That's what I had heard from Caleb, but I can't even imagine it. Even the places where magic isn't an "affliction" don't put it on a pedestal of authority.
[He doesn't have much experience getting into it with the government, but he is like. Aware that they run things, mostly. Hard not to.]
Sure. I mean, I think of mages as the type who do all sorts of spells. I've just got a few I sort of ... know how to do, because I'm a tiefling and all. And then some more tricks that I don't really know where I got.
[He's a Blood Hunter, but he doesn't-- know what that fuckin' is either. But on the topic of blood, well,
It’s chaos.
This bloody dirt road, the middle of fucking nowhere. Ice still shimmers off one of the carts - why hadn’t she fucking warned you that Lorenzo was a spell caster? - there’s shouts and screams and orders being barked through the air. You can’t see Nott. You can’t see Caleb, but you can hear someone yelling off, not too far away. What was her name? Keg? Is practically cowering, paralyzed with fear somewhere across the way.
You can see Beau, scrambling to? From? Somewhere. She’s going somewhere, but it isn’t-
Between you. a man. Lorenzo. You know his name. That he has your friends captured, somewhere. Somehow. You have to stop him, and,
It’s too fucking close is what it is. She’s bleeding too. You’re bleeding, the eye on your hand is dripping, making holding your sword a little difficult and you think
Fuck
There’s the brief flash of bright pain you always feel when you use the Maledict, that’s familiar, but this time it digs a little too deep, it cuts too far and you’re on your ass before you can tell what’s happening.
Lorenzo turns to you, readying that nasty looking glaive
You can feel -
Blood splatters out of your mouth with the impact.
You grip at the blade at the end of the weapon - the part that’s not stuck eight inches deep in your chest - uselessly. the blood on your hands making it slick, the eye bleeding, and bleeding and bleeding—
It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt, is the thing you think to yourself, blade in your chest, back on the ground, looking up at this man - his boot on your stomach now, except of course. It hurts. You gasp for air, but there’s only more blood.
“An example it is.”
He looks down at you, leaning in close - as his hand tightens on the grip of his weapon it begins to twist. Excruciating pain. You’re dead. You’re dead and your brain, your heart, your betrayer of a body hasn’t quite caught the message yet.
Your mouth fills with blood again and you spit in his face. It hits with a splatter and he turns, only briefly, reaching up to touch it.
It’s cold today. It’s still morning, and it’s cold. snow is starting to fall. The man - Lorenzo - smirks down at you, wipes the blood from his face
“Respect.”
Then he twists the blade hard and you not so much hear as feel a crack.
[ don't like that, don't like that, don't like that.
and she hasn't asked caleb about what's up with the three of them, but just observing them in public, she's definitely caught... something. something is strange about the way the other two are around mollymauk. or at least, it was when they first arrived. she's willing to guess that this is relevant.
but what do you even say?
she's watched people die before, but never from their own perspective. but was it - did he think he was dying? did he actually die? she can't rule out either, with this place. ]
Ah... The same offer applies. If you would... Rather not discuss that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ ... huh... ]
... You can have spells and not be a mage?
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[He doesn't have much experience getting into it with the government, but he is like. Aware that they run things, mostly. Hard not to.]
Sure. I mean, I think of mages as the type who do all sorts of spells. I've just got a few I sort of ... know how to do, because I'm a tiefling and all. And then some more tricks that I don't really know where I got.
no subject
Tieflings are inherently magical? I... I think our magic must work in very different ways. How can you not know where your "tricks" come from?
no subject
Do you know where your tricks come from?
no subject
no subject
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no subject
[He's a Blood Hunter, but he doesn't-- know what that fuckin' is either. But on the topic of blood, well,
It’s chaos.
This bloody dirt road, the middle of fucking nowhere. Ice still shimmers off one of the carts - why hadn’t she fucking warned you that Lorenzo was a spell caster? - there’s shouts and screams and orders being barked through the air. You can’t see Nott. You can’t see Caleb, but you can hear someone yelling off, not too far away. What was her name? Keg? Is practically cowering, paralyzed with fear somewhere across the way.
You can see Beau, scrambling to? From? Somewhere. She’s going somewhere, but it isn’t-
Between you. a man. Lorenzo. You know his name. That he has your friends captured, somewhere. Somehow. You have to stop him, and,
It’s too fucking close is what it is. She’s bleeding too. You’re bleeding, the eye on your hand is dripping, making holding your sword a little difficult and you think
Fuck
There’s the brief flash of bright pain you always feel when you use the Maledict, that’s familiar, but this time it digs a little too deep, it cuts too far and you’re on your ass before you can tell what’s happening.
Lorenzo turns to you, readying that nasty looking glaive
You can feel -
Blood splatters out of your mouth with the impact.
You grip at the blade at the end of the weapon - the part that’s not stuck eight inches deep in your chest - uselessly. the blood on your hands making it slick, the eye bleeding, and bleeding and bleeding—
It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t hurt, is the thing you think to yourself, blade in your chest, back on the ground, looking up at this man - his boot on your stomach now, except of course. It hurts. You gasp for air, but there’s only more blood.
“An example it is.”
He looks down at you, leaning in close - as his hand tightens on the grip of his weapon it begins to twist. Excruciating pain. You’re dead. You’re dead and your brain, your heart, your betrayer of a body hasn’t quite caught the message yet.
Your mouth fills with blood again and you spit in his face. It hits with a splatter and he turns, only briefly, reaching up to touch it.
It’s cold today. It’s still morning, and it’s cold. snow is starting to fall. The man - Lorenzo - smirks down at you, wipes the blood from his face
“Respect.”
Then he twists the blade hard and you not so much hear as feel a crack.
Your eyes never shut.
And then it’s over. ]
no subject
and she hasn't asked caleb about what's up with the three of them, but just observing them in public, she's definitely caught... something. something is strange about the way the other two are around mollymauk. or at least, it was when they first arrived. she's willing to guess that this is relevant.
but what do you even say?
she's watched people die before, but never from their own perspective. but was it - did he think he was dying? did he actually die? she can't rule out either, with this place. ]
Ah... The same offer applies. If you would... Rather not discuss that.