirect that lust and awe into the throng of revelers.
He made no effort to either include or exclude any particular race at his little gatherings. Licentia, Prae, Humans--all welcome, if they had the temperament and the interest. The rich mingled with the poor, from businessmen who had visited his store to get that competitive edge to the delivery boys who wanted to charm extra money from their clients. Prostitutes and Lords writhed together across the polished marble flooring, the status of their birth and occupation forgotten--the sexual energy in the room removing from them their petty preconceptions and inhibitions. The focus required to adequately please even a single lover was intense, but to direct an entire crowd in the correct way was downright consuming. So engrossed in his actions was he that Nabriales failed to notice the event about to unfold outside of his little sanctuary. It was only when the intoxicating effects of his potions waned--first for the Prae, then the Licentia, and finally the Humans--that his focus broke and he looked outside of the window to see what was happening.
The immensity of the vis being pulled from Ominar across the ocean was... Legendary. He had never encountered such a feat before, and as he looked more closely to vaguely begin to attempt to discern its purpose he realised that he didn't particularly need to know anything about its purpose--whatever it was, it was bad. He quickly called the room to attention, offering them more potions, and attempted to teleport himself to the top of the building to get a better look. He was met with disappointment as his spell failed, having not provided a sufficient amount of vis, and composed himself briefly before giving it the extra kick it needed in order for him to successfully move him through space to the roof. Though his Sight was not exactly phenomenal, he could see clearly enough that the magic being intoned was phenomenally destructive in nature, and also that it was dangerously close to completion. He scrambled to activate the magical wards engraved into the walls of the penthouse below him, enough to ensure that it wouldn't feel any of the blast, before drawing a more complex spell matrix in the air to activate Victorious Secret's natural defences. Even in the presence of the ambient vis being drawn away, the rune was easy to conjure after he had adjusted for the extra vis required--and he could see from the top of the building that the defences had activated.
Then, everything was a blinding flash of white. Despite the fact that looking directly at the blast would have surely temporarily blinded the average human, the vis within Nabri's eyes was enough to shield him from any damage--though the fact that he could see the vis made it even more disorienting than it would ordinarily have been. He felt the pulse of energy ripple through the air before he felt any of the force of the incoming explosion, and scrambled to summon a lime green bottle of potion to his hand and chug it as quickly as he could before the force proper blew past him. Thanks to the instantaneous effects of the potion his balance was completely unaffected, but he very viscerally felt the force and the heat wash over him and remarked that with the potion it felt eerily similar to some combination of extreme sport and being in a sauna. He used his newfound stability to stabilise a decent chunk of the vis-infused explosion and begun the complex process of crystallising it, manoeuvring it into an orderly fashion so that he could ensure it was adequately studied. He was very skilled with the creation of vis crystals (though, shamefully, not even beginning to encroach upon the skill of his sister), but he found the process in this particular instance remarkably taxing--it was like working with molten glass, burning to the touch and suffused with a rage the likes of which he'd only ever had cause to imagine. As he completed the process, he took a deep breath in and admired the small white crystal that he'd created.
In that moment, he felt deep in his soul that his phone was ringing. Despite being as naked as the day he was born, and his phone being nowhere in sight, he knew it was ringing--and he knew exactly who was calling him. Indeed, as a trail of vis surged into the sky from one of the skyscrapers in the city his suspicions were confirmed, and he waited for a count of two before teleporting directly to its location. “...thr--....” "--ee!"
He chimed in, chipper as ever, as he appeared exactly on cue. He wouldn't have called it a ritual per se between him and Reates, but there was always an odd sort of synchronicity between them whenever they managed to get together. Of course, it was normally in far less foreboding circumstances than these, but there was always something odd happening when they had cause to meet--that was simply the way of things, for them.
"So... What the fuck was that?" he asked, pointing into the distance where the explosion had begun. He figured that if either of them were more equipped to answer that question it would be Reates. Then, he immediately shivered, remembering that it was fairly cold and he was butt naked. With a thoughtful nod, he summoned a potion that looked almost like bottled fire and drunk half of it, his skin lighting up a rosy red as warmth flooded his body. Then, he offered the vial to Reates, giving him a look that very plainly said: "Yes, this is obviously the way to fix being cold when naked and outside. What else would you do?"
”Better question. Why was that,” he answered as if it were the most obvious thing imaginable. So obvious in fact that he didn’t even turn to look upon Nabri, his gaze still locked on the unnaturally bright night sky.
”From what I can tell it certainly weren’t a proper bomb. No notable aircraft on the skyline nor human make-up. Just vis, loads and loads of vis.” He shook his head and closed his eyes, bringing his glasses back up to rest upon his nose and behind his ears.
He opened his eyes and took a step back onto thin air, nearly plummeting off the roof, or rather...he had stepped entirely off the roof, but magic and quick wits had saved him. ”Ah. Well, ye’d think the more startling thing to see were the explosion, but Nabri...you’re positively glowing tonight.” Reates grinned, ”Are you tryin’ a new potion regimen?”
His gaze gravitated to the potion in the Precursor’s hand and his eyes lit up--metaphorically, seeing as his eyes already glow...all the time. Obviously.”Ah, that’d be the regimen then,” he said, flicking his wrist in a practiced motion. The potion was promptly drawn across the space between them by a single thin tendril of vis attached to Reates’ wrist. As he caught the bottle and began to down the rest of its contents the vis dispersed as quickly as it had formed.
Once it was drained, Reates held it at length from his face and squinted into it as if trying to see if there were any remaining contents...despite it being clear. ”Well, now I’m just bloody warm,” he said with the briefest of mock frowns, a smile still glittering in his eyes. He tossed the vial back to Nabri and cast his gaze back at the sky. ”Well. I know this can’t’ve been a licentia. One this powerful would’ve been in the news before, not to mention on the boards for IHO,” he stated rather matter of factly.
Absently he made a petting motion on the air beside him, falling silent as he did. About thirty awkward seconds of complete silence passed before a cat made entirely of crystal hopped up onto the top of the building, walked onto an invisible platform of vis, and sat in exactly the correct position for Reates’ hand to begin petting it.
Reates continued talking, ”Probably not a prae either, given that it looks like the explosion was centered on one o’ their embassies.” He cast a sidelong glance at Nabri, ”Any ideas? Questions? Comments? Concerns? Quaffles?” He nodded to himself as if Nabri had responded and snapped his finger, conjuring his favorite brandy and--inexplicably--something from one of Nabri’s glorious shelves. He took a sip and then another.
It was good. Tad hot though. Was his mouth literally on fire? No, it was fine.
Everything was fine.
Actually, his mouth was on fire. Brandy did not interact very well with that particular potion--by coincidence or design?--and the sensation Reates was feeling was essentially acid reflux, but if he were a dragon.
Reates pondered, as he casually breathed fire from his nostrils and mouth, was he a dragon?
“No.” Nabri mentally interjected, reminding him that come-to-the-lab-dressed-as-a-dragon day was Wednesday. Sometimes.
"Mmm. I've never seen ambient vis pulled to a location on that scale or with that intensity before--especially not as a method of spellcraft!" Nabri responded after mulling over Reates' comments. He held out his palm and presented the crystallised vis from the shockwave that reached Ominar, a twinkling fragment of milky opaque whiteness, interspersed with faint lines of red. Though he had made the crystal, he could not really glean anything of particular value from it--such things were, regrettably, not his specialty. That was why he had Reates!
"... an Exeo was visiting Solhavre tonight, right? I'm sure I read that somewhere..." Nabri mused, furrowing his brow and summoning his phone--smirking as he saw the missed call from Reates--before flicking through several articles at once and finding mention of the Exeo's visit. He pointed the screen vaguely in Reates' direction while he turned towards the smoking ruins of the former city, his expression hardening in a moment of revelation.
"Assassination?" he offered, a tentative theory to ponder while Reates delved into the magic. He couldn't offer anything that Reates simply couldn't do better when it came to the in-depth analysis of vis usage, but his social contacts were far more developed--and those were avenues that needed to be explored to piece together what had just happened. His fingers became a flurry of activity, tapping to and fro along keys, and then a quick call was made and Nabri held the phone out, pressing the speakerphone button, and waiting for a couple of seconds as the call connected and was promptly answered.
"Combien de morts?" How many dead? "Cent cinquante mille. Toutes les personnes." 150,000. Everyone. "Merci." My condolences. Click.
Nabri let a moment of silence hang in the air--a profound silence, shared only between the two of them, atop the skyscraper. This far up, the sound of the city below was muted--only the faint blare of sirens and the whipping of the wind reached them as the emergency authorities rushed to the outskirts of the city where the destruction was the worst. Then, a couple of vibrations in rapid succession, and Nabriales confirmed his theory of assassination with a few simple words across the screen. As he read them, he built up the magic in the tips of his fingers and the same rosy glow that flushed his cheeks spread through into his horns, angry red sparkles and crackles spilling forth from the cracks as the phone in his hands begun to melt and was set aflame. He let it drop from the edge of the building and turned back to Reates.
No words, then. He had heard the phone call. He knew what had happened.
Where they went to research the magic was up to him.
Any joy had drained from the mage’s face as the death toll was uttered over the phone. Reates took another swig of brandy, despite the literal fire in his mouth. He let out a long breath and it would’ve appeared a somber gesture, were he not breathing fire. Frowning, the mage snapped his fingers and the interaction ceased, returning his breath to a more mundane state.
He could feel Nabriales looking to him for a bit of direction. “This does not bode well,” he said, the dragon gone, though there was a quiet sort of anger roiling beneath the surface. It was an emotion that even Nabri--one of the man’s closest associates and even friends--would never have seen him display in truth. “We’ll go to one of your labs,” he said blandly, his accent less thick than usual. His characteristic mirth having dropped entirely away. His green eyes danced with fire and an aura of feral vis coruscated off of him. Stepping back onto the skyscraper, rather than hanging in thin air, Reates spared Nabri one glance and then swiped his hand across the air horizontally. There was a blinding flash of light and vis and he was gone.
They would reconvene at the lab. It appeared they had an assassin to identify.
She had a dream that there was a big clock and the clock was made of tons of gears all of different sizes. Some of the gears had circuits running through them. Some of the gears were made of still living bone. Strangely, some of them smelled of cereal, and others of putrid, far too strong, alcohol. There was one made entirely of weirdly stiff black cloth...it reminded her of something scruffy. There were furry gears and talking gears, and gears that danced and sang or swam or ran. So many gears, they were all amazing and beautiful, but...but the clock didn't work.
The clock didn't work.
Lilliana woke up, shooting up out of bed like some kind of rocket propelled lady. B-MO reacted just as fast, wrapping her body in metal before she struck the wall of her cannon at high speed. Eyes wide in the utter darkness of B-MO's embrace, Lilliana oriented herself. Though unaware there had been a party, she had slept through one. She was glad she'd gabbed herself with one of her special syringes. She was glad that she was waking up, because it meant they'd made it through Reverse Mountain okay.
That was a relief.
She relaxed, B-MO retracting, and stood up after having fallen to the ground in a ball of bio-metal. There was a bowl of cereal at her table and boy was she hungry. Swiftly she took it up, poured some milk that she could tell her son had left her, and then ate happily. It tasted like the success of a good invention and the unraveling of an amazingly intricate and beautiful mystery.
She loved it and she finished eating it far too soon. Minutes later she threw open the door of her room with gusto--B-MO having grabbed her two packs and looped them over her--before dashing through the boat's lower deck and ascending into the sky of the open sea. She pulled in the smell of the sea and stretched with a big smile.
"The Grandline!" She exclaimed with excitement, before her eyes settled on the approaching island. She tilted her head and then a fey gleam entered her gaze. B-MO shuddered, its current form that of two segmented metallic wings. She was wondering if there was anything fun to take apart in that big Jolly Roger'd castle. Tearing her eyes a way she took stock of the crew. Everyone seemed well. Good. However, as she looked about she noticed something strange.
There was a ship following them. OH, it was the ship from Reverse Mountain, the one they'd almost collided with. Huh. Well that was interesting, especially since it was clearly another pirate crew. Lilliana was suddenly very curious as to what had happened while she was out.
Name: Seicho, Ankou(Lingering scent of a flower floating in the air). Alias: Gender: Male. Height & Weight: Age: Age Appearance: Race: Plus-->Shinigami. Rank & Division: Appearance:
Personality:
History:All ages mentioned are literal, the soul matures fast, and then the aging process slows from there.
"" - Seicho, Ankou.
Theme
Zankensoki, Reiatsu and other Talents
Immense Reiryoku(3): "Spiritual Power" is how much energy has been stored by the user. It also describes their Spiritual Sensitivity and Willpower.
Incredible Reiatsu(4) - "Spiritual Pressure" is the density the user can exert their Reiryoku (in spite of the actual level of stored Reiryoku). It describes the skillful use of energy.
Poor Kido Power(0) - The stability and resilience of spells depends on the control and even the type of Reiryoku one has. Hindrances can be overcome through diligence.
Zanjutsu Grandmaster(4): Simply the application of the sword. It also indicates the skill one has in wielding any other weapon.
Incredible Offense(4) - This only applies to the more aggressive tactics of applying Zanjutsu. It indicates finesse and skill in applying one's weapon.
Incredible Defense(4) - This only applies to the more passive tactics of applying Zanjutsu. It indicates the ability to deflect, block, parry, and counter strikes with one's weapon.
Incredible Physical Strength(4) - This only applies to the power and endurance of applying Zanjutsu. It indicates the power behind swings and thrusts made by one's weapon.
Hakuda Practitioner(0): Simply the application of the body. It also indicates the skill one has in any martial art.
Unremarkable Offense(0) - This only applies to the more aggressive tactics of applying Hakuda. It indicates finesse and skill in applying one's body.
Unremarkable Defense(1) - This only applies to the more passive tactics of applying Hakuda. It indicates the ability to deflect, block, and counter strikes with one's body.
Unremarkable Physical Strength(0) - This only applies to the power and endurance of applying Hakuda. It indicates the power behind strikes and blows made by one's body.
Yet to Learn Kido(0): The ability to successfully execute Hado and Bakuda spells. The higher the level, the higher chance of success and the greater ability to cast powerful spells.
Impressive Knowledge(3) - This indicates known information (though what that information is is up to the inidividual).
Impressive Intelligence(3) - This indicates one's ability to learn and understand information (though how this is performed and accomplished is up to the individual).
Hoho Master(3): Purely the application of Shunpo and other similar abilities. It also indicates one's reflexes and ability to react.
Impressive Mobility(4) - This describes one's physical speed, agility, and flexibility overall.
Sealed State: Ankou's zanpakuto, unlike any previously seen in the history of the gotei thirteen, takes the form of three identical blades, These blades are seen in his appearance, however, when drawn these blades change the nature of their shape, altering to become what can be seen below.
Shikai: While the form of his blades changes none in his transition into shikai, there is indeed a command to be spoken. Quickly, Ankou will speak out, "Clashing resonance. Congregation; Recompose and obliterate,..." as the first two words are stated, his blades seem to vibrate --sheathed or not. As the third word is spoken, the blades glow brightly and reiryoku begins to flow from them, condensing behind Ankou's body. Then, finally as the final words are spoken, the fourth form of his zanpakuto materializes and he calls out its name, "...Sanran rei-ben(散乱霊弁 'Scattered soul petals')!" Following this there is a flash of purple light from behind him, thus finalizing his shikai, though not changing his blades, and revealing a floating ouroborous with three snake skeletons intertwined to make it up. This flouting ring follows directly behind Ankou for the duration of his shikai, and while technically composed of reishi, the ring is impossible to make contact with, appearing to oscillate at such a speed that everything simply fazes right through, thus making it intangible.
Abilities: The abilities of Sanran rei-ben are not very extensive, but are indeed very effective in nature. Essentially, they steal reiryoku by way of blade-to-blade, blade-to-body, or body-to-body contact. In fact, technically, the sole ability of Ankou's shikai is the robbery of reiryoku by way of his blades and his body, respectively. However, this ability is the build up for its more...offensive aspects, particularly the 'soul shards' as in shikai, Ankou's zanpakuto may look essentially the same, but they are chipped and appear to be missing parts of their form(s). The abilities of Ankou's zanpakuto do not tax him very much, however, he does lose stamina from battle, and from releasing either Shōtotsu o sai kōsei or Kyōshin - tsumibukai kahen respectively. Last of all, Ankou is capable of 'calling' his zanpakuto to him whether released or not. This 'calling' will pull any, or all, of his blades back towards him, typically blade first, at high speeds --this pseudo telekinesis can also be utilized to, while his blades remain within a yard of his body, levitate the zanpakuto.
Techniques
Kaishū(会衆 'Congregation'): This technique is passive and is activated the moment his zanpakuto releases into shikai. Essentially, this technique is what steals reiryoku. This process is done by invading whatever makes contact with the blade, or Ankou's body, by way of his own reiryoku, which then pulls some of the object/individual's reiryoku into Ankou/his zanpakuto. However, this reiryoku is not utilized to sustain Ankou's body, instead, it is pulled into the ouroborous ring and circulated within. The eyes of each snake skull on the ring are typically dark and do not glow, but once Ankou has blocked, clashed, or struck his opponent 5 times, one of the skull's eyes will begin to glow a dark purple hue. For each 5-10 strikes, one pair of eyes will be lit, with the total being 3 pairs. When a skull's eyes have lit, the skull will generate reiryoku, which will fill in the 'broken' portions of 1 of Ankou's 3 zanpakuto blades. This process continues on until all 3 blades are empowered. When a blade is empowered, it gains up to 3 uses of Kyōshin - tsumibukai kahen. Each single skull is worth 1 Shōtotsu o sai kōsei, but it should be noted that they can continually be refilled by the aforementioned process. Additionally, if an attack of equivalent power to 5-10 strikes is taken, Ankou instantly gains a skull --an example of such would be a weak cero, or strong bala.
Shōtotsu o sai kōsei(衝突を再構成 'Recomposing clash'): When Ankou has activated 1 or more skulls utilizing Kaishū, this technique can then be utilized. By sacrificing some of his own reiryoku and the reiryoku used to charge a skull, Ankou can actually release one of the serpents from the ouroborous. This release is temporary, but while released the serpent can 'fly/slither' through the air at his mental command. Once Ankou snaps, or says the name of the technique, the snake will release all the reiryoku contained within, causing an explosion of tiny purple blade shards. These shards can cut both reiryoku and reishi respectively. The strength of this explosion has been compared to that of an average cero. It should be noted that the serpents move about as fast as Ankou can, though they cannot shunpo.
Kyōshin - tsumibukai kahen(共振 - 罪深い花片 'Resonation - Sinful petals'): Utilizing Kaishū, Ankou can release up to 3 of these per charged skull. This technique is rather simple and it allows Ankou to slash, or stab, to release the 'shards' or 'petals' that are completing the empowered blade in question. These shards, before coming into contact with a reishi body that contains reiryoku, are oscillating at the same frequency as the ring at his back. This means one thing, upon being released from his zanpakuto, the shards are essentially incorporeal, or ghost-like, in nature. This allows them to faze right through any reishi-based defenses. Blocking with a weapon, or zanpakuto is effectively impossible, as the shards will pass right through and then strike/pierce the target.
I think a wind may very well have caught my sails too, to be entirely honest. I had to move recently (from Florida to Wisconsin) due to extenuating circumstances. It's thrown off my usual posting schedules for every RP I'm in (and I wasn't consistent enough with this one to begin with...sadly). I've been trying to juggle a lot for awhile and I love this world and I love the players in it--ya'll are seriously some fantastic writers. I am often awed by your skill and talent and how you've honed it. It's been a treat even if I haven't gotten to interact directly with most of you ICly (through no real fault of your own or anyone as far as I am concerned).
My thoughts are summed up thusly:
I don't entirely want to leave, but I think I need to have a leave of absence. I feel bad about it because Dark Jack even has a character tied up with I'on. So what I may do is continue that and plan an exit for I'on soon. I don't like leaving loose ends behind and I don't like my characters being misrepresented--though my visions of I'on are...odd at this point, he's become muddled in my mind over the years.
I think I would definitely rejoin at some point if things continue on, but I think I'd do so with a new character and a new vision for said character. I think when I made I'on all those years ago that I was intent on stuffing too much into one person without really considering their characterization enough (and whether it would be more or less enjoyable for me to play them).
So yeah. I will be around, I think I may even hang around the discord for now, but I'm gonna more or less bow out of things. Dark Jack, maybe PM me somewhere and we can figure out a track that lets I'on and Nimbus/Maledai separate to free up that plan for you. I don't want to leave you hanging as I'm sure I already have (sorry again about that, my life is kicking my ass as it hasn't in awhile). Anywho, you guys are great, this is entirely on me, not anyone else, and I will see you around!
Surveying the room despite his own nervousness, Drake noted the displeasure of his teammates. Whimsy didn't appear to be in good shape...and yet Broker asked her to dispose of what was--...no. He refused to think of them as the same. He gritted his teeth and then took another drink. He absorbed their employer's explanations, both of powers and reasoning. There was more to it. That description was too brief. No power was that damned simple and without hang-ups.
Every power had weaknesses...and every power had underlying mechanics, or he supposed that whatever gave them those powers had such. He shuddered, the idea of some alien passenger interacting with his mind and body to fascilitate his power giving him the creeps. Of course, on another level he was grateful to it. The thing had changed his life and even with his trigger event being what it was, he felt better off than he had been before.
Finishing his drink--probably far too quickly given its alcohol content--Drake set it aside and stepped out from the counter, his gaze briefly firing between Broker, Headhunter, and Heartless. He moved across the room and turned a seat towards the situation. His hands were still shaking, but he clasped them before him, crossing one ankle over the other as he stared at them from where he sat, head tilted slightly. He considered the dinosaur girl and the thoughts that came to mind were simple, logical.
She had been a threat, a fair bit unpredictable. He agreed, Heartless should have simply tased her, but the reality was he hadn't. To go about trying to save her afterwards. It was an act of emotion. One of guilt or compassion perhaps. His gaze narrowed and focused in on Heartless. "Counter to your title, you've got quite the streak of empathy, Heartless" he said the name with utter disdain. His power was tuned all the way down, not affecting any of the members of the team and certainly not Broker--who he figured would be immune anyways, a shame. "I hope you don't intend to make a habit of helping the enemy. I only have orders to not use my power on members of the team. Allies, that is. If you endanger us or our mission, you're not an ally. Correct me if I'm wrong boss." All he really needed was a reason after all. A reason and assurance he would not be rendered brain dead or worse due to use of his power on Heartless. Of course, there was a chance that Broker would say he was wrong to set a precedence. A precedent that would allow the man to handle Heartless himself.
It meant that either either response Broker gave might serve to drive fear into Heartless and fear was control. It as the mind killer and oh how he loved laying the psyche to rest. He smiled faintly at the thought.
He spent much of the time on the way back in something of a daze and though it did not last terribly long, it was still frustrating. Luckily, by the time they had returned to base, he felt more himself, having recovered both from the exposure to his own power and from taking the invisible strikes. He was still sore though. Sore and unhappy.
Following the others in—and giving his duplicate a wide berth—he was somewhat relieved, though also confused, when the clone's voice had no effect on him...or apparently the others. The only difference was Broker's presence. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing...for a time.
As Heartless finished, he glanced to the bar and—though he too wanted a drink, he didn't trust the fellow to make him one properly. Instead, he made his way over and began making a relatively elaborate mixed drink. As he did so, he spoke, power off, but tone clear to carry to them all.
"I expected the worst from the very beginning. It's why I was so careful. Honestly, the rest of you should learn to accept that there will always be complications." He spilled a bit of wine and it was only then that he realized his hands were shaking. He pressed on, acting as if nothing had happened.
"Regardless, it was a mess. The Wards showed up. I don't know if they were tipped off and this was a test or if it was entirely unrelated, but regardless it was...not ideal. By the by, as you can see we still brought back what you required. What I think might be more pressing is..." he trailed off, finishing the drink and setting it on the counter, his eyes on Broker. Before he spoke again he took a long swig and swallowed, letting the liquid courage begin to ease his nerves.
"You interact with powers somehow," he said matter-of-factly. He was nervous, he was tired, but he was also curious. He found he couldn't hold the gaze and so looked down at his glass.
He considered how coldly the man had simply murdered the clones. If he hadn't already been somewhat desensitized by the events of the day, he'd be reeling. Why had he shot the clone of Sophia? He understood that a second one of her existence could cause problems, but still...that was. He took another drink. "I talked about it with Headhunter, but I think the others need to know the distinct feel of my power. You can nullify it afterwards I figure. Since you did so with the clone. I think it may help with identifying other troublesome masters in the future, but that's...that's less important right now." He glanced at the others, falling silent for a long moment.
Eventually he looked to Broker and spoke, "I'd like to know what we're actually doing here." He then looked away and fell silent. He didn't like this.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa
She didn't deserve the pay, she didn't deserve to be pardoned of her mistakes. This wasn't right. How could they stand by and just let them off for screwing things up so badly? Even with the tears falling already, her face screwed up a little—though the expression was hidden. Mask in hand, she decided to put it back on.
When they were dismissed she had almost made it out when she heard her name. Stopping in place—her being the last one out of the room—she found herself completely frozen as the Director's words slammed into her like a truck. Steadying herself with a hand on the doorframe, terror looming just like the 'shadow' of silvery light that had enshroaded Director Kens. She couldn't see it with her back turned, but she could feel it. She knew it was there, but was too shocked and terrified to banish it.
—fat(energy storage, cushion, soft, deformable), nerves(electricity, chemical impulse, fragility)—"NO!" She shouted, before falling abruptly silent, stunned by her own loudness. The 'shadow's' silver visage fled backwards through a wall and disappeared, but she could still hear it rattling off material information in her mind as it moved further and further away. She commanded it go upwards till it was in the air, where it had limited materials to analyze. She made it stay there and then, around the twisted knot of dread in her gut, she spoke.
Her voice came out quiet, but audible, "S-sorry. I...I'll try," she swallowed hard and didn't turn back to look at the Director. Her fingers were bent into claws where she was gripping the doorframe.
After a few moments she managed to move and when she did so she ran and didn't stop. Only once she nearly got to the exit did someone stop her and tell her she was still in costume. She'd somehow forgotten...despite the mask. Despite the fit of the clothes. Letting the woman lead her to a changing room, Evelyn waited and took the change of clothes. The woman, gently, suggested she shower. Evelyn couldn't work up the nerve or the will to say no so she disrobed and got in.
She could barely feel the water, instead she was more aware of whenever the 'shadow' of light moved faintly to try and return to her. She stopped it every time...and recoiled whenever she had to. Several times she almost slipped and hurt herself.
Once she had finished cleaning and dressing—the actions methodical and automatic, her mind on autopilot—she emerged to find that the woman had arranged a ride for her. There were tears in her eyes again at the kindness, but she couldn't thank her. Couldn't speak, because if she did it meant thinking...and thinking meant.
No.
No. No. No. No.
She wrapped her arms around herself in the backseat. For a few minutes the driver tried to make idle conversation, but eventually they decided to just turn some music on and hum quietly. It was only when they arrived at her house and Evelyn got out of the car that she realized she'd gotten a ride from them before. She realized that normally they were friendly despite her only been 17 and the man being much older. It was like talking to her grandpa, she remembered.
She felt a brief guilt, that then turned crushing. She blinked, now staring at the door of her house. She was about to knock, then remembered she had a key, but couldn't get it out, her hands clumsy.
The 'shadow' moved. She froze. After two minutes, frozen there, wrestling with her emotions...and her power. Her terrible, terrible power.
The door opened. It was her mom and before she could try to move or say anything, she was in a hug. Before she could register that, they moved to the couch and she suddenly realized she was crying. Again.
Crying again.
Stupid. Weak. Useless.
She could smell her mom's perfume...and her dad's cologne.
The thoughts drifted away, she felt detached from the warmth and the love, but also wrapped in it. Almost smothered, but it was good.
They wouldn't talk about what happened that day. They'd talk when she was ready. She wouldn't realize she'd fallen asleep in her mother's embrace until she woke in her own bed, feeling confused, but comfortable.
She'd have her favorite breakfast that day and ice cream...and just about anything she asked for. Normally her parents were less doting, but they knew what to do when she was sick or upset. She loved them for it.
Especially now, even when she felt so numb and useless and terrible. Even with the storm of emotions and turbulent deprecation in her mind, they gave her warmth and love...and she could even feel some of it.
Hopefully it would be enough.
The silver light, its form a thin veil over her house, said otherwise.
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