3 - Ríoghnán the Golden
3 - Ríoghnán the Golden
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
1 - The Bronze
3 - Ríoghnán the Golden
3. Golden kitty.
1 - Suibhne the Bronze
3. Golden Boy
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
After much consideration, I have reached the follow-up conclusion: what is the point of having a cat, if not for having it lord over you?
3. Kinpikat
Originally Posted by Faux, July 20th 2019
True Rider
1 - Suibhne the Bronze
I won't lie, it's entirely for this shiny 'untapped power'. I'm more about mystery boxes than J.J. Abrams.
Location: London
Time: 12:45
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Recovering
Magic Circuits: Unlocked!
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - Prologue 6
There came a time in one’s life when hard decisions needed to be made.
A time where one needed to look deep within themselves and find the answers to the hard questions. Who you are? What do you want?
Which cat do you want to take?
This was a day she had prepared years for. The realization of her family’s traditions and the search for the life long dream which she would dedicate the entirety of her being to. This should have been a moment of glory, of happiness.
Yet for all her bravado, Dolores was terrified!
“I… I’m afraid.” Dolores shamefully admitted. Truly and deeply. But it was the Root honest truth.
She didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to die. She most certainly didn’t want to have her family’s legacy ripped out of her, to be turned into some sort of trophy for a bastard who had more money than sense. She hiccuped, coughing as her eyes pricked with tears she was tired of holding back.
Since this day had started, Dolores’ heart had been put through test after test. Taken from her home by an uncaring snob who’d given no second thought as he took her to what would most certainly be her doom.
She’d put on a brave face. What else could have she done? She was a magus, yet never before had been faced with the possibility of death as closely as she’d been this morning when her life was nearly snuffed out by careless titans. An ant scurrying through the cracks as they destroyed the world around her.
It was why she chose to crawl her way here. Rather than brave the storm and attempt to do something, she chose to hide and ignore as the storm raged just out of sight.
Like a coward.
She took a steadying breath, small hands clenching anxiously.
“I… I don’t know what to do.” She hissed out, eyes puffy as she faced away from the trio of spirits. “I couldn’t do anything when mom died… I couldn’t do anything when dad died. I… just thinking about it makes me freeze.”
Screwing her eyes shut tight, the young magus tried her best to cry silently as she felt three warm bodies pressed against her. Their ghostly fur was both there and not, wisps of warmth and cold which tickled her skin and caused hairs on her arms to stand.
“Breath, child.” The king rumbled, pressing against her back. “We understand. You are yet young, not yet a fully fledged Magus. Your childhood has been stripped from you, and you see yourself surrounded by danger.”
“Indeed. Though you are not yet ready, you are out blood. Bound by sacrifice and pact, it is our duty to watch over you.” Pressing his lips against her hand, Dolores felt the warm breath and cool nose of the warrior. “You are ours to keep and protect, just as you are to give us direction and purpose.”
“Like a Midsummer’s dream, we shall pass from the waking world, forever dancing in moonbeams.” Suibhne hopped onto her shoulder, small enough to nuzzle her cheek. “We are the Cait Sith, the barrow dwellers and dancers in the night. Our entire life is cleverness and trickery and, yes, cowardice. Do not think yourself unworthy, simply because you are not ready.”
The King slunk over to the side, eyes meeting hers with an unworldly intensity.
“But we cannot make that choice for you, young one. We may protect and foster you, but the choice is ultimately yours. I suggest that you look deep within yourself, and ask what it is that you want and which one of us will better help achieve it.”
Dolores felt her heart clench.
Was it as easy as that? Finding out what she truly wanted, that is.
There were many things she would have liked. To have her parents back. To not be forced to hide because her life was in danger. To be strong enough to stand up and banish those dangers by her own hand.
But she wasn’t strong. She wasn’t brave.
She was scared.
But maybe, just maybe… she could fool herself into believing it. That she could be the strong magus her parents wanted her to be. After all, wasn’t that one of the foundations of magecraft? To lie to yourself and to the world until that lie became real?
And if that was so… then her choice became clear.
“I can’t kill the fear in my heart. I’m not brave… but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna give up. That just means I will have to do whatever I can to survive. So, Suibhne, please lend me your power. Maybe then I can trick myself into being brave… because I have to fight.”
The bronze cat purred in acknowledgement, light fur tickling her skin as the ghostly feline climbed up her back, claws hanging onto her shoulder.
“Very well, then as per the terms of our agreement, I shall be your guide and protector until there comes a time when you realize, Dolores Morella, that you are worthy of being our family now. Blood and soul.”
Suibhne bit down onto the still crying girl’s shoulder, drawing blood with needle thin fangs and lapping at the red droplets. With every pass of her tongue she grew heavier and heavier, more and more real. Eventually, the wound closed over, the faerie finished cleaning her human. Dolores promptly pulled the now snoring cat into her lap, while the other two spirits never ceased their comforting rumble.
It was a long time until she stopped crying. But, after the last tears were shed, the green haired girl climbed to her feet. Wiping her eyes dry, she gave the spirits one last hug before they too faded, only the faintest echo of their presence staying within her.
Her familiar was still out of it, though, likely worn out by the process of incarnating.
Of course, that was ok. Picking the snoozing kitten up like a baby, she carried the powerful faerie with her, dousing the flames with the spring water and ensuring that the last embers in the brazier burned out. When the room was all cold stone once more, only a hint of the smell of clover lingering, she sealed the ritual room up tight and returned to the lab.
Mother’s work was not one she’d held great affinity for. Something they’d both come to accept as she grew up.
Dolores had taken after her father, a man of spiritual inclinations. But in her both of her parent’s opinion that was no excuse to neglect her side of the family. Knowledge was knowledge, and they’d made sure to cram as much information as they could into her head. Until she could understand the insectoid brand of magecraft as well as she did her shamanic roots.
Entomopathy was the applied field of telepathicaly interfacing with insects.
Unlike the lazy, crude practices of many magi, which required that an individual leave ‘pieces’ of themselves inside an animal’s carcass in order to control its actions or reanimate its body, the Beaumont family had taken a step in a different direction. Namely, the controlled breeding of specialized strains of particular insects which could replicate, to a degree, aspects of Familiar magic.
It was a very intensive line of work, requiring extensive preparation, an intimate grasp of biology, and a willingness to join one’s mind to dozens, if not hundreds, of others. Even then it was not without a cost. A minute drain of magical energy was required to feed the bond with a swarm. Dolores had, through sheer grit and training, managed to take control of a rather appreciable number of individuals during practice. Quantity, of course, comes with the caveat of lacking fine tuned control over them.
Hence it became the family’s mission to develop the little critters into an all purpose familiar strand that could serve just about any role. A perfect being, so to speak.
An aspiration she would not be able to fulfill if she were fighting for her life with no resources.
Dolores could not risk the most complex and unique specimens reared by her predecessors. They were far too developed for her to control without practice, bearing in mind that she would also have to hide them and feed them. She just wasn’t equipped to do so if her intention was to be covert.
With her personal workshop gone, her hand tailored mystic codes stolen, and any hard assets she had left, including her training gear, it was time to use her family’s real power. She couldn’t screw around. She couldn’t screw up.
And that meant subtlety was key to maintaining her freedom at this stage of the game.
No, she would leave the larger breeds alone.
Rather, Dolores picked up a translucent jar filled with a strange black substance which seemed to shift and writhe by itself.
“Those… beings… what are they?”
The young magus brightened, a small smile aimed at her newly bonded familiar.
“Oh! You are up already, Suibhne. I thought you would be asleep a while longer.”
The bronze cat shrugged, tail swishing playfully as she glided off the girls arms, weightlessly moving through the air as if gravity held no meaning to the faerie. She pawed at the jar curiously, watching as hundreds if not thousands of grain sized ants skittered over the glass.
Perhaps creatures were so small that their synchronized movements made them seem like black sand, ever undulating and shifting.
“These are, functionally, a cross between ants, termites, and assassin bugs. They’re capable of flight, rapid reproduction, and large scale colony building. Their pheremones even act as a carrier wave for telepathic communication and, in sufficient doses, their venom is both excruciatingly painful and exceedingly lethal. Unfortunately, they are ants. A single well placed fire spell could wipe out a whole swarm of them.”
The sidhe eyed them, playful eyes unimpressed.
“Don’t seem like much. Then again, that’s what you get when you let apes play with clay.”
Dolores felt her cheeks color with embarrassment. Her decision to take the cheeky cat as her own already coming back to bite her derriere.
“They aren’t much right now. But we made them so they can grow over the course of generations. So while they are tiny and defenseless right now, if we play our cards right, they can be valuable allies.”
Suibhne let out an exasperated breath. The kind one did when putting upon with a particularly willful child.
“If you say so, kitten. But I don’t see how you’ll be able to communicate with them. Their minds are far too simple, and I doubt you can dumb down your own brain to speak on their level.”
“Of course not!” She was almost offended at the thought of lobotomizing herself. “That’s why we have this.”
Holding up a small chunk of amber, a blue spark flew from her thumb to the stone and revealed a slightly larger insect.
“Watch and learn my friend!”
She pulled out a strange leech-like creature, its segmented body looking more like a stubby centipede with hook like legs and a mucous coated underbelly which seemed to glisten with a strange green fluid. It twitched lazily, its tail end revealing a small curved stinger, thin like a needle.
Reaching back onto her nape, Dolores pulled back her shirt to reveal the spot where her neck met her spine. Gently, she placed the small critter over it, and with a quick flash of her magic circuits, released it from its torpor. The creature latched onto her body, its hooks digging deeply into her flesh, mucus eating through skin as the insect melded itself to her body.
Dolores gasped in surprise, a flash of pain causing her body to seize for a moment as her nerves flared to life.
But only for a moment.
She braced against the table, back crawling with alien sensations she would rather not dwell on.
“Well…” Her familiar started. “That was pretty gross. Not planning on getting hungry anyway.”
“I thought Sidhe didn't need physical food, Suibhne.”
The cat rolled her eyes.
“If we did, I sure would have lost my appetite.”
Dolores felt a small migraine coming on. One she wasn’t all together sure came from the psychic bug latched into her nervous system and more to deal with pure untainted exasperation.
“Well, its going to take at least an hour for it to get situated. So why don’t we go back upstairs and I will make us both a sandwich?”
It was two hours later when she was stuffing the last of the water bottles into a backpack. Almost as big as her, the black canvas pack was a godsend of a mystic code. Lighter and stronger than any mundane creation, with more space than it should feasibly hold, and invisible to anyone else, the thing was a miracle!
Most important, of course, was the fact that she now had food, water, medical supplies, her loot, clothes, a spare pair of shoes, and everything else she could think to load up with her.
Basically, so long as she wasn’t squished, she’d be fine even if the city suffered food shortages. For a week at least. And that was more than enough time to get back here.
And… she was a bit wistful.
Dolores had no idea when she’d next see the safehouse, if she’d ever see it again. So, with a grimace, she activated the modified wards, set the bugs in the basement to consume anyone that tried to break in, and took a deep breath.
“So, it’s time to get going. But where am I going?”
Her home? No, there wouldn't be anything left there by the time Bellefronte and his goons were finished sweeping it of anything valuable.
Rather, Dolores should focus on moving onward. And there was one thing she really wanted to investigate.
Her vision.
Or rather, what she thought was a vision.
As a shaman, Dolores was distinctly aware of the mechanisms through which humans could receive these premonitions. Normally through a unique trait they were born with, which allowed them to calculate possible outcomes, or select the most likely one to occur. These were particularly popular amongst psychics.
There were also Oracles, though they were few and far between. Not much was known about the actual mechanics, as their number had dwindled to naught with the decay of the Age of Gods. Theories existed ascertaining that Oracles were somehow capable of sharing the senses of otherworldly beings from higher dimensions.
And that visions were fragmented reflections of what said beings were seeing through their senses translated into what a fragile human brain could comprehend.
But she digressed.
The fact of the matter is that she never displayed any ability of the sort. And that even her mother, renowned as she was, never taught Dolores anything regarding that particular branch of her craft.
Which lead her to this question.
Was her vision real? And if so, should she do anything about it?
Even now she could still recall bits and pieces of it.
The Tower of London pierced by lightning.
A Mysterious Man watching over the city.
The strange magic circle forming over the city.
And the most concerning, that monolith and the one who’d summoned it….
There was no guarantee that what she saw was real to begin with. So the question remained. What was the best way to find out?
Choice Time!
Congratulations! You have successfully formed a contract with Suibhne the Cait Sidhe!
Congratulations! You have obtained the Myrmicidae Bellum, and Entomopathy Implant!
Mm... I’ll say 1.
Its the only one she has an actual location or lead on - looking for the man or the magic circle seem like they’d lack enough for her to go off of.
That said, nice explanation for the shamanism and familiar, even if I’m still screaming internally at the subject matter. A-Ahaha..
Looking forward to the familiar dynamics.
I'm going with 3.
2 - The Circle
Last edited by Cain12; March 13th, 2020 at 01:20 PM.
1 - The Tower
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
1. A tower being struck by lightning is too much of a great symbol aesthetic-wise to ignore.
Last edited by King Prussia; March 14th, 2020 at 01:20 PM.
1. The Tower
2 - The Circle
Location: London
Time: 12:45
I.D: Dolores Morella
Condition: Recovering
Magic Circuits: Unlocked!
Magus Profile!
Inventory!
Day 0 - Tower 1
Dolores bit her lip nervously, coming to a not so pleasant conclusion.
Most of her visions hadn’t shown her where exactly events would take place. The magic circle over London didn’t clue her in as to how it got there, the mysterious man was standing on a rooftop, away from any recognisable landmarks, and of course, the Monolith was out of question.
That left her with her only, and second worst option.
The Tower of London. Struck by lightning.
Which was a terrible, horrible idea. Lightning meant a storm, a storm meant being close to those freaks of nature again which she had barely escaped from the last time with her own life. But it was also the only visible landmark shown by her supposed vision, and that made it her only sure bet at not walking in circles around the city looking for mysterious clues like a prepubescent version of Sherlock Holmes.
She sighed, running her fingers through Suibhne’s fur.
“This is such a bad idea.”
The cat spirit, seemingly more concerned with getting his back scratched, merely nodded along with her gloomy predictions. The shaman/spirit duo had been walking down tunnels for over ten minutes now, the dark and gloomy atmosphere doing little to assuage Dolores’s own doubts regarding her choice.
“We could get caught in one of that Servant’s rampages. That would be bad. As in, we might not see the sunset, bad. And there is no guarantee he might even be there. It could be an entirely unrelated incident. Or we might be walking into some sort of ambush and get killed in the crossfire.”
It wasn’t like her mother’s Workshop could help, either.
Its defenses were entirely one sided with no ability to discern what was happening on the outside, in exchange for making it nearly invisible to those who didn’t know the entry points. Unfortunately that, combined with her inexperience, meant Dolores couldn’t use her abilities to get even a general feel for how things were going on outside of faint readings that something was going on.
For example, though she knew that the storm had seemingly calmed down since the initial blowout, the bounded field still registered rain, and the loud booming of thunder was constantly heard all over the city.
So, with no options on determining the accuracy of what she’d seen during the attack, that meant she had to go looking for it.
A small sigh needled at her ears.
“Kitten, I feel you might be working yourself over this a bit too much.” The cat sidhe jumped off her arms, feet light and silent as it prowled ahead of her.
“Suibhne, I mean no disrespect. But we are dealing with something magnitudes above a normal magus’ pay grade here. The odds we might get caught are…”
“Pitifully small.” The spirit cut her off. “You’ve told me that you were caught in the middle of a battle. Not that you were specifically targeted. That means that you were merely an unknown variable. Collateral damage.”
“Exactly.” Nodding, Dolores continued. “I can’t even think of standing up to this-”
“So don’t.” Suibhine took a long lick of her paw. “You are a young girl. You wish to ensure your teacher and lover are safe and that the Clocktower isn’t gutted. You can not fight, you do not need to fight. Therefore, move quickly and quietly and look before you leap.”
After shutting her mouth, the magus blushed.
“He’s not my lover.”
“Sure, sure.” Standing up, the faerie leapt back up into her summoner’s arms. “You may tell yourself that.”
Harumphing, and even indulging in a stomp of her foot, the youngest Morella kept walking forward. More annoyed than scared now and struggling not to either scold her cat for teasing her or thanking her partner for calming her down. Either way, she was glad the spirit was light. She’d done a lot of running earlier and Dolores knew she’d be very, very sore come tomorrow. Adding the strain of carrying a heavy familiar to that?
Too much!
“I do wish we’d had any other option but the Underground.”
Suibhne simply purred and kneaded her arms.
“Well, at least the map is simple."
After that point, she was quiet. Her partner was content to nap, still shaking off her summoning sickness, and Dolores was starting to hate the sound of her own voice. So, with the echo of her footsteps rebounding down the tunnel, the magus hoped that the lack of scared civilians meant that they’d been evacuated or were hiding and not something worse.
Their plan was simple, the better to avoid screwing up. First, they would take the Underground in order to reach the subway exit near the Tower. That would let them dodge the storm, that was still raging outside, and whatever other unpleasantness was going on above them. Her workshop wasn’t too far away from the area and while dark and unclean, the tunnels were very much abandoned, allowing her to walk unopposed.
And that meant she could move quickly. Or, rather, limp her way down the unpowered rail line. Dolores hadn’t been able to sleep and, with a meal and a shower under her belt, that meant she wanted a nap really, really badly. This much emotionally and physically intensive action was draining on a body; developmentally challenged or not!
It was still quicker than running around and dodging lightning bolts. Plus she was staying dry.
Things were finally looking up for Dolores Morella!
That was when she felt it.
Or rather, when her insect familiars started broadcasting the mental signal that likely translated into impending doom and panic. Hugging themselves onto the walls as the earth suddenly shook, powerful vibrations echoing through the underground as walls cracked around Dolores, dirt coming loose and raining down on her.
'An earthquake? Now?' Her heart skipped a beat.
Suibhne immediately jumped out of her arms.
“Kitten, something is wrong. We need to get moving!”
The duo dashed down the tunnel, taking a sharp turn as a second tremor nearly knocked Dolores off her feet. It felt stronger than the first, to the point that small pieces of rubble were pelting them as they ran.
A particularly large one nearly impaled her familiar. Rather, it went through Suibhne as the cait sidhe was an incorporeal being. Not at all like Dolores, who had to rely on her bugs to warn her of which parts of the ceiling were coming loose and where it was safe for her to step.
She thanked her lucky stars that she had the foresight to bring them along.
A third tremor, however, told her that it wouldn’t be much longer before the passage collapsed on top of her.
“We need to get out!”
The spirit darted around, its shape weaving in and out of the walls as it looked for an escape. Finally, she dropped from the ceiling, floating eye level with Dolores as she turned around another corner.
“There is some kind of barrier up ahead!”
Blinking, Dolores had a moment of sheer awkwardness.
‘A bounded field? But the Clock Tower’s defenses don’t move into the civilian areas!’
“Child! Listen to me, you have three choices. Trip the field and rush ahead, there’s sure to be someone or something, and not your Clock Tower friends either. There is also a ladder that leads to a maintenance tunnel. It seems stable for now, and a vent that goes straight to the surface. It’s risky but that last one could get us outside the fastest and the maintenance tunnel is the safest bet. What do you want to do?”
Twisting and turning, the spirit looked at her partner with both great confusion and great frustration.
Dolores bit her lip, dodging to the side to avoid a loose piece of stone and continued running.
But where to?
Choice Time!
Hmmm... 2.
1
The Act of dozing off in the afternoon is a luxury indeed.
Coffee would be nice, though.
[Collection of my Servant Sheets]
Now Revamped!
2
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A wise and beautiful woman who exudes an aura of grace. She is a sly, cunning, manipulative person who always gets what she wants, whether through trickery or ruthlessness. Her own fighting abilities are low, but she should not be trifled with. What does she ride? Men, of course!
