daybreakacademy | I didn't think of a Clever Log Title (Open)

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I didn't think of a Clever Log Title (Open)

Who: Maya Matlin, and YOU!
Where: Campus Grounds, Legionnaire Quarters, The Cross of Life, The Citadel, Places where Maya might go.
Warnings: None.
When: Time is an illusion (various points in August).

I. Campus Grounds

Maya came back from the museum heist with a new instrument, a hewn stone lyre that looks like it has never had its strings retuned, and never needed it. The stone was also remarkably light, and thrummed with power she could feel even without her extensive magical senses. It was magic, it had power, and she had no idea what it did or how it worked.

She should, of course, take it to a proper teacher and see if they can study it and find out what it does. But that isn't as much fun as doing it yourself, and there was every chance it'd never come back to her if it was really interesting. Instead, she's sitting in the middle of campus toying with the strings. Listening to the sound it makes, and the sound its magic makes. Piecing together how certain strings want to play together, the magic and sound melding into something flawless, while other more standard progressions sound wrong.

She's sitting there, taking notes, putting together what does and doesn't work. The pulses of magic from the right notes fade out into the air, but she's not sure of what it'll do. She keeps playing until she finds something that sounds perfect.

And then a sudden downpour starts. On her, and about twenty feet around her. Nobody will have a problem with suddenly definitely magic'd out rain, right?

II. Legionnaire Quarters

Going home meant she didn't have the space, or tools, to really work out. She knows part of fighting the oncoming end of the world is legitimate fighting. She knows that it isn't exactly her strong suit. She knows she needs to practice, and she knows she's out of practice.

So she can be found, every day, working to get better beating up punching bags, or running through self-designed movement strings, with an extendable baton. She's improving, but she still trips over herself, and she doesn't always get the baton to extend at the start. Generally she's just not good at this.

Help her out? Point and laugh. So many options here.

III. The Cross of Life

When not practicing musical instruments, magic or otherwise. And not improving at her ability to hurt things with a weighted stick, she also spends time working on her powers. While most of what she does is as easy as breathing, her silence floats directly over her skin naturally. Expanding it, or shaping it into an area, is a little more challenging.

So she's sitting near the pond, stretching and shaping her silence around things near her, seeing how far she can extend it from herself, how small she can shape it when she gets away. Coating a room in silence and making sure just one bird makes no noise without disturbing the rest of the area are very different things.

Of course, walking through her silence is a very disorienting thing, having all sound around you vanish all at once. Like someone put the world on mute. So... have fun with that.

IV. The Citadel

Maybe the Citadel is the wrong place to practice using her stealth suit, skulking around invisible this corridor and that. But it seemed like the best place to practice. Her stealth suit distorts the light around her, making her slightly visible if you care to look close. And she has a scent to her (as most teens do). But her movements are as soundless as ever.

Sometimes she follows people to see if they notice, other times she just wants to see if anyone watching any of the security measures comes to talk to her. But she is being harmless as she moves around. Of course, Maya's not the most graceful and she trips over things and can knock things over. And those will be a lot easier to notice than she is.

V. Wildcard

And if none of those suit your fancy, Maya's likely to be found doing research in the library, playing cello in the music rooms or in the Lumiere 1 Common Room. And wandering Soleil looking for trouble to get into. I couldn't think of good jokes for the cut text on those. That's all.

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For most people, Rex could slink into spot people don't look and watch for a while- but he knows Maya will hear him coming so actually greets her properly.

"Hey, Maya" he says in his usual glum tone like they had seen each other minutes ago, though he is still happy to see her. He's not been seeing a lot of people that mean a lot to him recently, what with classes being out and people going to their homes. "Would you mind if I shared the space?"

For once, Rex is not in his coat- though his idea of a workout outfit is still considerably more concealing with most. A full set of leggings that goes into his trainers, shorts over the top of that, a similarly tight long sleeve shirt with a sleeveless jacket over the top, hood up. Even that's a little more revealing than he likes- he chooses not to notice his arms and legs aren't the twigs they used to be and now he has a physique more suitable for a giant like him. In his head, he's still the gangly beanpole that looks so temptingly snappable to any would-be enemies.

His gym bag has a faint sound of magic, whatever something bigger on the inside sounds like. Probably echoey.

It was good that people learned how to deal with her abilities. She wouldn't actively care if Rex just ignored her and got about whatever he was doing. End result, still the same, judging the leggings. She's noticed Rex doesn't show much of anything, and at the same time shows... leggings and a tight shirt make it clear he puts his efforts into every athletic endeavor he sets his mind to.

Maya isn't dressed to impress, but you can hardly argue for shy. The sports bra with a loose tank top means you can always see her bra, and the sides of her torso through the gaping arm holes. There are some small scars on her torso like she was showered in glass shards. And her yoga pants are exactly the sort of thing school officials deem 'distracting' as opposed to telling boys to look a girl in the eye.

"Plenty of space to share," Maya's form might not be improving as fast as her muscles are, but she is getting better from working at it. "Are you hiding some horrible tattoo choices? Is that why you're covered head to toe with clothes? Is there a cute colorful unicorn tattoo on your calf or something?"

Rex, being Rex, keeps eye contact anyway. Aside from his usual tendency to flick his eyes towards whatever is moving, in case it's going to kill him. Naturally, he takes note of her scars too- he takes note of everything.

"Yes," he says flatly, while thinking God, I've missed Maya. Rex roots around in his bag, pulling out another one of his odd contraptions- looks like a trap bar sans weights. He clamps a stand to the floor, which begins to hum ever so slightly- his weird electro-magicnetic weights are actually unnecessary to test the limits of the human strength he has, but hey. Build 'em, us 'em. "If someone looks at it, it tells them the exact time and cause of their death. I must keep it hidden, in case that cause is me, and they are tipped off."

She knows he's screwing with her, in large part because she was screwing with him. It's their thing. On the other hand, "Wonder if it can tell when I'll die. Knowing how and when might give me piece of mind."

Even if he had such a tattoo, she knows it won't register her enough to tell her anything. That sounds a bit too much like scrying to work on someone as insubstantial (magically) as Maya happens to be. She wanders over to investigate his weight rig. "This is a little overkill isn't it?"

It seemed like overkill, especially hauling it in. "How does your bag offset the weight of all that's in it?"

"That would be detrimental to my plans." Just casual jokes about murder, it's fine.

"It doesn't. It's just more space." The set up seems much lighter than a conventional rig- the small stand on the floor where the bar can rest and the bar itself. It has no weights attached, so it's practically weightless itself. He demonstrates that by lifting the bar up and giving it a slow twirl, effortlessly. Once he sets it down, he places his feet on parts of the stand and lifts. This time, clearly with much more effort. He grits his teeth and hauls, the magical device possessing some sort of harmonised magnetism so it doesn't wipe his electronics or have other items come flying at him. He does a few lifts like that, those well-earned muscles more obvious than ever.

When he legs go, it harmlessly floats down like a feather, settling into the stand.

"It was originally designed for people with superhuman strength, allowing them to test their limits without needing thousands of tonnes of metal. I can manually set the 'weight', but if have it calculate the appropriate amount of opposing force relative to the strength of the user, it can help rapidly develop muscle mass with little risk of injury." He stares for a second in that Rex way he has and then adds- "Also you can't drop it on your feet."

"I'm usually detrimental to plans." She is entirely cool with murder jokes, there's something definitely wrong here.

Maya listens to the way things work. The magic, the hum of anything electric involved. Listening to how it all works together. And a bit of passing all her maths and sciences because music and math go hand in hand. "So... lots of fancy toys to just make it efficient, can't people just magic their muscles bigger? What's the point of magic if you can't just cheat?"

Says the patron saint of hard work to be a better musician. Who wouldn't magic herself better even if it was offered. Also she doesn't make deals with things, she knows better.

"I could argue that's exactly what I'm doing." After all, he is using magic to make his muscles grow. He's just doing it with a step between. "But I know what you mean. But there are lots of scenarios in which that could go wrong. If it's a magic that is 'active', you could encounter someone who could reverse it with a counterspell, orichalcum, or other such forces. In more general terms, you're an excellent example of unexpected abilities that can render conventional magic useless. If you drop from 200lbs to 90lb in a breath, you're immediately on the backfoot- and often in horrendous pain."

Being Rex, he can't stop himself from doing demonstrations, so as he explains Rex easily hauls up the bar with one hand as if he's a circus strongman- with his foot on the weight control to make it possible. And when he describes the sudden loss of strength, he cranks the weight up quickly and the bar plummets, forcing him to drop it. The safety prevents a crash, at least.

"So the alternative is finding a way to induce rapid muscle growth that's 'fire and forget' so to speak. That's possible but usually comes with side-effects, often severe. Meddling with your bio-chemistry should be done carefully, or you will lose as much as you gain. You're again vulnerable to others tampering with your changes if there are remnants in your body too. Mages will often perform such experiments on their underlings, but then... why stop there? Might as well have a monster."

Resetting the device to automatic, he takes it easy on a few lifts. Something he can talk through, with a little difficulty. A few pants and grunts are splitting up his words. "So I've concluded I'd rather make the conventional method more effective through magic than rely on something that can be taken from me. It's the same reason most of my weapons are made with magic but aren't magical in themselves."

It was all perfectly reasonable spelled out like that, Maya's still from the place where magic didn't have rules, it was just magic. But for every magic, there might as well be someone like her who unmade that magic. In her case, it was scrying. But someone who unmade charms and influences couldn't be impossible because she existed to do that.

And Magic, as she was learning, was infinitely complex.

"So... the concern someone can just unmake your magic. The same way if anyone were to rely on scrying to forsee all threats would get screwed because I could just walk in and club them like a baby seal?" Maya wanted to confirm she understood his points, "And magic steroids would just have the same problems steroids have, only magic."

"But... couldn't someone just create a magic to undo muscle growth even if you got it the old fashioned way. Like a curse that made you five years younger or something?" If magic was infinite, magical threats were infinite anyway. So there was always some magic that could screw things over.

"That isn't how I would put it," Rex starts the usual line, once again internally remarking how he missed their conversations. "But essentially, yes."

He keeps pumping the iron as they talk, the weight shifting until it reaches the perfect point for him. With his deadpan expression, he tends to make it look easier than it is, but there's a sheen of sweat starting to build up.

"There's a lot of answers to that question, but loosely, spells are often an ongoing effect. Reversing its effects can be as simple as ceasing the cause. If I were to curse you to say... replace your bones with glass in an instant, it could be just as instantly undone. Conversely, to compare it to conventional processes, plastic won't turn back into crude oil when the refinery shuts down. So we're back to the countering problem. " Because she's right- magic is as infinite as science, though Rex is one of the few people who makes no more than a surface distinction between the two at all. If something is real, it's science and magic is real. It's simple. "It's not always true, but it's the most common way for altering something that presently exists. Creating something which then has an effect, such as fire that burns something, is a little different."

"But working out takes effort," Maya, you are here working on hitting people with a stick, you spend hours every day working on playing instruments. You're not opposed to effort. She just doesn't find much enjoyment or result from straight up working out. She can't track her efforts as easily as she can, say, her playing.

She wanted to either get stronger, or have a magic hammer that just hit hard without needing to be strong. Spending time just lifting weights felt like... well, a waste. To her.

"I can't think of much that doesn't," he huffs, evidence of the effort from the way a few beads of sweat rolling down his face. But his expression stays the same as ever, even as the weight slowly increases. He's no stranger to hard work either as if that wasn't obvious by the fact he basically never stops working. "...Not much that is worth doing at least."

His face finally makes a move when sweat drips over his eye, causing him to shake his head and stop to wipe his brow, also taking a moment to tug on his jacket a bit so it flaps and fills with cool air.

"Speaking of which, how are you progressing with the baton?"

"Yeah..." Doing things required effort, but effort was still one of those things she struggled with. A large portion of how she scheduled her day was around fighting off the depression. Sure, it was healthy, but it was just more work. On the plus, watching Rex work out was at least a welcome distraction.

"Fine- The general motions are getting easier. Still not the most coordinated person." Maya wasn't gifted with grace or elegance. Not without a musical instrument. Her attempts at sports or dancing generally didn't work out. The only reason she could be as stealthy at all was by limiting how much she moved anyway. "But I keep working on it?"

He's curious enough about most magic and lacking the basic sense not to stare that he has no problem watching people putter about on the grounds with anything that looks remotely interesting. An old instrument seems like it could be, though he's not sure what would be better; hearing it actually played or watching it fall apart comically with the attempt.

He pauses nearby, close enough to witness one thing or another without being addressed. He's no musician, but from the note-taking, he'd guess that she actually somewhat knows what she's doing. Or so he thinks until the localized downpour starts.

"Agh! No! No!" He's yelping and covering his head, scowling in disgust like it's something foul and not rain. He finds a tree nearby and takes shelter at the base of it before snapping out, "You couldn't put up a warning sign or something!?"

Maya, for her part, is more focused on what she just did. Like, she expected this did something, she just didn't expect it did this something. And now the question was how to get it to stop. She silenced the strings with her hand. No... she silenced the strings with her silence. Also no.

Hmm. She closes her book and tucks it under her shirt. She took a lot of notes and she'd like them to survive her discoveries. And she tried another series of notes. Which got a strong western wind. Well, that certainly didn't work.

Yes she's not really paying attention to the loud angry person yelling at her because she is preoccupied with magic.

It's fairly obvious that, while she might have known what she was doing musically, she clearly doesn't know what she's doing with the magic part of this. He watches her try different methods to no avail. And then the wind picks up and sends the wind flying sideways at him (just as it used to) and he nearly shrieks.

Instead, he storms out towards her. If she's not going to listen he'll take matters into his own hands. Unfortunately, being soaked through, he only barely looks more intimidating than a drenched cat.

"What. Are you doing?" He snaps. "Go backwards with whatever you just did or smash the thing."

"You're really loud and annoyed for a ghost," There was more too him but she was busy in the middle of trying to shut down a storm without breaking a three thousand year old harp. Which, given she couldn't silence it to silence the storm... would just leave a storm she created until someone else could disassemble the magic that was just freely floating in the stormclouds. "The magic in this thing is ancient and if you weren't being so noisy I could shut down these storms. Also the magic isn't tied to the harp anymore, so smashing it won't help you."

She hoped.

"It's a magical weapon accessed by sounds that suggest weather. It's not as simple as 'do it backwards.'" She was surprisingly calm given all the weather she was doing. It took a few more attempts, trying to find something that sounded 'serene' and, well, was the correct tune. On the plus side, her attempts didn't create anything worse than wind and rain.

"If I'm loud and annoying for a ghost you really haven't met that many ghosts," He snaps, not confirming her to be right or denying it either. It explained why she was just ignoring him though.

She has enough points that, although smashing it is still appealing, he has to concede. If it's designed to be a weapon then listening to it over him is the thing to do. But still.

"Fine. Shut them down then." He folds his arms and falls silent. Rain. Why rain? He waits for it to stop.

Once she got the rain stopped, and while she couldn't stop the strong winds she dialed them down into a gentle breeze. Which- good enough. Ancient Greek storm harps need to come with instructions. Once everything seems to be as fixed as she can, she slips the Harp into a case, and protectively puts that on her back.

Her notebook... well, that's a lost cause. She'll figure out a better way to take notes.

"Better?" She didn't expect a ghost- no, no that's not right. That didn't make any sense. She'll figure out how to ask what he is later, "Are you a cat or something, it was just some rain." Maya naturally looks like a drowned rat, a usual result of 'dealing with rain' but doesn't seem bothered by it. Even with her soggy notebook.

"Fantastic," He says, without a trace of kindness. He works wringing the water out of his shirt. And then he's making a face at her.

"No, I'm not a cat. I just hate the rain. It's cold, takes forever to dry, especially when it's some kind of magical bullshit curse personally put on me cause some asshole has too many frigin' feelings." A pause. "I would have at least had an umbrella if it had been in the forecast."

She really doesn't care about being soaked, he notes. He's judging.

Something tells Maya there is some deep personal tragedy attached to this. Something that might be really moving if she cared to hear it. She doesn't, this guy seems awful. He's the same sort of monster ghost her dead boyfriend is. But- also not. It's a complicated thing to work through.

But mostly she doesn't care right now. He wanted to smash her harp.

"Right, well, I'll put up signs or something next time." Which is to say she had no intention of not practicing outside and raining on people's parades. Because unless someone whined, the weather made out here eventually will get worked out. She has no idea what would happen inside. Just- rain forever?

All the better for him. He doesn't need nor want anyone digging into personal tragedy. He sneers at her, knowing full well she doesn't mean that in the slightest. Still, he's not going away just yet. His eyes are on the instrument.

"Where'd you find a weapon like that, anyway?"

It didn't seem like anything he's run into before. As far as he could tell there wasn't any kind of spirit imbued in it. Then again, it could be hard to tell.

"Stole it."

Well, she did. She stole it to prevent someone else from stealing it. But then she never put it back. She checked it against the staff, and since it's an instrument she got to keep it.

Sadly the library didn't have an easy way to hunt down the specific lore on this thing. As that might tell her what songs worked for it. But she did enjoy a project.

It's blunt and to the point. Not an ounce of shame. He laughs, sulky looked wiped away by a too-wide grin.

"Oh, so you're the resident delinquent around here? Good to know."

What did that say of the resident stereotypical band geeks, he wondered.

Maya's a little confused as to how he got there. I mean, yes, she stole it. And admitted to it. But you spend five minutes here you find at least a half-dozen actual delinquents. She's not really badass enough to be what he thinks she is.

"You're really new here."

She makes an affronted face. He's already laughing. Not much one for jokes, this one. Or maybe just not from him.

"Might be. OR maybe I've been hiding out for the past few months and you just never noticed. Who's to say?"

Well, she's to say, his specific sound has traits to it she'd pick out in a skipped heartbeat. Too similar to a sound she's heard in the past to let go of. Yes, for a school run by seers they were amazingly bad at security, but someone lingering for months would get attention.

"Definitely new here."

"And yet no one's given me a tour! No pamphlets, no tips... I have to say the welcome here is severely lacking."

He says, as though he's not well aware that people want as little to do with him as possible. But the game is fun and he sees no reason to stop just yet.

"Shame I'm apparently the resident delinquent. Or I could do something about that."

She's going to start heading toward one of the buildings, "Here's a tip though, people do magic. That means water might happen. Outside. Like rain."

Don't mind if he follows. Or do mind! He doesn't seem to care. Unless of course, he gets a door slammed on him.

"And I exist! Where means I might happen! But whatever. Is everyone here so prickly or did I get lucky running into you?"

Great, now he's following, that's the last thing she needs. "Your bad luck."

The sound of his nature is bothering her, but she's starting to learn to not just announce her powers unless she trusts who she's dealing with. And this guy- well, yeah, not trust. She turns around, the movement as silent as always, "What are you even doing here? That Kingfisher thing isn't around anymore."

The laughter cuts short. Whatever temperature his blood runs at, it's running cold now.

"...What?" Kingfisher. It's not the right name, but it's too close for coincidence. "Do you mean the Grand Fisher?"

He'd learned about the other hollows. He'd gotten a warning already. They never said it was him.

"That bastard has nothing to do with me," He hisses, voice cold. "Except that if he isn't dead I'm going to make him wish he was."

"Right, that, I wasn't a part of fighting him. I just know he's gone, and he's what drew all the others."

Well, she hit a nerve, that at least meant he wasn't acting like he had some sort of upper hand. "You don't really seem like the 'save the world' type, and if you were suppose to be here someone would have shown you around? So why are you here if you weren't drawn by him?"

"Chh. Well you've got one thing right. I'm sure as hell not playing hero." He's given enough up for that and he never wanted to in the first place.

He considers her. Who's to say whether she'll be more a hindrance or of use. He'd really rather not show his hand.

"I have business here. A hunter. And before you think it, no, I'm not hunting them. I'm making sure scum like Fisher stays far away." He shrugs and grins. It's mirthless. "Guess you could say I'm something of an ex-hunter." Which evidently worked out so well. His grin brightens a little. "Plus, all the fun is here! Seems you guys get into all kinds of trouble."

"So you're just here for all the fights, well at least you're in the right place."

Sadly her powers don't give her a sense of honesty, just a sense of the person's nature. A nature that's just too complicated to fully measure. The 'mask' sound, Cam's sound, that was easy to pick out. But it- it isn't bad enough, the mask sound was predatory. Powerful even when Hector had it, destructive to all around. But this is... less that.

"We don't need anyone making more trouble though. And I have stuff to do, so if you don't mind."

He only grins wider. Damn right he's in the right place.

It also leaves her thinking the lowest of him. That's fine by him. It means she's not digging in where she shouldn't be. Where no one should be.

He scoffs then and waves a hand.

"Lame, but whatever. Maybe if you didn't hog the trouble there'd be more to go around." He turns on his heel. "Later, delinquent!"

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I didn't think of a Clever Log Title (Open)

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