[It's fine neither does Molly. I mean. Better than Harrow, but he's not an expert.]
Might as well be. [Sniff.] My blood does funny stuff. Put it on a blade, it hurts more. Glows sometimes, which makes-- well. Undead things hurt even more.
[He'll hold out the hand that ends with the snakehead tattoo. The red eye on the back and another on the palm.]
Different ones do different things I think. Or at least, different ones bleed with different spells. Curses and the like.
[Oh, hmm, yes. There's plenty she's only vaguely aware of, like the suspicious stuff on his profile. He's two years old, has a dead man's memories, and specializes in dying and undying. It isn't so difficult to figure out he may have a dead man's powers, too. But she'll let him brush past it.]
Obviously. But it is an impressive skill to master.
[Sure! Mastered them! Definitely! Let's call it that. He huffs a small laugh.]
I say this honestly, your approval means the world. [He seems a little sarcastic. But only a little! But then more sincerely:] I'm sure you're quite the sight in full-pitch battle. Would like to see it one day. All the bones and such.
. . . Ah. Thank you. For talking about anything else right now.
It ought to. I don't offer it lightly. And I am a sight. Perhaps I'll show you in the simulator, if you earn it.
[At his statement of thanks, her ears go a little red, and her face becomes a little pinched and desperate, and she suddenly starts talking a little more quickly.]
. . . Or perhaps I'll tell you how the last man who crossed me fared. The Saint of Duty has tried to kill me dozens of times. His power over me was such that he could destroy my wards with a thought, undo my healing a dozen times with his sword before I can protect myself. I could rip an ordinary man apart from inside out, but the interior of a Lyctor, his bones and organs, is unseeable and untouchable to me.
So I cut out a piece of my tibia and used the marrow to prepare him a soup. When he ate it, expecting nothing, I grew my marrow inside of him into a skeleton construct and tore him apart from within. Only the intervention of God saved his life.
[Sorry this is so funny. His friend was lavafied hours ago but this is the funniest story he's ever heard. The soup lore is putting him back directly into the fucking grave.
This offers so many questions. How did she get her fucking bone out of her body without passing out. A Lyctor???? Why would the Saint guy eat her soup in the first place. Someone managed to survive being skeleton exploded! Harrow has healing magic?]
Quick question: what the fuck?
[he doesnt question the intervention of god thing thats just a thing that happens sometimes]
[She thought he'd like that story, even though she has to act mad that he's acting like it's funny instead of cool. It's honestly not. . . a funny story at all, actually, but it is extremely wild and she knows it.]
[It is a cool story. But also. Pure insanity. So much has happened. His smooth, clown brain has had to process so much information over the past weekend.]
Actually, it does all rather make sense in the context that this is very much the type of high drama you mage lots get up to while the rest of us mill about, I don't know, punching each other or twirling slightly enchanted swords as a sideshow.
There are some things a typical necromancer can't do without a cavalier by their side. [Something about the way she says 'typical necromancer' suggests she doesn't consider herself included in that.] But it does lack for poetry.
[harrows talking about some level 15 shit here where you start developing the powers to fight and kill gods so really this is all above his head but he very much enjoys the stories]
Cavalier? I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's someone to take some punches, yeah?
. . . Yes. Necromancer and cavalier is the traditional partnership. Typically, a necromancer is powerless without thanergy to fuel their power. A cavalier fights with physical combat, and opens sources of death for the necromancer to use. A necromancer like myself, who is heir to one of the nine houses, would be aided by my House's cavalier primary. A position of historical prestige and honour.
Well, yes. That too, certainly. Though my cavalier lacked the 'shield' portion quite decisively. For the Ninth, the prestige of the post truly was only a historical matter.
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no subject
. . . Is that really how you discovered your power? How does it work, anyway?
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Might as well be. [Sniff.] My blood does funny stuff. Put it on a blade, it hurts more. Glows sometimes, which makes-- well. Undead things hurt even more.
[He'll hold out the hand that ends with the snakehead tattoo. The red eye on the back and another on the palm.]
Different ones do different things I think. Or at least, different ones bleed with different spells. Curses and the like.
no subject
And you don't do it consciously? I've never had the knack to do more with my own than wards.
no subject
[Hm. Oh yes. He hadn't quite explained some stuff here. Well. Brushing past it.]
I've got more control now. It was a bit of trial and error. Obviously I don't want to start bleeding myself for no reason.
no subject
Obviously. But it is an impressive skill to master.
[Grudging respect.]
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I say this honestly, your approval means the world. [He seems a little sarcastic. But only a little! But then more sincerely:] I'm sure you're quite the sight in full-pitch battle. Would like to see it one day. All the bones and such.
. . . Ah. Thank you. For talking about anything else right now.
no subject
[At his statement of thanks, her ears go a little red, and her face becomes a little pinched and desperate, and she suddenly starts talking a little more quickly.]
. . . Or perhaps I'll tell you how the last man who crossed me fared. The Saint of Duty has tried to kill me dozens of times. His power over me was such that he could destroy my wards with a thought, undo my healing a dozen times with his sword before I can protect myself. I could rip an ordinary man apart from inside out, but the interior of a Lyctor, his bones and organs, is unseeable and untouchable to me.
So I cut out a piece of my tibia and used the marrow to prepare him a soup. When he ate it, expecting nothing, I grew my marrow inside of him into a skeleton construct and tore him apart from within. Only the intervention of God saved his life.
1/2
w
wizards?????????????????????]
no subject
This offers so many questions. How did she get her fucking bone out of her body without passing out. A Lyctor???? Why would the Saint guy eat her soup in the first place. Someone managed to survive being skeleton exploded! Harrow has healing magic?]
Quick question: what the fuck?
[he doesnt question the intervention of god thing thats just a thing that happens sometimes]
no subject
Which part was unclear.
no subject
Actually, it does all rather make sense in the context that this is very much the type of high drama you mage lots get up to while the rest of us mill about, I don't know, punching each other or twirling slightly enchanted swords as a sideshow.
no subject
There are some things a typical necromancer can't do without a cavalier by their side. [Something about the way she says 'typical necromancer' suggests she doesn't consider herself included in that.] But it does lack for poetry.
no subject
Cavalier? I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's someone to take some punches, yeah?
[mages squish]
no subject
. . . Yes. Necromancer and cavalier is the traditional partnership. Typically, a necromancer is powerless without thanergy to fuel their power. A cavalier fights with physical combat, and opens sources of death for the necromancer to use. A necromancer like myself, who is heir to one of the nine houses, would be aided by my House's cavalier primary. A position of historical prestige and honour.
no subject
I've just heard "meatshield" slung about.
no subject
Well, yes. That too, certainly. Though my cavalier lacked the 'shield' portion quite decisively. For the Ninth, the prestige of the post truly was only a historical matter.