TIS I, A HUMBLE CAPITALIST.

[murderbaby]

WHO: Ilias, Darras, Mhavos, Silver
WHAT: Vacation in Nevarra.
WHEN: Honestly probably backdated, whoops.
WHERE: A warehouse in Nevarra.
NOTES: time is bad.

• For reference.
• Top levels in comments, feel free to make ur own.

Comments

[hornswoggle]

"I don't disagree, but in the event our hand is forced..."

John lets the sentence hang, eyes moving directly to Ilias' face. He knows a little of what Ilias can do to horrify a person. It's a valuable tool, even of John agrees in delaying it's use.

"But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. And we may not come to it, if all goes well."

The idea of what "well" means is probably debatable. John's tone is light, but he isn't unaware of the unease among their company. Any apprehension he has about his chances of success can't be shown.

"Shall we?"

And then turns and heads down the steps towards their captives, expecting the others to follow.

[libratus]

Threatened.

Mhavos is both more and less comfortable with this than he would have imagined. Ilias wants to tell them he's about as threatening as a butter knife at a mid-day picnic, on that scale. And in one particular way, that's not untrue. As his shoulders wind with tension at John's unspoken suggestion, as the Fade gathers delicate as electricity at his fingertips, there is a simultaneous something in the air between the three of them that says he isn't anything to be threatened by at all. That the otherworldly pull his anxiety exerts on the room around them is— nothing to worry about, really.

With any luck, that sensation won't reach as far as their captives, however. Even if it did, the glow of unnatural light that follows it is likely reason enough for concern. A palm raised to the air, and with a resigned sigh, he drags a wisp through the Veil. Fine. He can make an opening demonstration.

He neglects to mention said wisp has the temperament and insatiable curiosity of a child; that doesn't mean it can't be made to do terrible things.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos is moments away from giving up. He is forming his request in the mind-- Ilias, Speaker, could you make the room dark as pitch and soundless? I have a better idea-- when a something intangible and mysterious blooms into life at Ilias' fingertips.

Mhavos is accustomed to being afraid of magic. He has had it used against him, seen it used against others, to both harm and amuse. But he has never seen Ilias use magic. That is... something completely different. He knows the man is a necromancer, he knows he speaks to the dead, to biting corpses and can conjure horrors that could twist the mind.

And yet, the thing Ilias chooses to summon is a tiny ball of light.

It's fantastic.

"Thank you," Mhavos says. "The average person-- myself included-- has no clue of magic's workings, and they have no clue of your character. I don't think much more than a light show will be needed. And if it is not enough, I-... I swear, I will handle it. You should not do something you think is unworthy of you."