Later, You'll Wish They Never Met

[Abomination]

Closed to Cyrus The Virus. This thread takes place immediately after This. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=7382) It is in the area of the Corone Bazaar. Please judge the previous thread and this one as one thread.

What now? The quintessential question. He stood outside the store, staring down at the blade he held in his left hand, the grip being firmly held by his right. Pulling on the handle a bit, the Homunculus felt a sting in his left hand, with a line of blood coming out of his palm. This blood was somehow familiar. Was it.... his? More and more he became aware of his surroundings. He lifted his head and saw the figures of people passing in front and behind him, ignoring him as if he was an inanimate object. Like in the store, suddenly things became very different. His mouth remained agape as if he was in a daze, his sharp teeth giving him a beast-like appearance. He remembered his mission: To find power. For what purpose? To survive. No matter how the common populace ignored him, he felt the presence of others, and he knew they could kill him easily. He wanted to become strong so those presences became like the rest of the people, until he could feel the entire world beneath him.

Still dangling the short sword in his right hand, he walked out of the crowded bazaar and eventually found himself walking along a short path. He was finally away from all those powerful beings he sensed, and for once he felt somewhat safe. With that basic need down, he once more considered what it was exactly he was looking for. It was hard to say, perhaps he was looking at it from the wrong perspective. He stopped in the middle of the path.

It was just a dirt trail between two small villages, just wide enough for a carriage with massive forestry on either side of it. The leaves glistened from the cool sunlight of the afternoon. He lifted his sword and started swinging it from left and right. He wasn't sure what this weapon was, but from what he heard, it was necessary for survival. Remembering the blood from earlier, perhaps it was survival in the form of hurting others. In fact, his instincts have already proven him capable of such logic. With added momentum, he swung harder and harder, feeling a strange euphoria from such an action. Of course, he had no knowledge of how to properly utilize such a weapon, and lost his grip on it during a particularly violent swing. The sword went flying, and unfortunately for him, it had a target.

[Cyrus the virus]

The months had been unkind to Luc Kraus, Geomancer of Raiaera and dervish of the Audeamus. Since the ravaging of that miniscule Corone village, Luc had distanced himself from Dan and Witchblade, not to mention the remainder of the repulsive Audeamus. They lacked Luc’s incredible ambition, among other things.

He had spent these months in isolation, a lone figure a few miles beneath the earth in a hovel he had build for himself, having used his incredible magic to carve the stone and mud into a living area. It was here that Luc finally took his time to study the many tomes he had gathered over the last few years, parchments and scrolls which outlined tales of legend and spells of incredible power. He had learned much about the secrets of Althanas’ magic, and now was his time to rise to the surface once more. The sun was obnoxiously bright, but the mage had spent his last few days rising from the earth to adjust. He was finally ready.

He emerged from the ground like a spouting tree growing to maturity before one’s very eyes. He was caked with dirt and mud, covered from head to toe in smudges, but the earth melted off him when he willed it too. A breeze plucked the stray hairs on his head and rested them in place. For the first time in his life Luc sported a thin, brown beard that did little to change his youthful looks.

He took quick inventory of his surroundings. It was nice to be on the surface again. In the distance he could see the reaching spires of the Citadel, but he could not admire for long. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it, a glinting item soaring right for him. With a thought, he had caught it with his mind. Similar to the way he had parted the earth with his magic, Luc had halted the sword just before it could bury itself into him.

“Assassins, still?” he wondered, dropping the sword that had been floating in mid-air. The source was a man who looked out-of-sorts, a sort of glassy, vague stare in his eyes that suggested he was an idiot.

Luc didn’t bother to speak. He lifted his arm and dropped it as if slamming his fist against a totem. At the same moment, the earth by his side reared up in a wave, then fell in the assassin’s direction, tendrils falling forth like a spider’s mandibles in an effort to crush him. His homecoming would not be ruined.

[Abomination]

His eyes absorbed all that he saw as if it was data. The weapon that was flying suddenly stopped in mid-air, but there appeared to be nothing around it. Not only that, but some sort of being came up from the ground, covered in dirt and mud. Curiosity overtook him, his mouth hung open and his expression was unchanged like a confused animal. This feeling quickly faded as the stranger somehow caused all the filth to turn into a watery substance and wash away. It wasn't this act that phased him, but the feeling he received once all the material obscuring his senses were gone. He felt that presence, that feeling which he dreaded. He was shocked into motionlessness, his body quaking with the staggering force of the man's power. This was nothing like in town, and he never felt anything like this before. The sword fell to the ground, but all that the Homunculus could thing of was one thing: escape. With his body unresponsive to reason, his instincts took over and he started to flee the scene.

He ran towards the trees, a familiar strategy considering his first encounter in this world. Of course, he could not run very far, as a large shadow descended upon him not three steps into the forestry. The trees behind him crumbled under the sheer force of the earthy wave, and he turned around to face his doom like a helpless lamb. Luckily or perhaps unluckily for him, the trees fell faster than the wave and pinned him between the ground and the tree trunks. His arms were crossed over his face, and his entire body was covered in mud from the gushing wave that ripped through the forestry around him. He opened his eyes and found he could not move his body, due to the various branches and tree trunks covering him, but he saw through the cracks the destruction that was wrought upon his area. Earthy tendrils had ripped through nearly all the trees around him, leaving wood not even suitable for salvage in their wake. It seems that the trees that took the last damage were on top of him, but if he had been a few steps in either direction, he would've shattered like a clay pot. Was it instinct that lead him to this safe haven? How is something like that even possible? Regaining his composure, he began thinking: If he stayed perfectly still like this, perhaps that immense force will go away.

It was then that his mind changed. His reason was invariably tied to his instincts, which were his guiding force in all his actions. Yet, he had grown tired of these forced feelings. His body wasn't moving because it was already following the advice his fear had laid out to him. All he's been doing up to this point was running, but how was that going to accomplish his mission? How would he gain power if he ran from every source of it? His reason and instincts were in conflict. This quickly came to an end when a more powerful force replaced Fear-- Anger.

Several branches burst from the woody pile he was buried in, and a muddy being slowly emerged, battered and bruised. His shirt was ripped, his coat was in rags, one of his pant legs ended at the knee. His left leg below the knee was slightly bluer than the rest of his body, a stream of blood was running from the edge of his mouth down his chin, and one of his eyes was half-closed. He could smell the fumes of overturned earth around him. A cool breeze passed through, taking off chunks of earth off of his body, blowing dirt away. He looked at the 'source of power'. It was a man with emerald green eyes that seem to pierce into the souls that they look into, wearing a dark green cape and a green tunic with a black trim. The Homunculus was being pulled into this vortex of power, this source of limitless potential. Now that he no longer feared, he was entranced by how powerful Luc was, lost in a frenzy of desire. He wanted to- no, needed to get closer. He began limping towards Luc, his eyes turned into chaotic black spirals on a white background. All he saw in his vision was a large mass of energy, and himself slowly being sucked into it like a black hole. He reached out towards it, nearly tripping in the process but regaining his figure. He looked like more like a beggar than an assassin. He could see it in his mind, although what he saw he did not understand. He knew something would happen if he touched this swirling pool of power, something incredible.

[Cyrus the virus]

The surface was strange after so much time spent under it. While the underground left Luc surrounded by fresh, powerful soil, Althanas’ crust exposed him to air once more, to fire miles away that he could sense, to fresh water. Like prodding fingers the elements nudged his mind, pulling tiny fragments of his attention away from the strange figure that had thrown its sword at him. It made his thoughts vapid and vague - he could only mildly focus.

His muddy wave splashed down against the ground, spreading into the earth from whence it was pulled. Spots of dark brown splashed against the mage, but they melted off instantaneously. Luc had long learned to ignore such effects, little details in the atmosphere around him that his subconscious handled – such was his power.

It had been a long time since he’d been surprised by someone withstanding one of his attacks. For every time he slaughtered a man like a helpless sheep, a dynamo emerged from his tornado, a warrior fought through the flames. Seeing the pale man pull himself up and carry on, his strange, abyssal eyes staring intently, Luc’s stoic expression did not change.

The dance was something he missed, especially since these recent months underground had left him off the radar of assassins and mercenaries alike. Now was not the time he wanted to spend flaunting his power, however; it had been far too long since he’d felt the touch of a woman, willing or unwilling.

Crossing his arms over his narrow chest, Luc gazed at the ‘man’ with dreaming, bored eyes. With not a movement on his part, another wave suddenly erupted from the ground between the two combatants, threatening to once again swallow the tiny figure in its shadow.

[Abomination]

Another wall of earth rose up between the Homunculus and his target, pouring dirt, stone, and vicious tendrils upon him. His eyes were still fixed on where Luc stood, still able to see his outline and the power emanating from his body, although now blurry. He stopped, almost in shock as he watched the massive wave once again tear through the ground towards him. Now was the moment of truth, the time where he would shed off his fear. No longer was he planning to be dominated by such a useless feeling, a feeling possibly gained from his first assimilation. He was not able to reject his assimilations or the consequences thereof, but perhaps he could suppress them. Of course, he knew nothing of the assimilation process.. yet.

Ignoring the obvious pain from his swollen leg, he bent his knees and prepared to jump. That's right, he was going to reach his target at any cost. Exerting all his remaining strength on this feat, he sprung forward from the ground, being absorbed in the wave that still hadn't touched down. Inside, his eyes were closed from the pressure, and his body was in a constant torrent of pain. He could feel the sharp, earthy pieces inside the wave tear through his body, ripping off his very flesh where they passed. Even with his eyes closed, he could still sort of see Luc's figure. This was nothing more than a hallucination, but it was generated by his sense of location for these powerful beings and his lust for power. The tendrils wrapped themselves around his limbs, pulling him back as if to protect their master. The Homunculus pushed and pushed, loosening the tendrils and forcing his right arm in front of him with a fist aimed straight for Luc's face. The rest of his body was following behind that fist, the full force of his being was in that one attack. Although, the damage was nothing short of mutilation. The tendrils had succeeded in ripping off his left leg, in chopping off the flesh from his right cheek, revealing his teeth, and in causing his body to bleed from nearly every orifice. At the end of this, there's no doubt that his insides will spill out.

The whole submerging and emerging took mere seconds, although to the Homunculus it felt like an eternity. He fist appeared first from the wave, in a mixed color of brown and crimson, mere feet from his target, and then the rest of his disfigured form, his eyes still a swirl of black on a white background. He moved at an alarming speed, and would certainly fly quite a distance hit or miss. He would have this power no matter what, even if it meant his death.

Bunnying approved by Cyrus The Virus.

He felt his fist slide by his target's face, just barely touching it, and and the next thing he saw was the dirt road and the sky alternating between each other as his body tumbled violently along the road, finally stopping several meters away from Luc.

Consciousness was fading. His vision was nothing but the blueness of the sky and the sharpness of the sun. The body belonging to him was nothing more than a bloody husk, with a missing leg and nearly every bone broken. It looked like he had been through a meat grinder, although his body still retained a recognizable human shape. His blood-drenched body almost blended in to the pool of blood around him, and he could only wonder one thing: Where had that power gone? It all felt so fast, but he felt he had touched the power and that caused it to disappear completely from his sight. His eyelids grew heavy, and the fatigue overwhelmed him. His eyes closed, and he let himself be carried off into eternal sleep... or so he thought.

A tingle, perhaps an involuntary spasm started at the tip of his fist and traveled to his heart. Something thumped loudly in his chest. The rest of his body remained motionless, but the thumping continued and grew louder and faster. The ground beneath his body trembled, and leaves were swirling around. The pool of blood around him slowly shrunk, as if his body was covering a large drain, or was the large drain. Bone structure, muscles, and veins appeared where they were lacking, and skin folded over these structures. His bloody body slowly regained its color, and even his clothes regenerated to the point where they could be considered brand new. His body floated upwards, turning him vertically and gently letting him down, so he was standing upright and facing Luc. His eyes were still closed, his body still breathless, yet there was clearly life flowing through him. Pillars of dirt rose up from the ground and quickly crumbled, and small explosions of fire burst around him. His hair grew down to his cheeks and remained a dark brown, some of his facial structure changed, and he finally opened his eyes to reveal emerald green eyes. If it wasn't for the clothes, hair color, and fanged teeth, their appearances could be indistinguishable from a distance.

He was defiantly glaring at Luc, who wide-eyed the whole time. Everything about his attitude changed, and he was not looking at his opponent as a source of power, but an obstacle. He was not thinking of how he just came back to life, how he was just feeling before all this extraordinary ability, or of any specific goal: He was genuinely curious of why he was standing in front of himself.

The surface was strange after so much time spent under it. He could only mildly focus, but he was sure this was not some sort of illusion. Why it had appeared he could not answer, but he felt that it meant to threaten him, and that was unacceptable. He finally began breathing again.

He lifted his newly-regenerated right arm, and sharply pointed a finger at Luc, declaring in a voice only slightly different from Luc's, "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I'm..."

He nearly lost consciousness in the middle of his speech. Who was he? He couldn't remember his name at all! Why had he been underground?! His memory was nothing but fragments, and he could not understand. Every time he tried to make sense of them he felt a sharp pain in his head and within moments he was on his knees, holding his head and writhing in pain. The Homunculus self-defense mechanism had activated. It was a system that prevented a much stronger assimilation target from taking over completely, and stopped an assimilation forcefully. The short-term effects would still go on, but they will have lessened permanent impressions.

He tried to regain his composure quickly and stood up, once again glaring at Luc, "Assassin! Nice try, but it's not that easy to take me down!"

Various geomancer abilities were still involuntarily being used, and it was like the Homunculus was the center of a small hurricane. His feet sunk into the ground slightly, a result of the solid ground he was standing on slowly turning liquid. An apple conjured itself out of thin air a few feet away and fell to the ground, and he found himself whispering a language he did not know to himself. It seemed that he had a one-track mind, and didn't even notice all that was happening around him. A new emotion had been implanted into his mind: Pride.

Lifting his arms, he slammed them both downwards, causing the dirt between him and Luc to rise and created an earthy cyclone with weak, thin tendrils that careened towards the latter. More flame bursts exploded around him, and the short sword, which had now been tossed into the woods, started shaking. While appearing calm and collected, baring some few moments of insanity, now that he was out of sight, his expression was nothing but horror. He could not wrap his mind around the kind of memories he possessed. They didn't seem to make sense in any sort of reality, they were like dreams. His priorities were much more important, so he disregarded those unneeded thoughts and pursued his intent of making mincemeat out of this imitation.

[Cyrus the virus]

The second wave was the last Luc was willing to throw, as he was growing annoyed. If it didn’t manage to take down the milky-skinned humanoid before him, the mage was willing to simply have the earth swallow him up. There was no sense in wasting any more time.

His eyes followed the wave as it fell crashing to the ground, nearly missing the Homunculus, covered in brown mud and dirt, diving at him desperately. Wiry and concerned, Luc managed to pull his right leg back and to his left, twisting his body so as to avoid the strike. The assassin’s first still struck, but it was a glancing blow hardly felt. Luc felt his chest tighten and his teeth clench – he didn’t like being hit, regardless of whether it hurt.

He spun, following the assassin’s movement as he tumbled along the ground. Luc’s fist was clenched, a whirling wind circling it, building turbulence. His teeth were bared, and all he waited for was a steady target.

Then his eyes opened wide, the wind about his fist dying down. Slowly he retracted his arms, crossing them in front of his chest as he observed the figure, taking on a much more humanlike appearance than he’d had before. The wind carried the assassin up to his feet, leaving a stunned Luc staring at the face of something that looked for too akin to him. Finally its eyes opened, and the mage could not close his own.

Then the imitation pointed its finger at the original, and Luc’s expression changed as he observed, listening and watching carefully. The strange doppelganger had adopted his abilities, that was obvious enough thanks to the imbalanced in the elements around them. The mage was starting to see this ‘assassin’ in a different light, less as a threat and more as something to study. It was all so very intriguing.

Before he could reply to this new Luc, it summoned up a small whirlwind of earth and mud that flung wet soil as it moved toward him. For once, Luc got the perspective of so many men that he had fought in the past. He mocked the whirlwind with a defiant smile, extending a hand to take control of it. As quickly as it had spawned, Luc had stopped the wind current at its core and sent the remains of the attack back to the ground. As always, the dirt he had been struck with melted off of him, making him clean once more.

His instinct urged Luc to do away with the copy, to have the ground swallow it whole and harden there, encasing the doppelganger in a prison of steel-like rock. His intrigue was so much strong than his instinct, though, and so Luc once again crossed his arms.

“Explain to me something,” he said aloud, his eyes meeting some invisible object on the ground that he stared at. “If you can take on a form as visually pleasing as my own, why would you ever walk around as some ugly, pale thing?”

He made himself laugh, not quite realizing how unfunny a comment it was. Luc looked up again, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the puzzle standing in front of him. Something about the copy’s expression betrayed its confusion.

Out of curiosity, perhaps something more, Luc asked “Where do you come from? What is your name?” He hoped the response could clue him in on what this creature was. Suddenly, he didn’t care so much about getting his rocks off.

[Abomination]

The Homunculus stared at his prey in disbelief. The man had somehow dispelled his ability as if it was his own. He was identical in appearance, and somehow copied his abilities as well? Not only that, he was invading his mind in some perverse fashion so as to jumble memories. Whatever sort of assassin had been sent against him was of the highest quality. He wished he could access his mind long enough to assess what kind of tomb he molested to unleash this kind of demon. He tried to regain his composure long enough to comprehend what the man was saying.

Luc's words only served to annoy him. Not only was he insulting his appearance, but the cretin had the gall to imply that he was the original. This made the Homunculus rather bemused, considering the various ways he'll dismember this visually-appealing foe. This train of thought was halted by the barrage of questions, which once again insulted him. He couldn't access that kind of information, and this man was the very cause of it! The Homunculus grinned with a fire in his eyes, a feeling of Vengeance ran through his system for the first time.

"It pains me to have to kill such a pleasant-looking creature as yourself," he stated with a renewed air of confidence, "But your fate was decided the moment you decided to invade my mind. Where did I come from? What's my name? You shall find it a more productive activity in discovering where you're going. Perhaps the same place I sent Venerus."

He involuntarily accessed that name. It seemed very familiar in recent memory. Nonetheless, he had wasted enough time. With a few elaborate motions of his hands with his eyes closed, he expected his adversary done away with. When he opened them, he found his foe still standing.

"M, my spells as well?!" He mumbled to himself in a low, audible voice.

His calm was removed almost immediately. What was he going to do without his geomancer abilities? He tried fishing his clothes for his wands but found himself absolutely barren of any useful inventory. All the wands were gone, his gloves missing, and the very clothes he was wearing did not match what he usually wore in his memory. In fact, the clone in front of him seemed more real every minute. He considered it some sort of horrible beast that steals identities, but this thought seemed very suspicious in his mind. Something had started to bother him. He was holding his head again as a sharp pain appeared once more. It grew worse and worse, until finally he couldn't take it anymore and started freaking out. He started screaming.

The winds around him accelerated, expanding to include a very large area including the one Luc was standing in. Leaves and dirt flew through the air at speeds exceeding one hundred miles per hour, and the fallen trees from before lifted up and began spinning within the wind, some on a direct course toward Luc. The elemental properties of everything were disrupted, with random spells going off in all directions. When the many objects would hit the Homunculus, they would pass through him as if he was ethereal. Sometimes he would even phase between dimensions. His power was now unraveled and spilling out. The liquid earth had frozen into sharp ice shards and thrown everywhere, the flame explosions had left blurry imprints that lasted for several seconds, and the short sword tossed aside earlier was flying around with the other debris.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc blew a harsh breath out of his nose. His teeth were clenched together, his mouth a tiny crack as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each word from the copy’s mouth was like a prick from a needle – not quite painful, but jarring in the annoying effect it had. Were he a more thoughtful man, Luc would realize that this was often how his counterpart felt when he was in battle.

The creature knew of Venerus, or at least appeared to. Luc was struck with a brief thought of fear as he realized it could access his memories. There were a lot of details there that the creature could find, if it could keep its thoughts focused. The mage didn’t like that idea at all, but forced himself to hold back from initiating an all-out attack.

Luc took on a rare observing role as the copy tried to use a spell, searched his body. The thing seemed to genuinely believe it was real, which had Luc second guessing whether or not this truly was an assassin. The confusion it caused was a powerful tool, perhaps a ploy to get Luc’s guard down. There were so many possibilities.

The copy lost its cool. Panicking, all of its newly acquired abilities ran amok, activating on their own and causing problems in the environment. It seemed all too familiar to Luc, who backed away a few steps to avoid incoming debris.

A tree trunk flew at him, as did some rocks and jagged branches. He was all too aware of them, raising gusts to blow them out of harm’s way before anything came close. The doppelganger’s panic showed no signs of stopping. Luc was too intrigued to let the creature undo itself.

“Stop!” he demanded, his own powers activating and reversing the effects of the copy. The winds died down, which eliminated the majority of the problems. When a fire erupted, Luc quickly extinguished it. One by one he targeted the effects and one by one, he told them to cease.

Still, the copy’s frustration didn’t show any sign of going away. In a flash of brilliance uncommon of him, Luc knew he had to appeal to himself.

As prideful as he was, Luc always reacted to belittlement, especially if he was shown that he was being a fool. The need to save face always overcame his other needs, and he was counting on the copy being the same way.

Using his Whisper spell, Luc began to speak to the copy, ensuring his words would get through the screaming. “You look weak screaming like that, unable to control your stupid self. Calm down! There’s no reason to be so out of control, these elements are your tool. Stop thinking about changing the elements, or else it’ll happen. That’s it. Only think of what you want to happen, instead of letting them manipulate you.”

He cringed at himself, wishing he’d had more time to formulate a speech, but as his spell wore off he knew it was done. The melting soil and assorted other elemental problems were being dispelled as quickly as they were beginning, at least.

Suddenly, with a strange grin, Luc wondered if he could Enslave the thing and call it Luke.

[Abomination]

Despite the near-disconnect from reality the Homunculus was experiencing, he heard the words loud and clear. The rush of memories and feelings slowed down as he realized the advice made some sort of sense. He stopped phasing in and out. He stopped screaming, as his body no longer felt like it was at the breaking point. Due to Luc's intervention, everything was returning to normal, though he still could not feel at ease. The sharp aches in his head continued.

The short sword that had been flying around stopped in front of him and floated casually in the air. The Homunculus opened his eyes amidst the pain, and remembered: His vision coming into focus when he first saw the demon girl, the running through the woods, the town and shop, and finally seeing this man... What did it all mean? Why were these memories, which made no sense considering his character, becoming so clear? He started, little by little, to understand.

"I have no name."

Everything stopped. All the various projectiles floated in mid-air for a few moments, then carelessly dropped to the ground, except the sword which fell into his arms. He held it like he did earlier that day, admiring its purpose. His hair fell out until only three inches of dark brown spiky hair remained, his eyes turned grayish-emerald, but his tanned skin color remained, as did most of his facial features. His spiky hair mostly lay in the front. He looked indistinguishable from average humans now, at least on the outside. The assimilation was over, or at least the short term effects were. There's no telling what sort of things he gained that he simply did not know yet. A name was important, an identity was important, and his sense of 'self' was important. He looked upon Luc and understood that he had felt this feeling before. Although he couldn't focus his mind to consider this subject with more depth, as he felt very weak-willed and susceptible to coercion. His body was still recovering from the regeneration and his borrowed strength was all but gone. His eyelids grew heavy and his vision blurred, but he remained standing in a daze, staring at his sword.

[Cyrus the virus]

(Spell success = approved)

Suddenly, the copy became solemn. Luc’s idea had worked, at least for the moment. As he witnessed the thing, with its eerie similarities to himself, droop its head, he readied his spell and wondered how long it would last.

Three words whispered from between his lips, and Luc focused his spell on the Homunculus. A swirling red light danced around the copy’s head, clouding its thoughts. Its eyes went glassy and it stood upright, seeming obedient and docile.

Luc took this momentary respite to look toward the Bazaar, a distant grey area beyond a barrage of green leaves. How amusing it would be to set the copy loose in it, killing everything it possibly could before finally being downed. The mage looked back at the doppelganger, deciding not to do so.

“Listen to me. You are a copy of me, a clone, but I am the original. You will obey me as if I controlled your fate, because I do. You will come with me so I may observe your abilities, perhaps you can be of good use.”

Before the Homunculus could respond, Luc gripped its arm and used his Windwalk spell, transforming both Lucs into wind. Leading the way, the mage brought them high above the ground, zooming quickly enough through the sky that the forest was but a blur of green. All too quickly, they perceived the color of buildings and wood, flashing by rapidly as Luc brought them up into the second floor of Radasanth’s inn. There, they regained their solid forms.

He crossed his arms, getting his bearings quickly – he was so used to that form of travel, of course. When it seemed like the copy had regained its composure, he spoke.

“Downstairs, you will attempt to interact with people. I want to watch as you speak and learn. Go now.”

Luc went to the door, twisting the knob and exiting onto the balcony which overlooked the downstairs parlor. Two dozen or more people sat scattered about the area, chatting and eating. Soft music played from a piano. Looking back at the copy, who Luc couldn’t decide whether to call Luke or Lucas (always amused at the idea of either), he cocked his head to indicate the enslaved creature make its way to the stairs.

[Abomination]

When the red light circled his head, the Homunculus felt foreign thoughts invade his head. Before he could express surprise over such an intrusion, he found himself standing upright with his sword sheathed, watching Luc with some affection. He felt compelled to obey his words as if they were of one mind, and his attitude being so easily taken by suggestion, he willfully obliged. He was not aware of his subjugation though, which lead to some confusion from his side. Every word from Luc was now gospel to him, and Luc himself might not know the exact ramifications of that.

Following Luc's declaration, he found himself traveling through the wind at a speed unreal. Normally he would be panicking, but somehow he felt that he should trust Luc no matter what, and that this was his doing. When they finally landed, the Homunculus found himself breathing heavily on his hands and knees, his heart trying to burst through his chest. It was not the shock of the event that caused this, but his absorption of it. Were he in a more advanced form, he could possibly learn such a spell. He felt the glaring eyes of his new master, and pulled himself up. Once again, he felt compelled to obey, yet did not question it. His lack of questioning is what will ensure this relationship will last.

The order perplexed the Homunculus. It was very vague and included terms the Homunculus was not familiar with, such as: interact. Although, Speak and Learn were words that he understood. He had no capacity to question the nature of such an order, but merely to follow it. Had the enslavement hampered his ability to have rational thought? No, his body was simply still weak from the recent ordeal. Additionally, he would be unable to assimilate anyone in this condition. His limits were abundantly clear.

He stepped down, remembering the way the countless people casually walked in the bazaar. That's right, his only ability was imitation. He would take all that he observed to this point and use it as his own. He didn't realize that earlier on, when he first entered the town, he was walking awkwardly, but blended in naturally and eventually walked like everyone else. The patrons at the inn did not give him a second glance; most did not even notice him. Interaction was still a vague order to carry out, but he attempted to accomplish the lesser goals of speaking and learning.

He stood around at the bottom of the staircase, unsure of how to act next, just observing his surroundings. There were several groups of people, but many people tended only to themselves. Food and drink were had by most, something which piqued his interest. He walked over to a table one man was eating at and stared down at the plate of food. The activity intrigued him. The man glanced at the Homunculus, looking up at his eyes and then back down at his plate.

"What are you starin' at?!" He asked with angry-looking eyes, "Get your own damn food!"

The Homunculus looked at the man, but not in the same way he looked at Luc. In fact, he seemed to look at the man the way Luc looked at the Homunculus: thoughtful, observant, curious. He knew that he needed to speak.

"Food?" He asked, but quickly attempted to reword his question when he discovered a memory of eating, "How?"

"Are you kidding?!" Asked the man after standing up suddenly, "Are you fucking with me?!"

The bartender, who thought the Homunculus was an inn patron, saw this scene and called out to him, "Hey you! Get over here! If you just wanted some food, just say so!"

The Homunculus suddenly felt threatened by the man's sudden action and took a couple steps back. He didn't know how, but he knew the sudden shout was for him. Perhaps he could feel the eyes that were on him, perhaps he simply looked towards the loud sound. Either way, he walked over to the counter. The man from before seemed more confused than anything, and decided to drop the matter when he saw the sheathed sword.

"Now, you got money right?" Asked the bartender.

"Money?"

It sounded familiar. He remembered the weapons and armor shop.

"Yes."

"Great! Well let me fix you something up, then. Sit down, will ya? That rigid standing is givin' me the creeps. I'll only be a moment."

Once again obliging the order, the Homunculus sat down. This was going along more smoothly than he thought. Unfortunately, his odd manners had momentarily gained him some unwanted attention, but this quickly dissipated. Inn patrons have little patience for odd characters, unless they are particularly violent.

His strength was slowly returning to him, and a small pixel of dissent formed in his undeveloped mind: What... had.... this.... to do... with... his... survival... his... desire... of... powe--

"Here you go!" The bartender let the plate down on the table. It was covered with a fork, a knife, and a T-bone steak.

The Homunculus had lost his train of thought. He blinked a few times, then remembered that this sort of exchanged warranted the loss of coins. He presented a small pile of coins, which caused an odd stir by the bartender, but he still gladly sorted out what was due to him and left the rest. The Homunculus ate the steak based on what he observed, and finished it very quickly, without stopping for any break. He felt the life of the steak flowing through him, the nutrients and protein being absorbed by his body. He did not know it, but the muscles in his arms were bigger than they were before he assimilated Luc. Was it possible that a more developed assimilation yielded more effects than just physical appearance? The Homunculus had no time for such thoughts, as he was concerned with his mission, given to him by his master.

[Cyrus the virus]

(Sorry for the long wait)

An intrigued Luc watched the copy go about the business set before it. Like a learning child, the creature spoke with a patron and even ordered himself some food. Slowly, the gears within the mage’s head began to turn, concocting the beginnings of a plan twenty years in the making. If he could earn the copy’s trust and devotion, without the need for mind-altering spells, and the copy could learn to mimic certain foes… the possibilities were endless.

His time underground had been largely devoted to the study of ancient spells and magics. Most were beyond his current capacity to understand, but with every read scroll Luc gained some knowledge. Most of the spells had a single thing in common: elven origin. Eluriand had long been Luc’s goal, the ‘promised land’ in his mind that he would one day own, but knowing that such magic had been spawned in Raiaera only made him thirst for the city more. He wanted to own it, to rule it and collect the many magics reserved for the High Bard.

He had known a few weeks ago that his time to claim Eluriand was coming. It was in the earth, a vibrant prodding of his mind that told him it was near. So he’d spent some time reading a rare copy of a tome written by a man many years past, whose ambition mimicked Luc’s own. Within it was information on Velice Arta, Eluriand’s massive palace and base of operations. Information on wards, on guards, on the general structure of defense and what few ways there were to bypass them.

As he watched this strange creature, this assimilating thing go to work, begin to learn, so many choices were made clear to him. He could essentially be in two places at once, an advantage that no elven guard could suspect. He’d need to rethink his original plan to assault Eluriand, but it would be well worth it.

Luc watched the T-bone steak beneath his copy vanish. He needed to know how much it could learn, how loyal it was, and how developed its mimickry of his abilities could become. It would take a bit of time, but Luc was willing. It was for the greater good.

Of course, to know these things Luc had to see how willing the copy was to follow him of its own volition. He dispelled the Enslave spell, standing at the corner of the balcony overlooking the Inn’s parlor, watching to see if the copy would leave, come back to him, or do something altogether unexpected.

(Feel free to bunny if you want to)

[Abomination]

A strange thought clicked in the head of the Homunculus. He felt finished, not just with the food but with his mission entirely. He looked at the exit of the inn, and stood up, staring at it. To get himself out of this crowd and somewhere safe was an idea that suddenly loomed in his mind. He began walking to the door, but stopped to stare at the staircase. He stared at the staircase deeply, like it was beckoning to him. His eyes widened, and he remembered.

You will obey me as if I controlled your fate, because I do.

A swirling red light danced around his head, and all his hesitation vanished. He walked to the staircase and went upstairs. Subconsciously, he had cast the Enslavement spell on himself, bringing him once again under the control of Luc Kraus. Also, his sword shook for a moment within its sheath. Perhaps spells used against him were stored in his subconscious, although he had no way to consciously bring them out. Why it was cast upon him once more? He took Luc's words very literally. He heard them while under the man's control, and thus he found them to be the truth. Simply dispelling the spell did not suddenly make those words untrue.

He walked upstairs, certain that his mission was complete, stating, "I have completed what you have asked of me, master."

[Cyrus the virus]

Intrigued, the mage met his copy's gaze. Nodding his head repeatedly, a satisfied Luc let possibilities swirl around in his head.

"Very good, very good," he said aloud. "A most interesting ally you've been. I think you may have a rare chance to really help me with something I'd like to accomplish."

The day was still young, but the sky was growing grey under blanketing clouds that gathered rapidly, blocking the sun. The inn's windows, that had been pouring steady streams of light into the building, suddenly grew dark.

Suddenly he said, "We will go to Raiaera tomorrow, to learn of the elves and their lands. Before that, you and I must spend this day in discussion... I must understand your existence more clearly than I now do."

Luc's vision for Eluriand was blurry, but it was there. He wanted to focus on it, but knew the plan would take some time to develop. It needed to be intricate - perfect. The copy could help, but only of the mage had its complete devotion.

The creature would likely have to be sacrificed in the end, but Luc knew it was worth it for him to achieve his ultimate goal.

((I guess that's it for this intro quest, bud))

[Mathias]

Quest Judgement
Later, You'll Wish They Never Met

Years ago, I'd had the idea to do something similar to you, Homunculus. I'd never had the balls, nor would I have had the patience to pull it off, however. Therefore, I must applaud you, first and foremost, for the concept of your character, and the well-done execution of it thus far.

STORY 20

Continuity ~ 7/10 This picked up right where your Bazaar thread left off, and, along with your profile, gave me a good sense of the direction this was heading. Having not known either of your characters overmuch, even Cyrus, beforehand, I quickly felt at home in this thread after it started to roll along.

Setting ~ 7/10 The settings weren't particularly vivid, but they were used well, and in so many ways. From the essence of Geomancy, to the interaction with people in the pub, it all served as tools for character growth. Good job on that.

Pacing ~ 6/10 I can't really pinpoint it, but parts of this thread just seemed somewhat choppy. I wasn't particularly enthralled by the actual progress of the story as told, but more rather, the concepts and the ideas driving it. The best advice I could offer you is to coordinate your battle sequences a bit more beforehand - the bunnying seemed to sacrifice characterization, and even action, for the sake of progression.

CHARACTER 19

Dialogue ~ 6/10 It was average, it kept the thread going, and it was slightly stunted, a little forced, in some cases. There wasn't anything I found particularly witty about the taunting, nor anything particularly boring, either. Also, Homunculus, I noticed a repitition of the word power. An expansion of synonymous terms would help you there; Although in the actual dialogue, I can understand if "Luke's," vocabulary would be rather limited.

Action ~ 6/10 I like Geomancy, and I like the style of the Homunculus's absorption. Some of it kind of made me think a moment, like when "Luke," jumped through a giant wave of rock and dirt. And then regenerated really quick (although I can understand that was done for progression's sake.) The biggest problem here, is there's just not enough ways to describe magic and wizard-battles that haven't been done to death. And once you have, it gets to the point where it's "I'm a powerful mage. Bam. Fireball," without the ecstasy of feeling the spell itself.

Persona ~ 7/10 I definitely felt out your characters here. I like how the Homunculus is just a vessel of personality and will continue to become an amalgam of individuals. And Luc, who, although the wrathful, maniacal wizard-that-wields-doom, I can't imagine the development it must've taken to get him that far and to actually be able to wield that power with the experience and time-staking effort to earn the right to wield it.

WRITING STYLE 18

Technique ~ 6/10 I have a hard time critiquing the style itself, so I try to save it for last. However, it still happens that I'm unable to bring myself to say much else than I've already covered, and I hope that's been enough.

Mechanics ~ 6/10 There were a few mistakes riddled throughout your posts. Mostly, just typos and words misspelled. A bit more proof-reading is all. Although, we can't expect to polish every inch to a perfect sheen. (Also, feel free to go in and edit something if you find a mistake. Having that tag at the bottom of the post, in no way, makes it less attractive, aesthetically or professionally.)

Clarity ~ 6/10 There were times where I had to reread a few events, mostly only at the beginning, to make sure I'd understood all the action and the events transpiring.

MISCELLANEOUS 6

Wild Card ~ 6/10 All in all, I enjoyed the thread, and look forward to maybe judging the next in the series as it's completed. I'm liking your characters, and I can only expect the interactions between them will only grow to be more dynamic, more impressive, and more refined, as time goes on. Good luck, and good writing.

TOTAL ~ 63/100

EXP Rewards
Homunculus receives 540 Experience Points!

Cyrus the Virus receives 2300 Experience Points!

GP Rewards
Homunculus receives 135 GP!

Cyrus the Virus receives 135 GP!

Other Rewards
Homunculus receives a little pin-to-your-shirt nametag that says, "Hi. My Name is Luke."

Cyrus the Virus receives a little book called, "Your Magical Minion and You: A Pet-Owner's Guide."

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!