[Amoren] Groundwork

[Degare]

TIMESTAMP: 22nd Solace, Glade 4622 - 12:36
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It was strange and maybe foolish to allow a random person from the street to stay with him. Unlike Arkash, he didn’t really have an ‘official’ reason for being there. The lie there was that the Rathor was employed by him as Necrodoctor– for Vivian…? All he could really say was, ‘well you can never have too many servants,’ and not much else. Oh well, whatever. He’d wormed his way out of rumors and criticism for decades, people can talk if they want.

It’d been roughly two days since this new individual arrived and the Veirfigured now was as good a time as ever to go and see where he’d like to start in regards to his learning. With long, graceful strides the elf crosses from the east wing to the west wing of his house and makes his way down to the far end of the second floor where the servants slept. By now, he knew which room Vivian had chosen.

Before he enters, he knocks on the door briefly to announce his presence. If it were locked, he’d use his master key to open it. Degare has never been a man known for his patience. Once he’d crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him, the silver elf would lean against it and pose a question. “In terms of magic, there’s not really…structure to it. We can start anywhere you’d like– Mentalism and Bane would be easy to demonstrate for you. Alternatively, I can start by teaching you to write. What say you…? I figure I should have you learn at your pace. Generally works better than way, in my experience, at least…” His tone is generally amiable.

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

Vivian was settled in his room. He was experimenting, really. The fireplaces were rife with charcoal, which mixed with a little tallow filched from the kitchen and firmed up with beeswax made his trademark dark eye makeup. He was getting the balance right; making cosmetics in the street was difficult. Many whores just used straight lampblack, but that could cause eye infections and some people had a bad reaction. Beeswax was best, stolen from the drippings in clients’ houses or bars.

Vivian had taken a small cup from the kitchen, and poured out three tins in discarded dented cups the servants had tossed out. Now he waited. This new mixture was something he’d test on the inside of a wrist. He had also taken some mica from the garden outside, which was always a risk, and rose petals. A small candle was boiling the rose petals inside a teacup mixed with more beeswax for his lip stain; the mangled corpse of a candle lay nearby.

Vivian startled when he heard the door opening and turned from his work. He was just dressed in his pants, requisitely full of holes, and his patched coat was flung over a chair nearby. Vivian blew out the candle heating the rose petals. He needed that to firm up anyway, but he wasn’t sure how Degare would take having weird objects stolen from around the house.

Thankfully the elf got right to business.

Vivian weighed his options. “I want to know what’s happening with me. Why I can feel creatures like no one else can. I want to know what I’m doing if I…lose myself staring at something. It’s dangerous. I lose track of time and self. My world becomes that creature, if just for a moment. It almost happened with you the…other day.” He cleared his throat. “I think we can do some reading exercises too.”

[Degare]

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The Veir did little more than raise a brow at whatever Vivian was doing. He appeared to be making something– cosmetics if he was going to guess. Rose petals, wax, charcoal…none of that was of substantial value. Might irk the woman who tended the roses just a bit but…oh well. As long as he wasn’t outright destroying the plant or picking every bloom, he assumed it would be fine.

Degare waited for the younger man to voice his preferences in regards to his learning. When he did, the Ferrier canted his head a bit to the side in consideration. While not a Malformist himself, he did know a few over the years. He’d also spent a fairly large amount of time studying the intricacies of every mark. That is, every mark that was well documented. Some weren’t– like his own third mark. With that one, he was somewhat reliant on Arkash to enlighten him on what he can do. The others? He could remember most of the skills, most of the concepts well enough. What Vivian described sounded, to him, like the concept of immersion mixed with the skill Imprint.

His gaze drifted back to Vivian, “Ah…I can see how that would be confusing. Malformity is such a cruel mark to give away and then explain nothing. Honestly, I’d think somebody afflicted the way you were would end up falling to depersonalization or keeling over to the stress put on their bodies by molding. Shows your innate resonance with the mark to have adapted so well knowing so little,” his words flowed with a tone akin to musing, almost as if he’s talking to himself– but the comment at the end was delivered in a softer, warmer voice. “Anyways, I think you’re describing the skill of Imprint? The trance, at least. To start, though, one of the core concepts used in Malformity is called ‘Immersion.’ Without it, your Mark would function quite poorly. For that, one need only take the time to understand the animal they wish to take the form of– some level of empathy for the creature and its way of life is required as well as an understanding of it on an anatomical level. These things can be gained from simple observation or reading of a text about the beast, but many Malformists will claim the only true way to immerse yourself with a creature is to interact with it in the flesh. Whichever method you choose, this part is important. It affects the next concept, ‘Synchrony.’” He pauses for a moment to let the other actually pause and think about what he just said before continuing.

“ ‘Synchrony’ refers mostly to how well you can use your animal forms, also called ‘Molds’ more officially. A mage with low Synchrony, so to speak, will have trouble adapting to their body once they take on the Mold. To ‘raise’ your Synchrony, you use the previous concept of Immersion. The better you understand the creature you’re taking the form of, the better you will be able to make use of your new anatomy. I think you’ve grasped these two at least on an instinctual level given how easily you took the form of a flea and attempted to escape,” the last bit is spoken with a more amused tone and punctuated with soft laughter. “To circle back to the trance-like state you described, though, that is very likely you Imprinting on a beast unknowingly. You sound like a rather astute observer so your Imprint should net you a fairly solid ‘blueprint’ in that case. To describe the skill it’s…essentially, it’s your brain analyzing the animal of your choice and communicating etherically with the Mark on your soul to store the information for use with your magic. Does that make sense?” He could never tell if he’d said too little or too much. “As for using it on people, I’m surprised that it even worked on me,” he spoke with a coquettish expression, voice a bit playful. “As far as I’m aware, only truly legendary Malformists ever get the ability to take another person’s shape.”

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

“Immersion…” Vivian mused out loud. It made sense considering the sensation of sinking into the creature. When he had done it with Bara he felt everything about the mule; his strong legs and large breaths, his soft nose and swishing tail. Even the flea he had empathized with; an armored mother scrimping and scraping through the dirty parts of the world like he was. It had changed his perspective on animals in general, and Vivian preferred them to people in many cases. A beast was honest about its intentions. People were not.

Vivian weighed the idea of seeing an animal from a book. “I would agree with that…I can’t imagine seeing an animal in a book and knowing it as well as I do my mule. I needed to see him, to smell him. I wanted to press my ear against his side and hear him breathe. You can’t do that with a picture book. Or…I feel like the form would be weak. Like I wouldn’t know it well enough to hold it.” He said carefully.

He listened carefully. So the more he knew a form the better it would get. That was logical, anyway. He resolved to work more with Bara. He wanted to understand his friend, and being able to shift more seamlessly into that powerful form would only help him. The reverse might also be true; if he knew more, he could help Bara if he became sick.

He recalled back to feeling Degare, and blushed a bit. “It…it only worked a little. I could feel how strong you were, the temperature of your skin. I could hear every breath you took and your rib cage spreading as you breathed. But I lost it the more I tried to reach for it. It was difficult, so I let it go.” He explained awkwardly, and looked up at Degare. “That frightened me. I don’t want to do that with clients.”

Vivian cleared his throat. “So what did you do to strengthen your skills? In…whatever your magic disciplines are. We didn’t have much familiarity with mages at the brothel.” He said carefully. “Maybe I could practice forms? Or…maybe you could show me what you do with your magic? Mentalism…what is that?”

[Degare]

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The Veir brings the back of a hand to his chin in consideration of Vivian’s response relative to learning about a beast from a text versus in person. “I couldn’t really say, personally– I’ve been a scholar my entire life so books and the like are how I’ve collected most of my knowledge…that, and I’m no Malformist. I can imagine that they’d miss finer details, especially since some authors aren’t…adequately descriptive.” These words are once again said musingly, and that along with the fact that his amber gaze is on nothing in particular can give the impression that he’s speaking to nobody in particular. “Whatever helps you learn best, though, is the method I’d pick…it’s different for everyone and the like.” This sentiment, however, was spoken directly towards his companion.

Additionally, he does appear to be interested when the subject of the conversation is directed back towards himself. When Vivian finished expressing his thoughts on the matter, the first few notes of a laugh are pulled from his chest as his eyes drift closed, if only for a moment. “Fascinating…Feels odd, knowing that I was perceived that way, though. I will add– please, if you ever do figure out how to copy a person’s visage…I request that you don’t take mine,” his tone shifted from mildly flirtatious to completely serious by the time he made the last request; his innate paranoia forced him to say that.

When his company voices his final queries, the Veir appears lost in thought for a moment as he considers them. “Ah…I have Bane and Mentalism. Bane was…rather varied– I got that mark from…um…somebody important to me a long time ago. He was a mentor of sorts in regards to my learning, so he kind of handheld me through the spellwork. Mentalism I learned very young…from my parents and I learned from them. But as for…methods…? Really, you just want to figure out what your Mark is capable of casting and then work up from there.” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “For example with Mentalism, when you start, all you have is the Weave and two simple abilities, Compel and Impel. So…that’s what I worked with.”

As if to demonstrate, a shimmering, translucent crystalline shape surrounded a book that had been left out on a nearby table. By the command of his Neurocrux, Degare elevated it into the air and used Compel to draw it towards him. Now, the book levitates gently in the air in front of him. “The crystalline disturbance you see surrounding the book is called ‘Weave’ and the ability I use to move it around is called ‘Compel.’ There’s two main facets of Mentalism…the Weave is one of them and is psychokinetic in nature. The second is the more cerebral branch of the magic– a Mentalist can manipulate the emotions of others by using things called Tethers or constructs called Obelisks,” in the middle of saying this, the Weave surrounding the book dissipated with a pulse of ether as it is flung through the air to land over on Vivian’s bed. “That’s Impel– similar to Compel but not the same; it’s using Weave to throw or launch an item forward. When I first started, the Weave was all I had and was…fairly draining for me to use, so I spent time mostly manipulating small objects with it.” Once he finished speaking here, he paused to shift through his memory as he tried to think about what order a Malformist would learn their skills.

“I suppose I should start by asking…what are you aware that you can do? I’ve seen you transform into a mold and I know that you can imprint…but what else? Other concepts encapsulated by Malformity include partial transformations, mixed transformations, the addition of limbs and body parts to your human form and so on…have you done any of that?” Feeling compelled to offer some examples, he just starts listing things– he’s not entirely sure how deep Vivian’s skillset goes.

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

“I don’t think I could pull you off if I tried.” Vivian admitted truthfully. The idea of being in another man’s skin made his own crawl. He didn’t want to be inside Degare’s head even incidentally. Something told him that dark things lurked deep in that skull of his. He could imagine it for a brief moment: the predatory scent coming off Degare, the freezing eyes that promised no empathy, strength and age and power. He backed away from that almost as quickly as he put it on; like wearing a piece of clothing with irritating fabric.

He shuddered off the mental image in time to see Degare pull a book toward him, then fling it to the bed. Compel and Impel. He recognized the crystalline structure. “That was what you used to trap me when I was a flea, isn’t it?” He asked curiously. “I recognize the crystal prison, except you’re surrounding an object and not a living thing.”

Manipulate the emotions of others. He frowned, recalling their pairing and his unexpected dropping of his guard. Had Degare been using Mentalism on him? Why would he have done so then treated him so callously? He pushed that idea away too.

“Partial and mixed transformations…no. I didn’t know we could. I was given the power by my first client. I didn’t know what it was, just that I had to keep breathing. I was in terrible pain for days and when it was over the brothel I was born in threw me out on the street. I think something happened; I was trapped in that room for three days.” He said quietly, not expecting Degare to notice or care the distant look in his eyes. It had been the worst experience of his life. He had lost himself utterly and completely, watching his form dissolve and reform in the worst sort of metamorphosis.

Vivian chewed his lip. “I could try a partial transformation with Bara’s form. It’s the one I’m most familiar with.” He offered. He focused on the ears. His own, rounded and shell-like, with little nooks and curves designed to direct sound. Then he focused on Bara’s ears. Long, graceful tapered things filled with cushy soft fur. He focused on the bullae at the bottom, and felt new muscles attaching to his own ears. They lengthened and folded in a bit more, filling in with fluffy caramel fur.

After a moment Vivian opened his eyes and flicked a pair of very real asinine ears forward. He grinned at Degare. He could hear so much better as well! He flicked them experimentally, rotating them to hear sounds of the birds outside or the servants, or Degare breathing. “I didn’t know I could do just part…” he breathed aloud.

[Degare]

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‘I don’t think I could pull you off if I tried.’ At that, the Veir laughed– warm and musical. That’s true…even if you wear somebody’s skin, if you don’t act like them…you’ll raise suspicions. Especially in Daravin where the average person is much more aware of the limits of magic. “That’s true…and my fellow Entente are more adept at detecting magical manipulation than the average person. It wouldn’t be easy to impersonate any Veir– or a higher title, for that matter. It’s hard to even get away with playing games involving Mentalism, people can just…tell. Really takes the fun out of it, though, I think,” at first his tone returns to musing, but by the end it’s faux disappointment crossed with his own amusement.

When Vivian identifies the crystalline Weave, “Yes. Weave is just…physical space manipulated by a Mentalist. That’s the only way I can really describe it, but anything within the crystal confines of the weave I have control of. I can push, pull, suspend, edit, crush…and much more to anything inside of that little pocket of space.” As he spoke, he noted an odd expression on the younger man’s face when he’d mentioned the emotional aspect of the magic. “...I should add, the tethers I used on you, I snapped them fairly immediately. Tethers can also be used to peer into another’s mind and look at something known as a ‘Mural.’ Everyone has one. It's…kind of a mental representation of yourself that your brain compiles unconsciously. It’ll shift as you learn, age, create new memories, go through major changes. Small addendums are also made based on your current mood. I only tethered you to look at yours and no more, so anything you’ve felt in my company is your own, rest assured,” Degare punctuates that sentence with a playful wink. “As a gesture of good faith, if you’d like to see my Mural I can show you. That is…if you trust me enough to let me Tether you again.” His tone is rather warm when he floats the offer across.

It’s clear that Vivian was left to simply fend for himself in regards to magic. The Ferrier wonders how he even made it as far as he did in terms of developing his skill knowing so little…but it was interesting to think about nonetheless. “Yes…that sounds fairly normal as far as Malformity initiations go. Generally, they can last anywhere between two to seven days during which you are reduced to a rather primal state. The magic within the Mark itself also runs fairly wild and haphazard over that time, shifting and giving you strange modifications or animalistic features that can be painful, disturbing or both. I…really can’t imagine how it’d feel to go through that and not know what’s happening.” Oddly enough, his voice is audibly empathetic towards Vivian. “Every mark has an initiation procedure like that, though it’s worth noting that Malformity is the longest in terms of duration. There are others that can kill you within minutes or are excruciatingly painful, but none take quite as much time. I don’t…really remember Mentalism’s truth be told, I only know of it what I’ve read at this point,” he says this with an embarrassed sounding laugh at the end. “To be fair, though– I went through that initiation when I was three. Bane’s is…interesting. You get cloaked in Ethos, something that feels like a cold silken cloth, and it wraps tightly around you like a cocoon. At the same time, your lungs fill with Ashes– another concept utilized by Bane– but for the purposes of this explanation, you can think of them as literal Ashes…just cold, like snow. Slowly, your respiratory system will fill until you suffocate and die. That is, unless you force yourself to channel ether through your brand new mark to create Pathos in your palm– the third primary concept of Bane. If you can, you must bring your hand to your face and eat it. All the while, you are being assaulted by the screaming voices and memories of the dead. It feels eternal, really, but only lasts as long as you can hold your breath.” While there wasn’t much of a point in giving a detailed explanation of this one, he…remembered it fondly at this point.

After he finished this long winded explanation, Vivian suggests that he could try partially transforming into a part of Bara– the name Degare recognized as being that of his mule. “Yes, that concept is simply called ‘Integrate’ and it’s supposed to be the first thing you learn, do go ahead.” At that, the younger man appears to lose himself in concentration and his ears lengthen and shift into that of his beloved friend.

As he adjusts his newly transformed ears, he appears genuinely pleased with himself. In some ways, it reminded the Ferrier of how he felt when discovering new tricks with his own magic and pulled a subtle, unconscious smile across his lips. “See if you can add a part from a different Mold, now. More than one at once is Chimerism and is considered more advanced, so if you can do that you’ve done quite well for yourself given your ignorance.”

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

“…What are the Entente? This is a world I…haven’t really been privy to.” Vivian explained awkwardly. He had heard mention of the Entente, but games in Daravin were beyond him. At least, at the moment they were. It was certainly a fascinating thing. One day he had been on the streets focusing on where his next meal would come from. The next day he was talking with one of Daravin’s elite about their magics. Life was certainly odd.

He frowned at the idea of having a…Tether placed on him. “I’d like it if you asked permission the next time instead of just roaming around in my head.” He said carefully. Mentalism sounded dangerous, and Degare had already peeked into his psyche by the sound of it. Vivian was rather curious. What did his own Mural look like? He didn’t want to see Degare’s. He imagined something drenched in blood and raw meat, like an abattoir. There was something so off about the man he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Maybe he should look if only to protect himself. Vivian was rather observant.

“Perhaps after we finish here I can see your…Mural.” Vivian agreed, and listened. The description of his inception into Malformity sounded accurate. “It was three days for me. The bedsheets he wrapped around me like a cocoon, and I…added to it. Sweat, blood, even my own saliva. It was darkness and warmth, and when I let myself go I…lost my form. I lost me. When I came to my senses I had to chew my way free of it. It had been days; everything stunk and Im still not sure if the body I’m in now is the same one I started with.”

Degare sounded empathetic enough. He even laughed when he recalled his own struggles with Mentalism. Vivian knew better. There were tiny little snaps of the man that told more about the whole. Those cold moments where he grew serious and ordered Vivian to keep secrets. “You don’t have to act that way with me, you know. Put on this front like you’re someone friendly or caring.” He said softly. “I know what it’s like to fake yourself to appeal to others. It’s your home, I knew what I was getting involved with.”

With that, he shut his eyes again. His long mule ears pinned back in concentration. Slowly, armor began shivering its way out of his skin like stone summoned up from loose soil. Chitinous armor, beautifully iridescent gold in color, layered like scales over his forearms, shoulders, and in tiny scales across his cheeks. Even the mule ears shook off their fur and became scaly and gold, giving Vivian the look of an ethereal, strange figure.

“Well?” He asked. It was difficult to hold. He felt like he had to expend effort to keep it part of himself, and the more he tried the more the form bucked against his control. After a few precious minutes, his ears shrunk to normal and the golden scales were sloughed off into glittering dust.

[Degare]

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Leaning back against the door, arms across his chest and one foot on its heel across the other, the Veir laughs at the question. ‘What are Entente?’ “Wait, are you foreign? How have you made it more than a year here without hearing the word? …Regardless, ‘Entente’ refers to the entirety of Daravin’s noble caste. Valran, Veir, Montese, Treveyn and then the Royals. There’s only four Treveyn, nine Montese and the vast majority of Entente are Valran. Then, there’s a pretty large power disparity between lesser Veiren and land owning Veiren. I sit at the top of the Veir caste, if you’re curious.” Despite his shock at the other not knowing the word, he offers his explanation in a fairly amiable tone of voice.

At the notion of permission in regards to Tethers, the man chuckles a bit. He was somewhat haphazard in extending people that courtesy. In recent memory, there’s only two people he’d remembered asking. One was Arkash and the other…Taelian. Arkash because…well, he was Arkash, and Taelian because a three hundred pound Draedan could smash him to pieces if he was upset. “Sure, didn’t ask the first time because I didn’t plan on keeping you around,” he spoke casually along with a light shrug of his shoulders.

Tapping his chin with his knuckles in thought, “I can show you whenever, you need all but ask.” He wasn’t quite sure how his Mural would come across to the younger man– he recalls the reactions of others he’d shown it to and theirs varied fairly heavily.

Describing his initiation, Degare thought for a second. “Rest assured…through all your body's changes, you did return to yourself– that much is evident in the fact that you lived. If you were unable to regress back into your normal form…well, your life wouldn’t have lasted much longer.” This, too, is expressed somewhat casually. However in this case, that’s because as a noble in Daravin, he’s more than used to people dying to initiations. A lot of families had lots of kids for precisely this reason. Many of them died in initiations as they grew up, and many of those unfortunate souls had been those the Ferrier had cared for in his youth.

When Vivian told him not to ‘pretend’ to emote, again, he laughed. “Oh, yes…of course. This is my house and within it, I act as I please. I won’t lie to you and pretend I’m not a monster– but I will grant you this: monsters are not without their own feelings. I am still just a man, after all. I promise, I’m just as prone to feeling every little bit of emotion that you are. It’s just…” he trails off at that, as if considering how he wants to phrase the rest of this explanation. “...from childhood, Entente are taught that emotions are a weakness, see? So we suppress them. Empathy and sympathy are slowly stripped away during our youth until we’re all just as heartless as everyone else who reaches maturity. That’s just the way of things,” the man speaks of these things as if they are normal, because to him, they are. Yet at the same time, there’s an unspoken bitterness…a silent spite buried in his features.

As he spoke, Vivian tried to add another creature’s attributes onto what he already had. He couldn’t really place what creature this was– just that the material was chitin. Some sort of insect, perhaps? It really was fairly pretty– armor-like, golden and shining in the soft light that shined through the curtains of the room. As Degare was about to respond, all of his beast features faded. This must be around the level of skill that would be ideal for him to practice with.

“So that is your limit, then? Since that’s the case…there’s a couple other things you should also be able to do. Embodying, Therianthropy and Warging. Embodying is just…channeling an extra pulse of ether into your transformation for the purpose of speeding it up. That’s pretty much all there is to it. Therianthropy is the concept of adding parts you otherwise do not have. Wings, tails, extra limbs and the like. As for Warging…that one requires you to be in the presence of a creature you’ve imprinted upon. You can use it to see through the beast’s eyes while your body remains in a deep trance-like state. This is mostly used, I think, to increase immersion…although I’m sure a creative Malformist may come up with other uses.” If there’s anything else he’s forgotten about this stage of Malformity, he doesn’t remember.

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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"

[Vivian]

So he’d guessed right on several counts. First, that Veir Socorro was high up in the noble classes. Secondly, that the Entente were evil. He had heard of noble families killing their children; where did he think their broken bodies ended up? Quietly disposed in the slums if their families were disappointed enough in them, buried in false funerals if they weren’t. Vivian had talked to enough grave diggers to learn a few horror stories of twisted bodies hidden away in caskets. He shuddered. What sort of monstrous people could do that to their own children? Even lowborn people treated children like things to be prized, if ever they lived that long, and Vivian knew several families that took excellent care of them.

At the very least, Veir Socorro was honest. He hadn’t intended on keeping him around at first, and that had changed somewhat or Vivian sensed they’d not be talking. He began to piece what he knew together; Veir Socorro had been crafted into a monster. It was likely Mentalism had been forced on him in some way or another, likely through intimidation and manipulation beginning at childhood. The damage one could do to a child by convincing it emotions were weakness…it was astounding to think about.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. All of it. I can’t imagine being raised to be a soulless monster.” Vivian told him. He wasn’t likely to stop treating Degare like a dog he barely had at bay, but he at least knew why the man’s personality tended to vary wildly.

“Therianthropy…adding wings or tails.” He muttered. He stood up and paced the room for a moment, thinking. Then again, reaching into that well of magic inside of himself. This time he thought of that strange golden beetle from his initiation. He remembered how those shields had snapped open and diaphanous black wings unfolded. He unfolded them not from under shields, but they crackled and broke through his skin as though hidden there all along. He expanded them out, just beyond his calves.

The wings were veined in black, and whispered dryly as he moved them. He flexed them experimentally, opening them halfway and turning his back so Degare could see properly. He wasn’t sure about any flight capabilities, but he had to admit…they were fetching.