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[right][code]Mourningdove Lane[/code][/right]
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The Archivist being a full on Elf made way too much sense for the sheer level of fucking [i]gall[/i] he had. Being half elven himself, Mason got it. It just came with being an old son of a bitch with cobwebs for lungs. Still, the guy just appeared and not answering the door, or not being in the crowd when Mason walked in was weird. Mason had to wonder if this magic shit let him just appear whenever he wanted, or see what was going on like the old dragons seeing everything and not being anywhere near the things they were observing. He seemed old enough that he may very well have heard those stories when he was a [i]kid.[/i]

They’d all talked him into a corner. The big guy started, and had a pretty good point. How did this arrogant punk spy on them? The answer was pretty obvious, no doubt.

[color=85B7EB]”I’m going to take a [i]wild guess[/i] and assume he spied on us all with magic. I’ll believe anything at this point,”[/color] Mason [color=85B7EB]”Like how it’s real, and apparently we’re some of the first since an extinction level event or something.”[/color] The voice he heard in his head, which was almost like a dream itself when he was already asleep, had made that clear. The Archivist’s voice didn’t sound the same.

[color=85B7EB]”I’ve got two questions for you, old man. One: How do we get this shit under control? I can’t touch things without destroying them anymore, and I’m not convinced I won’t kill somebody by accident doing that. Two: What in the goddamn fuck [i]caused this?”[/i][/color] Mason was equal parts curious and distraught for the last week. [color=85B7EB]”I was hearing voices, and the voices were telling me that it’s been literal thousands of years since this sort of thing was common. What changed?”[/color]