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21 days ago
Current I keep forgetting you were ever here
1 like
22 days ago
@Zeroth Make the cool thing your PC did fundamentally impossible without someone else's PCs. Like someone with super strength throwing your pc at a giant monster to fuck it up at point blank range.
3 likes
2 mos ago
Mahz has a desk?
1 like
2 mos ago
no
3 mos ago
What the fuck are you people talking about

Bio



I invented necromancy and the windmill. I beat the sun in a poker match during the summer of 1273 and God hasn't felt the same since.


Most Recent Posts



Well.

Shit.

They got the Magma Titan, that was good news.

The bad news was that it was just replaced with a much bigger titan made of bone. Stormy wasn’t exactly a heavy hitter in the sense that he hit things. He could throw a mean punch, but this? No, they needed magic that could put something down quickly to deal with that, and several of them were starting to lose steam. And Stormy wasn’t at 100% right now himself, not after that Hallow Blast.

His channeler showed another nine minutes before he could use Phantombane in any capacity.

Maybe he could dig up a Barrier Storm or maybe a Phantomblade, if Drake were around here. But he’d vanished. Stormy didn’t trust his shields to stand up strong against that thing’s foot; If it slammed down on them, his Iron Fortress would take it with no trouble, but it was too small. Think. How could-

Oh, yeah.

”I know what to do… LEON! I have a plan!” Stormy shouted.

Leon had been staring upward when Drake vanished, and had been in hesitant awe ever since. There was a moment of waiting before Stormy got his answer… He could hear the bubbling of Kenshiro’s levitation in the sky ahead, and hoped he wasn’t making a headlong dive toward this new threat.

"Stormy!?”
His voice echoed across the muddy field, and Leon pressed off the ground hard enough to cause dirt to fly up and around him before skidding to a stop.
"Plan up, hit me!”

”Back at Kari’s house, there was this flesh creature that 8th Street sent after us… It didn’t have an emotional field, and it was undead.”

He pointed up at the gigantic fuckass skeleton. ”That thing is undead, too. I’m thinking if you use some of Lelou’s strength, you can hurl me at it like a damned missile,” he explained. ”And I’ll force my Consecration spell on it.”

He bumped his left shoulder with his right hand, and green scales made of his Lux crawled up Stormy’s skin. ”I’ll grab on. Worst case scenario, I fall and hit the ground, but Dragonhide will keep me alive. If this works, it’ll be too distracted by the fact that it’s withering to fight us!.”
The Holy Missile! Leon pointed a long and muscular finger at Stormy and his eyes widened.
"Oooh, you’re going fuckin’ long!
Immediately, Leon had Stormy half by the shirt and half by the belt. Purposefully, he aimed Stormy’s face toward the faint purple light in the sky nearby.
"If you start to miss, scream for Ken! I know he’ll catch you! Brace yourself!”

There was a strange rubber snapping sound like bands breaking as they get wrapped around a ball directly next to Stormy’s head. Like something constantly rotating, coiling… And then Leon’s torso began to contort fully, ribs and organs being tugged into a smaller, tighter space. He was rotating his spine in place, and as it came to the extent that it appeared as if he may snap in two, the whole world would start to spin around Stormy.
Round and round, heavier and heavier gravitational rotations pressed the two tighter together until all at once, there was nothing holding him back. Just the sensation of air passing through Stormy’s hair.

Stormy went up, up and up higher. For a moment, he was free and weightless and simply aimed a hand out. As he soared above the battlefield, a note of green energy snapped into being between his fingers.

He started dropping, and the titan came closer.

Stormy crashed right into the ribs, feeling the strain against his chest as he wrapped both arms around the huge bone. If he hadn’t used Dragonhide, he might’ve ruptured something.

On contact with the bone titan, he let the Consecration spell do its thing, and felt that drag on his soul. It taxed him by taking a piece of what made him who he was, but that was a fact Stormy was used to. He’d walk it off.

All that was left now was to wait and see if it worked.
"You are reaching to assert your will over that which exists in the negative," Jack explained, watching her attempt. "Where there is Nothingness, you are giving it shape. That is something that will require time to master."

Whenever Jack spoke, walked or so much as waved a hand before him, the house they lived in had a way of shuddering. Those who could call this place home became inseparable from it. From the moment this world welcomed Annika, it was one and the same with her. This is an extension of hers and Jack's souls. The act of using Umbramancy involved pulling on that connection in the same way one leveraged their ability to close their fingers into a fist.

"I remember when I was only a few years older than you are now... I spent weeks simply learning to see through the shadows, shaping them was unthinkable."



Location: She-Hulk's Apartment
Skills: N/A


Leah wasn’t paying much attention right now. When Coulson had said what he wanted, everyone seemed a little pissed off in one way or another, even the ones who weren’t. Mainly because the room felt like it was just a blanket mess of noise to Leah. She tuned everything out after the mention of therapy and didn’t hear anything meaningful about teams or even what Sabine had to say. Victoria’s rant didn’t register to her, she was too damn tired to deal with this right now.

There were too many voices, in a room that was too small. Leah just slowly blinked and got sick of this shit quicker than she normally got sick of things.

”This… Is a fucking joke.”

Leah sat up in her seat, and glared daggers at Coulson. ”The Avengers didn’t do a fucking thing. For months. Did any of you ever stop and think that maybe it was a little weird that Arcade was holed up in there long enough to do something like that? Or did you just conveniently never notice, even though this place is full of dumb fucking idiots who call themselves superheroes?”

If Arcade had just threw this scheme together overnight, she could believe it if the school was just caught off guard. That sort of thing happened, but the amount of shit he had loaded into the computer had to take weeks or even longer to get organized, even for him. There was no reality where they could look good or come up with an excuse for that.

”You don’t get to ignore all of that and pretend you give a damn about any of us,” Leah continued. ”And you’re not sticking me in “therapy” for it, either. The last guy who tried to make me do something I wasn’t willing to do was buried alive.”

Leah wasn’t the sort of people who got shaky when stressed. She was used to fighting for her life, getting hurt badly and dealing with awful shit. But right now, sitting in this office with all these noisy people and staring down a guy who didn’t matter nearly enough for her to care, while running on a fuck-you amount of sleep? Yeah, she was about to explode if she didn’t get the fuck out.

So Leah stood up and swung the door open.

”I don’t care about the contest, I never did. I only went along with it because it mattered to everyone else. It means nothing. It’s a waste of everyone’s time, but everyone keeps pretending it’s the only way you get to be superhero. Do whatever you want with the teams. I don’t care.”

She slammed through the door shut behind her, not even trying to hold back all that inhuman strength she had for the door’s sake.

BANG.
”No. it does not.”

Jack walked into the kitchen and returned with a small knife. He sat it down on a table in front of a couch, sitting down himself with the book. ”Draw the shadows inwards, however slow and difficult it may be for you, and show me your ability to learn.” He held his hand over the table, and it cast a shadow far too dark for it to make rational sense. That shadow bubbles up and then collapsed.

It became a rectangle, and bits and pieces of it fell onwards, as a shape slowly coalesced into something tangle. A vantablack kitchen knife.

”Do not feel the need to rush your attempt. Use patience.”
"You and I have influence over a force that so many others cannot understand." Jack stood, and held the book in one hand. "That is the way of any sorcerer, wizard or magician you meet in life. What we do is the same, insofar as it can be considered magic. To question what you see is to accept you do not know everything. And as someone who can wield such power, that is something you must acknowledge."

He stepped out of the room, beckoning Annika to follow. Only it wasn't the same hallway she had come through. No, the living room downstairs was on the other side of that door. And when they walked through, the door simply wasn't there.

"Some mysteries are meant to be solved, others are not."
”These shadows we live in amount to a fickle thing, Annika.” he traced a circle in the air, and a black ring of smoke appeared there. ”They grant us safe passage into this world between all other worlds, and make our ruin otherwise. We cannot truly know it, for that is what it means to be hidden in the dark. But in what we do understand, we find that the darkness, even here, does not truly want anything.”

It was a paradox, in a way. They worked with supernatural darkness and studied what it could do, yet that very darkness was something they could only understand in passing. The Everdark was an entire universe all its own, with endless secrets- Far too many to learn in one lifetime.

”Such questions will often have no answer, but they are importantly nonetheless.”
Jack did have standards for a child raised by him. That was true, but Annika was a child no less. She was not meant to be a mirror to the things he did, even if she learned every single mystic technique he ever invented. Jack peered down at the page, and recognized what Annika was looking for: A simple conjuring. Nothing particularly difficult, in fact, manifesting things from the shadows was something of a foundation for Umbramancy. Jack waved his hand, and the shadows cast by his fingers became something solid. Along the page manifested a black bookmark, and he turned a few pages towards the back of the book.

He recalled writing down methods in the back of it, once.

"To create things is to develop influence over the shadows," Jack began. "The dark is often regarded as having no substance, yet for you and I, there is something within that we may reach for. Once you have that something in your grasp, your methods will determine how you shape it, to what length you see it as an extension of yourself."

He pointed at a page where he'd scribbled down precise shapes, and outlined how he'd hew them out of shadows. "Think of a simple, mundane object you are familiar with. A pencil, or perhaps a knife. Treat the dark as if it were that object, and cut it away until the shape becomes clear. Once you have this shape, the trick is to give it substance."

To demonstrate, he held out a hand that was itself made of shadows. He had never told Annika how that came to be. In the palm of his hand, there formed a rose black as oil. He held it out for her, and let her hold the solidified shape between her fingers.

"To make it real."
It was an ominous house they lived in. Once, it had just been an untouched field of land, this place Jack referred to as the Twilight Pass. He had many maps of the Everdark, and chose this area to construct a home for himself through a dizzying amount of spellcraft. That was long before he’d crossed paths with Annika.

Everything in the backdrop of the universe was cast in gloom, yet the house embraced that. Black walls, rows of bookshelves, halls illuminated by purple lights, even a black cat that was probably benign walked up and down the halls like it owned the place. Other magicians had their sanctums, their spires that overlooked a realm. This was Jack’s, and now it was Annika’s as well.

He sat within a room at the top floor, in a reading chair with a book open in his lap. In front of him was another chair, and a fireplace that burned with flames as purple as the evening sky of Earth. He looked over his shoulder as his daughter came running in. The book snapped shut and floated away to a shelf.

”Hmm? What have you found?” He spoke in a quiet voice that made the walls listen. Like a god in a realm of their own creation.



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