Alec Walker

ARMA
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Everything posted by Alec Walker

  1. October 31, 2020 Mr. DeLuc, welcome. Please, take your seat. This is a pretty informal conversation that we'll have here... but you know that... don't you? Alec smiled kindly and gestured broadly at one of the comfortable chairs opposite the triad of senior ARMA agents. The commanders of divisions were far too busy to sit in on every hearing... or so they claimed. That was fine. It meant the agents under them had a purpose. To my right is David Halliday, our representative for Commander Zikara. At my left is Lieutenant Merval of the Cloak division. I am Alec Walker, also a Lieutenant of Cloak division. The man was not exactly affected in his speech, but Lieutenant was pronounced as the British had done-Leftenant. We're here today to just have a chat and see whether you've shown improvement in your willingness to command and lead. There's no value for us in hearing falsehoods, and we tend to be very good at spotting a lie, so as long as this conversation stays honest, it should be quite pleasant. Alec lifted up a fountain pen in his right hand and ran the tip lightly down a sheet of paper, making sure ink would flow. He pulled a sheet of paper out from under his legal pad and made a quick note. We can start whenever you're ready. And please, Mr. DeLuc, speak freely during this conversation.
  2. Nobody Expects the ARMA Inquisition:

    Alec sighed. Gavin really didn't understand. Sure, leaving ARMA would put them at a disadvantage, with a free agent out there operating, potentially against them, but that really wasn't part of the protocol. Yes, they'd done some memory wipes, some identity changes in the past. Yes, they'd had to completely wipe some people from the historical record... ARMA was an agency dedicated to protecting one of the largest subsets of humanity anywhere in the world. Of course, they'd taken drastic measures. And yet, it seemed entirely possible that Sergeant DeLuc was unaware of ARMA's actual exit protocols. Agents were brought in, sat down in a chair, and given a sedative. One of the trained mentalists would come in and expunge any highly sensitive information from their memories, replacing it with benign versions of events. Past operations with no bearing on current day efforts were left alone. Their memories of people and places not deemed mission critical were left intact. For all intents and purposes, the skills, magic, and relationships they had built over the course of their careers with ARMA would remain. It was a time-consuming process, and incredibly taxing on the mentalist responsible, but ultimately harmless to the agent being dismissed. Maybe Aura and her band of dragons had a different way of doing things out on the frontier, but since effectively forming Cloak in that meeting with Lydia and Ali, Alec had made it very clear he would not stoop to the level of the Order. He'd been there when ARMA made its break, and he was gifted...perhaps cursed... with the ability to remember every last horror he had seen, reliving them at will. Perhaps the Order had changed their way somewhat, but their legacy was indelibly stained for anyone old enough to remember who they'd been when ARMA made the world aware. It would be increasingly obvious to Gavin, as he talked, that the panel before him had honestly no idea what he was worried about. Only after Gavin finished speaking would Alec speak up. "I think, Mr. DeLuc, that you have the wrong impression, here. You're free to tender your resignation at any time and walk away mostly unmolested." Alec paused for a moment, and Halliday stepped in. "It is understandable that you seem uninformed of standard protocols. We rarely have anyone who actually wants to leave, and we do our best to make sure our mages and agents are happy in their positions so we can keep it that way. Aside from information regarding the highest level clearance... which you do not have... and any specific operations with clandestine significance... nothing in your head would cause permanent damage to ARMA's reputation, even if it were revealed. Your life is yours to live. Alec nodded his assent. "Your skills would be a great asset to us on Cloak... but if you want to walk away today and seek employment elsewhere, you're welcome to do so. We'd ask you not to act against our interests, in that case, for a period of several years... and we'd request a way to reach you in case of a true emergency... calling up the reserves, so to speak... but you would have your life to live. We are not the Order." The mentalist sat back in his chair, and Halliday closed his notepad. Now all that remained was to watch for Gavin's reaction. It seemed ridiculous, the divide between expectation and reality here. Perhaps ARMA really did need some PR help.
  3. Words and Wax

    Alec's eyes narrowed in a combination of amusement and annoyance as Rorye teased him. Still, he smiled back. Water would be wonderful, Rorye. He was sure... pretty sure, at least, that he'd mentioned Loke in the year since he'd had the beast at his side. Or had he really been out of touch for that long? It wasn't as though Alec ever actually spent dedicated time with Alistair's friend... girlfriend? He shook his head. Immaterial. He was here to help out with a problem. Man and beast made their way into the other room-- assuming, correctly, that there would be someone buried in books there. There always was. In fact, there were many people busy among the stacks. Most seemed agitated, as though they were searching for the secret to life, liberty, and the continued pursuit of happiness to be found somewhere in a book. Loke settled down by the doorframe in the teashop, just out of the way, where he could still keep an eye on the goings on, curling inwards, tail wrapped around himself, paws tucked under. There were glances from the patrons, some talking to each other, wondering about the cat. Some kept to themselves. Alec looked about, trying to read the room without breaking out any magic. People came here from all walks, some for legitimate reasons, others for reasons not so... and it was important that Rorye be allowed to continue her business, that her patrons were not disturbed by ARMA business unless absolutely necessary. Spooking a random warded patron with a broad mental search was the kind of rookie move Alec might have made some ten years ago. Now, he was a little more thoughtful, less brash. He would observe, still unsure what exactly Rorye needed from him. Hopefully, her return would bring answers, not just water.
  4. Words and Wax

    Alec's feet pounded the pavement... he'd always thought that was just an expression, but if you ran hard enough, you could actually feel that it was a legitimate description. The big cat followed suit, barely breaking a trot... even if it drew more than a few weird looks. It would be about another 5 minutes until he was there, but hey, he was coming, and that was all he'd been asked to do. The magus caught his breath, slowing down his heart rate as he approached the tea house, and walked in, half expecting the typical 'ding ding' of a bell above the door. First things first, find Rorye, then whatever madness could follow. A surprisingly gentle paw bumped on his leg as if Loke was asking whether or not his decision to come inside was ok. Just don't break anything or kill anyone... please. Alec said to the mountain lion.
  5. Words and Wax

    Alec listened, the words registering quickly. I'm in Central Park right now, but I'm on my way. There was a distinct pause, then the clarification of confusion. Don't stress about it. If there's anything you learn before I get there, just fill me in. Alec hung up and turned to the cat. Loke, You up for a sprint? The cat, named not only for a trickster god, but also for the spirit of the Lion, stood, stretching itself out with a quiet growl, and began to pad in a circle again. Alec directed it to follow him and headed off down towards Kells.
  6. Nobody Expects the ARMA Inquisition:

    Alec chuckled softly to himself as the mage before him stood taken aback. He would have probably shat himself were he called up before a disciplinary hearing... But this wasn't his disciplinary hearing. So he had nothing to worry about. Alec watched Gavin's face, noticing eyes flickering around the room the way we all do, subconsciously, despite best efforts to keep eye contact at all times. "In all seriousness, as long as the pay grade remained the same I would be willing to take offers from anywhere in the organization provided I could be at my house at least enough of the year to keep it from falling apart." Interesting. Was the mage more of a merc than a loyalist? Or did he still believe in the values ARMA holds dear? No matter how this went, Alec would be sure to follow up, learn more. "Your station and pay are, again, not in question here. And if you won't mind me speaking frankly, It's more of a hassle for us to take a trusted ARMA agent out of the field and... neutralize... the potential threat to our organization's security than it is for us to make sure our agents are happy, effective, and... not a liability where they are." Alec folded up the dossier on the desk and sat back, taking a moment to clear his throat as Merval took over. Before you go thinking we're doing this for our own reasons and speculating wildly, let me clarify. Cloak would benefit from having someone like you... both in the field and at home. The tower rep took his chance to chime in here. "Not to mention you'd break much less equipment if you were closer to HQ to have it repaired before it got that bad. "Now, as I was saying." Merval interrupted his interruptor. "We could use you. Knight squadrons could probably use you. There are other commanders in Shield who might give you greater freedom in your actions." Merval finally sat back in his chair, indicating he had said his piece. "So there you have it. No division can promise you won't be off on deployment for months at a time in extreme circumstances, but this isn't an inquisition... well, ok, we're inquiring, so maybe by the dictionary's definition it would be... Alec shook his head, pulling himself out of the rambling line of thought. I guess what we're saying is... it's your choice, Gavin.
  7. Words and Wax

    Alec was out when the phone rang. Why? Well, that was a question for... someone. The mage had enough shit in his mind to answer several times over. Nonetheless, here he was at 10-ish on a Saturday wide awake and sprinting through central park with a mountain lion by his side, a walkman on his hip, and a pair of headphones in his ears, hoping the aura of technological fuckery that accompanies all mages would cooperate long enough to get through this album. Slowing down and coming to a halt by a park bench, Alec motioned to the beast to sit as he fished the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. Caller ID was a luxury he avoided. Too potentially complex, after all. Even if the phones were burners and flip phones to be discarded and replaced any time magic flared up, keeping them working longer was just easier. Walker. The word was spoken as an identifier, both of identity and of authority--not so much an invitation to continue speaking as an exhortation to do so. Breathing audibly slowed as Alec listened for a response, pacing back and forth to keep his heart rate from falling back to a resting rate.
  8. Nobody Expects the ARMA Inquisition:

    Alec had not chosen the panel. If he had, the men would have been representatives of each department. Such was bureaucracy, however, that availability of appropriate people takes a back seat to speed of execution where matters of review were concerned. Alec was also not a veteran by the military definition of the word. He had never been issued a uniform and a rifle and told to shoot in that direction. Nonetheless, the mentalist knew many who were, had spent time in their heads, and removed the most painful of their memories so they could function once more. He knew enough to recognize nonstandard dress, but not enough to engage off the cuff. Brown eyes registered recognition of the soldier's modifications to his service uniform. The man had tensed, recognizing the absence of shield. It was unfortunate... especially if the goal was to put this mage at ease. Alec would have to advocate for better matches on these review boards. Gavin responded to the invitation to sit by standing and taking full stock of the situation. He somehow grew more visibly tense and then relaxed mentally into what seemed to be a rehearsed speech. Good. The man was interested in staying afloat. Merval scratched a note on the pad at his desk. Alec let fluid motions carry ink onto page. Halliday sat silently, staring at the soldier. Ultimately nothing that would be discussed here mattered so much as the way Gavin portrayed himself. And he seemed to care. "As for willingness to lead, I think that it is fair to say that I am not the most excited man in the world to be in charge of other people’s lives when we go down range, or even when situations occur like the incident at the Harbor bombing with the virus exposure. There are risks that we take every day out there, and even a routine call can turn into a life or death situation for the entire squad." A slight smirk from the mentalist. He would let this continue. There had been recent situations that had raised concerns with many in leadership about Gavin's command. To hear that he was reluctant brought an actual chuckle, followed by a quick apology. Georgian drawl slipped through the layered Chicagoan and New York accents developed over a lifetime away from home. "Mr. DeLuc, I do apologize for that. Bit surely you know the old adage that a commander who enjoys his post is unfit to hold it." It was something he'd heard once, never attributed to anyone. "I dont think any of us walked in here to talk about stripping your rank or command and putting you away. And hearing your genuine concern for the lives of your fellow is as good a reason as any for us to stay away from that course of action. Isn't that right, Thomas?" Alec gave a smile and set his pen down, his last words directed at the representative from Tower, who nodded and acquiesced. Alec paused. "We are here to make sure you're in the right place, if that makes any sense. Your tactics lately have been... shall we say... unorthodox? for shield. You aren't a match necessarily for tower either, in terms of power set, according to records. However... there are places in ARMA not governed by those two branches." Alec was alluding to knight division, comprised mainly of those who had served prior to merging with the silver winged who defended the borders of the Eastern Seaboard. It had occurred to him that a man who had fought dragons might not welcome fighting alongside them. There was also cloak, there were commanders other than Gavin's own in Shield... there were options. Alec leaned forwards slightly. "So here's the million dollar question. Would you rather be somewhere else?"
  9. Silence, My Brother

    He'd zoned out completely, barely filtering through the conversation. After his second question, Alec made sure he was listening intently. It wasn't totally worth it. Though the "lose a report" tactic sounded fun. He really could just make it seem like he'd never seen a document before. Whiskey went down smooth as he settled the glass on the bar. I might just have to give that a shot. Not enough else happening to make it dangerous. The mage really hated small talk. There wasn't much else to say here, but it would be rude to just walk away. He did actually have work to do... ok. One more drink, and then he'd head back up. Bartender was signaled, glass refilled. Now what the hell would it be ok to ask here? He had no idea, and the silence sat awkwardly in his head.
  10. Silence, My Brother

    Mon Aug 24, 2020 6:13 PM Blue. A single finger was held up. Johnny Walker Blue Label, already fine whiskey, was still scarce. The distillery had not had time to produce yet another batch since re-opening its doors. In other words, it would be a miracle if this bar happened to have it. Then again, Boone was nothing if not resourceful. The mage glanced around. Any familiar faces? Any faces best forgotten? That would remain to be seen. After all, it was only a little past 6 on a Monday. *Can you believe the balls on this guy? *I know you’re pretty much made of steel, but who the hell tackles a tiger? What? The man looked almost offended. It spilled my beer. Was I supposed to just let that go? Light glinted off the second speaker’s forearm, exposed under the shredded layers of green cloth that had once been a zookeeper’s uniform. Alec shrugged off their presence and turned towards the other side of the bar. Oh come on! What? Was it something I sai… Boring. ARMA was quiet these days. Could there be anything more obnoxious than quiet? He had nothing to do except handle paperwork. Why couldn’t they have some kind of scandal? Where had the false mages gone? And where the hell was that drink?
  11. Silence, My Brother

    Fingers wrapped around the glass, holding it level. Right. The doctor. Not a field agent in the traditional sense. Still one of the most valuable mages they had ever had. Doesn't matter that you can nuke a city if your arm's not attached. Keeping the mages healthy had been a concern from the start. "So what are ya doing out tonight? Blowing off some steam from work or just restless and bored?" "Just taking a few minutes away from my desk. You wouldn't believ... Well maybe you would. Is hospital bureaucracy still as bad as it used to be?" Alec chuckled. He could remember the days before the event when hospitals needed some 7,000,000 signatures from 50 different doctors just to look up your nose. But since the nevus, the mage hadn't set foot in a hospital, let alone as a patient. The fact remained that he had mountains of paperwork on his desk. Psych evals to decrypt, requests for new training and sometimes tech, the usual shit. He needed a break from the monotony... maybe just go home early tonight. See if Cass wanted to go see a movie or something... scare the crap out of people by taking the cat for a walk... something completely mundane in a different way. But he was being rude. Here was someone talking to him. "Right... yes, paperwork. Pretty much Mount Kilamanjaro in my office back there. Sometimes I wonder if anyone would notice a page catching fire."
  12. Silence, My Brother

    There was good reason to recognize Alec. Before his current post in Cloak Division, he'd been a public face during the war. And yet this woman had a good reason to forget him. It was easy if you weren't under investigation. Or hadn't been. Those who had been investigated would have more trouble forgetting. They knew the face of the man who had been in their heads. Alec Walker. I think we've met a few times at the office. Strange how, in peacetime, it was the office to him, but that was a conscious decision. HQ sounded too military for everyday use. And it was as close to a workaday existence as he really knew. Show up, push papers, take lunch, more papers, go home.
  13. Silence, My Brother

    Eyes flicked around the bar again, settling on the amber liquid constrained within... probably glass. Boone wouldn't pull some shit with acrylic alternatives, would he? He wasn't one to forget a voice, Alec mused, but voices could come and go as they chose. Vague recognition sparked abandoned pathways in his brain, triggering a series of possible names and connections. Of course, if ever he actually forgot who someone was, he had a way of finding out--dive deep into the memory palace he had built and categorized... if only he could have a full-time curator in his head. His eyes would catch hers on another pass around the bar. Field Agent. The voice in his head piped up. We all have a voice... whether we listen to it or not is another question entirely. For the life of him, however, Alec could not remember what it was she did. Last name was a bird... Something like a sparrow... Martin? Well, nothing else to do here. Lifting the glass--yes, it was solid, heavy glass--from the bar, Alec walked the short distance over. Agent Martin, right? What brings you by? The words may have taken on a tone more accusatory than he'd intended, but with so little to do at HQ these days, disciplinary inquiries were a significant chunk of cloak's duties.
  14. HELP RETAG RESONANCE!!!

    Resonance: Because you really did need that prehensile tail.
  15. February 20, 2020 1:30 PM Where Columbia had remained open even through the madness of the apocalypse, it had been ten years, and there was no longer even a fraction of a reason why the best and brightest of what remained of the nation could not attend a top school. Alec did, of course, miss his Alma Mater, but Chicago was a long way to go, just to see what probably was little more than a zombie breeding ground for any foolish enough to venture forth. Nonetheless, here the mage... no, today, the scholar, the doctor, found himself, standing in front of a podium. [walker] Testing, one two three. [/walker] Alec spoke into the microphone. Nothing happened, and he fiddled with the device for a moment before just chucking it under the podium into the storage space there. It was a simple cantrip to amplify one's voice. [walker]Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats, the lecture will begin shortly.[/walker] Students continued speaking amongst themselves, making it obvious who the dedicated learners among them were, and who had simply attended for some social experience. Alec cleared his throat, still amplifying the sounds from his vocal cords, and then, when the class would not come to order, layering his voice with a light mezmer. Some students were still unaffected, but when they saw the rest of the class sitting down, they obliged as well. Alec dropped the layered speech and unfolded a few notes on the podium. [walker]As I'm sure you all know, because you have come to hear me speak, I am Dr. Alec Walker, one of the world's few remaining experts on Scandinavian history and, in particular, the use of its Runic alphabet for the practice of magic.[/walker] Alec had long since given up on powerpoint, and instead opted for an overhead projector like the ones his own teachers had used in elementary school. [walker] Yes, this device here on stage with me looks like it belongs in the era of the dinosaurs, but as I trust you all know, having spent the last ten years in the same world as the rest of us, magic tends to render technology unusable, so I keep things simple.[/walker] The first transparency to be placed on the projector was simply the alphabet of Futhark, in its eldest form. [walker] You may recognize some of these letters, and you may wonder what some of them even are. The fact is that Futhark is the direct predecessor to the romanized alphabet. For a time, the rune "thorn," pronounced "th," was a part of the English language, until we replaced it with the letter Y in print. "Ye olde sweet shop" is actually "the olde sweet shop."[/walker] Alec chuckled, though no one else probably would. [walker]But enough boring you all with etymology. You want to know about this. [/walker] The second transparency was an image of the Galdabrok, more specifically, the very copy Alec had touched on that first Resonated day. [walker] Of course, you have all learned the history of our world, illuminated as it has been by those who were here before, and those who have since returned. In the days before the very first Resonance, Humanity knew how to harness and wield magic. In the days after that first schism, magic drained from the world, but the rituals that were used to try and harness it once more were preserved. Around the world, different languages and cultures developed their own rituals, hence the lack of any dedicated curriculum for spellcasting in the modern day.[/walker] Alec switched transparencies once again. [walker]Here, for example, you see three different languages, each detailing a way to cast the exact same spell. [/walker] A small dummy was wheeled out onto the lecture stage, and Alec assumed a stance clearly. He first chanted the words in the Futhark dialect, sending a sphere of wind across the stage with an audible whoosh and a visible impact, knocking over the dummy. It was propped back up, and Alec spoke the words next in Arabic, with the same, albeit weaker result. Finally, he spoke the words in Urdu, to an even weaker result. [walker] My magic stems from my connection to the runes, and as such, it is strongest in connection to other, similar languages. Now, each of these three incantations are typically paired with a set of rituals, usually involving spell circles, magical foci, and other accouterments. With practice, any magician can move beyond such ritualistic preparations and cast the spell, often without invocations. Like this. [/walker] Alec held out his palm once more, firing a ball of wind across the stage with the same intensity and ferocity as the first, to the same result. The talk went on to discuss the roots of magic as rooted in linguistics, and the fact that where Freud believed totemism was an attempt to understand the world, it was, according to Alec's own theory, an attempt to restore the world to its former state. Eventually, the bearded mage stopped talking, and opened up the floor to questions.
  16. A few scattered questions peppered the audience. [walker] Joseph Browning's work is probably a good place to start if you want to know about the origins of chanted spells. Your very own Professor Moynihan wrote an excellent survey of linguistic magic about two years ago, and I'm sure the references cited in that particular text will illuminate the subject further. I hope that answers your question. [/walker] The girl who'd asked the question sat down, apparently satisfied with the answer, and Alec waited for the students to finish scribbling down the information he'd disseminated before taking another question, this time from a girl sitting in the back. [walker]That's a great question. For anyone who couldn't hear it, the question was about whether the strength of magic ties to a mage's native language and their level of understanding. [/walker] Alec paused. [walker] I wish I could give you a concrete answer, but I think the best way to explain it is a little roundabout. My current working theory is that there are primary languages that are closest to "pure" or "true" magic. These are the languages that became others--Latin, Aramaic, the so-called Babylonian Chaldean language. [/walker] Another beat as Alec quickly jotted down these languages on an empty transparency, leaving plenty of room between them. [walker] Societies developed and languages were formed, lost, and evolved. Latin splits into the Romance languages--Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Romanian--and into Italic scripts, which eventually become Runic Scandinavian languages. Aramaic splits into Hebrew, Arabic, of which there are many forms, even bleeds into Sanskrit and German in the form of Yiddish. So on and so forth. [/walker] As he spoke, each language was drawn onto the family tree of its respective root. [walker] I'll use myself and our friend with the tattoos as examples, then. [/walker] Alec marked himself down on a distant branch of the Latin tree, highlighting the direct connection between Futhark and Latin, only two nodes apart. He then marked down the tattoo-ed individual on the same tree, showing the six levels of distinction between modern Castillian Spanish and its Latin roots. [walker] I have no definitive proof of my theory, as we can never prove anything in science--we can only disprove--but as I understand it, the closer a mage's first or native magical tongue is to the core languages of 'pure' magic, the stronger the effects. It would absolutely be worth exploring whether pictorial representations are subject to the same rules. [/walker] Another pause as Alec looked out over the lecture hall. [walker] In fact, if any of you have magical aptitude and a high, by which I mean near-native, level of fluency in Egyptian Hieroglyphs, Naxi, or any one of the pre-colonial South American alphabets and languages, I would relish a chance to talk to you about investigating this theory. [/walker] He hadn't planned to recruit based on this event, or even to open himself up to communication from the audience members after he left the hall, but this was a new angle he had yet to consider, and it was worth examining. [walker] Thank you for that question. I believe we have time for a few more questions. Does anyone have a follow-up?[/walker] It was easy to fall back into old rhythms with students and lectures. Alec hadn't realized quite how much he missed this. Maybe there was a way for him to leverage this solid turnout into a more significant affiliation with the school.
  17. Some of the questions were vacuous, completely nonsensical, or otherwise gave evidence of a lack of attention paid. Then there was a question from a man maybe a decade his junior. Obviously not a student, almost certainly not ARMA or OFL, or he would know the answer to his question. [walker]Thank you for your question, sir. Let me just make sure I am understanding exactly what you are asking. [/walker] Alec stepped away from the podium and retrieved an empty transparency to mark out key points. [walker]So, You're speaking of a series of tattoos bestowed by wise men and shamans in the... is it safe to assume five, ten years before the resonance? I am speaking very broadly about linguistic histories, which make the average human existence look like a period at the end of a sentence. It may very well be that some of these shamans were more spiritually attuned or magically inclined, but without more information I cannot really comment on your individual experience with such graven images.[/walker] The time frame was jotted down. [walker]I should clarify, The languages were, in order: Elder Futhark, Safaitic Arabic, and Urdu--as there is no real name for the variant of Hindustani language from which that spell is drawn. [/walker] Alec made a note of those clarifications in a corner of the transparency, then returned to the question. [walker] If there is one thing that would earn a Nobel Prize in the modern climate, it is a unified theory of magic. We do not know the root of magic, or its triggers for every individual. There are documented cases of immensely powerful, yet illiterate mages, mages who cannot speak or write. [/walker] Alec paused, listing out a few truly ancient languages on the transparency to be projected onto the screen behind him. [walker] What I presented to you all today was a working theory about pure linguistics.It is my belief that at least one branch of modern magic is strengthened by its ability to trace origins back to the languages spoken and used to channel magic before the first resonance. That said, the scientific authenticity of my demonstration here on stage was marred by the fact that I practice the Futhark variant of that same spell on a regular basis, and have minimal experience with the Hindustani variant. [/walker] [walker] We have no way of scientifically measuring one's aptitude for magic before it is awakened, and we had no idea magic existed before the resonance, so it would be difficult indeed for us to prove either of our theories here, but I absolutely appreciate the comment, and would be glad to speak with you about this more after this Q&A session is over. [/walker] Alec stopped to take a sip of water and left the notes he'd scratched down on the transparency in case anyone had a follow up question, or in case there were other questions to be discussed.
  18. Sonata (sunny) Cross

    I'd actually play on the idea that she doesn't ultimately know how to control her powers; talk about actual events that have transpired up to this point to illustrate high and low ranges of power. As for how those powers ultimately get executed, there's not necessarily a need to figure that out before you apply, so long as you end up actually discovering it through threads--tossing her into situations where the powers need to be used in specific ways so it's a sort of life/death sitch. General practice, AFAIK is to have concentration be the key factor, so maybe it's something about meditation that plays into her gaining control over her abilities? Could go the hulk route too. "That's my secret. I'm always insert emotion here." I dunno though. Just spitballing here.
  19. New York Minute

    November 1, 2019 Shortly before 6 AM Fog hung over New York City, a blanket of mystery. The aftermath of the city's famous Halloween parade was slowly cleared from the streets as denizens slumbered in their lofty abodes. All Hallow's Eve was a terrific night for members of the supernatural community. In both senses of the word, actually. Metas had ready made costumes in some cases, and humans were more accepting on that night. Magi and the supernaturally inclined, however, were on alert. The night in mythology when the veil was thinnest. It had to have some basis in fact. Alec was among those on their guard last night, and as the sun rose this morning, piercing the air, heavy with water vapor, a beam of light fell upon a reality he'd never get used to seeing. There it was, in a pool of red. A severed arm. Not more than a foot away, the body. As he approached, Alec could smell it. That was a real body. Not some fancy prop or anything. A mutilated body, but a body nonetheless. Arm cut off, torso slashed open, guts spiling out. [Walker] Fuck. [/walker] And of course no one had reported it. Why should they? Earbud plucked from his ear, pause button pressed on the little first generation ipod, Alec closed his eyes and searched for a nearby animalto serve as his messenger. A note was scrawled on a piece of note paper, torn from its pad and rolled up before being tied to the leg of a pigeon, sent on its way to the boys and girls in blue. He'd preserve the crime scene best as he could until they got here, then report it to ARMA. He muttered to himself, cursing the insomnia that had driven him to walk the streets that night when he should have been in bed.
  20. What do you do with a drunken magus? What do you do with a drunken magus? What do you do with a drunken magus early in the morning?

    1. Cassandra Greene

      Cassandra Greene

      Cass has suggestions. . . bow chicka ;)

    2. Zeph

      Zeph

      SHAVE HIS BALLS WITH A RUSTY RAZOR!! SHAVE HIS BALLS WITH A RUSTY RAZOR!!... SHAVE HIS BALLS WITH A RUSTY RAZOR EARLY IN THE MORNING!!

  21. It's Magic, You Know.

    June 30, 2019 Open Patch of Land in Brooklyn [walker] Never believe it's not so. [/walker] Alec mumbled along with the song playing from an old stereo in the empty outdoor space he'd chosen as his gym. He'd been theorycrafting the effects and necessary accoutrements for this spell for almost a year before even beginning to practice. A month ago, Alec had begun coming out to this lot to practice. Punches were thrown at empty air, breath drained from lungs before they could be re-filled. Hands moved forwards, elbows not quite locked with his arms in front. Feet were planted in the middle of a carefully drawn chalk circle. [walker] banamaðr veðr, minn kalla gaumra! [/walker] Alec thundered the words at the top of his lungs, thrusting his hands as far in front of him as he could. They meant "Wind Slayer, heed my call." A puff of wind burst from his palm and dissipated almost instantly. Alec kicked the ground, careful not to ruin his drawing. [walker] One more time. [/walker] Alec centered himself once more, head down as he breathed in. [walker] banamaðr veðr, minn kalla gaumra! [/walker] This time, the wind rustled leaves on a tree about thirty feet away. It wasn't a violent motion, but it was definitely his doing. [walker] I can do this. I can do this. Come on, Alec... you can do this. [/walker] Alec placed his palms together, going through every possible stance he could think of from shitty 80s cartoons to Naruto to anything he knew was used in this crazy post-resonated world. [walker] banamaðr veðr, minn kalla gaumra! [/walker] A branch snapped off the tree. Not a twig. A branch. It sailed about a yard before dropping to the ground. [walker] FUCK. YES! [/walker] Alec screamed, jumping. Dust ruined the circle, and he'd have to re-draw it to continue practice.
  22. It's Magic, You Know.

    Circle had been abandoned a month ago. Now, cold fall air surrounded the mage as he carefully sketched the circle around his feet. Only a minute prep. Not nearly good enough, but he didn't need it for the spell to work if he didn't really care where it went or how hard it hit. In due time it wouldn't be necessary at all. In fact, the mage only needed the circle or the incantation to cast it now. Thick Scandinavian accent filled the night air as Alec spoke the words. Together, circle and words were guaranteed to unleash the power of this spell when and where directed. Branch after branch was snapped from its tree and sent flying a few feet. Soon, it was silence and concentrated thought, followed by gusts of wind.
  23. Breathe In Breathe Out

    Mountain lion was pacified, seated next to the broad-shouldered man. Alec's hand ruffled the fur atop the beast's head. [Walker] Remember. No eating her. [/walker] The mage growled his words in the beast's language. It replied, slightly offended Alec had thought it would renege on the deal. [Npc] A quick snack at the cost of security? I am no fool. [/npc] Alec nodded in understanding and walked towards the girl when she replied. The beast plodded along, not far behind. [Walker]Sorry you got hurt. I didn't plan for anyone else to be up here. [/Walker] Alec noticed the fear evident in the woman's eyes. [Walker]He won't bite. Do you need some help to get home? [/walker] Alec briefly looked at the leg. It wasn't a compound fracture at least. Didn't mean it couldn't be a sprain, and he definitely didn't have the skills to heal or even detect a fracture.
  24. Breathe In Breathe Out

    The snap of branches drew the attention of both mage and beast, mage recovering first. Hands reached out to grab the jaws of the cat, holding them shut. [Walker]Why hunt bipeds?[/walker] Alec asked, guttural growls translating his thoughts to the animal's mind. [Npc]Slow, good meat, and easy prey.[/npc] Alec nodded and realized the creature was correct. Humans were definitely slow enough to hunt easily. [Walker] Would you...[/walker] Paw swiped at his face, and Alec leaned backwards to avoid it, releasing his grip on the beast's muzzle.[walker]...stop that! Trying to help you. [/walker] Another swipe, then the beast stopped and listened. [Walker] Would you still hunt if you were given food? [/walker] Alec was now hanging upside down from his knees wrapped around a branch as the beast stopped, seemingly midair and turned to face him. Clumsy lady was still in danger if this didn't work. [Npc] No starve?[/npc] Alec shook his head. [Walker]Let us go, or come with us, and you'll be fed well.[/walker] The wild beast seemed to understand and Alec hopped down from the tree, extending a hand in friendship to the thing. It nuzzled against him, seemingly calm. [Walker]Miss? You ok? [/walker] Alec called out into the woods. The beast sniffed at the air, searching for her scent.
  25. Shipping Up to Boston

    September 4, 2019 Sometime shortly after noon [walker]“Too much of anything is bad, but too much good whiskey is barely enough.”[/walker] A chilly morning had turned to a beautiful day. Perhaps, however, it was not that the day had warmed but that Alec had received word of a full barrel of Yamazaki 1984 sitting in an auction house up in Boston. A barrel of long since discontinued whiskey that was essentially priceless. He was certain he'd be bidding against people with near limitless reserves. Sotheby's had implemented several protections against interference to ensure the safety of the artifacts at auction. What did Alec have to offer? Well, he was earning a decent enough living wage, had saved up, and still had a fair chunk of his resources from before the resonance. But how often did a certified authentic 35 year old barrel of Japanese Whiskey pop up for sale? Alec had texted a fair number of friends and fellow ARMA agents who he knew had an appropriate appreciation for the beautiful golden spirit, and he was preparing to head out onto the open road. Well... into the gridlock of the city, and then out onto the open road. The auction was tomorrow, and he wanted to get into beantown tonight. Alarm chirped: "Here I am!" Alec had always appreciate that about the american-made car. Not that you could exactly miss the bright orange challenger in a parking lot, but it was a nice touch when you unlocked the vehicle. He collapsed into the comfortable bucket seat of the car he alone drove and rifled through the collection of CDs he kept in the glove box as the car idled. Damn. He'd given Wes his copy of Leftoverture. Eh. Save AC/DC for later in the roadtrip. For now, the radio. Of course, radio stations had come back to some extent, but the coverage wasn't phenomenal, and being magically inclined tended to fuck with your ability to receive things like satellite radio, even if that had made its resurgence. So, the voice of an obnoxiously chipper radio jockey streamed through the speakers of Alec's car as he shifted the car into drive.