tushanshu_logs | EVENT | ZUGZWANG

EVENT | ZUGZWANG | SEPTEMBER 21-28

Characters: ALL!
Date: September 21-28, 2014
Location: Keeliai
Situation: Something in the city has caused the Foreigner's powers to go off the charts, affecting even those who wouldn't possess any. Things pretty much go downhill from there...
Warnings/Rating: Add warnings as needed.

The state of affairs in Keeliai has been tense since the incident at the Midnight Hotel with Evandau, and the aftereffects have put a touch of pall on the city. Kedan look at each other distrustfully, wondering who among their number might be possessed by Malicant's essence and that suspicion carries to the Foreigners as well. How can they fight for us? they seem to be asking. They can't even stop fighting amongst themselves and the Emperor. Of course, the kedan's opinion of Evandau is likewise not exactly stellar any longer, as whether through inevitability or design, his cold actions of killing those who cross him has come to light. While there's no open dissent in the ranks (and likely, it seems, more due to fear of repercussion than loyalty) there are certainly looks and whispers.

The turtle hatchlings have also picked up on it, and they've become quieter than normal. Especially those who are suffering under shedding the remainders of Malicant's taint if they were injured by the poisoned weapons, they'll seem hesitant to bother their parents for minor things, or if possible will ask a parent who isn't afflicted first.

It feels like the calm before a storm.

LINKS
Powers Going Haywire (Sept 21-25) | Powers Nullified (Sept 26-27) | PART 2 TBA (Sept 28) | OOC Plot Post

OOC NOTE
Reactions to the Part 2 plot reveal will also be threaded on this post and the comment will be unfrozen when the other posts are made. Event questions can be directed to this comment. Have fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Removing Skulduggery's taint had been a relief. Solomon's own magic going haywire? Not so much. This wasn't like before, when the addiction had been in play; in fact it was the opposite. Visions of death became so searingly cold that he was constantly surprised he didn't have frost on his clothes when he moved past them, and reaching for shadows felt like reaching for icicles.

It was times like this Solomon cursed the link with the lantern. It meant he had to return to the apartment at regular intervals, and even though Skulduggery's presence wasn't so sharp after the taint was removed, whatever was going wrong with his magic had done that all by itself.

Solomon sat in the kitchen, drinking tea to combat the cold no physical warmth could touch and staring up at the ceiling. It looked like it was growing crystals. Not ice crystals. More like quartz, or something of the like, except that it was cold. He wasn't sure if that was Skulduggery's presence upstairs, or his own.

For all that Hayley liked to play at being a hero, the entire concept was fairly new to her. Her magic was even more so. The free time she had found in isolating herself provided ample opportunity to study and practice, much of Sabriel's magic becoming second nature to her now in spite of her teacher's absence. Breaking the sphere had only been the icing on the metaphorical cake to her successes.

Which is why it worried her all the more when things started going awry. At first it was little things, pulling Kon's goggles to her without meaning to or pushing away her morning's coffee - the mug was still shattered since her magic kept pushing the pieces away. Now it had escalated, her fingers occasionally catching on fire or shoving strangers.

Begrudgingly, not knowing who else to turn to, she found herself knocking on Skulduggery and Solomon's door, hoping it was the latter who answered.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, for Hayley, it was the latter who answered. It took Solomon a few moments, not because he didn't notice her approach but because he did. When he opened the door, he looked into the crystal gripping the heart of her soul, and the still, unmoving silhouette it cast on her face.

It gave him a headache. He had to look away, the lines around his mouth and eyes creasing with pain.

"Now isn't a good time," he said, and made to close the door.

Hayley almost immediately noticed the pained look on his expression. She didn't stop him from closing the door, because it took her a moment to realize what had just happened, that Solomon had honest to goodness just closed the door in her face. A second later, however, she was knocking again. Repeatedly.

"Too bad! You said you're in charge of my magic, right? Well, it's- damn it." The girl tried to shake off the flames that began crawling along her fingers again. She wasn't wearing her usual jacket because of the flames and had already lost one shirt, though her current clothing was untarnished. Luckily, the flames had thus far only come from her hands. "I need help!"

Hayley held her hands aloft, the left unmarred while the right continued to tease her with small flames dancing along her fingers.

"I broke the sphere, by the way." She spoke it as if a casual afterthought. It was anything but. She saved that for last, hoping it might eliminate whatever hesitations he had about helping her. Asking for help and proving progress in the same visit? What teacher could resist? Or so she hoped.

Typical. That was--typical. Solomon sighed and rested his forehead against the door and closed his eyes, and even through the timber that didn't at all allay the sensation of her death. She had lost their wager, they had arranged a timetable, it was bloody typical she'd break the damned thing right when his magic was having its own temper tantrum.

He hadn't even had a chance to talk to her about the potentially addictive quantities of the magic she wanted to learn. Yet she was right--he'd claimed to be her teacher. He couldn't turn her away if she needed help, regardless of whether it had to do with the sphere or not.

Solomon opened the door and stepped aside so she could enter. "Come in, then," he said, avoiding looking directly into her death to assuage some of the pain. "Tea?" He needed some. He needed some desperately, even though the tea the kedan used for pain wasn't nearly as effective as he wished it was. "I'll get you some water for the fire," he added after a moment.

"Thank you," Hayley huffed out in exaggerated exasperation. Waiting for someone who might not open the door for you while your hands were on fire wasn't exactly high on her list of favorite things, yet most of the attitude was a thin veil to hide her anxiety. His anxiety, however, puzzled and intrigued her.

The girl stepped inside, careful to keep her burning hand away from him or anything flammable. It was clear her mentor of sorts was struggling, though she had no idea what could torment him so. "Uh, water would be great?"

She was more of a coffee drinker anyway. As if in answer to her request for water, the flames on her hands extinguished themselves. For the moment, she was flame free. Because her magic was nothing if not uncooperative, she unconsciously reached out with the telekinetic magic to pull Solomon a few feet toward her. She jumped slightly when she realized what she had done.

"See? I can't-" Hayley felt no need to finish that thought, knowing Solomon would more than understand. The more important thought that needed to be expressed was trying to figure out what was wrong with the man. "And why won't you look at me?"

Solomon stumbled with a grunt, startled by the pull only because he'd forgotten Hayley could do so in light of everything else and the fact that the girl obviously hadn't meant to do it. He caught himself on the wall, but shadows gathered around him in response to his need to steady himself; he waved them away but they didn't disperse, drifting around him like air-dwelling eels.

"Looking into your death is exacerbating my headache," he said, rather tersely, and then occupied himself with putting the kettle on. He brought her a glass of water, even though the flames were out; it was possible the request had been as much for something to drink as to douse fire. Solomon pulled out a chair for her, and managed to even his tone a little. "Please sit."

Hayley blanched at his offhand remark. Everyone on the turtle knew about her death and she recalled talking to Solomon about those things, yet the idea that her death was somehow a hindrance to him now - worse, was causing him physical pain - made her uncomfortable. She took a seat as requested, not saying anything in response to his comment. Her hands found her lap before she recalled the flames that might spring forth. Then she perched her forearms awkwardly across her knees instead.

"Do you know what's happening?" She asked finally, feeling as frustrated and weary as Solomon looked. It was obvious that something larger than her was occurring if the Necromancer was having trouble as well. It was the kind of thing which hardly crossed her mind before, when she was a normal teenage girl on the turtle, before having so may super powered friends.

Hayley reached gingerly for the glass of water on the floor, taking a small sip and then setting the glass back as it was. It was a sign of nervousness more than anything else, though she'd gotten fairly good at hiding such anxieties. "And I broke the sphere before all this weird stuff started happening. I know it wasn't by the deadline, but it wasn't a fluke either."

"No," Solomon admitted, and blinked down at the half-full mug he'd forgotten he had. With a sigh he emptied it, since it was only lukewarm, and made himself another. "Though I suspect it's a facet of the enemy making his move, whatever he intends to do with it. He seems to delight in making us jump to whims."

Tea done, Solomon brought his mug of tea over to the table to take a seat, angled to Hayley rather than across from her so he didn't have to look at her soul directly. "You broke the sphere before this, hm?" He managed a bland but faintly mischievous smile. "And said nothing?"

Hayley watched him, finding a certain relief in never having to worry about meeting his gaze and the challenge that always lied therein. It was frustrating that he seemed unwilling to look at her, even within the relief, and she found herself torn in her feelings for the man in general. He was Lex Luthor come again, though perhaps more interested in her well being - if only for selfish reasons - and less willing to engage in a good game of chess. At least he would never fail to engage her interests.

"How can you see my death anyway?" She muttered. "Does this have anything to do with that whole shadow-me that Bart ran into?"

It was something she preferred not to think about, but had not yet forgotten. Hayley forced herself past the memory of the people gone to focus on the people present. Magic was a far better companion anyway. "It wasn't within three days and I thought you'd know when I broke it, so I just figured you were giving me a break by not showing up every day after."

"I've been busy lately," Solomon said in answer to her last accusation. He had been keeping an eye on her, though not as stringently as he'd threatened; Hayley had tried to break the sphere, and she still was trying, and since that was the result he'd wanted he hadn't seen the need to visit her every day. Most of the time, she hadn't even known he was there.

That hadn't been the case in the last week. He had missed one of his self-scheduled check-ups, and his magic had been difficult enough lately that he hadn't noticed the blip of the sphere breaking.

"No," Solomon said with a sigh. "I could see it when I met you before then. All Necromancers can sense death, though the degree I can takes a certain level of experience. Usually it's just like observing another facet of a person, like hair- or eye-colour. It's just sharper now than it was, and painful."

"Doesn't bother me," she retorted immediately. Accusation or not, Hayley was more than happy not to have the Necromancer checking in every day. He was becoming as bad as Clark - and that was the last thing she needed. Really, the only part of it she cared about was if Solomon had become unwell or disappeared and couldn't continue his teacher, the former of which seemed to be the case now.

"Wait. It's painful to you to look at me because I died?" She was trying to clarify. The whole thing sounded a little bit ridiculous. Also, awkwardly personal. Solomon's gazing at her death felt somehow intimate and Hayley didn't like it. The girl shifted to pull her legs up to her chest, resting her elbows on her knees.

"How powerful are you anyway? I mean, I know you're not Rapture powerful, but like, you've gotta be pretty high up, right? Towards that whole killing everyone thing?" She dropped the information as casually as she would asking what burger he might like to order. A deliberate move. Thank you, Skulduggery.

Not Rapture powerful. Solomon had just lifted his tea to take a sip, and managed not to choke or even let on that he might have, but put his tea down anyway to rub his face with a sigh.

"Skulduggery told you that, I suppose." Of course he did. He'd already admitted he'd told Hayley about that, though he hadn't mentioned the detail about Solomon's potential as Death Bringer and what he'd said about it. "He was mistaken."

And he owed Solomon for not telling the girl that he'd lied through his gumless teeth. "The title he called me, the day I told you some stories about him--Death Bringer. It's what Necromancers call people who are Rapture-powerful, as you put it. Since I've come here, I've ... reached such a level. Otherwise seeing your death wouldn't be nearly so painful."

Truth thus imparted, he lifted his mug to continue drinking, his tone as matter-of-fact as Hayley's had just been. He just didn't have the energy to obfuscate the truth, right now. Almost belatedly he added, "I'm not intending to kill everyone, by the way. Having the power and using it are two different things."

Hayley lifted her eyebrows as if skeptical, when truly it was curiosity that overtook her. Skulduggery had said many things, but had explicitly left out the part of Solomon's role in the equivalent Rapture. The Necromancer's admittance to being as such surprised her. She supposed it was probably a good thing in his beliefs, something to brag about.

"Why not?" She asked in response, watching him. He was ever the picture of calm, which somewhat annoyed her. Hayley was impatient to learn more and apparently he was the most powerful teacher she could have. Except that, for now, he was incapacitated and her hands were lighting on fire. Details, details.

The girl reached down to pick up her glass. Without intention, an invisible force propelled it away from her a few feet and knocked it over. She grimaced with the spill, then stood and started looking around for a towel or something. It was the least she could do.

Automatically Solomon reached out to catch the glass and got a wet hand instead. With a sigh he shook it off and nodded toward the tea-towel over the rack above the sink. "Over there."

He picked up the glass and set it on its base. "Because I don't want to," he said. "I'm no one's saviour, and I don't want to be considered anyone's saviour; and I understand the power more than those who'd call me such do. Necromancy is powerful, but the Temple is a selfish place, an institution--and it shows. It pretends at being a place to rescue humanity, but all most Necromancers are truly concerned about are rescuing themselves. I have people I would not want to see dead, and the power I have, used as the Temple would want it to be used, is a power that won't discriminate between those it takes. Death doesn't discriminate between those it takes. To pretend it does is foolish."

That was why Morwenna had left in the end; because she had seen the way the people in the Temple pretended they could pick and choose, as if they could pick a powerful Death Bringer in Lord Vile and then expect him to choose them when Vile was among the least discriminatory of them all.

That was why Solomon had shunted the idea aside for so long, pretended it would still work, even though he had known there was a flaw in it, if not what it was. Death was a great force, yes, and he would maintain that--but to use it and expect it to be judgmental was ridiculous. Not even a Death Bringer could do such a thing.

Hayley followed his gesture over to retrieve the towel, keeping a close eye on her hands to ensure she didn't accidentally start more fires. Luckily, she was able to begin wiping up the spill and then hand the towel over to Solomon without incident. She took her seat as before, listening to him and trying not to freak out. It was more annoying than scary, but the whole lack of control thing wasn't exactly second nature to her.

"Can the Temple take away your magic if they realize you're that powerful and not willing to help them do their whole genocide thing?" It was a relief to hear he wasn't interested in killing a bunch of people for his cult, even if she wasn't entirely sure she believed him.

"They can try," Solomon admitted. "There are ways to bind a person's magic, with enchanted manacles or by putting them in warded rooms--but you'd have to catch them and contain them first." He smiled grimly. "The Temple would find that difficult, with me, if they even do realise it. I've been keeping this a secret for well over a century, Hayley. I knew I had the potential for this level of power a long time ago; I just refused to train it. Here, I had no choice."

The loss of his item had assured that; if he'd come in with his cane he would never have fostered the kind of power he had now, or even needed to ask for the boon between him and the addiction. He could have kept pretending he didn't have that potential, could have continued on as guide instead of saviour.

Part of him wished he still could.

Another part pointed out that he would still feel beholden to the Temple, if he had.

"That's a long time to keep a secret," she replied with something suspiciously like admiration. It was hard to remember that he was so old, both in that his appearance was so young and, more so, that the idea of someone actually being so old was impossible to grasp. Hayley was barely sixteen. Having a guy who was hundreds of years old sitting across from her, having trouble looking at her? Well, it didn't scream wisdom and experience.

"So, what's next?" She asked. The jumping between topics was deliberate, knowing it made it harder for people to formulate answers or to lie. "I mean, after the whole magic-going-crazy thing is over. I broke the sphere, so what's next?"

'Admiration' wasn't precisely the reaction Solomon had been hoping for. Hayley was still young--young enough to neglect the implications of things, in spite of intelligence. The Temple may not have had any leeway in Keeliai--but Necromancy did, and Necromancy was dangerous on its own.

"First we wait for magic to stop going crazy," he said bluntly. "Secondly, I asked you sometime ago whether you could secure the materials for a Necromantic item. I don't suppose you managed to do so?" Even though he didn't need them anymore, if Hayley wanted to keep learning Necromancy she certainly would. And he would have to present to her what he'd forgotten before--the risk.

"Yeah. Like, months ago. But then you didn't seem to want them anymore, so they've just been sitting around." She lifted a hand to gesture ambiguously in an attempt to exaggerate. The result was her fingers catching on fire again and she sighed, lowering the hand to a safe and empty area in front of her. It didn't hurt, thanks to the way the magic worked, but it was still annoying and occasionally alarming.

Without a word on the subject, Hayley stood to walk over to the kitchen sink so she could douse her hand and hope that would be enough to get rid of the flames. She piped up to continue though, annoyed that he seemed so against teaching her. "I said after it's under control again. Don't change your mind, DB. You said you would teach me as long as I commit to learning."

"And I'm holding to that," Solomon said calmly. "But there are some things I overlooked telling you and now that my oversight has been pointed out to me, you need to know it before we continue." He rested his elbows on the desk, turning his head enough to acknowledge Hayley's presence more properly.

"I'm sure I've told you before," he said, "but magic comes with a price. The price of Necromancy, as I've discovered since I've arrived here, is addiction. That's what the items are for; they alleviate that, and enable control. But Necromancy in itself is addictive, and if you choose to continue using it you will find it more difficult to stop as time goes on."

After rinsing her hands and getting the fire back under control, Hayley returned to the table. She stood across from him, refusing to sit when he seemed to just be making excuses. Either he lied to her initially or he was lying now and she was torn between whether to call him out on it or simply accept what he was saying in order to continue learning. Necromancy was one of the few things she had going for and that made her more reckless about wanting it.

"Oh-kay. Thanks for the.. warning, or whatever, but I can handle it. If I start getting all weird or withdrawing or freaking out, I'll come straight to you and tell you." She held up two fingers with a sarcastic smile. "Scout's honor."

Which was a completely dismissive response, one about which Solomon couldn't be too surprised. Hayley was a teenager. Teenagers very rarely lent any credence to any experience they hadn't experienced themselves. It was simultaneously frustrating and amusing. In this case, it was also dangerous, to Hayley herself if not those around her--which meant it was in Solomon's best interests to make sure she learned in as safe a method as possible.

Instead Solomon only shrugged. "Very well. Then we're going to need those materials, and we're going to need to forge you an item at some point soon after magic stops being ridiculous."

"I'll get the materials when things aren't all crazy, like you said, but how exactly do we 'forge' them into what you want? And what kind of 'item' are we talking about anyway?"

The girl realized she was still standing, a contrary posture in a situation where that kind of aggression was no longer warranted or needed. She took a seat with an almost sheepish smile crossing her expression for a second. She appreciated Solomon, was glad to be here, even when she felt like he might be lying. Sometimes it was just hard to remember that.

Solomon caught the smile, and because she had been so on edge he took the time to look her in the eye with a wry quirk of his own mouth. His gaze slid to the side not longer after, at least to spare his pounding temples. "Usually it involves a forge," he said dryly but not without humour. "Hammer, anvil, fire. If your workplace has similar facilities it ought to do. As for what sort of item, it would have to be small--we don't want to waste resources and I might need an item myself further down the road."

If his magic continued on like it was, he would rather have the materials ready for use than have to flounder finding them again. "A ring, perhaps, or a necklace. It doesn't have to be something you can hold in your hand, as long as it's something you'll easily carry on your person and can touch or use as a focus."

EVENT | ZUGZWANG | SEPTEMBER 21-28

23rd | Solomon's apartment | For Hayley

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