tushanshu_logs | i'll say it to be proud

Entry tags:

i'll say it to be proud

Characters: Solomon Wreath and OPEN
Date: Anywhere between 6 May to 14 May.
Location: Various locations around the city. Specifically, places where people have died--anyone from PCs to kedan. The only place I know specifically will be the fountain where Bakura was killed, but if anyone has other specific areas in mind, you may assume Sol has been there.
Situation: Solomon needs to practice his control of his magic, since his control item was broken before he entered the game. This means using hotspots where people died to help him out. People are welcome to interrupt him at any stage of his practice, though his manifesting the echoes of people who died is only something that will happen later in the week.
Warnings/Rating: Death and after-death. Skulduggery's thread contains graphic details of a death (specifically, drowning).

After his semi-healing, Solomon's first priority had been, overwhelmingly, to regain control of his magic. His conversation with Skulduggery had left him a few steps beyond unsettled, and even now he wasn't sure what to think. Added to their differing timelines was Pleasant's uncharacteristic certainty that the armour was related to Vile, and on top of that was the fact that he knew the Temple's most closely guarded secret.

In the end Solomon had been forced to come to a simple solution: regardless of Skulduggery's current beliefs and knowledge; regardless of the current situation on the turtle; there was one thing Solomon needed, and that was use of his magic. Focussing on that, with luck, would allow his subconscious thoughts to ponder the other issues.

Necromancers didn't strictly need control items to use their magic, but it was usually how they were first introduced to it and it had been quite a while since Solomon had bothered to use magic without his. It was something like using a muscle he hadn't for longer than was wise, so to give him an edge he sought out places in the city where death had occurred, or were close by similar locations. Fountains. Street-corners. Parks. Frankly, it wasn't all that difficult.

His exercises were a simple routine. He would sit, meditate upon the deathly energy in a place, and then gather the shadows to him. They'd cluster on the walls or ground or features around him; at first two-dimensional, and then three, wrapping around his wrists and shoulders, curling around his body like a flock of affectionate birds.

Once he could hold them to him for as long as he needed without losing control, he moved on to spreading them around him as he needed and wanted, and in various shapes. If there was music nearby, he would make the shadows dance to it, filling the air with twisting shapes and cloaks, fading in and out from nothing. Once upon a time he had used to do this purely out of boredom. There was something beautiful about it. Something mesmerising. Something calming, and comforting, to watch the shadows sing and know he was the one performing, manipulating the shadows deftly like puppeteer. He hadn't done it in such a long time and it took more effort than it had with his cane, but now, it was soothing.

Eventually he was even able to summon the shadows of those who'd died where he sat. They weren't ghosts, of course; they couldn't speak or even interact. Necromancers couldn't communicate with the dead unless it involved the deceased's physical body. They were just shadows, cast black like graphic puppets, defined enough to tell details of their features. He could have traced the manner of their last moments, if he wished, but for now, he was content to assure himself he could fight without his cane if he needed.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Solomon smiled. "Actually, we do. My world is very modern--we entered the twenty-first century not long ago. Magic is something of a secret, you see. Sorcerers only create a small percentage of the population, and not all of them are aware they're capable of magic at all."

And then he just had to laugh. "With regularity," he assured her. "Most people find Necromancers unnerving; it's something of a staple of the magic. Of course, most of my fellow Necromancers are far worse. You see, Necromancy in my world is also a faith. Most Necromancers are members of a Temple, and very rarely ever leave it. They have rules about how you dress, about how warmly you may dress, about those with whom you associate ..."

He shrugged again. "I've always found those needless details rather boring, myself. I'm a member of the Temple, to be sure, but I spend most of my time as liaison between the Temple and the outside world." Another smile, and this one was verging on conspiratorial. "I suppose you could say I'm something of an evangelist."

"Wait- What year are you from?" Okay. Mixing science and magic was strange enough, but the idea of Solomon being from her time was almost unsettling. Although Hayley wouldn't admit to it and rarely even recognized it in herself, she held her unique world as something near and dear to her heart. It was akin to a secret, her own space that no one could understand or take away from her. Because it was normal. If most sorcerers were a secret, there was a possibility they were from her world. She didn't like that idea.

Her posture straightened with her new found discomfort and she turned to get a better look at him, pulling one leg up onto the shadow bench. Objectively, she knew this was crazy. She had just met a creepy and charismatic magic guy who was sitting on a spooky shadow bench asking her for a bunch of strange metals to teach her to play with darkness. Okay, she had asked him to learn first. It was still weird. And there was still nothing to guarantee he wasn't the Big Bad Wolf.

"Oh-kay, so tell me about this great temple of yours." She adopted another nefarious smile. "Would I be someone you could 'associate' with?"

"Two-thousand nine," said Solomon, and he still couldn't help but be amused by her disbelief. Apparently in her world magic was truly the work of the medieval. That, or most of the magic-users here were from several hundred years past. Perhaps he oughtn't mention the fact that he was born in such an era. Or perhaps he should.

Solomon declined the thought and chuckled. "Most assuredly not. The Temple doesn't see much particularly interesting about teenagers, or anything else, outside the Temple." He sighed, just a touch dramatically. "Of course, they also refuse to believe me when I say it's petty and narrow-minded of them, but I'm simply one man considered eccentric by ... nearly everyone, actually."

His next smile was rueful. "Most of the world considers Necromancers eccentric at best, outright antagonistic at worst. Relations between us have not been easy. That is one of the reasons why the Temple accepts my fondness for activities outside its walls; it needs someone who understands the greater social consciousness to attend to politics. Unfortunately, it also means I'm not quite in either camp."

Which was true, but not completely accurate. The Temple regarded his activities with a touch of wariness, but they accepted it because they accepted his faith for what it was. He was loyal to the Temple. The issue was that the Irish High Priest assumed being loyal to the Temple meant being loyal only to him.

Well that was.. No, there were no words for it. Hayley herself was only from 2005. Still, the girl wasn't one to needlessly fret, so she dismissed the idea as obviously poppycock and returned her attention to the more pressing subject at hand. In acknowledgement of his answer, she gave an attentive smile and no more. Then she listened to the remainder of what he had to say.

"You know eccentric is the nice word for crazy, right?" As before, she showed no signs of that fact deterring her in any way. Either he was a hero among villains or, more likely, a villain among people. Villains and heroes. Hayley had always thought in very black and white terms, but it was only when she attacked Superman that it became heroes and villains instead of good and evil.

"What about Skuldug? Is he part of the Temple too?" Living here, trying to understand others' completely different worlds, was infinitely more difficult than she might have guessed before coming to this city. "And why are you so pro the outside world if you like the temple?"

"Skuldug--" Solomon laughed. He'd have to remember that. "No. As a matter of fact, Skulduggery and the Temple have been on the wrong sides of one another for ... quite a while. Even before I knew him."

That had been the main source of contention between them; the fact that Skulduggery had insisted he leave the Temple, without much apparent regard for Solomon's feelings on the subject. That was his way--he was right, everyone else was wrong, and if you couldn't see that, you were an idiot. Solomon still couldn't quite figure out how he managed to get so many apparently intelligent people to remain so loyal to him.

"Most of the Temple's residents were born into it," he explained. "I wasn't. Every now and then, the Temple takes some acolytes from outside. I was one of them." There was more to it, of course. A lot more. There usually was. But those were days he hadn't thought about in years, and had become quite adept at not thinking about at all.

"I suppose that means I simply had more context than my colleagues," he continued. "For me the outside world wasn't a confusing place full of people I didn't understand. I didn't join the Temple to live in its buildings, I joined the Temple to live in its faith. It's a difference many people sadly miss."

Hayley listened, ever the attentive student. Anyone doling out free information earned some credit in her book, more so when the information was relevant, interesting, and personal. There were dozens of holes in what he said, of course, and much of the storytelling was clearly a paraphrased and glossed over version of events. It was like hearing the abridged version of a story that had yet to reach its second act.

"What does the temple actually believe in? I mean, aside from necromancy. Do you kill people not for magical reasons? Do you donate to the poor? Make potions?" It wasn't as if she had any basis to build from. Although religion obviously existed in her world, no member of her family had ever been particularly religious, though her mother dabbled in it from time to time, and Hayley herself had never been to church or learned of any specific faith. "And like, well you said you shouldn't be talking to me, right? So why are you? If you joined to be part of the religion but you don't follow their rules, isn't that kind of.. selective?"

"Ah." Solomon smiled slightly. "Most of the Temple's more detailed beliefs are privileged information. There is a great deal of secrecy involved in its workings; I won't deny that. At its most basic, however, the Temple believes in recognising, acknowledging and utilising the power death holds over us."

Granted, that recognition, acknowledgement and use were all steps toward their ultimate goal. But that ultimate goal fell under Temple secrets.

"We don't murder for the sake of power," he said. "Enough death exists in the world for us to use without adding to it. Of course, the magical state of affairs at any given time is only relative stable. We'll kill to defend ourselves." He smiled grimly, nodding in the direction of the palace. "This isn't the first war I've experienced."

Solomon returned his attention to Hayley, watching her face. The Temple wasn't a pretty place a great deal of the time, and he rarely saw a point in hiding that. A person who needed that hidden before they were interested was a convert the Temple couldn't trust.

"Most of the time the Temple's activities are channelled inward," he explained. "It's primarily concerned with its own affairs, which, frankly, is something of a pity. I've said for a long time we must be concerned with events outside our walls." He smiled. "Aside from the obvious fact that I need allies here, I've long felt the Temple has become too mired in its politics and not enough in its faith. An institution's cause and its rules are not, sad to say, mutually inclusive. I prefer to live by example, even if it means breaking those rules."

Hayley met his gaze evenly. Her eyes narrowed just a hint when he mentioned killing to defend themselves. It wasn't something she actually disagreed with, really, but she was naturally suspicious of pretty much everything he said at this point. The girl licked her lips with unconscious excitement as her mind traveled a half-dozen thoughts at once, a half-dozen potential outcomes of this situation.

"So you're like a cult." She clarified with the same hint of mischief, lips curving into a more genuine smirk. "I mean, come on. Isn't that how any big, shady organization is? All secrets and elitism. That's what makes people want to join, that whole special feeling they get at being in on something most people aren't. Information is power, right?"

She certainly believed the latter. It was a great deal of the reason she lied as frequently and as freely as she did. Or had, before her friends complicated things. It was still easy, but now she had to be more careful.

"Some call it so," Solomon said with a shrug. "But then, they say the same about any religion with which they don't agree, do they not? Muslims are terrorists. Insular Christian denominations are cults. People see something they don't understand, something which is inaccessible to them, and judge it."

She was observant. Observant and smart in a way most children didn't know how to be anymore. Worldly. It was intriguing. "Quite," he said. "Therein lies the issue. Information in the modern age is available in degrees and quantities like never before. People aren't used to being told they cannot know something. So, naturally, anything which refuses them knowledge must be suspicious and exclusive."

He shrugged. "We're exclusive, certainly, but no more than anything else with specific beliefs. Would you rather we enforced our tenets on those who don't want them? Of course not. We simply make offers to those few who might understand our cause, such as yourself."

"True, but it's also true of some members, isn't it? Some Muslims are terrorists and some insular Christians are cults. And, okay, obviously other people are terrorists and cults too, but aren't you basically saying that some of your members are actually cultists?" The argument made some false assumptions of logic. She knew as much and wasn't afraid of making such claims, more interested in his reactions than in the argument itself.

At the end of it, Hayley shrugged and moved to stand. Unless he had reason to stop her, she would straighten and then stretch, raising her arms up into the air with fingers interlocked. It was another test of his reaction, wanting to gain a better understanding of him. "You're cool, Sol, but I'm not really interested in sacrificing any virgins and I'm still not totally convinced you're not like, a vampire or something?"

The more he spoke, the less dangerous and exciting he became. He was still creepy as hell and she hadn't lost interest in him entirely, but her present interest declined with the continuous walls she was hitting. Too many secrets to learn in one sitting.

"There are always the extreme exceptions, of course," Solomon said. "But, as I said, those are things I'm attempting to change. Assuming that the views of a collective handful are the views of the whole is something of a faulty assumption, is it not?"

He had no reason to stop her. She was a teen; her ability to remain still and interested for so long said a good deal about her patience--at least with regard to subjects that interested her. That, of course, had to end sooner or later. She was also stubborn; persistent in her belief that secrecy only meant something untoward was occurring. A product of her generation, seeking some excitement.

He only smiled, unconcerned by her assumptions and yet amused, nearly teasing, at her presumptuousness. His bright eyes gleamed with it. "Then let me convince you I'm worth your while. It seems imprudent to consider making you an item without knowing whether you're capable of my magic at all. Shall we test whether or not you've a touch of Necromancy?"

"I guess," she admitted. Hayley dropped her arms down to her sides in completion of her stretching, then lifted one hand to scratch idly at her hair. It was an unconscious gesture associated with nervousness in her thinking. She was considering walking away, letting the conversation end and wandering off to go find Skulduggery. Her concern was that she had not intrigue Solomon enough. Lex had been easy; Jason too. Solomon seemed harder to impress or please and the last thing she wanted of him was to be forgotten.

Except then he was saying the exact words she wanted to hear, as if she had written the lines for him. A chill ran the length of her spine as she adopted the same devious smile. If he was paying close attention, he might notice the tension in her shoulders and the brightening of her eyes, excitement apparent in her entire appearance. The girl ignored the inherent skepticism that came with such perfection in favor of reckless abandon and renewed interest.

"Okay." She tilted her head. "What do I do?"

Usually in this circumstance he'd give her permission to hold his cane and see how it reacted, and judge from there. If a youth had any aptitude in Necromancy, a Necromantic item would reveal how much. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option here, which meant he would have to use alternate means.

"Emotion tends to interfere with magic-use," he said with an indulgent smile. "The main thing is to make sure you're calm."

He clasped his hands and summoned a ball of shadows between his palms, small and compact. It looked like obsidian, except that it was too smooth and round to be natural. Solomon held it out for Hayley to take. "It may take some work, but if you can get a reaction out of this, we'll know whether you've any inclination toward my world's magic at all--let alone Necromancy itself." He tilted his head and added with simmering amusement, "You may wish to be seated again."

"Lucky for you, I don't think that's something you'll have to worry too much about," she replied easily. There was some arrogance behind her words, entirely justified given that Hayley really did have an impressive level of control over her emotions. It was the exact thing that caused difficulties in her friendships. She didn't care enough to care most of the time.

His smile and humor were almost enough to make her reject the seat on principle. For as mature and worldly as she could be, the girl remained a petulant teenager at her core, prone to rebellion for all the wrong reasons. Few things could overtake her pride so easily as her insatiable curiosity, though. She took up her same seat beside him, space between them, and then turned to partially face him as she stared at the ball.

"What do I do with it?" It was a sincere question, free from jest for once. She reached out, gingerly at first and then with more confidence. Her fingers wrapped delicately around the shadow creation to pluck it out of his hand without actually touching him. There was something about the idea of any physical contact with him, however small, that made her wary.

She dropped it down into her palm and withdrew it back into her own space, staring down at the darkness. It was almost mesmerizing, the way it captured the light and created a private infinite. Hayley wanted it.

For all her wit, Hayley's reaction proved she was still just a child. Arrogant, even justified, but presuming it actually mattered to Solomon instead of understanding it was of benefit to herself. He saw her reserve at obeying what amounted to a suggestion, but she did obey. Curiosity was a strong motivator.

"You break it," said Solomon. "The sphere is of shadow; it can't be broken or crushed with mere strength. If you've the appropriate magic, you ought to be able to break it using that instead." He smiled. "If you can do that, you can learn Necromancy. But it may take some time for you to summon the appropriate focus."

Even such a small construct was a drain on him, currently. Usually an item would provide a buffer for such small instructional tools, allow him to maintain its integrity in perpetuity. Right now, he didn't have that sort of control. "Unfortunately, you won't be able to take it away with you. It will dissolve if it gets too far from me." He sighed and shook his head wryly. "One more problem that would be solved with an item."

Hayley's concentration broke when he replied and she glanced up to look at him. Then she nodded and looked down at the sphere again. While she was beyond eager to prove her abilities as a magic user, some part of her didn't want to break it. There was a beauty in that little creation that she didn't entirely understand and she knew she didn't really want to. There was a very subtle grimace when he mentioned that she couldn't take it with her.

"Break it using magic?" She asked finally, tearing her gaze away from the shadow and over to Solomon again. "And you sound like you're trying to sell me something with the whole constant reminder of how much you need an item."

Solomon laughed. "I'm rather possessive, I admit. Once you become accustomed to something being there in support, it's something of a shock to discover it gone." Admitting that there might be some risk involved with using Necromancy without an item might serve to pique her interest, but at this stage, Solomon wasn't going to reveal that so openly.

He sobered. "I'm still adjusting. Unfortunately, it does mean I haven't the control to create a sphere which wouldn't dissolve without me; otherwise I would let you take it away with you. Certainly it would be more practical if I could. Possibly I would be able to given a little more time."

Shadow constructs weren't usually meant to be long-term, but it was possible.

Hayley couldn't help a small and entirely mischievous grin at his comment about being possessive. It often went hand in hand with the types of people she found most fascinating, or perhaps she just appreciated seeing the characteristic buried within herself reflected back at her. But then she was back to focusing - or trying. She gave him a look to say 'shut up' and then returned her attention back to the sphere.

She stared at it. Was mesmerized by it. Hayley had never been a kid to stare at a leaf trying to make it levitate like kids she knew, but here she felt it was genuinely possible. There wasn't the same accompanying headache inducing concentration or desperation. She simply stared at it, trying to will it to shatter in a grand spectacle.

Like most times she wished she had some kind of powers, nothing happened.

After a few minutes, she looked over to Solomon again with a frown. "So that's it, right? I don't have it?"

Indulgently Solomon watched as Hayley focussed on the sphere. He honestly wasn't expecting much of a reaction the first time, particularly as she demanded he be quiet so she could work. Even those who knew they had magic very rarely got reactions when they tried to get one.

Then again, the expression on Hayley's face just earlier had been filled with awe, and the sort of intensity of someone more concerned with knowing an object than owning it. And she was already familiar with magic. Perhaps it wouldn't take her as long as usual.

"Not necessarily," he said with a smile. "You're attempting to will it into breaking, aren't you?" It was barely a question. "Necromancy isn't a matter of will; it's more a matter of subtly." He touched the sphere and it coiled a little tendril of shadow around his finger almost in acknowledgement before fading. "Don't attempt to break the sphere simply because you want it to break. You aren't seeking to dominate the shadow; you're seeking to manipulate it. For that, you need to know it. Understand it. What constitutes a shadow? How would you seek to change a shadow's form?"

"Yeah," she offered in reply to his mostly rhetorical question. Hayley took note of his expression, something which could almost be mistaken for pride or amusement. Whatever it was, she found it strangely intriguing. The thought was pushed aside for now in favor of focusing on the shadows instead. Her eyes followed his hand, watching the shadow respond to him. A chill ran down her spine with the excitement of possibility.

Rolling the sphere from her palm to her fingers, she held it between her fingertips and examined it anew. Being told that she wasn't meant to focus on breaking it was almost a relief. Hayley still admired the infinite darkness. Instead of trying to will it to do anything at all, she continued her efforts by simply gazing into its depths.

"Isn't a shadow just a lack of light?" She asked idly, her gaze drifting through the darkness and back into her own mind. With a light smile, she added as casually, "And if I knew how to change a shadow's form, don't you think I would have done it by now?"

"Perhaps," Solomon answered, his eyes glittering with continued amusement. "Or perhaps you're further along in your understanding than you think." Shadows, after all, were a trick of the light. Using them wasn't a matter of mental force. Changing them was a matter of perception.

He lifted his hand until it cast a shadow over the sphere, and then turned it until it was a line instead of a shape. And then turned it again, spreading his fingers. "And yet shadows do change at your desire, quite regularly. The only difference between the shadow cast by your body and the one you hold is that the second was gifted." He smiled. "That doesn't mean it must remain a separate part from you."

Hayley's attention focused on his hand as soon as it neared her own and she watched his shadow shift and change with each movement. It was something she had never considered before, a new kind of knowledge and enlightenment she found rare and refreshing. The thought made her miss learning again. She glanced at him again with his words, then back to the sphere and the shadows of his hand.

She poured her attention into thinking about connecting the sphere with his shadows, her mind creating the imagery rather than trying to will the darkness to her commands. Hayley lifted her own hand just a short distance above his and offset, casting her own shadow over his on her other hand. Her focus was on the depth of the shadows, on making them darker, deeper.

"What if the shadows don't want to be manipulated?" She asked distractedly, still admiring the patterns of their shadows on her hand and imagining the sphere spreading across them.

The surface of the sphere rippled, tiny tendrils reaching out along the lines of the shadows patterning Hayley's hand, slinking along her palm. It wasn't much, and the very instant Hayley was distracted by the sight they would snap back into the sphere, but it was all they needed.

Solomon smiled. "Shadows always want to be manipulated. It's in the very nature of their existence to shift and change according to the whims of something else. They crave direction." He lowered his hand. "Very good. I can safely say you have some aptitude for magic from my dimension."

She was distracted almost immediately. As soon as she realized the vision had become a reality, her top hand withdrew and she nearly dropped the moving thing. The sphere fell back into her palm and she stared at it with wariness only for a second before she regarded Solomon with a confident smirk. There was something about the movement without her deliberate choice to move it that unnerved her a little, but Hayley was all too willing to get used to it.

The girl bit her lower lip in feigned nervousness as she held up her hand, sphere in her palm, offering the object back to him. If she could keep it, she absolutely would, but she didn't want to see it dissolve. He could disband it himself.

"So you enjoy manipulating everything around you?" She asked with some humor, the question intentionally bordering on accusation.

Solomon smiled. "I enjoy the challenge for control." He accepted the sphere back, not believing the nervousness for a second. She was the sort of girl who enjoyed the danger, the uncertainty. It made her nervous, but that in itself excited her.

He let the shadows flow around him and vanish into the shadows on the walls, and become still themselves. "Such control will be easier once you have an item. You will be able to draw more of your potential in such a way."

i'll say it to be proud

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