#and the ‘magician’ class was actually your rogue class

[vagueiish]

for no apparent reason, steps away from sleep, my brain hit me with a ‘hey, remember that fantasy world you started building years ago and then did nothing with? you remember that???’

partially? bits and pieces. because i don’t write things down. why are you bringing it up now, brain?

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #319: Charlotte Corday (Caster)

today on Grailfinders we’re almost done finishing up the first week of summer servants with Charlotte Corday (Caster)! she’s not supposed to actually know any magic, so get ready for the least castery caster you’ve ever seen!

(of course, this build does need some magic to get the angel and the illusions and everything, but we’ll be able to squeeze just about everything into an Arcane Trickster Rogue this time around.)

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

next up: *offkey kazoo* holy fucking shit, it’s a dinosaur!

Ancestry & Background

this part’s 100% the same as before, she’s still a Variant Human for +1 Intelligence and Charisma, as well as proficiency in Stealth and the Lucky feat to make all your terrible plans somehow work out fine. with this you get three points of luck a day to roll a second d20 on any attack, save, or check you make, or any attack someone makes against you, with you choosing which d20 is actually used.

she’s also still an Acolyte, Char grew up in a convent after all. that’s a boost to Insight and Religion.

Ability Scores

number one this time around is Intelligence. you don’t have any special magic knowledge to help you out, but you do somehow know how to do all those tricks, so it’s still a net positive. second highest is Dexterity. I know you’re normally clumsy, but you’re not while performing, plus I’m not going to completely gimp a build if I can help it. unless it’s dumping constitution and/or funny. third highest is Charisma- we’re not directly using it for anything this build, but every good magician knows their showmanship. we’re also making your Wisdom positive for reasons that will be clear later. this means your Constitution isn’t great, but we’re dumping Strength. congrats on becoming a caster, good luck surviving the next time Sei slaps you on the shoulder.

Class Levels

1. when you start off as a rogue, you gain a lot of skill proficiencies, most of which are perfect for a magician. Deception and Sleight of Hand to pull off illusions, Persuasion for stagecraft, and Perception to be smart enough to figure out other magician’s tricks. you’re also proficient in Dexterity and Intelligence saves too. on top of that, your Expertise doubles your proficiency bonus with Sleight of Hand and Deception, the most magical of skills.

you can also use your Sneak Attack to deal an extra 1d6 damage with a finesse or ranged weapon while you either have advantage or an ally next to your target, but more importantly for your show, you now know Thieves’ Cant to signal to your assistants without letting the marks in on the action.

2. at level two you can use your Cunning Action to dash, disengage, or hide as a bonus action. spoiler alert- bathing suits aren’t good armor. don’t take any hits you don’t need to.

3. at third level you become a proper magician as an Arcane Trickster, giving you a number of Spells you can cast using your Intelligence, most of which have to be illusions or enchantments. we’ll get into the specifics soon, but you’re definitely going to be able to summon your angel thanks to your Mage Hand Legerdemain- it forces mage hand into your spell list, and supercharges its abilities- now it can stow or retrieve objects in containers held by creatures, as well as use thieves’ tools at range. you can get away with it thanks to a contested sleight of hand check, and you can even do all this with your bonus action! you can also make your angel invisible when you cast it.

now then, onto the rest of your spell list. Minor Illusion and Prestidigitation are a must for any magician, the former letting you create images in the air, the latter giving you any number of minor magical effects for basically free. you can also Color Spray to blind enemies, Charm Person to use your natural wiles, or Magic Missile to toss knives at enemies without needing your middling dexterity.

oh right, you also have some Steady Aim, making your regular knives a little easier to throw. spend your bonus action and all your movement, and you get free advantage on your next attack this turn. this works for both your physical and magical attacks, so go nuts. but if you do use a real knife, you get 2d6 sneak attack damage, as much pain as a greatsword.

4. use your first ASI to bump up your Dexterity for better stabbings and less getting stabbed. even I’m not cruel enough to let you walk around with only a +2 to your main attack stat.

your stabbing/getting stabbed ratio will continue to climb thanks to your Silvery Barbs. as a reaction you can try to mess with a creature’s attack, check, or save, forcing them to re-roll and use the lower option- then you can give a free advantage to an ally to be used in the next minute. now you’re the luckiest damn rogue we ever did make.

5. at level five rogues get an uncanny dodge! why take damage when you can not do that? just react, and half your problems will disappear! this is competing with silvery barbs for that coveted reaction slot, but this one’s free, and only messes with attacks.

you also deal more damage now with 3d6 sneak attack damage.

6. sixth level rogues get another round of expertise, so make that insight and persuasion super good for super good magickings. now you’re better at picking targets, and you’re better at suspending their disbelief long enough to nick their wallets!

7. at level seven all rogues get evasion, making your failed dex saves only do half damage and your successes do none at all, but only you get invisibility. stick a curtain up, then vanish before it drops! also use it to sneak into places and make sneak attacks easier, i guess. second level spells are fun like that. speaking of, 4d6 sneak attack damage, pretty nice!

8. use this next asi to grab the tough feat for 16 extra hp now, plus another two bonus hp each time you level up. normally we wait until we have everything we need for the build before patching up health, but you have very little of it, so here, take it.

you can also levitate now! floating at waist height and headbutting people isn’t a great use of magic, but you can do it!

9. at level nine, arcane tricksters can set up magical ambushes! now as long as you’re hidden from someone before you cast a spell on them, they have disadvantage on their save this turn. you won’t have a lotta save spells for a while, but there’s always charm person!

you’ll always have 5d6 sneak attack damage as an option though.

10. at level ten you get another asi! it’s so much easier to pick up feats as a physical class bc they get so many of these. for example, you can use this one to become a magical initiate! now you can learn some druid spells like guidance for even better random planning and shillelagh for that wand bouquet you run around with. it still works only based on wisdom, so it’s not great, but a +1 to your attacks is a lot better than a -1. you can also detect magic once a day, but you’re not great at it.

that being said, you learn some more rogue magic too! sword burst can be any kind of big blast o stuff around you- pigeons, your hat spinning around, whatever. your angel can also use gift of gab if you mess up a bit, rewriting the memories of anyone you want within five feet of you to forget what you said in the last six seconds, and remember what you’re saying now instead. this one’s also reaction based, but I don’t think you’ll be in a situation where this spell and uncanny dodge show up at the same time.

11. at eleventh level all rogues have some Reliable Talent, so any check you make with proficiency will always be at least a 10 on the die. this means you’ve now got a minimum of 21 on every sleight of hand check you make, so your angel’s a lot better at helping you with your show.

speaking of, if you want to impress the important magical people, you need your stuff to look magical when it’s not. or better yet, make your magical props look mundane to sell your power even more. with Nystul’s Magical Aura you can do both, making a creature or object give false information when a divination spell looks at it. you can either change a creature’s apparent creature type, or alter an object’s magical aura. each cast only lasts 24 hours, but if you cast it on an object for a month straight the effect will last until dispelled. fool your enemies, wow your friends, fool yourself if you’re forgetful!

don’t forget your 6d6 sneak attack damage though.

12. this next ASI is a bit weird, but I’m grabbing the Strixhaven Initiate feat here because I’m not sure if you can take magic initiate twice. with this, you get light and thaumaturgy for more minor magical effects, and you can cast mage armor on yourself once a day for free, or more often by spending a spell slot as normal. pretty much every swimsuit swordmaster needs this spell if they don’t want to get skewered day one.

13. at level thirteen you become a Versatile Trickster, giving your angel even more ways to help your show. as a bonus action, your mage hand can distract a nearby creature, giving you advantage on all attack rolls against them that turn. I also thought this was the level you can use any magical item, but apparently that’s thief for some reason? freakin’ weird. knowing third level spells like Major Image definitely makes up for it though. now you can include four senses in your illusions, and it can move around!

that just makes your magic an even better distraction for your 7d6 sneak attack damage!

14. at level fourteen you get a lot better at seeing shenanigans thanks to your Blindsense, making you aware of hidden and invisible creatures within 10’ of you. you also get better at keeping your tricks from being found out thanks to Nondetection. with this, a willing creature or object cannot be targeted or seen by divination or scrying spells.

15. at level fifteen your Slippery Mind gives you proficiency with Wisdom saves. your angel’s about to start pulling out some serious shit, you’d better be ready for it.  I’d also file 8d6 sneak attack damage under “serious shit”, while you’re at it.

16. I don’t think we have enough spells yet. let’s steal something from the warlocks and become an Eldritch Adept with our ASI this time. with this, you can summon Misty Visions to cast Silent Image at will, and it’s even nice enough to remove the material component!

you can also create a Hypnotic Pattern in your show now, forcing a wisdom save on every creature in a 30’ cube. if they fail they’re charmed, making them incapacitated and reducing their speed to 0. even better, there’s no additional saves here. they’re stuck like that either for a minute, until they take damage, or until they’re shaken out of their trance. a good show can really suck you in, y’know?

17. at level seventeen we get one more feature from your subclass, officially branding you a Spell Thief. when someone casts a spell within a level you can cast, you can spend your reaction to force a spellcasting save. if they fail, that spell has no effect on you, and you steal the knowledge of how to cast it for eight hours. you can do this once per long rest. it’s not something Charlotte can really do, (afaik), but it’s also not something that’ll come up too often, so it should be fine.

the 9d6 sneak attack damage is 100% lore-accurate though, don’t worry.

18. at level eighteen you become quite the Elusive thief- no attack has advantage against you if you’re not incapacitated. with silvery barbs and a luck die, you can now turn what should be an advantage into super disadvantage- roll three and pick the lowest.

19. use your last ASI to bump up your Constitution. it’s about time we did something about those concentration saves. plus, you learn fourth level spells like Raulothim’s Psychic Lance! there wasn’t much from this level that would work well as your Noble Phantasm, but this gives you more skill sealing options, so it’s about as close as we can get. with this, you can target a creature you can see or name within range, forcing an intelligence save on htem. if they fail, they take psychic damage and are incapacitated for a round.

that being said, you’d honestly do more damage just stabbing them with that 10d6 sneak attack damage you have now.

20. our final level of rogue grants you a stroke of luck once per short rest, automatically turning a missed attack of your choice into a hit, or a failed check into an automatic 20 roll. definitely one of the stronger capstone abilities, and it’s pretty surprising it’s taken this long for it to show up.

your other ultra busted feature this level is the ability to cast Dimension Door. with this, you can teleport to any spot you can specify within range, even if you can’t see it, as long as there isn’t something else in there already. finally, we’ve figured out your magic boxes!

Pros & Cons:

Pros:

you are fantastic at stalling fights, wasting time and giving your party plenty of opportunities to prepare for what’s coming. whether that’s with some clever skill checks or mind-fucking magic, the curtain won’t rise on your show until you say it does. this is also useful for keeping large crowds of weak enemies busy while you focus on the big bad, or just so your party can deal with them in more manageable chunks.

thanks to all your ridiculous dice-altering abilities, you are one of the luckiest bastards we ever built, with the luck feat, reliable talent, stroke of luck, and silvery barbs all coming together to make it really hard for you to fail at anything important.

you’re such a bad magician you actually make everyone else around you worse at casting, and by that I mean trying to use magic on you is a terrible idea. you’ve got proficiency in two of the three big magic defense saves, evasion, and the ability to almost literally eat spells thanks to Spell Thief. add in your ability to constantly spew illusions in order to waste your enemy’s spells, and you can mess with any casters pretty dang easily.

Cons:

you’re not great at dealing damage. sure, your big sneak attack rolls are great, but they only work when they hit, and with zero stats at or above 18, that might be a problem. of course, low stats only matter in a fair fight, and you do anything but, but it’s still not a fun time if you get caught unawares.

your own magic is bad, with only a 16 total to cast off of giving your spells easy to make saves. like your physical attacks you do have ways to even the odds with a magical ambush, but that only works on saves, and it takes setup that won’t be possible in some fights.

your spell list is great for a stage magician, but not as much for a rogue. the sneaky teleporty spells will always have a home, but most of our spell list was spent picking up tricks, some of which are much less useful in D&D than in FGO. honestly I think I’d have fun working around a spell list like this, but it’s something you have to fight against to make useful.

[the-world-annealing]

Twelve classes to remix and replace the current ones (you know what system I'm talking about)

The Occultist is the most scholarly of the classes; your typical delver into Things Not Meant To Be Known. The mechanical heart of the class is knowledge gathering (this is the guy with all the lore skills) and divinations (with some necromancy and conjuration on the list); combat strategies range from raising legions of undead, to crafting a big golem bodyguard, to summoning fiends: much like 5e's cleric this class derives a lot of its identity from the subclass you pick.

The Conduit is your basic charisma-based arcane blaster, but with constitution elevated to a secondary stat. Energy spells, telekinetic thrusts, light, darkness, your odd bit of summoning or planar travel. Subclasses don't denote origin, but specialization: a trio of conduits whose power derives from an efreet, a devil, and a red dragon might all choose to specialize in pyromancy (giving actual fire-themed utility abilities, as opposed to 'uh spells of this type do more damage') and get their origin represented as a lower-key low-level feature more like the warlock's pact boon.

The Witch specializes in enchantment and nature-flavored magic, with a side order of potion brewing, protective charms, and of course a familiar. All very subtle, with that feel enhanced further by mechanics to suppress verbal and somatic components while casting spells. Intelligence-based, with wisdom secondary. With traditional druid and ranger gone, this is actually the place where all the animal-befriending stuff goes too.

And on the flip side, The Harlequin is all about big, flashy effects. Illusions are this class's bread and butter, but so are shields of force, teleportation, levitation; basically stage magicians as a class, with 'visible, external magic' as their hat. They get all the social skills on their list, as well as some performance-based features (merely casting a visible spell can already count as a 'performance'), and are charisma-primary, but don't get the bard's plethora of enchantments: their skills with people is based in mundane showmanship.

The Priest is the default divine caster with status removal and holy blasting and such, given some more identity via a 'ceremony' mechanic where appropriately god-honoring deeds and rituals get rewarded with minor mechanical boons (with a focus on increasing exploration-pillar utility). The nature domain is fine now that it's not competing as heavily with our druid-replacement, but 'war clerics' were a silly idea eating into conceptual space that paladins filled just fine. Medium armor, maces, crossbows, the deity's favored weapon as part of an effort to make deity choice matter more.

The Vessel is a dexterity-primary wisdom-secondary class that incorporates all those parts of the monk, rogue, barbarian and cleric that no longer have a home class. Lightly armored or even unarmored, reckless damage-focused combat style, limited casting, can grant partial control of their body to a possessing celestial/demon/devil/etc to increase combat prowess. Transformation is largely limited to surface-level features (and glowing eyes, of course) but unlocks a lot of new mental and spiritual abilities as well as heightened pain tolerance (represented as temporary HP). That last thing is good because possessors tend to drive your body as if it's stolen (which, y'know).

The Shifter is the druid except focused on the shapeshifting that makes druids unique, starting with humanoids or animals and eventually escalating to big monsters and strange chimeras. Minimal divine casting, maybe some heals or buffs, but none of this 'master of many forms AND friend to beast and plant AND capable of dropping a tsunami on you' that leaves druids way too broad to properly balance. Explicitly tie the fluff to the natural shapeshifting abilities of things like fey and werewolves, rather than ambiguous 'nature spirits' that no setting ever dares to commit to. Constitution-primary (lack of armor balances out the high HP), wisdom-secondary.

The Sworn is your typical holy warrior type: heavy armor, big god-powered weapon, defender of the weak etc etc I'm not even gonna pretend this is more than a paladin with minor touchups. Vows are more mechanically relevant; I don't want to bring back 3.5's ever-present threat of falling and losing everything, but the binder class from that same edition might be a good place to look for inspiration; small restrictions with small penalties for violating them, but lots of flavor.

The Scoundrel is the rogue, except it no longer needs to accommodate every single martial concept that involves being useful out of combat. Things like lockpicking, browbeating, and sneaking still go here, but if you want to play a detective or manipulative nobleman then this is no longer your best bet. In return, the class gets a more varied array of combat tricks than 'backstab, backstab, cunning action to gain advantage and uhh backstab again'.

The Expert, to make the pitch in a single sentence, is the class that tries to make skills and tools useful inside of combat. Strong intelligence focus, perhaps with the ability to use it for attacks/damage/AC, lots of little skill-related tricks to pull inside and out of combat. Ideally, gets unique uses for skills that other classes can't simply imitate by maxing out their modifier. This is also where characters who are first and foremost defined by their skill at alchemy/crafting/cooking find a place. The closest approximation in an actual edition might be 3.5's classic factotum/exemplar builds?

The Warlord is a solid warrior who also gets attack-granting, clever little positioning-based benefits, and yes, nonmagical inspiration-based healing. Intelligence is a secondary stat alongside charisma, and this class has unique abilities catered to situational analysis (where would I hide a secret entrance to this dungeon? when will that dragon return to its roost? what patron does the barkeep seem most afraid of?). Also some social skills and mounted combat stuff here.

Finally, The Weaponmaster is the game finally admitting you should be allowed to do cool things with a sword. Lots of weapon-specific paths with unique abilities: if you've ever had the thought "I wish I could make a viable whip fighter" or "I wonder if anyone made handaxes work", the weaponmaster presumably has something to offer. Incorporates some of the monk's enlightenment/transcendence seeking, and gets to pull anime nonsense at least on the level of 3.5's warblade and crusader. Gets features that are actually relevant during the social/exploration pillars, but still flavored as weapon mastery.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

All of your WIPs seem cool, so imma ask about 3 (sorry if I get some names wrong)

Of Wings, Blade and Shadow

The Fallen Cyborg

The Watcher and The Thief

:)

(in response to this post/ask game thingy)

*claps hands excitedly* oh boy!

I haven't thought about Of Wings, Blade and Shadow for a while now (aka had to go through the folder to actually remember what it was about), I created the concept doc in 2020 and last touched it in 2022. It's about these three characters in an modern fantasy setting who learn about a cataclysmic event that would destroy the city they live in. The main POV character, Jean, has angel wings and runs a bookshop. The secondary character, Gerik, has a sword that talks in his head (named Justine), and the third character is a morally-gray shadow sorcerer named Nels. I actually had a loose outline worked out, complete with plot and character growth, but I didn't end up writing very much of it before forgetting about it and jumping to what later became The Hunter the Myth and the Cure.

When I started The Fallen Cyborg in January 2021, I had the intention of finishing the first draft by the end of the year. Life happened and I didn't end up getting that far, but looking back I'm impressed I got as much done as I did! It's a sci fi novel about this lab experiment (known as number 49) who has been enhanced with numerous cybernetic implants and training to be a supersoldier. That is, until he discovers that he is considered a "failed" experiment and will be shortly terminated. Naturally, he escapes with the help of a hacker known as Qanan piloting a cleaning bot. It basically involved him attempting to start a new life and being chased by the government. I don't remember why I called it The Fallen Cyborg as a working title, but I still like it. I had a complete plot, a prologue, and 3.5 chapters drafted before I shelved it sometime in August 2021 (according to Google Docs). I intend to revisit it eventually but I am a very different writer than I was in 2021 so it might involve a complete rewrite of those 4.5 chapters.

I'd mentioned this before but The Watcher and the Thief began as a story about how my and my brother's D&D characters met. I played a Beastmaster Ranger and he played a Rogue. I ended up dropping it after 8 chapters for a couple years before picking it up again and reworking the plot to fit into Tales of Valaria (changing the magic system, the Rangers became Watchers, complete role changes, etc). One of the most significant changes is that my character became the villain and multi-classed to wizard. The story's about this Watcher, Hector, whose apprentice, Luc gets cursed by a magician. The only way to lift the curse, naturally, is to seek out another magician. Meanwhile Rift (my brother's character), attempts to steal a priceless gem from the Draigo (which used to be just straight-up dragons. Idk why I changed it. They can still breathe fire tho). And Octavian has a terrible horrible no good very bad two weeks.

[cloud-monki]

My cool ass dnd characters

Character #6: Nuovis

Class: Rogue

Subclass: Arcane Trickster

Species: High Elf

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Personality: Tomboyish, rash, stubborn, direct and rude, even at times gross, but likes to make others happy. She can even at times be extremely charming and convincing if she wants to.

Appearance: Short (for an elf), blue eyes, white skin and Short Hair that was dyed brown. She wears a sleeveless leather shirt and leggings. She has multiple swords and daggers on her. She also has a noticiable overbite.

Stats:

Strength: Low

Dexterity: High

Constitution: Above Average

Intelligence: Above Average

Wisdom: Above Average

Charisma: Above Average

Age: 112

Where did you get your powers? I think it's a mix of my talent and hardwork.

Title: The Acrobat Mage

Gender/Pronouns: Demigirl. She/Her

Sexuality: Omnisexual

Backstory: Daughter of a Baron, but a woman of the people, she enjoys entertaining them and living among them and she soon became street magician using actual magic and deception to impress others. She was soon kicked out of her home for being "an embarrassment". She then worked for a circus as a magician for 40 years, they soon became her actual family, but after a bandit attack, she was able to fend them off, barely surviving, now knowing the power that she holds, she left the circus and became an adventurer.

Roles: Face, Striker, Scout and Utility.

Conclusion: I like her, I don’t know how to describe it but she’s so fucking cool I’ve always liked tomboys but a chaotic good roguish tomboy that has a knack for entertainment, she’s great!

[probablygoodrpgideas]

Now available again: The Everything Bundle

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The Way of the Ancient: A monk that follows the Way of the Ancient is one that, while meditating, discovered an ancient, eldritch presence, deep within themselves, and embraced it. They gain the ability to disrupt the mind of their foes and are feared by the few who know about their existence

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[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Gift Fic!!

A very happy birthday to my dear @vkelleyart !! A little something to brighten your day and hopefully make you laugh!

I’ve Been Everywhere

Shepard

I don’t think I would have given them a second look if it wasn’t for the wings.

You see a lot of unusual cosplay at Ren Faires. You see a lot of cleavage too, but I’m not going to complain about that.

Some of the cosplay is amateur, homemade, but still in the mood of the whole thing, you know? And some of it is expert level, seriously slick.

Those wings were something else. Those wings were magic.

It’s hard to spot Speakers. They blend in, glamour the obvious, layer on the mundanity, making it nearly impossible to catch even a glimmer of the magic they hold. They go out of their way to do it, to mask the magic.

Not these three. At least not in the usual way.

Granted they looked pretty run-of-the-mill at first sight—a chubby, Middle-eastern looking girl in something like anime cosplay, what with that school uniform look. The tall, dark-haired guy with the Anne Rice, modern vamp vibe. My eyes almost slid over the stocky dude with them–he was just so ordinary looking .

Until those wings popped.

Maybe that should have been my clue. The ordinary. But it didn’t feel like the way Speakers usually mask it.

Because once I took a good look at them, they were practically leaking magic everywhere. Like they failed a Subtlety of Magic class or something. Do they have classes for Speakers? Like schools where they learn to control the magic and filter it, to hide it in plain sight?

I wonder. I’ve never heard about anything like that on the message boards.

These guys would obviously be dropouts, if they actually do have schools like that. They could use a semester of Remedial Magical Skills 101 or whatever they’d call it.

Those wings got my attention. They looked so real, even from a distance. Fluid. Not like the mechanical stuff I’ve seen before. And there was that weird thrum in the air when they popped out.

I mean, I’m not saying I can sense Speakers or anything, but there’s definitely been a change since the whole demon incident. Like I crossed a threshold or something, with magical beings? Like a veil was lifted, maybe.

I can spot them a lot better. Most of the time.

These three though. They didn’t look like much at first glance but they may as well have had SPEAKERS tattooed on their foreheads, the way they were acting. As if I could stay away from that.

I don’t know what was up with all that nonsense they were doing at the Faire. Wands out in the open. Magical words flying. Poorly, at that.

They really must be dropouts or complete dumb-asses or have gone rogue or something. No magicians would ever risk being so blatantly obvious with their magic.

I mean, I’ve followed other Speakers before and I’ve never seen a hint of a wand or heard a whisper of a spell cast out loud. I’ve read up on it—on the web, on the message boards, heard from other people who were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the magic workers doing their thing.

I’ve managed a few words with one or two myself.

But they’re evasive, secretive. They don’t talk about magic, they don’t even admit they’re magic. And they most certainly don’t go around sprouting functional dragon wings, decapitating fellow vampires with funky spells and using wands in public.

I’d be surprised if these three aren’t on some delinquent wanted list.

I trailed them when they left the Faire. For a whole mess of reasons.

They’re intriguing, for one. I’ve always wanted to know more about Speakers. These guys, they’re so out of control, so careless with it. I thought maybe this was finally my chance. My chance to get in with Speakers, find out what I can about them. Research, you know?

They’re nothing like the ones I’ve read about, the ones I’ve sweet-talked into spending a bit of time with me.

A witch-girl who decapitates first, asks questions later.

Berserker fly-boy.

And then that magical vampire. That’s a new one. A vampire with a wand. Who kills other vampires. I’d have said they were some sort of elite, covert, vampire infiltration squad, what with the decapitation and dusting they unleashed a few hours ago on the local Dracula crowd.

If they weren’t so completely inept at the covert part of that equation.

Maybe they’ve got something to do with the Next Blood.

Not that I got a chance to ask. They bugged out of there before I could get close enough to start chatting, introduce myself, get a conversation going.

They probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day, being magicians. Even though I helped that homely Edward Cullen wannabe with his spell. He’d have been dusted if I hadn’t.

I get why he chose to stick with the vampire cosplay. I mean, I can see it. Camouflage yourself in plain sight. It makes sense. Puts people off your trail.

He’s pale. And he’s got a widow’s peak.

But still. The circles under his eyes kind of detract from the look. And that crooked nose. It’s kind of the first thing you notice—it really takes over his face, like he’s all nose. Overly groomed eyebrows, far too heavy with the foundation, and then that honker. Yeah. He’s no Edward Cullen, that’s for sure.

I can’t believe they’re driving right into a Quiet Zone. You’d think they’d know what a bad idea that is. But then again, these three seem mighty clueless for magicians. Or vampires. Or harpy hybrids. Whatever they are.

It was quick thinking by Edward (I’m just going to call him Edward, it’s easier) to act like it was all a show. That might work for run-of-the-mill Normals. But anyone like me—or a demon in disguise, any Maybe really–wouldn’t be fooled.

Not with them spilling magic like that. I’ve never seen anything like it. Spells, magic fire, the dude bro guy literally flying. (I’m going to call him Kevin, it’s easier.)

It was unreal.

I flash the brights. I don’t know how to get these idiots to pull over. If they’re driving right at it, they’ve got no clue what trouble they’re getting themselves into.

I flash the brights again. The Mustang just speeds up.

Mustangs aren’t made for late night drag races on gravel. I try to stay close behind. They come back onto the main road just before the Henge.

Well, that’s it. Just crossed into the Quiet Zone.

I speed up.

The Mustang practically does a donut as it turns into the parking lot. No idea how to drive either. They need more than some friendly advice–they need a handler. Like a chaperone or something.

I pull up in front of them. Cut the engine and the lights. Get out.

“Hi.”

They don’t trust me but at least they let me get them out of that mess with Jeff Arnold. Never a good idea to cross Jeff or any of his posse.

And I was right about this crew. They are careless. The girl–Penny–she just magicked her way in here, into this hotel room, without a care in the world. Then she cast half a dozen spells on the other two. Simon and Baz. (I’ll have to stop calling them Kevin and Edward in my head.)

Spell after spell, to try to get the skunk funk off. It’s not as bad as it was, I’ll say that. Not as good as it would have been if we’d had tomato soup, but I doubt there’s a spell for bringing bathtubs of soup into existence.

She just cast them all in front of me, like I didn’t even exist. I expect they’re going to try something on me. I wouldn’t put it past them. They’re not masking their distrust, I can tell you that. Not the first time I’ve dealt with that and I’m sure not the last. I’m used to it by now.

These three don’t seem to be following any set playbook, just reacting to situations as they come up. I suppose you could call it resourceful and bold, but that doesn’t fly with the local Maybes or the resident Speakers.

Not the way it’s supposed to be done. There’ll be a reckoning if they don’t watch out.

That’s where I come in, if I can smooth talk them well enough to get past their defenses. Penny’s fierce, I’ll give her that. Put a proverbial knife to my throat while I was driving the getaway car. I don’t know if that’s sheer bravado or stupid desperation. Probably both.

I should be able to bring her around. If she ever lets me get to talking, that is.

They all look like hell. Grubby, exhausted, the faint aroma of skunk still clinging to them.

I’m right about Baz though. He’s a vampire, no question. Took a chestful of shotgun pellets and lived to tell. I don’t know if lived is necessarily the right word.

Survived might be more accurate. I know people call them the undead but I didn’t really believe it until I got up close and personal with this guy. Scrawnier than the Twilight vamps and a lot less sparkly, for one. Almost as fast though, when he was running alongside the truck.

But there’s a weird innocence to him. I don’t know if that’s the right word.

I mean, he’s fierce too. Cold as ice, grimly menacing. Certainly not afraid to play with fire, which seems a bit risky to me, considering.

No qualms about incinerating his own kind, that’s for sure.

I’ve seen vampires before, from a distance. Like the ones at the Faire. They’re pale and arrogant, powerful and vicious.

None of them ever looked quite this lost.

He and Penny collapsed on the bed by the window almost as soon as we got in the room. I hadn’t pegged them as a pair, but it works, I guess, if you squint.

Opposites attract, so they say.

And they are opposites, at least in looks. He’s tall and lanky, pale as the moon, all sharp edges. She’s short and round, warm brown skin, warm brown eyes. At least they’re warm when she’s looking at the two of them. They’re blazing and accusatory when they’re on me, that’s for sure.

Still, they’re nice eyes.

Edward’s—I mean Baz’s—nose is even more noticeable up close. It’s like they fitted him with the wrong size? Like it was made for a much larger person. Someone with a broader face. And it’s too high, like it needs to be shoved down a half inch. That’d probably make the proportions even worse, what with that wide mouth of his.

Was his mouth always that way, I wonder? Or did it get bigger because of the fangs?

I have so many questions.

Doesn’t look like I’m getting any answers tonight. Penny and Baz fall asleep in minutes, not even bothering to get under the covers.

So it’s just me and Winged Victory over here. He’s got his back to the door, like some threatening sphinx guarding the exit.

The sphinx I ran into last March was far more attractive.

I can’t tell if Simon’s got freckles in his acne scars or scars on his freckles. In any event he’s got literal craters on his face. And so many freckles. Big ones, small ones, clusters of them.

It’s like some pint-sized Jackson Pollock shook a paint-laden brush at him. Repeatedly.

I don’t know what to make of him. He was like some Biblical avenging angel, wielding cosplay swords like they were the real thing this afternoon. Staking vampires like it’s his literal job.

I don’t know. Maybe it is.

Simon’s got a scar that runs down across his left eyebrow. Splits it in two, with a little bare patch in the middle. His arms are crossed over his chest at the moment. He’s got scars all over them too--wide, silvery scars. Thin pale ones. Puckered gouges that look like they were left by claws.

He’s glaring at me, but I’m used to that from Maybes. At least until they get to know me.

I just smile back.

read it at ao3

[raeynbowboi]

The Character Forge: How to Play as the Phantom of the Opera in DnD 5e

So first thing to discuss is that we’re building the pop culture figure, not specifically the Andrew Lloyd Webber Musical version. So, we’ll be looking across his many incarnations, as well as his book origins. I’ll also take this time to say that the 1989 Horror movie starring Robert Englund is a personal favorite among the Phantom movies, wherein the phantom’s ugliness comes from a Faustian deal with the devil to be a musical genius.

The Angel of Music

In spite of all of this tricks and Illusions, Erik the Opera Ghost is undoubtedly human. Albeit a hideously deformed human, but a human none the less. You could make him a Variant Human if you feel you absolutely must. In the book, Erik is an extremely multi-talented man so feats such as Prodigy and Skilled will improve the number of skills and expertise this man has.

You threatened to blow up an entire building full of innocent people if a girl didn’t marry you, and kill anyone who finds your underground lake layer. You’re somewhere between Chaotic Neutral and Chaotic Evil, though if you want to play a more sympathetic version, he could be Chaotic Good.

For background, Erik might be an Entertainer, but he mostly only ever performs for himself and Christine. However, in the book, he did spend some time as part of a traveling circus as part freak show and part stage magician. He could be a Charlatan, he deceives Christine for years that he’s her Angel in order to creepily and obsessively stalk her. He could be a slight variation on a Folk Hero, except instead he’s more of a Folk Tale. An Urban Legend that not everybody believes exists. Noble is a far reach, but he has a lot of influence, and people tend to give in to his demands out of fear of what he might do to them, effectively acting like the owner of the opera house, which he somewhat is as the building’s architect. Madam Giry in the book also mentions that he leaves very generous tips for her, and he writes letters with a very aristocratic level of education and refinement, albeit the sloppy penmanship of a child. He also might be a Far Traveler, as he traveled at least as far away as Persia in the book before returning to his homeland of France.

Skills and Abilities

Erik’s long list of talents and abilities include: -Architect -Assassin -Ventriloquist -Stage Magician and illusionist -Composer -Violinist -Singer and Vocal Coach -Linguist

A Literary Classic

Bard     Whispers: On the surface, Bard seems like the obvious choice. Erik is the Opera Ghost, the Angel of Music. He’s a singer, a composer, a violinist. Surely, he must be a bard? Yet, despite all his tricks and talents, Erik is a mortal man completely lacking in magical powers. People just think he does. So, if you want to play Erik as he actually is, Bard is not a good fit for him. However, if you want to play Erik as the magician he pretends to be, and translate him as a DnD caster, Bard would absolutely be his top contender for magical powers. Whispers Bards fuel the fears of their targets and warp their minds as well, which Erik does to many of his victims.

Rogue     Assassin: Conversely, if you want to play Erik as the mortal man he was with no more than simple tricks, Rogue is a much better choice. While in Persia, he became a favorite of the Sultana, who he entertained by murdering people in front of her. In the book, many characters die almost as soon as he appears, showcasing a master assassin’s level of stealth and surprise attack.

Stats and Proficiencies

As a Bard or Rogue, your Charisma and Dexterity need to be your top stats. Wisdom comes next, you’re pretty perceptive, and Constitution after that, you don’t want to die after a couple hits. We’ll dump Strength and Intelligence. Erik is smart, but he doesn’t display much book smarts outside of writing very proper and well-put letters, and he’s a frail thin sliver of a man, so Strength is also not a strong suit of his.

Acrobatics Animal Handling Deception Insight Intimidation Investigation Perception Performance Persuasion Sleight of Hand Stealth

Name: Erik Race: Human Background: Entertainer Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Class: Assassin Rogue (20) Base Stats: Strength: 9 (-1) Dexterity: 20 (+5) Constitution: 10 (0) Intelligence: 10 (0) Wisdom: 16 (+3) Charisma: 20 (+5) Saving Throws: Strength: -1 Dexterity: +11 Constitution: 0 Intelligence: +6 Wisdom: +9 Charisma: +5 Combat Stats: HP: 103 AC: 16 Speed: 30 Initiative: +5 Proficiency Bonus: +6 Passive Perception: 19 Dark Vision: 0 feet Proficiencies and Expertise:    Acrobatics (Entertainer)    Deception (Rogue)    Insight (Skilled)    Intimidation (Rogue)    Investigation (Skilled)    Perception (Skilled)    Performance (Entertainer)    Sleight of Hand (Rogue)    Stealth (Rogue) Skills: Acrobatics: +11                  Medicine: +3 Animal Handling: +3          Nature: 0 Arcana: 0                           Perception: +9 Athletics: -1                       Performance: +17 Deception: +17                 Persuasion: +5 History: 0                           Religion: 0 Insight: +9                         Sleight of Hand: +11 Intimidation: +17                Stealth: +17 Investigation: +6                Survival: +3

Bonus Actions:

Cunning Action: Aim, Dash, Disengage, or Hide once per turn.

Reactions:

Uncanny Dodge: Take half damage from an attack you can see.

Features:

Assassinate: Your attack has advantage on a foe who hasn’t taken a turn in combat yet. Any attack that hits a surprised creature is automatically Critical. Blindsense: You can sense the location of hidden creatures within 10 feet. By Popular Demand: You (or your ingenue trainees) can always find a place to perform, and a good performance can provide free food and boarding, provided you continue to perform exceptionally. Deathstrike: When a target is surprised by your attack, it must make a Constitution saving throw against DC 19 or take double damage from your initial attack. Elusive: Others cannot attack you with advantage while you are conscious. Evasion: On a successful DEX throw to reduce attack damage, take none. Impostor: You can pass yourself off as someone else and have advantage on Deception checks against being discovered. Infiltration Expertise: In one week for 25 gold, you can forge a new fake identity that doesn’t belong to someone else. Reliable Talent: Proficient skill checks that roll below 10 becomes 10. Skilled: Gain proficiency with three skills. Sneak Attack: Deal 10d6 extra damage to a damage roll with advantage. Stroke of Luck: Make a missed attack a hit or a failed check a 20 once per rest. Thieves’ Cant: Hide and hear covert messages in casual conversation.

It was an uncanny build, but an interesting one to examine. Again, if you want to play up his magician tricks as legitimate magic, feel free to make him a bard, but for the person he actually was, Rogue just felt more appropriate. Do you have a character you’d like to see me build? I take requests. And as always, thanks for joining me in the Character Forge, where heroes are made.

[blueoctobass]

How abouuuut Wallis, Harold, and Rylie?

Wallis is a Witch of Light.

Harold is a Rogue of Doom.

Rylie is the main protagonist and I refuse to classpect her.

Wallis is... complex is and hard to classify... I’ve seen people give him the Space aspect because of his magic but... based on the official description and other space players, it doesn’t really fit his character...

Does THIS sounds like Wallis ? Not really no

Maybe with a destructive class like Prince or Bard of Space, but it still doesn’t feel right for me.

While it would be fun to watch Wallis struggling with the frogs, I think Light better fits him.

Light represents a lot of stuff : literal light, knowledge, relevance (see Aranea), luck (see Vriska) and money (again, see the Serkets).

And that all relate back to Wallis ! He was getting a PHD but changed plans because that pursuit of knowledge wasn’t for him (that’s more fit of a Seer which is the inverse of a Witch), and he had a lucky break that made him a wealthy superstar, always in the spotlight and very relevant in a lot of domains.

Witch is a very active class, and can be incredibly powerful. They’re often rebellious and want to change things to better fit their ideals. They can manipulate and change their aspects in ways that seem to break the rules (like Feferi making the dream bubbles or Jade during Cascade).

Wallis’ magic can also be tied back to him being a Witch of Light. Like kid!Wallis said, what’s more important is presentation and that’s what Light is about ! He manipulates the truth of his magic, concealing what it actually is to use the mystery to its advantages.

He also manipulates information and relevance to hide his guard, showing that rebellious side that goes against the system. He also changed the relevance of Assistant and Random Guard name ! We only learned it after HE asked for it.

Also the invisible limbs thing ? Rule breaking, reflection, appearance... that also ties back to Witch of Light.

One more thing ! Wallis was created as your typical magician, and the archetype of the Witch is the magician :p

One last thing and I’m done I promise : Petunia is Life, Harold is Doom, Amadeus is Void and Wallis is Light ! Not only are they opposite/mirror of each other’s, but they’re also side by side on the aspect wheel which I think is neat.

It fits him really well and I could find more example if you want me to.

Now about Rylie.

Rylie is THE main protagonist and so there’s A LOT to unpack, and I don’t think I can make it fit into a box.

I see Prisma as a Lord of Light, and so it’d make sense for Rylie to also be Light bound, but....

I can also see her as Hope/Rage, as Blood or even as Heart !

As for the class.... thematically Heir or Page would fit well, but I’m not sure...

She’s too complex :/

Maybe later on I’ll have a better idea of what classpect she has but for now it’s up in the air.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #44: The Phantom of the Opera

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re starting with the Man in the Mirror, a.k.a. the Phantom of The Opera! The role of the phantom will tonight be played by a Phantom Rogue/Whispers Bard mix with some dramatic cantrips and plenty of psychic damage to keep him inside your mind.

You can check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the summary spreadsheet. Either way, enjoy the show.

Race and Background

He may be the Angel of Music, but he’s definitely not an Aasimar. I mean, probably? The DnD universe has a lot more sentient races than ours, you can get funky with it if you want; maybe a siren? But for canon’s sake, he’s clearly a Human, giving him +1 to all stats. He’s also a Hermit, but we’re going to change it up a bit from the usual. He lived alone, yes, but under and Opera House, so he’ll be proficient in Performance and Religion instead. He also might get a terrible secret of the multiverse if you want to talk to your DM about it. Why the multiverse always gives its secrets to dangerously unstable people, I don’t know. But maybe you do!

Stats

If you’re using the standard array like we are, put your highest score in Charisma; you’re a good enough singer to tutor professionals despite never being taught yourself, so that’s all raw talent. You were also able to build a concerning number of secret passages into an opera house without anyone noticing, so your Intelligence is probably pretty high as well. You’re clearly not powerfully build, but can handle yourself pretty well in a fight: all signs point to your Dexterity being next. Your Constitution and Strength are decent enough; I’d even consider them pretty high considering you’ve spent an indeterminable amount of time living in a sewer maze. Finally, dump Wisdom. The phrases “Mental Pollution” and “High Wisdom” do not go together.

Class Levels

1. Rogue 1: We’re starting off as a rogue, they get relevant proficiencies and lots of them, and you’ll need a lot to fuel all the expertise you’re getting. Specifically, you’re proficient in Dexterity and Intelligence saves and four rogue skills. Acrobatics and Stealth will help you worm your way through secret passages without getting caught. Your powers of Persuasion can convince people that you’re some kind of angel (though that might just be grooming), and when that falls through you always have Intimidation as well.

At first level, you double your proficiency in two skills thanks to your Expertise. We’ll start with your Performance and Stealth: you have the most beautiful voice in the world, and are weirdly good at creeping through old opera houses without creaking any floorboards. You can add more damage to your attacks with a Sneak Attack, and you know Thieves’ Cant, a secret language of rogues. Nobody understands what happens in operas anyway, so it’ll be easy to slip some hidden messages in.

As far as weapons go, dual-wielding daggers are probably your best bet as stand-ins for your claw hands. It will also use up your bonus action, but having a back-up attack is always useful.

2. Rogue 2: Vanishing from the scene becomes much easier with your Cunning Action, allowing you to dodge, disengage or hide as a bonus action. Disappearing in the nick of time is kind of your thing, and this will make it much easier.

3. Rogue 3: Third level rogues get a sneak attack boost as well as their archetype, and yours is the appropriately named Phantom archetype from Tasha’s Cauldron. When you take this archetype, you gain Wails from the Grave, meaning the dramatic music stings that accompany your attacks can actually do damage now. When you attack someone with your sneak attack, you can deal half your sneak attack dice in psychic damage to another creature nearby. You can use this a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per long rest. You also can hear Whispers of the Dead, giving you proficiency in one skill of your choice that you can swap out each short rest. Erik’s a multitalented man, but being proficient in every skill takes up way more ASIs than we have, so this is a happy medium.

4. Bard 1: Bard pull people under their sway with the power of music, and that’s literally your entire MO, so this is a no-brainer.  At first level, you get a free skill of your choice. Operas cover a lot of subjects, but I think History is the most consistent. Sure, it’s fictionalized history, but you’re fictional too, so it all works out.

First level bards gain Spellcasting using charisma as your casting stat, as well as some Bardic Inspiration dice, a couple D6 you can throw at people to encourage their best performances.

For spells, grab Prestidigitation and Minor Illusion for some stage magic, Charm Person and Unearthly Chorus to charm your way out of any situation, and Dissonant Whispers and Puppet to really worm your way into people’s minds.

5. Bard 2: You’re now a Jack of All Trades, adding half your proficiency to any check you’re not already proficient with. Seriously, Erik’s a stage magician, skilled architect, and a world class singer, all while being shunned by polite society. How does he do it?

You also learn a Song of Rest, letting you ease your party’s worries during short rests with your skillful performance. I’d think hearing the phantom sing would put someone even more on edge, but that’s why I’m not a dnd character.

For your spell, grab Feather Fall. It’s great for when you need to jump off a balcony to escape, or if you forget about the time limit on a late-game feature.

6. Bard 3: Being a bard also gives you some Expertise, this time enhance your Persuasion and Intimidation to perfect your “people skills”. You also graduate from the College of Whispers at this level, giving you a couple extra features as well. 

Psychic Blades lets you burn through inspiration dice to add 2d6 Psychic Damage to your attack once per round. You also learn Words of Terror, so if you talk to someone for a while you can try and make them afraid of you or someone else for up to an hour. That can be done once per short rest.

Grab Suggestion to politely remind people why they always do all you ask of them.

7. Rogue 4: Use your first ASI to increase your dexterity for more AC and more stabbage.

8. Rogue 5: Your sneak attack is boosted to 3d6, and you gain an Uncanny Dodge, letting you react to avoid half the damage from an attack. Sometimes your flair for the dramatic means escapes aren’t quite as easy as they should be. This will help you avoid dying while still being the center of attention.

9. Rogue 6: Your third round of expertise will help you remember more about the subjects of operas you’ve watched, doubling your proficiency in History and Religion. 

10. Rogue 7: Seventh level rogues get another sneak attack bonus, and they learn about Evasion, meaning dexterity based attacks deal a lot less damage to you. I don’t know exactly what kind of save a falling chandelier requires, but dexterity is a pretty safe bet.

11. Rogue 8: For your next ASI, we’re taking the Dual Wielder feat. This gives you a bit of extra AC and you can trade up for larger claws for some extra damage. If you really want to powergame though, you could switch this out for the mobile feat instead, as we’ll be getting a feature later on that makes ignoring difficult terrain very useful.

12. Rogue 9: Ninth level rogues get another sneak attack bonus, bringing you up to 5d6. Ninth level phantoms learn how to make Tokens of the Departed. You can react when a creature dies within 30′ of you to turn part of their soul into a random trinket from the trinket table. While you have at least one trinket on your person, you have advantage on death and constitution saves. You can only keep a small number on you, and can destroy a trinket to ask the dead one question. You can also destroy a trinket to use Wails from the Grave for free. Admittedly this has very little to do with being the phantom of the opera, but the advantage is really nice if you’re trying to keep someone charmed while in combat, and we’ll get a better use for the trinkets later.

13. Bard 4: Back in bardsville, you’ve got another ASI waiting for you. Boost your Charisma for more powerful spells and more uses of your Psychic Blades and inspiration.

For spells, pick up Vicious Mockery for even more psychic damage, and Blindness/Deafness to make tracking you down even harder via a quick blast of organ playing.

14. Bard 5: With our last level in bard, your inspiration dice increase to a d8, and your psychic blades now add 3d6 damage to attacks. You also become a Font of Inspiration, regaining inspiration uses on short rests rather than long ones.

For your last spell, grab Fear. This hardly should even count as magic for you, you just have that kind of effect on people.

15. Rogue 10: Switching back to rogue, you get one more ASI, which we’re putting into Dexterity. You hit harder and are harder to hit, what’s not to love?

16. Rogue 11: Your sneak attack goes up again, and you now have Reliable Talent. This means any skill check you make that you’re proficient in will always have a roll of at least 10. Basically, whatever you’re good at, you’re really good. And you’re good at whatever you need to be, which is great for you.

17. Rogue 12: With your last ASI, we’re maxing your Charisma. Maximizing dexterity would be nice, but we only have so much space and the extra inspiration is too useful to pass up. Don’t worry though, we’ll get something to guarantee our attacks hit in two levels.

18. Rogue 13: You know the drill: sneak attack goes up to 7d6, and you get your last Phantom ability. Ghost Walk lets you turn into, let’s say a “specter”, for ten minutes as a bonus action. You gain 10′ of flying speed and can hover in midair, attacks against you are made with disadvantage, and you can move through objects as difficult terrain. If you stay inside an object at the end of your turn though, you take 1d10 force damage. Honestly though, that’s a lot less damage than anything else that’s happening at 18th level. Why would you stay outside? There’s fighters out there. You can use this feature once per long rest, or by burning a soul trinket for this feature. I know that all the ghostly things you do in the musical are thanks to secret passages in your opera house, but most adventures don’t take place in your opera house. This is a good way to still dramatically pop out of mirrors without needing several years of prep time and a zoning permit.

One important thing to note: There’s no rules regarding what happens if you become tangible inside a wall, so try not to find out.

19. Rogue 14: You now gain a Blindsense, making you aware of hidden creatures within 10′ of you as long as you can hear. This combined with Ghost Walk means you’re now the master of the ambush. Why bother being in a fight when you can just stick your hands out of the floorboards and remove someone’s ankles? This gives you advantage on your attack because your opponent can’t see you, and makes you immune to any counterattacks unless they feel like tearing up the entire dungeon around them.

20. Rogue 15: With your capstone level, your sneak attack becomes an extra 8d6, and your fraying sanity becomes so obtuse it goes right back around to being good. Your Slippery Mind gives you proficiency in wisdom saves, making you harder to charm and fool with illusions.

Pros: A majority of your saves are pretty good, with only strength really being a weakness thanks to your features covering your constitution and wisdom saves. The only thing with a wider range than your save proficiencies is your skill proficiencies: anything you’re good at, you’re really good at. Anything you’re not good at, you’re still pretty good at. And Whispers of the Grave can even give you tool proficiencies. Your party needs a boat captain? You’ve watched Riders to the Sea once, it’ll probably be fine. Finally, specializing in one type of damage is usually a bad idea. Unless it’s psychic damage, in which case it’s generally a great idea. Very few creatures resist or are immune to it, and it’s pretty easy to argue that it’s magical damage.

Cons: Outside of Wails from the Grave and one or two bard spells, you don’t have many ranged attacks. Also, the psychic damage effects from your Psychic Blades are a significant part of your damage early on, and they eat into your inspiration stores very quickly until you get Font of Inspiration. Finally, we weren’t able to pick up War Caster in this build, so trying to dual wield your claws and cast spells at the same time might be a bit cumbersome, depending on your DM.

Next up: ...Sorry, I got distracted. What were we talking about?

[starrlikesbooks]

It’s April and I’m still stuck in my house... Good thing it’s new book time! 💐

Chosen Ones by Veronica Roth is Roth’s first adult book. Divergent is one of those books that has stayed with me years past reading, and I loved the Carve the Mark duology, so I’m really excited just for more Roth in general. But this book also hits one of my great loves- heros past their “story” or prime. Yup, this is about a group of people who saved the world as teenagers, and it picks up10 years later. Seems like it’s going to be a really cool political book, and a great book about generational differences and the forgotten obstacles of the past.

Conjure Women by Afia Atakora is historical fantasy taking place in the south, right after the Civil War. Usually I avoid historical books as well as books that are about slavery, but this one seems really special. The idea of magic and curses in the bloodline of a former slave family is really, really interesting to me.

The Glass Magician by Caroline Stevermer is actually another historical fantasy. But this one is about New York high society and magical classes, following a stage magician. Also, the cover has teeth on it, so that sways me enough to want to read it.

Godshot by Chelsea Bieker is about environmental disasters and cults, both of which feel super relevant to this moment. Also, somewhere in the synopsis there’s taxidermy mice, so what more do you need, right? Oh there’s also a quest to find her mother, female empowerment, and secrets.

Mad, Bad & Dangerous to Know by Samira Ahmed combines the life of a modern day Muslim girl and one from the 19th Century. I’m really excited for this book, because I haven’t seen that much Muslim rep in YA and especially haven’t seen any Muslim rep that shows their existence past modern days without turning it into a “magical, exotic” trope.

Elysium Girls by Kate Pentecost is yet another book in the “fantasy racing” sub-genre, and I’m not mad about it, even a little. This one is inspired by the Dust Bowl, and involves a girl gang of witches and horses made out of scrap metal. Add in literal Life vs Death judgement and the fact that it’s tagged LGBT and I’m telling you, I’m going crazy about this book.

Girls Save the World in This One by Ash Parsons not only has a bright, fun cover, but seems like a zombie story that’s not just run of the mill. It’s an all female cast about 3 fangirls heading to the con of their dreams, which, thanks to real life zombies, becomes, well, the con of their nightmares. This is also marketed as “Shaun of the Dead meets Clueless” so, uh, yeah, mark that down on your tbr.

Deck of Omens by Christine Lynn Herman is the sequel to The Devouring Gray, a novel while, not super unique, did leave me wanting more. I may or may not have adopted one or two of those characters mentally already. Also, I love this cover!

Goldilocks by Laura Lam is another environmental disaster book, but this one is in space! And it’s a mystery! Honestly, I love space, and I love any media that takes place on a space ship and isn’t a space opera (sorry space opera fans). This one stars an all female astronaut crew.... who went rogue after their mission is taken from them. Stealing a spaceship is bad enough, even if it is humanity’s last chance for survival, but when things start malfunctioning, it seems things are about to get a whole lot worse.

[seat-safety-switch]

They say you can never really become a master until you’ve avenged the death of your mentor. Since time immemorial, teary-eyed apprentices have been left behind by chuckling Big Bads after watching their gruff-yet-beloved supervisor get cut down. The tragedy-training-revenge cycle has never been supplanted as the superior way to prepare students for the real world, but it’s a little bit impractical nowadays. I’m here to tell you that your high school physics teacher didn’t actually die.

That’s right. Even though his noble sacrifice at the end of the school year emboldened the ragtag group of rogues and freaks that made up your senior class to study so much harder for the final exam, he actually just used stage magic and fake blood. He’s doing the same shit to this year’s senior class, or at least he would be if he could figure out Zoom. The reason is that it’s simply not profitable enough for the school board to keep wiping out people with twenty-plus years of experience, nor are there enough black magicians named Zio wandering the Earth anymore due to globalization reducing the demand for expensive domestic magicians of all kinds.

Although you may feel betrayed by this fiction, don’t be. Mister Jones really just wanted you to do well on your test. And to an equal or possibly greater extent, the administration of the school wanted him to raise the average test score of all students, so that the feds would maintain the current level of funding. After all, it’s not cheap to keep the archery class in new bows, or replacing the steeds every year whenever someone in the junior-varsity jousting program finds a new place the armour doesn’t adequately protect them.

[spaceskam]

I Put A Spell On You (a magical au)

Summary: People are going missing and Michael decides this is his problem to solve.

she’s here! long and finished! special thanks to @lire-casander who read a completely out of context scene for this becuase I was having doubts. Hope you all enjoy!

ao3

“What’s wrong?”

Liz Ortecho sniffled and looked up to Michael with eyes that screamed ‘why, are you going to explode?’, but she didn’t say it out loud because Liz Ortecho was nice. She was the only one aside from Isobel who didn’t treat him like a toddler playing with a gun instead of a ball.

“It’s my sister,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. Michael looked over to Isobel who was nose deep in a book on German Spells because ‘you never know when you’ll need it’. He sat down in front of Liz. “She… she always reaches out to me every single day, but it’s been three days and I think something bad happened.”

“Like what?” Michael asked. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t go looking for trouble. What was the point of being the Chosen One if you didn’t help everyone you could? Yeah, he was a shitty Chosen One when it came to controlling his magic or casting spells or not accidentally murdering fantastical creatures that sneak up on him, but he could fight and Isobel was super clever with her magic. Together they could solve any problem. 

Even this super vague one involving Liz Ortecho’s sister.

“I don’t know,” she said, “She’s just gone. It’s like… It’s like she vanished.”

Michael couldn’t help himself as he spent the rest of the day thinking about it. A magician was missing. That felt like Chosen One business. A magician doesn’t just go missing, just like a magician doesn’t just give up their children. Michael wasn’t an anomaly and he didn’t think Rosa Ortecho was either.

“Are you sick? I’ve never seen you eat less than two plates of food,” Isobel said, destroying his train of thought, “Please tell me you’re not thinking of Alex again, you really need to stop being scared of him.” He looked up to her with inquisitive eyes and ignoring her statement.

“Have you ever heard of a magician just, like, disappearing?” he asked. Isobel narrowed her eyes at him.

“What did you do?”

Michael rolled his eyes dramatically. “I did nothing, but I was talking to Liz and apparently her sister is missing. That’s weird, right? Have you ever heard of a magician going missing?”

Isobel shrugged, deciding not to mention that he’d said he spoke to Liz Ortecho. Her twin, Max,  had been obsessed with her since she first graced the campus and she’d never given him the time of day. That gave her a healthy distaste of the girl, though Micahel was sure it had more to do with the fact Max turned into an idiot when she was around.

“I’m sure there’s more, but the only one I can think of off the top of my head is Noya Manes because that was, like, huge mage news when it happened.”

“Like ex-headmaster Noya Manes?”

“The one and only.”

Michael furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t know that she disappeared. It wasn’t really spoken about. It probably didn’t help that he had only joined the World of Mages, like, a few years prior. He didn’t know much about the history of anything. He didn’t really pay attention in history class either.

“Okay, so a headmaster and a random young mage go missing a million years apart. Cool,” Michael sighed.

He wanted to help, he really did. He hadn’t done anything helpful in over 8 months and it was starting to weigh on him. Even then, that event had pissed a couple of people off. They were having class outside and a giant cerberus had made its way onto the grounds and was snarling with all teeth bared. A few other people did their best to send spells to make it run away, but it didn’t work.

So Michael blew it up.

Most people were at least semi-thankful he stopped it from tearing them apart, but a handful of people were very upset that he killed it and Alex Manes had made a point to tell him he was an idiot. Still, he got praise for it from The Mage which felt like a win.

Now he needed to do something REALLY good. He needed to solve a mystery and save the girl and figure everything out. He needed to know everything.

-

Alex rolled his eyes when he entered his room to find Guerin surrounded in papers and looking more intense than he should be.

“Are you actually studying for once?” Alex said, eyeing the curly-headed boy he’d been forced to share a room with for the last seven years. He didn’t think he would ever be able to overcome to grief his father gave him when he found out as if it was his fault that the crucible paired him with the defective Chosen One.

When Guerin ignored him, he just went into the bathroom.

Alex had fuzzy memories of his childhood, mostly of his father insisting that he didn’t turn into a shit mage. He’d gone on and on for longer than Alex could remember about how he and his mother only planned on one child, one child to dedicate all their magic into.

And then they had Alex instead.

He wasn’t spectacular as a child, he wasn’t like Guerin. He didn’t have natural, raw magic that seeped out of his skin like sweat. His was trained and honed and he was good. He was never the most powerful naturally, but he practiced like no other and that made him a force to be reckoned with. You’d think his father would be proud.

“I should’ve become The Mage after your mother,” his father would say, almost as if he was giving some big villain monologue at the end of a season of Buffy, “But, instead, Jim swept it out from under me. The Manes are meant for that, not Jim fucking Valenti.”

Jim fucking Valenti was actually nice, though. Alex had to give him that. He was nice in a way that he tried his best and did what he thought was good for the coven. For example, when a Normal suddenly burst full of magic 7 years ago, The Mage happily took him in as his heir and gifted him a magical heirloom in the form of his necklace.

Which was really nice of him if you didn’t talk about the part where he had a son of his own that was the same age and was gifted a shitty, store-bought wand.

Kyle‒The Mage’s actual son‒wasn’t bad. He didn’t seem to hold much jealousy of Guerin‒the Normal with magic‒even though he had every right to. It helped that Kyle didn’t really have an interest in magic in the first place. It was almost pathetic, but it made him easier to be around. He was the only person who didn’t seem to view Guerin as some sort of God.

The prophecy had stated that a mage with unparalleled power would come and be the savior of the magical word. It was vague as all hell and the fact that everyone so willingly accepted that it was Guerin felt suspicious. Alex could count a million reasons on how Guerin was so unremarkable and obviously a Normal. However, he couldn’t deny the power he radiated. That was definitely unparalleled and that had to be why people were accepting of it.

Sleeping hardly four feet away from a boy who felt like an atom bomb of magic for seven years had been… interesting to say the least. He was always buzzing if not glowing. Everything he was was under the surface of his skin, burning to get out and almost becoming unbearable to be around for any mage too sensitive to the feeling of magic. Alex had seen teachers request he be moved out of their class because the simple presence of him was too much. As annoying as Guerin was, Alex didn’t think he could ever understand that.

Feeling Guerin’s power felt like a privilege that he couldn’t get enough of.

Alex stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, fully dressed in his sleep clothes to see Guerin dead asleep. He was still surrounded in those papers, one of which was smashed against his cheek and the bed. His curls spilled over and reached over the edge of the bed in an annoyingly natural fashion. His lips were slightly parted and, for a moment, he looked peaceful. The boy never looked peaceful when he was awake because he always had this need to fulfill his duty by getting into shit he shouldn’t. Like that time Alex lured him into the woods and then Guerin “saved” him from a chimera whenever it was supposed to be attacking Guerin. He could be so spectacularly stupid sometimes.

Hating Guerin was easy. He was dense on the best of days and horrifically positive about everything. He weaseled his way into every situation under the sun and felt pride when all he could do was destroy everything in his wake. He would follow people if he had a “feeling” and he and his little lackey Isobel Evans would find themselves in genuinely horrible situations. Last year, they got kidnapped by a crew of rogue werecoyotes‒Alex still wasn’t sure how they got free. He was infuriating and instigating and powerful beyond belief. Yes, hating him was easy.

But trying not to be hopelessly in love with him was a burden Alex was still trying to fight.

-

Michael crossed the bridge out of Watford with ease.

There was a bar not too far outside of Watford that had its doors open for any magical creature that was willing to place nice. Michael liked it there better than any other place in the world. He was an oddity, but no one there treated him like that because they were too. He’d met vampires and werewolves and sea monsters with legs. He’d met people who were hundreds of years old and others who were surprisingly young for how they looked. He loved it there.

The owner of the bar was easily one of the most powerful mages he’d ever met‒Mimi DeLuca. She was the one who made it easier for him to get over the bridge in the first place. He always asked her why she chose to run a bar instead of being on the political side of the world and she said she didn’t care for it. She didn’t care for Watford and she didn’t care for the judgment that came with the title of being a magician. She just wanted to be. Michael envied that.

“Well if it isn’t Michael Guerin. Haven’t seen you in a while,” Maria, Mimi’s daughter, said when he walked through the doors. She was pretty and kind and Michael had tried so, so hard to figure out how to tell her that. He was bad at it. He was bad at a lot of things. Mimi and Maria were the only ones who didn’t seem to mind.

“I know, I’ve been busy,” he said, leaning onto the counter. She smiled at him that pretty smile and got him a drink that he was technically too young to have. Maria was a year older than him but had never actually gone to Watford. Mimi had said she never even considered sending her, but Maria had told him that she wouldn’t have been let in and so it saved her the heartache. Apparently, Maria’s father was a Normal and so, in the eyes of a lot of mages, so was she.

Michael knew that was bullshit. With the snap of her fingers, his drink poured itself. She was powerful as hell.

“Is your mom around?” he asked, still smiling at her. Maria gave him that look that she gave him often. He felt that urge to tell her she was pretty again, to reach across the counter and kiss her. He’d only kissed one person in his life and it was pretty unspectacular. Maria felt like she could be spectacular.

“Always looking for my mom and not me,” she said. Michael leaned a bit closer.

“I could look for you,” he said, “If you wanted.”

“Now I would know that hair anywhere.” Michael immediately looked towards the voice and saw Mimi walking towards him with open arms. He fell into them easily. She was his favorite person in the world aside from Isobel. She always hugged him like it was the best part of the day. It was for him.

“Hi,” he said dumbly, not letting go of the hug until a few seconds after she did. She grabbed his face in her hands and he couldn’t help but smile up at her.

“Now, why didn’t you stay around here for the summer? I told you that you’re always welcome and you didn’t even stop by for months! I haven’t seen you since June! That’s four months too long,” she doted, pushing back his hair.

“I stayed with the Evans’ for a little while,” he lied. The Mage had this policy where he wanted him to go back to group homes during the summer, saying he didn’t want him to lose his connection to the normal world. That was what made him the Chosen One. He’d gotten more than a little irritated when he found out that he’d stayed with the DeLuca’s a few summers prior. “I had a question for you, s’why I came.”

“Mm, can’t even come for the luxury of our company,” Maria teased. Mimi squeezed his cheeks between her hands lightly before letting him go and sitting beside him.

“What’s the question, love?” Mimi smiled, stealing the drink Maria had made for him.

“So, I’ve been doing some research for a project,” he said, “About Noya Manes. I can’t figure out why she could’ve possibly gone missing. I didn’t know mages could go missing. I figured you’d be the best person to ask if there was anyone else.”

Mimi went silent as she stared at him. Then she looked around the bar and then gestured for him to follow her into the back. Maria stayed to man the bar.

“What exactly did you find out?” Mimi asked him hesitantly as they slipped into the backroom. Michael shrugged, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to hear what she knew.

“Nothing much,” he said, “Just that Noya Manes disappeared on October 31st twelve years ago. And, you remember Rosa Ortecho? She went missing October 13th this year. And I was doing research and I found a couple of other people that went missing through the years, but there was nothing done about it. I figured you would know more about anyone that might’ve gone missing.” Mimi watched him with nervous eyes.

“Michael, is this for a project or are you trying to be the hero again?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “I know you think you need to search for trouble because you’re the Chosen One, but I really wish you would stop running into things. It makes me so nervous.”

“But what if this is my thing? I’m supposed to, like, save the World of Mages. What if this is it? I mean, all these mages have been going missing for years. It has to mean something,” he said. She sighed and stared at him a little bit longer.

“Is Isobel working on this with you?” Mimi accused. Michael shook his head. Because she wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. He was trying to find all the evidence he could before bringing it to Isobel and then she would just kinda piece it all together because she did that really well. “Listen, Michael, I think this is something you should keep your distance from.”

“Why?” he prodded, “What do you know?”

Her face was grim and she looked around again, like she thought someone might listen. She leaned close.

“I know at least two magicians go missing every October. They’re always powerful, powerful people,” she explained, that fearful look in her eyes again. “You need to stay away from looking into this. You don’t need to draw attention to yourself.”

“I mean, how much more attention could I possibly bring to myself?” Michael asked, “I’m already the Chosen One. If they’re gonna come after me, I might as well be prepared, right?”

Mimi stared at him for a long time before she held up a finger and went to rummage in the closet. He furrowed his eyebrows but stayed put as she’d said. The DeLuca’s were incredibly quirky and after years and years of being around them, he decided to stop questioning them.

She returned with a sword that, despite being shoved in the back of a closet, still seemed to glisten with pride.

“This is The Sword of Mages,” she said and his eyes widened. He’d heard of it before, something that had been allegedly lost to time within one of the old families. Yet, here it was in the closet of what was decidedly not an old family.

“How do you have this?” he asked, holding his hands out flat and being careful as she handed it to him.

“I stole it,” she admitted and a smile found his lips, “When I was your age, Jesse Manes told me I could never be as powerful as he was because I was a girl. So I stole this sword from his grandfather. Not sure he even knew it was there, but I did and that’s all that matters.”

Michael checked that it was okay with her before he ran his fingers over the blade. It hummed with his touch, almost like it was meant just for his touch. He looked back up at Mimi with wide eyes. She smiled wearily.

“This sword fits right into your side if it’s for you‒it appears into your hand whenever you need it,” Mimi said, “If you’re going to be chasing down some power-hungry monster, I want to know that I did my best to make sure you can protect yourself.

“But, Mimi, I‒”

“Go on, see if it fits,” she urged. Michael tried not to smile too big just in case and thought about it molding into him.

It did.

She smiled again, though it seemed to be disguising a whole bunch of fear and worry. He tried not to seem too excited. It fit. The Sword of Mages was his to have.

Not even a Manes could claim that.

-

The pile of papers on Guerin’s bed was becoming unbearable.

Alex had never allowed himself to believe that Guerin would ever be genuinely tidy, but this was becoming even worse than it had in the last few years. He’d genuinely considered casting a spell to clean it up and then thought about a spell to just make it be thrown away so it couldn’t get like that again. Instead, he settled on just picking up the papers off the floor so they wouldn’t get wet shoe-prints on them due to it being spectacularly rainy and knowing Guerin couldn’t pull off a spell to dry himself.

He was being nice today.

All the papers seemed to be neatly torn from books or were nicely cut from articles in newspapers. They were of all sorts of people‒people that Alex had never fucking heard of. He didn’t even think they were magicians and, if they were, they weren’t important enough to be spoken about in the magical world.

Well, most of them.

He landed on one paper that had almost been tucked beneath Guerin’s bed that seemed to be the only one from a mage’s newsletter. The only reason he knew that was because it had a picture of his mother on it, cradling him as a baby. There was another, bigger picture that was just of his mother, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the one with him in it. He’d never seen it before. Granted, his father had taken it upon himself to rid their house of his mother’s presence, but…

The article was about her disappearance.

It was about how she brought her son, James Alexander Tiberius Manes, to the nursery at Watford on Halloween, went into her office, and then never came back out. They’d searched the entire room and the halls and the windows and everything, but there was no sign of anything. She’d just disappeared.

Alex was overcome with sadness as he stared at the picture. He didn’t really remember her very well. He was four when she went missing and that didn’t leave much room for his memory. The few times his father had spoken about her, it’d been mainly about how she was ill and he should’ve known he was marrying into a flight risk. She was powerful and smart, but she didn’t care about her family. But, looking at the picture, she seemed to care about him. She was smiling at him in a way his dad never had. She looked like she loved him. He wondered if she would’ve been nicer than he was. She was certainly prettier.

She had long, dark hair that was slicked back into a low ponytail in both pictures. Her skin was darker than his own, though he seemed to be darker when he was a baby than he was now. He had her nose and her eyes. That irrefutable longing seeped into his veins again as he thought about her. He missed her dearly, even if he hardly remembered her in the first place. He loved her more than life itself. He had to.

However, he was then rudely thrown back to the realization that Michael fucking Guerin had an article of her on his floor.

Alex tried to keep his cool as he used a fine-tooth comb for his mother’s name in all of Guerin’s bullshit. Tons and tons of results came to him, the most damning being a notebook that had a page where literally the only thing written on it was his mother’s name, date of disappearance, and, in parentheses, Alex’s mom.

Alex sat for a moment and tried to calm down.

There had to be a rational explanation for this. Guerin had been pouring over these papers for over a week now and it seemed to be important. Of course, Guerin seemed to think everything he did was important. And, besides that, he shouldn’t have been looking into Alex’s mother. That wasn’t his business. Nothing was his business.

He had two options. He could go find him now or he could wait until Guerin got back. Logically, he knew he should wait. The threat of the anathema would help him keep his hands to himself. Possibly. He wanted to murder someone. Well, not someone, Guerin.

Another hour or two passed before Guerin returned and it left far too much time for Alex to create wild ideas for why Guerin had so much about his mother. Hell, he went through all of the papers he had. It was tons about missing persons, all in October, all for seemingly no reason.

Guerin opened the door and immediately froze when he saw Alex waiting for him like an angry father.

“You have about fifteen seconds to explain why you are researching my mother before I strangle you,” Alex demanded. Guerin just stared at him.

He did this thing when he was trying to think up an idea where he’d just stare all wide-eyed and beautiful. His curls would hang towards his eyes and his cheeks would turn all red. Alex hated it. Part of him wanted to kill him and the other wanted to kiss him senseless. Not that either of those would go well.

Alex stalked towards him, ready to threaten him with a little more animosity when a sword appeared out of nowhere and was pointed at his chest. Alex immediately jumped back, glaring at the boy who looked almost feral as he held a sword towards Alex.

“Are you stupid?! Are you trying to get thrown out of Watford?” The anathema was simple. You hurt your roommate, you get physically thrown out of the room and banned from the school. Simple as that.

Alex hadn’t actually heard of anyone breaking it since he was there, but he wouldn’t put it past Guerin to be the first.

“You said you were going to kill me!” Guerin defended, lowering the sword but still not putting it back where it came from. Wherever it came from.

Alex took a slow breath, doing his best not to fucking lose it. “It’s called a veiled threat, you idiot.”

“You’ve tried to kill me before, how was I supposed to know?!” Guerin whined. Alex pinched the bridge of his nose.

He’d never tried to kill him before. Hurt him? Yes, but never kill. Had that been a side effect, though, he wouldn’t have been too angry about it. He hated the way he felt towards the Chosen One. If he was gone, then it’d make things easier.

Not that that had any significance now.

“Just tell me why you’re researching my mother,” he demanded, “And put that sword away.”

“I know how to use it,” Guerin threatened still. Alex rolled his eyes, though he knew it was true. After a few too many times of him getting into shitty circumstances, The Mage had taught him a few different ways to fight. Alex still could picture how sweaty he’d get and how his shirt would stick to his skin and how fantastic he looked while swinging around the sword he kept beneath his bed.

Those were good days.

“Will you stop being a child?” Alex sighed, hoping to push away the stupid thoughts. “Tell me.”

The sword melded into Guerin’s side and was gone as quickly as it had appeared. The act was shocking, but Alex didn’t allow himself to show his shock. Like he’d grant him that.

Guerin was quiet for a moment longer and Alex considered just killing him right then anyways. It was irritating. His question was simple and yet he was still being denied an answer.

“Guerin, I swear to‒”

“Alright!” Guerin said, taking a big breath, “I think there’s a massive conspiracy happening and everyone is too scared to do anything about it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen!” Guerin said, moving fast to grab all the papers, “All these people are mages that have gone missing over the last twelve years! It all started with your mother, but every October after that, at least two have gone missing. And they’re all-powerful, so I think someone may have found a way to steal power or something and they’re just using them. Or, or something. I don’t know. I haven’t gotten past the research part of just trying to put them all in order. I want to get a comprehensive list of every single one, you know?”

Guerin kept rambling, speaking as if they were friends for some reason. Alex could barely wrap his head around everything.

“Wait, stop,” he said, holding out his hand, “You think my mother was kidnapped?”

For years, Alex had been told his mother had just ran away. There was no sign of foul play. She had made sure he was somewhere safe and everything before she went. It didn’t make sense.

“Yes!” Guerin exclaimed, throwing his arms out and he looked excited about this revelation. Any other moment, Alex might’ve acknowledged how cute he looked. Today, he just glared.

“You are sick.”

“No, listen,” Guerin said, stepping closer. He smelled of sage and mint, courtesy of Watford provided soap and toothpaste. He exuded power. Alex felt like he was standing in front of a bonfire. “As soon as I can put all the pieces together, I’m gonna find your mother.”

“You?” Alex scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe, just maybe, Guerin could do it. As reckless as he was, he was usually successful. He always did what he set out to do. “Alone?”

“Yes,” he said, “Well, and Isobel.”

“Why do you even think my mother is involved in this? Why do you think she’s still alive? Why do you think any of this?” Alex demanded.

“She fits the pattern and I think she was just the beginning. I’m not saying she’s still alive or anything, Alex, I’m just saying I don’t think she left you because she wanted to,” Guerin said. Alex wondered if he knew how much his words felt like a punch in the face. “Don’t you want to know for sure? Don’t you want to find out if something bad happened? And, if it did, don’t you want to make them pay?”

“If you’re right,” Alex said, stepping into Guerin’s space to seem threatening. It only seemed to backfire though as it just filled Alex’s mind with inappropriate thoughts. “Why would I leave that to you to solve?”

Guerin’s eyes seemed to widen in realization. “You wanna help?”

Alex thought about saying no, but he realized that’s actually what he wanted to do. If someone had taken his mother, he wanted to be the one to get justice. He didn’t want Guerin to be the one to do that. This was his battle to fight.

“Yes.”

“How do I know you won’t kill me?” Guerin asked. Alex rolled his eyes and held out his hand.

“Truce, for the time being. I’ll be civil if you help me figure out what happened to my mother,” he said, “Because if there’s even a chance that you’re right, then I’m not going to stop you. But you can’t pull swords on me either.”

Guerin hesitantly grabbed his hand and shook. Neither of them let go as they stared at each other for a moment.

Alex could feel his body filling up with dread.

“Truce.”

-

Michael was extremely distracted as he made his way towards The Mage’s office.

He couldn’t get over the fact that he had a truce with Alex Manes. It felt weird or like a trick. He’d spent nearly seven years a few feet away from a boy who hated his guts and now they were working together. Michael was waiting for the moment Alex turned on him, even though that really wouldn’t benefit him at all. They were looking for his mother‒ he wouldn’t betray him while doing that.

Right?

Michael had always had a sneaking suspicion that Alex wanted him dead, but that was confirmed last year when he pushed him down the stairs. Well, technically he punched him in the face after Michael had accused him of stealing his necklace and they just so happened to be by the stairs‒but he still sent him down a flight of stairs. It was confirmation enough.

But now they were working together. What could possibly go wrong?

“Sir?” Michael called as he knocked on the door. This was his last stop before he bundled up his information and brought it to Isobel for her to work her magic on. Well, not literally. Or, actually, possibly literally.

When he stepped inside, he saw not one but two men in the office. The Mage was sitting behind his desk with that ever-present grim look on his face and, across from him, sat a man Michael recognized as Jesse Manes. He looked mean. He always did.

The two of them had gone to Michael together after his magical outburst when he was 10. They’d apparently done a lot of research into the Chosen One together and, when they felt him, they knew it was him. Mr. Manes always kept his distance, though, and treated him more as a science experiment than anything else. It wasn’t much of a secret that he hated him, hated his power.

Michael had asked The Mage why he disliked him so much when he was young and he’d gotten a story of how Jesse Manes had always desired of being the creator of the Chosen One if not the Chosen One himself. He was simply jealous that someone else had the pleasure of being that. That seemed like a good enough explanation.

“Yes, Michael?” The Mage asked. Michael looked between the two men and thought about the risks of asking this question in front of Jesse Manes. As mean as he looked, he never really felt like a threat.

“I need to ask you a really important question,” Michael said. If The Mage felt it was okay to say something super important in front of Jesse Manes, then he assumed it was. So, when The Mage nodded, he took that as a sign of ‘all clear’. “Did you know that Rosa Ortecho went missing?”

Both men seemed suddenly interested in what he had to say.

“What do you mean, missing?”

“I mean she disappeared. Just vanished,” Michael said, “Do you know what might’ve happened?”

The Mage slowly stood. He wore regular slacks and a button-up shirt rather than the classic Headmaster robe that everyone before him wore. It made him both more and less relatable.

“Is this your not-so-subtle way of trying to tell me that you’re going digging in something out of your depth?” The Mage asked, “What did I tell you about digging?”

“No,” he promised even though it was a lie, “Just… Liz was sad and I was wondering if you had any information.”

The two men shared a look.

“You have a crush on the Ortecho girl?” Mr. Manes asked. Michael blinked his confusion. Then oh and perfect.

He smiled as shyly as he could manage. “I just don’t like seeing her all sad, you know?”

“Rosa Ortecho was a troubled girl,” The Mage said, “I’m sure she just ran away. I wouldn’t worry too badly about it.”

Michael looked between them. They seemed honest enough, so he nodded. So much for getting any information from him. Of all people, you’d think The Mage would’ve noticed the string of mages going missing. Then again, he probably is distracted by a million other things.

“Okay, thanks,” he said.

“Michael,” The Mage called before he could leave, “Don’t go digging, okay? Just focus on school. This is your last year.”

Michael nodded, but he had no intention to listen.

-

“I need to talk to you about a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A very important thing.”

Michael ignored the look on her face as he stole a few fries off her plate. He wanted to give her the rundown of information while they were eating alone so that, whenever she came to the room later, she didn’t have to deal with Alex being in the know too. That would be a lot.

It was already a lot between

“Well, are you going to leave me hanging or what?” Isobel asked. He smiled at her.

“So, you know how Rosa Ortecho went missing?” he started. She gave him a look.

“Michael Guerin, what are we getting into this time?”

Before he could even answer, screaming started echoing through the courtyard followed by people running away. Michael took that as his cue and his sword was quickly in his hand.

“Wha‒Michael, where did you get that from?!” Isobel demanded, tone more motherly than anything else.

Michael searched the courtyard for whatever was scaring the masses and found his answer in the form of a giant flying fucking lion. The manticore swooped and growled and landed a few yards away. Its eyes were trained on Michael, both eerily human and utterly animalistic. The scorpion-like tail whipped around and it started gearing up to pounce.

magic bubbled inside Michael, seering to the top layer of his skin and begging to be released. And it didn’t really wait for his consent. His skin was glowing and the sword did too, unintentionally becoming an extended part of his skin. He was ready for a fight.

“Back off!” he shouted and… basically, nothing happened. He felt Isobel’s thin hands grip his shoulders.

“Michael!” she seethed.

“Go away, go hide,” he told her, backing up just a little as the manticore seemed to laugh at his attempt.

“Like hell,” she scoffed, drawing her wand and pointing it over his shoulder. “Stand your ground!”

As if to mock her spell, the manticore immediately flew upwards. The wings were swinging heavy enough that it was hard to stand near, pushing them back. Michael was trying his best to think of what to do, but he was confused as to what it was trying to do. He’d never seen a manticore in real life before, they are supposed to be just creatures that hate humans as a whole so they stay away. But, here it was, at fucking Watford and doing things.

Before Michael could figure out what the best course of action was, it chose for him by sending a fucking spike from its tail that only didn’t hit them because Isobel was quick enough to deter it. Michael stared, trying to block out the screaming from his classmates while simultaneously trying not to explode it like he did that cerberus last year.

“Leave me alone!” Michael yelled and Isobel clutched him harder.

“Those aren’t magic words!”

“I’m trying my best!”

Another spike flew their way which Michael slashed in half with his sword, it landing right in front of him. He was beginning to realize he had limited options. He was going to have to hurt it.

The tail whipped close and Michael swung his sword, hardly even nicking it up it was enough to keep it from doing any harm. There was a rumor that, if you got stung by the tail of a manticore, it’d paralyze you. No one had gotten close enough in recent years to confirm or deny it. Michael wasn’t about to find out.

“Hang on,” he told Isobel and then he closed his eyes.

He let the magic in his body take over, letting it have a mind of its own other than his single desire not to die or let Isobel die. Waves of it left him with ease and, when he opened his eyes again, his sword was on fire and the manticore seemed to be recovering from a hit. Isobel was holding him tight.

“Michael…” she said softly. She was shaking which was very unlike Isobel. He looked back to her and she was staring at the flaming sword in his hands. She looked awed, but it seemed to ignite something in her and that very distinct Isobel look resonated in her eyes. “Keep fighting him off.” And then she let go.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded, “Stay behind me so I know where you are!”

Except Isobel started running, pointing her wand to every student who was still stupid enough to be outside and even the ones pressed to the windows inside. She was casting spells left and right, forcing them to turn away and to stop being reactant. Michael turned back to the creature and hoped she knew what was doing.

“Easy does it!” Michael shouted. It was one of the only spells he could remember off the top of his head and, with the support of his magic and desperation, it seemed to work for a moment. The manticore’s movement slowed just enough that he could cut down two spikes in a row without too much panic. Isobel whooped from somewhere in the field behind him and he was too scared to look back. He didn’t want to see her just chilling in the middle of the yard because that was just such an Isobel thing to do.

But then the manticore caught up to real-time again and crowded in on him.

Michael found himself pressed against a tree, his flames on his sword the only thing keeping the manticore at bay. And, even then, it seemed to be getting more and more comfortable with it. He really needed to explode this thing.

“Guerin!” he heard.

Both Michael and the manticore turned to see Alex fucking Manes legitimately walking on air. He’d seemed to come from the third story balcony that came off the “liquid magic” lab. Michael got scolded every time he entered and called things potions, so he stayed away. Alex clearly didn’t.

He looked straight up elegant. His black hair seemed to defy the point of the spell, staying perfectly straight and still as it hung to his shoulders. His face was utterly confident and, in the Watford uniform he wore, he looked damn near regal. Even the manticore had to stare.

Alex landed on the ground with a level of skill Michael could’ve never achieved. Hell, he didn’t even know the spell he’d just used. He just knew it was badass.

“Barking up the wrong tree!” Alex cast, his voice confident as ever as he stepped closer with suave movements that said “seduction” rather than “fighting for his life”.

The manticore backed away from Michael at the spell and Michael took a breath he didn’t know he was holding. However, again, that spell only lasted for a few seconds. Alex sent it a few more times. He walked closer and closer like he didn’t have a fear in the world. Michael was struggling to process the entire scene.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” Isobel cast from somewhere and Alex’s voice amplified as he walked closer. He repeated a few spells, just enough to make the manticore stumble back for a moment. However, with each hit, it seemed to resist them a little more.

Alex firmly placed himself between Michael and the manticore. It put a lot of fear in Michael. He was the Chosen One. If he died fighting a manticore that trespassed and seemed to be targeting him, that was one thing. If Alex Manes died fighting something that was targeting Michael, that was something else entirely.

“What are you doing?!” Michael yelled, “You’re going to get killed!”

Alex looked back at him, something in his eyes that was unrecognizable. Then he smiled. Well, smirked. But, still, that was more than Michael had ever seen on his face. It fit.

“Every man has to die sometime,” he said simply.

The manticore stepped closer, snarling with sharp teeth bared in all their glory only a few steps away from Alex. Anxiety pooled in Michael as he watched the tail whip around Alex and threatened to sting him. It didn’t even want Alex, it kept looking back at Michael, but it didn’t seem to have a problem taking him out in the process.

And Alex stood fearless.

And it was beautiful.

And Alex acted.

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

Micahel felt his eyes widen. Far somewhere in the other, he heard Isobel casting ’nothing to see here’ and Michael almost wanted to tell her to stop. Alex was doing something incredible.

“If turnips were watches, I’d wear one by my side. If “if’s” and “and’s” were pots and pans, There’d be no work for tinkers’ hands”

Michael tried to place the nursery rhyme in his head, but he only seemed to find awe for it. The manticore took a step back, staring at him almost in shock that he was able to do that. Able to force him back and stay that one step away. Michael couldn’t see Alex’s face, but he knew that smirk was there and he felt his stomach churn.

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

Alex began again and the manticore roared in a symphony of blaring, out-of-tune trumpets and whipped its tail too close to Alex. It hit his right leg just as Michael dove forward. Instinct won over thoughts and he grabbed Alex’s sides in the same way Isobel had been holding him. Alex’s body physically weakened by whatever the manticore had done, but Michael’s power outdid it.

“Take what you need,” he whispered. It wasn’t meant to be magic and it wasn’t even meant to be said. He just did and Alex began to glow. Just like him.

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

He started from the beginning, voice louder and power-ridden. The manticore silenced its voice, taking another step away and this time it was even more apparent. Alex recited the nursery rhyme with unmatched power and Michael focused on letting him take every ounce he needed.

It felt good. There was no straining, there was no burning, there was no explosion. It felt like sharing a hug with a person you hugged every day, like the most natural and pleasant thing in the world. A wave of relief or pleasure or release overcame him as he gave Alex whatever he needed. He could feel the adrenaline leaving his body with the fear as Alex spoke the rhyme again. He bowed his head against the back of his neck.

Michael was so lost in the feeling that he didn’t notice when the manticore fled.

“Alright,” Alex said, not angry or demanding, just a quiet notion of letting Michael know it was over.

Michael blinked back to life and drew his power back as best he could, letting go of Alex. Which immediately resulted in Alex falling to the ground.

“Whoa,” Michael said, doing his best to catch him. They both ended up just laying there in the grass, fatigued and staring at each other and trying to figure out what just happened. What the hell did they just do?

“It stung me,” Alex explained calmly, breathing slow and steady, “I can’t actually feel my leg.”

“But you were standing,” Michael said dumbly. He knew why he’d been able to stand. Michael’s power had held it off.

Alex stared at him a bit longer and it was the nicest he’d ever seen him. There was no hatred or closed-off look in his eyes. He was just laying, long hair splayed around his head, and staring openly. Michael wanted to touch him again, to see if it did the same thing again. To see if it felt like he fit.

Isobel running up to them snapped Alex’s walls into place and destroyed any chance of Michael actually trying that.

“Oh my god! You just cast a nursery rhyme!” she exclaimed, standing above them. Her hair was wild and her eyes were sparkling.

“And you just held back an entire student body,” Alex responded, “Well done, Evans.”

A smile quirked onto Michael’s face. That was the nicest he’d ever sounded. Well done, Evans.

“Me well done?! You just cast a nursery rhyme!”

-

“I am so sorry. Do you need anything? Dinner? Tea? Water?”

“I’m fine, Guerin, stop mothering me.”

“But it’s my fault!”

Alex rolled his eyes as he sat on his bed. He still couldn’t feel his leg. Or, the bottom half. Somewhere below the knee, it felt like it might as well not be there. He wasn’t really allowing himself to panic. He could still walk‒it just required a splint and a crutch. And no one knew if it was permanent or not, so it hardly even mattered until it did.

“Evans, will you shut him up? I already said I’m fine and I’m considering strangling him,” Alex said, though it wasn’t as harsh as usual. He could still feel Guerin’s magic buzzing in his body, could still feel his breath on the back of his neck, could still hear how goddamn alluring his voice was when he was offering himself to Alex as a gift.

“Is anyone going to tell me what happened out there?” Isobel demanded.

Alex looked up at her. She was standing between their beds, hands on her hips and looking like she was about ten seconds away from taking away his Xbox. For a moment he questioned how she was even in here considering there was a spell that forbade girls to enter the boys’ dorms, but he didn’t put it past her to break some shit.

“Nothing,” Alex and Guerin said simultaneously. Alex’s stomach tied in knots.

“Oh, right, that was totally nothing!” she said, “I saw what happened!”

“What’d you see?” Guerin asked and he sounded genuinely curious. Isobel turned that motherly gaze on him.

“You know.” She flopped her arms down and she quickly became a pouty child. “You did something. You made him more powerful.”

“Did I?” Guerin asked. Alex furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at him. Did he really not know or was he playing dumb? It honestly could’ve been either.

“Stop it! How did you do that?” she asked. Guerin’s shoulders slumped a little and then he shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just did,” he admitted, “I just… wanted to help so I did.”

Isobel sat beside him and Alex watched them closely.

“But that’s unheard of,“ Isobel said softly, touching his arm. Alex gulped softly. God, he wanted to do it again. He’d never felt so right in his life.

But he couldn’t do that.

"And Alex of all people!” Isobel added a whole lot less softly. Alex raised an eyebrow.

“Why did you help?” Guerin asked him, “You didn’t have to.”

Because I’d rather die for you than inevitably have to kill you myself when my father asks it of me, is what Alex didn’t say. Instead, he just found the logical part of him and tried to look irritated.

“We had a truce,” Alex said, “And you’re the only one who has even suggested that my mother didn’t abandon me and that she might be out there somewhere. I’m going to at least keep you alive for a little while.”

“Wait,” Isobel said and it suddenly dawned on Alex that she had no idea about anything, “What is happening?”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel special.

-

The next few weeks went by weirdly simple.

It didn’t make sense for Alex to mold into the little dynamic that Guerin and Isobel had created, but he did. He did it nearly seamlessly, in fact. They dug all they could into the missing persons and they had come up with little to no leads. It felt like they were at a dead end.

Except it wasn’t all that frustrating. Alex hadn’t realized that he’d never had legit friends before. It was strange, but he enjoyed it.

“Alex!” Isobel shouted from across the hall. She ran over to him with wide eyes and a warm smile. Originally, they’d been sort of cold towards each other and, still, Isobel was the first to warm up. He’d been insulted by how quickly she no longer saw him as a threat, but it only took a few days for him to take it as a compliment instead. “I was thinking about it and I think we should spend Christmas break interviewing the families of those who’ve gone missing.”

“Oh, right, and they won’t find that suspicious at all,” Alex retorted. She rolled her eyes.

“Look, we can’t figure out what they all have in common rather than them all being powerful. We don’t know what else there could possibly be to make them targets, we don’t know if the days leading up to their disappearances had anything in common, we don’t know where to look. The only thing I can think of is to ask the families and Christmas break is the only time we’ll be able to,” she explained. Alex didn’t say anything, but he knew she was right.

They made their way towards the boys’ dorm building, Alex staying silent as he listened to her talk. She never seemed to have a problem with walking with him even though he knew he walked slow. It’d been a little over a month and the feeling in his right leg had never really come back. They’d tried healing spells and they’d tried giving it time, but it didn’t come back. He’d basically accepted his future of being resigned to walking with a splint and a crutch. He was fast enough when he needed to be and he was still an amazing magician, so it didn’t matter.

Alex was okay with it. Not like he had much of a choice.

They walked into the room just as Guerin was coming out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. His hair was wet and matted to his forehead, curls already forming. He had the same habit of a young child in the fact that he never properly dried off and it left his shirt and shorts sticking to his body almost obscenely. Alex had to look away.

“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Isobel asked, flopping down on Guerin’s bed. Alex sat on his own and immediately took off the splint. He understood that it helped him walk, but it was annoying as hell.

“I don’t know,” Guerin said.

“Don’t you stay with the Valentis? I mean, The Mage made you his heir instead of his own son,” Alex said even though that was common knowledge. They both looked at him. Guerin’s expression was blank, but Isobel’s said ’shut up, we don’t talk about that’.

“Nah, I usually stay here or with the DeLucas,” he admitted, sitting at the foot of his bed.

Alex could feel his power reverberating off his skin. Guerin was a match and Alex was desperate to be the wick. He’d had it once before. He hadn’t forgotten how good that felt. He wanted it.

God, how desperate could he be?

“Why don’t you stay with the Evans?” Alex asked. Isobel again gave him that look. Not like he planned to actually listen.

Guerin smiled and Alex considered melting. Then he considered ripping the smile off his face.

“Mrs. Evans doesn’t like,” he said simply.

“No, she does like you, she doesn’t like that you make Max unable to sleep,” Isobel corrected. Alex furrowed his eyebrows. “Max is super sensitive to power and if Michael has a nightmare, Max gets overwhelmed. It’s a mess.”

“I’ve never had a problem,” Alex admitted simply. Guerin smiled again, this time for him. Alex looked away. “I more so have a problem that I have to share a room with you in the first place.”

“Rude.”

“Wait, maybe Michael could stay with you over break!” Isobel suggested. They both looked toward her and she seemed overly proud of herself.

“My dad hates him.”

“Cast a be our guest on him, it’ll be fine,” she said, waving it off. He supposed that was an option. “He’ll be difficult to access here if we find out any information. I mean, this is our biggest opportunity to search into things further. He needs to be outside of Watford.”

“No, there’s no way I’m staying with him,” Guerin said and it was so matter-of-fact that it almost felt like a punch in the face. “Truce or not, there’s no anathema to keep him from killing me at his house.”

Alex didn’t argue. If he thought he was a murderous threat, then so be it. It made things easier.

“He’s got a point,” Alex agreed.

“You both suck,” Isobel groaned, “We’re going to have to investigate on our own now.”

Alex didn’t say anything.

-

Michael hated the snow.

There was nothing more isolating than being alone on school grounds and surrounded in snow. It felt like he was trapped inside.

The more he sat there, the more he regretted not going with Alex. He knew they were both solving the mystery and he was stuck. What happened if they figured it out and got attacked? He wasn’t there. They should’ve stuck together.

To combat the horrible feeling brewing in his stomach after only two days being stuck at Watford alone, he made his way off campus and to the bar owned by the DeLucas. If anyone could keep him company and calm his worries, it’d be them.

Their research was at a spectacularly frustrating dead end. They had so many names that it seemed impossible that they would’ve all run into the same person to take them. Hell, if not for the coincidence of them all going missing during October, Micahel would’ve thought that maybe he was wrong. Maybe Rosa Ortecho and Noya Manes and a ton of other people all just ran away because magic was too much.

But that couldn’t possibly be the case. It was just fishy enough.

When he walked into the bar, it was eerily silent and the only person in there was Maria. He only knew it was her because her hair was unmistakable. Otherwise, her back was to him and nearly all the lights were off as she sat, counting money.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“Even for me?” he asked. She didn’t turn around. His heart began to thud in his chest as he put together that something was really wrong. Forget the missing persons problem, fix this. Fix her. “Maria?”

“You can stay if you don’t talk,” she said sharply.

He did as she said, sitting beside her.

Michael stared at her. She was beautiful as ever, her face wiped clean of makeup and her hair pulled back into a tiny puff of curls. She was staring down at a stack of fives and she looked almost completely out of it. Usually, when he saw her, he thought about asking her out. She had always seemed like a good happy ending. Lately, that thought hadn’t been on his mind.

Now, however, that didn’t seem to matter. Where she fit in his future didn’t matter as long as she was okay enough to be there at all.

“Maybe I can help,” he offered softly, carefully eyeing her so he didn’t push any buttons. She sniffled.

“You can’t. You can’t Chosen One your way into everything, Michael,” she said, her lips quivering until she broke and fat tears started pouring down her cheeks. He quickly put his arms around her, holding her close.

His mind was reeling. He needed to know what was wrong with her and how to fix it. He hated seeing her so upset. Then, the longer he held her, he wondered where Mimi was. She was usually the first one to know if something was wrong with Maria.

“Where’s Mimi?” he asked. Then she cried harder. His heart sped up and he could feel his magic pulsing under his skin as he began to panic. She squeezed his arm.

“Please,” she sniffled, “Please don’t go off. Please.”

“I’m trying,” he promised, closing his eyes as he focused on reeling it back in, “Just… what happened?”

“She… she didn’t come home last night,” Maria whispered, sniffling as she wiped her eyes and lifted her head off his chest. He still held onto her. “I haven’t heard from her and I don’t know what to do. It’s like she just disappeared.”

Michael’s world got impossibly small at that word. He started digging and now more people are going. It wasn’t even October. That either meant this was completely unrelated or whatever it was building up to was happening soon.

He didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Did you call The Mage?” he asked. She rolled her eyes, but nodded.

“He said not to worry, that she’d probably show up,” Maria sniffled, “But I think I’m going to go to the Normal police soon. She wouldn’t just… she wouldn’t do this to me. I know it.”

Michael sat on his thoughts for a moment. He thought about what he could do at this point. Now it was more crucial than ever. Not only was he trying to find Liz’s sister and Alex’s mom, but this was his… his Mimi. This was the closest he got to a parent ever. This was his only person.

“Are you okay to be on your own?” Michael asked, combing a few stray strands of her hair back. Maria looked at him through glassy eyes.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to save her. I promise.”

She sniffled and nodded. “I’ll be okay then.”

He gave her a kiss on the head and ran out the door. He ran and ran and ran until he got to a train station and started making his way towards the Manes Manor. He didn’t stay still the entire ride.

It didn’t occur to him until the train was almost at the station he was getting off at that he could’ve called first.

-

“Alex, a friend of yours is here.”

Alex looked up from his book to see the maid his father insisted on getting when his mother was alive. Julie was a short and thin woman with four children of her own and she still found time to dote on Alex more than his father did. In fact, once it became a known fact that he was queer, she baked him a cake.

“Friend?” Alex echoed. Kyle wasn’t due to come over until Christmas day and there’s no way either of the Evans twins would come all the way to his house. That didn’t actually leave anyone else. “Who?”

“I’m not sure,” Julie responded, though the telling smile on her lips told him it must be someone important, “He’s just wearing one of your school uniforms.”

“Okay,” he agreed and, with the help from his crutch, stood to his feet.

The walk to the front door seemed to drag on longer than it should’ve and it had everything to do with the ambiguous identity of the person at his door. When he got there, he realized he shouldn’t have been confused at all.

Guerin stood there on the mat, clothes and hair stuck to him with muddy snow. He looked not too unlike a wet rat. Alex wanted to stab himself when he realized that, even like this, all disgusting and wide-eyed, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to dry him off and he wanted to strip him bare. None of those were options, so he sighed.

“Look what the cat dragged in, I suppose,” he noted, fishing for his wand. He pointed it at Guerin’s, well, everything and cast a simple clean as a whistle. He knew Guerin wouldn’t‒couldn’t‒do one on himself.

“Thanks,” Guerin said, looking around before settling his eyes on Alex himself, “Mimi DeLuca is missing. Whatever’s happening‒it’s getting worse. I think it’s happening soon. I can feel it.”

Alex sighed again and, this time, it was a little sadder than he anticipated. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted this search to continue. He liked hanging around with Guerin and Isobel. He wasn’t really looking forward to when they solved the puzzle and the truce was over and he was legally resigned to hating them both again.

“Come in,” he said moving out of the way so Guerin knew he was welcome. He rubbed his nose with the sleeve of his jacket and Alex even found that endearing.

Maybe it was a good thing that this quest was almost over.

-

“Will you stop fidgeting?”

Michael grunted in response as he tried to find a comfortable way to sit in the clothes he’d borrowed from Alex. They had all been tailored to fit him, so they didn’t quite fit. The shoulders were tight and the legs were too long and he felt like he was cosplaying as a member of One Direction with the fucking blazer.

“These pants are itchy.”

“Merlin help me,” Alex sighed. He, on the other hand, looked fantastic in non-Watford clothing. They fit him so perfectly and were snug in all the right places. He looked like he existed with a purpose. Michael look like he stole from him. “Listen, when we get to the Ortechos, you can’t be fidgeting like that. They’re going to think you’re on drugs or something.”

“I’m trying!” Michael whined. Alex just smirked and pressed on the gas pedal of his sleek car.

The night prior had gone… somewhat decent, he supposed. He’d never really stayed in a house that large and he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d slept in a room alone. The guest bedroom Alex had put him up in was big and admittedly terrifying. Every creek of the house or weird noise had him jumping and, by 11 PM, he’d had his sword drawn and almost killed his own shadow.

At that point, he’d gone to Alex’s room and, childishly, asked to sleep in there with him. Alex had smiled‒legitimately, sweetly smiled‒and gave him a blanket to sleep on the couch in his room. He’d slept better in a room with a man he knew wanted to kill him than he ever would’ve alone in the other room.

“Just focus on the fact that we’re a few steps closer to figuring shit out instead of the itchy clothes. We’re gonna figure it all out,” Alex said.

It was weird. He was so warm and comforting on the few times he wasn’t legitimately overwhelming and threatening. Michael didn’t know how to rationalize it in his mind. But he figured he could save that for after he found Mimi and Rosa and Mrs. Manes.

“Boys! Hi!”

Mr. Ortecho was a man that was too nice for his own good sometimes. He’d met them both possibly twice at magic shows during first and third year and that was about it. Yet, he still greeted them with hugs. Michael accepted it warmly and Alex accepted it in the most awkward way Michael had ever seen him. He almost laughed.

“What brings you here?” he asked, letting them inside the small, homey space. Liz was sitting on the couch and she almost immediately shot up at the sight of them.

“Actually,” Alex said before Michael could open his mouth, “We wanted to speak a little about Rosa if that’d be alright.” It was probably best that he took over. He was suave in a way Michael could never be.

Mr. Ortecho’s face faltered a little bit, but he excused himself to go make tea before their chat.

“What are you guys doing here?” Liz asked as soon as her father was out of earshot.

“We’re putting stuff together,” Michael said, “So we’re looking into everyone and seeing what else we can find out. Maybe we’ll be able to find out what else they have in common.”

Liz eyed them both, but she nodded. “How many are missing?”

“As of yesterday, twenty-nine,” Alex said. She gulped visibly and nodded, going to sit back on the couch. Alex smoothly sat on side of her and Michael sat on the other.

He did his best not to be fidgety as Mr. Ortecho brought them tea and answered all the questions Alex seemed to have neatly mapped out. However, the more he spoke of Rosa’s tendency to feel a little extra irritable on some days and forgetful on others, the more he found himself anxious. Mimi used to do that. Or, at least, he’d been told. Maria had once told him that she used to be an alcoholic, but she’d gotten sober within the last decade. It was good for her.

But how easy it would’ve been for someone to blame her disappearance on a bender.

“I’m just hoping she’ll come home once she… clears up her mind,” Mr. Ortecho said. Alex nodded and smiled a comforting little smile.

“I’m sure she will.”

They stayed a few minutes longer to not be rude, but eventually excused themselves from the Ortecho residence. Michael felt like it was an important stop. It seemed like whoever was taking these people were taking them under the knowledge that their disappearance could easily be excused away. How fucking smart.

However, the moment they got into the car and Michael explained that, Alex’s little mask went away and he was glaring and heavy breathing and clutching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. Michael stared at him for a solid five minutes.

“You okay?” he asked.

Then Alex swerved onto the side of the road, got out of the car without turning it off, and stalked into the woods with the crutch in hand. Michael blinked a few times in a failed attempt to process what the hell just happened before carefully turning off the car and following him. It took him approximately five seconds to find him pacing around back and forth between two trees with the crutch, gripping at his long hair with his free hand, and growling each breath.

“Alex?” Michael said carefully.

Michael had never actually seen him lose his cool before, but he wasn’t really eager too. They’d fought and they’d been cruel and they’d sent spells each other’s way, but Alex always had his mask on tight. He never let it slip. Right now it was gone entirely. Michael didn’t have the slightest idea how to help.

“It has just occurred to me,” he said, laughing almost, “That I shouldn’t be fucking looking for my mother.”

Michael blinked a few times and took a step closer. “Why not?”

“Because for my entire life, I thought my dad was a fucking liar,” Alex said, hands emitting flames that Michael questioned if they were on purpose or not. If it were him, it wouldn’t have been. Alex had more control usually. “I thought he was lying when he said that she lost it when I was born! I thought he was fucking lying when he said I made her a flight risk!”

Michael watched him as it got worse and he watched him as trees started catching on fire.

“This whole time I thought she didn’t leave me!” Alex said, tears forming in his eyes and wasting no time before they started pouring down his cheeks, “And now I’m hearing that, even if she didn’t, she probably would’ve! And it’s my fault!”

“Alex, this isn’t your fault,” Michael tried, eyeing the fire, “Someone took her.”

“I made her a target!”

“Alex, c’mon, put out the fire,” he said, taking a step closer. Alex was sobbing and pacing and making a big ass forest fire. It was approximately the opposite of a situation Michael wanted to be inside.

“No!”

“So you wanna die before you find her again?” Michael asked, raising his voice as he tried desperately to figure out how to fix this, “When we find her, she can tell you herself that she didn’t want to leave you!”

“I don’t deserve her!”

“Yes, you do!” Michael screamed, “She didn’t want to leave you, Alex! No one wants to leave you!”

“Everyone wants to leave me! No one wants me!”

And then suddenly Michael, in the middle of a burning forest, decided to kiss him.

-

Kissing Michael Guerin could possibly be the farthest from what he assumed would happen over Christmas break.

Alex pulled away within a few seconds and just stared at the boy who was still holding his face. A smile slipped onto Guerin’s face and, for a moment, he looked the way Alex felt whenever he was being powered by him like a generator. He looked like yes, like this is it, like I’ve been waiting for that feeling.

“Make a wish,” Guerin cast with a newfound focus, gripping the back of Alex’s neck in a way he’d never felt before. Then again, he’d never actually kissed anyone before. He never had a chance. He never thought he was going.

Now he was crying and the boy he was stupidly in love with was looking at him like he was home and he could hardly think.

The fire extinguished around them, but Alex was just staring at Guerin. He wanted to kiss him again. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d even gotten kissed in the first place other than to shut up. However, he’d already embarrassed himself enough, what harm could going in for another kiss do? So he dropped the crutch from his hand

Except for some reason, as he went in for another one, Guerin moved forward too.

Alex wasn’t too sure how long it all lasted, but the fire seemed to die out in system the longer the kisses went on. Somewhere along the way, they ended up on the ground and against a tree. Guerin was holding onto his hips, squeezing every once in a while and pulling him closer and closer. They were basically morphed together and Alex had no thought process left for it.

They kissed and they kissed and they kissed. Closed-lipped, open-mouthed, tongue-full, bite-leaving kisses. Any kiss he could’ve imagined, he got. And they were all with Michael Guerin.

This was a luxury he hadn’t anticipated. Staring at him for seven years had originally felt like the most self-indulgent he’d ever allow himself, but now…

“It’s getting dark,” Guerin whispered between kisses, twirling Alex’s hair between his fingers and sliding his tongue into his mouth because apparently that’s how you tell someone you want to leave. Alex felt like putty in his hands. Guerin may have sucked at controlling his magic, but he was a goddamn connoisseur at kissing. “Maybe we should head back?”

Alex was scared to agree. What if this was it? What if they had to go back and pretend this never happened? He didn’t want that. He wanted to do this again and again and again. He ran his thumb over Guerin’s slightly stubbly jaw and looked at him, savoring the moment.

“Let’s go,” he agreed.

Guerin helped him to his feet and then pulled him into another kiss. Somehow, Alex was shocked. Guerin squeezed his hips and gave him his crutch.

“By the way, Alex,” Guerin said as he started up the car, “People do want you.”

-

There was actually nothing in the world that could prepare Alex for the night he had.

He had gone into this Christmas break as a boring time stuck with his father and researching empty leads to find his mother, and instead he was laying on his bed with Michael fucking Guerin on top of him. Guerin was smirking and staring at him like he wasn’t even nervous or confused. He just looked like he planned it. Alex wondered if maybe he had.

Alex could feel the muscles on his bare shoulder flex and move as he came down, kissing him senselessly. It was jarring. Guerin had the entire car ride to take back the kissing, to say he regretted it, to say he did it just to keep him from burning down the woods, but instead he just wanted to do it more.

They didn’t sleep that night.

“You know, we should practice,” Guerin whispered. They were huddled under the blankets of his ridiculously massive bed, pressed close together in the middle. They were both shirtless and had just hit a two-hour mark of making out. It felt like they set a record for longest time two teenagers could make out in bed without having sex.

“Practice what?” Alex asked. Guerin just smiled at him, tracing idly over Alex’s chest.

“The magic sharing thing,” Guerin said, moving an inch closer so their noses were bumping, “If something happens… You have better control over my magic than I do.”

“So, if shit hits the fan, you want me to take your magic?” Alex clarified. Guerin breathed slow, dragging his hands down Alex’s chest and very quickly making his mind lose its train of thought.

“If you can do what you did on the manticore, then yes,” Guerin whispered. Alex took a heavy breath and nodded.

“Okay,” he said, “Let’s try.”

Guerin nodded and closed his eyes, murmuring so softly that Alex couldn’t even hear him. But he felt the rush of power enter him just like the last time, filling him like a custom fit glove. It was warm and overwhelming and perfect. It felt like it was his.

“Cast something,” Guerin whispered, “Use it, but, like, control it. Don’t let it get big like I do. Don’t, like, explode.”

Alex stared at him and, powered by his magic and his kisses, cast, “Caution to the wind.”

“That’s a truth spell,” Guerin said, eyes going wide and playful, “That’s not fair.”

“I disagree,” Alex said, giggling. He giggled. He was starting to feel high on the magic in him. “Why have you kissed me all night?”

“I wanted to,” Guerin said, “You look beautiful and I want to.” Alex knew it was the truth spell working as intended and he felt like he was floating on air.

“Have you thought about it before?” Alex asked. Guerin’s eyes narrowed accusingly, but his mouth spoke because it didn’t have a choice.

“I don’t know,” he said. Which was a strange answer. Still, Guerin’s eyes fluttered closed and he seemed drowsy all of the sudden. Alex wondered if sharing magic drained him.

“Do you want to do it again?” he asked instead.

“I never want to stop,” Guerin said and his nostrils flared, “I will be very annoyed if you use my magic to put a truth spell on me again.”

“Mmm, I bet,” Alex chuckled, moving forward for a kiss all over again.

As he distracted him, Alex could feel the magic leaving his system.

He wasn’t upset.

-

“You look nice today, Isobel.”

Isobel smiled blankly at Kyle as she let her eyes follow his father instead. The Mage and his son came over yearly on the night before Christmas Eve because that was how he kept tabs on the old families. Or, that’s how Isobel saw it. She couldn’t think of another reason he would be doing that.

Ever since she got word from Alex that Michael had shown up and said that Mimi DeLuca had gone missing, her mind had been reeling. She’d tried to think of all the possible people who could want power and could take whoever they wanted. Then she thought of who benefited the most from the disappearance of Noya Manes.

What a coincidence that that person also happened to be the one who went to find Michael, the most powerful mage alive.

“Thanks,” Isobel said to Kyle, ignoring the smiles he sent her way as she followed his father towards the dining area.

Dinner went by with way too much small talk for her liking. That was the best part about being friends with Michael‒he didn’t even know how to make small talk. However, that seemed to be the only thing her parents and The Mage could do. It was exhausting and frustrating when she was 99% sure that she was sitting across from literal evil.

The only thing more frustrating was that she had to keep it to herself because she had no actual proof.

“Max, you should go show Kyle that new game system you got,” her mother said once dinner was over and her father and The Mage excused themselves, “And, Isobel, why don’t you go do the dishes.” She opened her mouth, ready to say how sexist it was that she was the one being singled out whenever there were plenty of men who were capable of doing their own dishes, but she stopped when she remembered the kitchen was right next to her father’s study.

“Okay,” she agreed, grabbing a few plates before heading to go obey her. Her mother looked more than slightly shocked that she agreed so easily, but smiled nonetheless.

Isobel scrunched her nose up at the pile of dishes stacked up beside the sink as she turned the water on. She let it run for a second and then looked around the kitchen to make sure no one was around. When she was sure that her mother was busy doing whatever mothers do when they get alone time and the boys were probably spewing insults to people in different countries also playing their game, she went to press her ear to the door that led into her father’s study.

“Just… keep it quiet, Evans,” The Mage said, “That’s all I ask.”

“I agreed whenever you told me it for research and that they went willingly!” her father argued, “But now a nineteen-year-old girl goes missing and you expect me to believe that? I’m sorry, Jim, but I don’t.”

“I’m looking into it!”

“You don’t even know what’s happening? You don’t know‒”

“Uh, Isobel?”

Isobel snapped her head to the voice, shushing the figure of Kyle Valenti immediately. He blinked with wide, compliant eyes as he gestured to the slightly overflowing sink. She rushed to turn it off before shushing him again. He held his hands up in surrender.

She went back to listening at the door.

Kyle appeared beside her, facing her as he pressed his ear to the door too. When she furrowed her eyebrows, he smiled and then put his finger to his lips. She scrunched her nose up.

“Listen, I have a lead,” The Mage said, “Just, please. I don’t want to draw attention. If he knows that I’m onto him, then he’ll do something drastic.”

“Him? Who’s him?” her father snapped.

“Just… give me a few more days.”

“That’s it and then I’m going to the coven. This has gone on for far too long.”

“You’re right. I’m going to bring an end to it.”

Isobel and Kyle listened for a little longer, but they changed the subject to something a whole lot less interesting. Something about teaching methods, nothing about missing persons. Isobel itched with the need to tell Michael what she knew. Especially when The Mage had seemed totally oblivious to it before. He either was the culprit or he knew who was.

“So, uh, you eavesdrop a lot?” Kyle asked, rolling up his sleeves.

“Excuse you, you’re the one who came in here and eavesdropped with me, so I don’t think I should be the one asking questions,” Isobel said, using that stern tone of voice that always made Max and Michael obey even if she wasn’t making sense. Kyle just smiled.

“I was coming in here to ask if you wanted help with the dishes because your brother is boring,” he said, “But you were clearly doing something a lot more interesting.”

Isobel chewed on her lip as she stared at him and then took a step towards him. He smiled wider. She tried not to think about that.

“Do you have a car?” she asked. He nodded slowly. “If you drive me to Alex Manes’ house, I’ll tell you why I was eavesdropping.”

“I didn’t even say I wanted to know,” Kyle said, but he was grinning wildly, “But, you’re right, my interest is piqued. You know what my dad has a lead for?”

“Yes,” Isobel said slowly. She didn’t want to outright accuse his father of something. No way he’d drive her then. “Can you meet me outside my house at, like, 10:30? I have to sneak out or my mom will question me.”

Kyle chewed on his bottom lip and for a moment, a short one, she understood why most of the girls thought he was cute. She’d always thought they liked him because his dad was powerful. That’s why most of them liked Michael. You know, until they met Michael and understood he was a handful and a half.

“You want to go to Alex Manes’ house at 10:30 at night?” he asked. She nodded simply. “Okay then. I’ll see you then.”

“Good.”

-

“I would be a bad boyfriend.”

Alex looked over to Guerin and nodded. Rejection makes sense. He always expected it. He’d just expected it to come instead of spending roughly 24 hours memorizing the way he tastes. That made it a little harder, but no less expected.

“Me too,” Alex agreed, lifting his numb leg up to tie his shoe. Isobel had just texted that she was coming over because she had information and he didn’t want to look as kissed senseless as he’d allowed himself to be around Guerin.

Guerin nudged his shoulder with his own. His nose dragged along Alex’s jaw and that was really hard to resonate with the rejection he was giving. Alex tried not to let his eyes close and give in to the hot breath against his neck.

“I’m impulsive,” he said, “I’m constantly getting myself into dangerous situations. And I have no idea if I’m gay or straight or… Alex-sexual.”

“Okay,” Alex said. Why was he dragging this out? He didn’t need a list of all the reasons they couldn’t be together. It was already painful enough.

“But,” Guerin whispered, pressing a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “I really like you.”

“You admitted you didn’t even think about it until yesterday,” Alex pointed out. Guerin shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said, “Or maybe I just didn’t realize that’s what I was thinking. ‘Cause now that I have a name for it, I think I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“Okay,” Alex said again. He didn’t want to keep digging this hole. It was annoying enough to know that, while Alex had been falling in love with someone he was supposed to hate, Guerin had just focused on the hate part.

“I want to…” Guerin said, “I don’t know.”

Alex stared at him. He took in his beautiful hair and his sweet lips and the light red coloring his cheeks. He absorbed the feeling of his power that was hot and burning and ever so present, the power that Alex could still feel throbbing in his own body from when they’d played around with it for hours the night before and the entire morning. He admired the way his own shirt fit snug on Guerin’s shoulder and how the v-neck was already stretched out from him fiddling with it.

“We’re trying to solve a mystery and you want to have this conversation?”

Guerin gave that dopey smile. “I just wanna be able to kiss you a lot.”

Alex snorted a laugh and shook his head. Guerin leaned forward and captured his lips in a very over-exaggerated kiss that had a little too much saliva. Alex laughed and tried to lean away, but Guerin leaned with him and continued his slobbery kisses with pride.

“Alex?” Julie called from the other side of the door, knocking three times before opening it. It gave them just enough time to act normal. Julie was still smiling like she knew. “Your friends are here.”

“Okay, thank you,” he said and she left before he could ask ’friends plural?’.

“Thought it was just Izzy,” Guerin said, standing up and handing Alex the crutch. He took it with a nod.

“Yeah, me too.”

When they got down into the dining room, they found both Isobel and Kyle Valenti. Alex was immediately lost and, when he looked to Guerin, he saw that he was too. He didn’t actually know that they even knew each other.

“Hello, my favorite human and his enemy,” Isobel said, giving a delightfully sinister smile that only belonged to Isobel. He felt his heart thud a little harder and his mind screamed ’she knows, she knows, she knows’, but she didn’t know. There was actually no way she could know.

“You brought Kyle?” Guerin asked, pointing directly at him. Alex and Isobel both swatted his hand down, mumbling about how it was rude to point. He just rolled his eyes.

“I needed a car and Max is a stick in the mud,” Isobel explained.

“Yeah, also, you think my dad is kidnapping people, so I feel like my presence is valid,” he said simply, smirking in a way that was uncannily similar to Isobel’s. He could feel Guerin’s magic building and burning beneath his skin and he gave him a look that said ‘cool it’.

“Kyle, they haven’t heard that part yet!”

Which led to where they did hear that part.

They spent the next few hours discussing everything they’d learned and putting things together and, weirdly, including Kyle into the mix. Isobel had a point that The Mage might have something to do with it, but, if he did, he wasn’t sure that they should be trusting Kyle with all of their findings. What if he knew and was just going to go right to his father and tell him everything that they knew? That would suck. Sure, he was friends with Kyle, but not that good of friends. Hell, he knew Isobel better than he knew Kyle.

“Michael,” Isobel said once they were done relaying the information, “Are you okay with us looking into The Mage?”

Guerin was quiet and, for a moment, Alex wondered if Kyle was the one he should’ve been worried about.

“I don’t think he’d do this,” Guerin said softly. Alex wanted to touch him, but he didn’t. They hadn’t discussed that part. All he knew was that they were possibly boyfriends who could share power who also had a lengthy past of torturing each other.

“Okay, but if he is behind this or if he knows who is and is covering for them,” Kyle said, looking at Guerin directly, “Then he deserves to be brought to justice.”

For a moment, Alex had insane admiration for him. It takes a big man to see your father in that light. Alex himself still struggled to do that with his own father despite the fact that he regularly wanted nothing to do with him. And, when he did bother back before Alex had sealed himself away into the opposite wing of the house, it was never kind. He didn’t like to think about it.

“Okay,” Guerin said, nodding his head, “Okay, we can look into The Mage. Just to cover our bases.”

“Awesome! Come on then, Kyle can drive us home and we can keep an eye on The Mage. They live, like, right down the street, we can look through the windows,” Isobel said. Alex didn’t miss the way Kyle smiled up at her like she said something literally anything other than stalking his father.

“Huh?” Guerin said, looking up from where he was sitting at the head of the table. Isobel blinked innocently at him.

“I know you don’t want to be staying alone with Alex,” she said, “And my mom won’t mind. I’ll tell her you got lost in the woods or something.”

Alex looked past them and tried to act like he didn’t care. He really, really tried hard to be the person who hated Guerin and not the one who craved the feeling of his skin on his. And he really tried not to feel disappointment when Guerin nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Okay.”

Alex watched as he stood and took a step towards Isobel before he stopped.

“Wait,” Guerin whispered, “Don’t you guys come over here on Christmas?”

Kyle looked shocked that he knew that and nodded. “Yeah, we do.”

“Then wouldn’t it be better if I stay here? You two can keep an eye on him there, we can watch him here,” Guerin said. Isobel eyed him oddly and then looked over to Alex who was focusing on keeping his face blank.

“I mean…” Isobel trailed off and she looked between them again, “I guess.”

“He’s got a point, Isobel,” Kyle said. She looked at him with a face that said ’literally who even brought you here’ and he gave her a smile and a small head tilt that said ’you did’. Isobel rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to return him back in one piece?” she asked Alex. He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he said, though they both knew he would. The truce was still in effect.

“Okay,” Isobel said, “Then we have a plan. Watch The Mage and see what he knows but won’t tell us.”

“Lovely.”

Isobel and Kyle left with about as much pizzazz as their arrival. It left Guerin and Alex alone once again, this time in the open space of the dining room. Guerin walked around the table, his lips pursed in a way that was making an irritating squeaking noise as he dragged his fingers across the tabletop. He was slowly making his way towards Alex.

“Do you actually want to stay here or do you want to go stay with Isobel?” Alex asked. Guerin stopped the irritating squeaking and looked to where he was sitting through his hair.

“Why?” he whispered. It was not quite the answer he wanted. Rather than act upset or disappointed, Alex chose to act like he couldn’t care less.

“Look, just go if you want. You’re not stuck here,” he said, smiling like he did when he hated him. Guerin just blinked all wide-eyed and innocent at him. It made it harder to rationalize why he was pushing him away. “Go.”

Guerin shrugged with one shoulder, sighing with his lips closed so that they buzzed together. He took a slow, hesitant step towards Alex as he tapped on the table.

“I dunno,” he whispered, “I just… I wanted to…”

“What? Roll around and play boyfriends?”

Guerin stopped tapping. “Is that an option?”

Alex let out a disbelieving laugh.

Neither of them were surprised when they ended up shirtless in Alex’s bed for the second night in a row.

-

“So, you haven’t noticed anything about your dad?”

“Not really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Isobel,” Kyle laughed, looking over to her. She was damn near vibrating in her seat. He didn’t really see how she planned on getting any sleep. “If I knew, I would tell you.”

“Would you? Because we aren’t friends,” Isobel said, then paused for a moment and added, “Or, like, are we?”

“I’d like to think so,” Kyle hummed. Isobel huffed in her seat, still squirming as she murmured to herself. She still had her hair all done up from dinner and she’d tucked the dress she’d been wearing into a pair of jeans to make it a shirt. He found it endlessly charming.

“I just can’t figure it out,” Isobel groaned, “He’s already The Mage. What would he really get out of stealing power? He’s at the top. I feel like I’m missing a piece, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Well,” Kyle sighed dramatically, “We could go to the smartest person I know.”

Isobel eyed him. “I’m right here.” He smiled at her.

“Okay, second smartest,” he said, “Liz Ortecho is incredible at putting shit together.”

“Okay, but she already knows people are missing,” Isobel pointed out, turning in her seat to face him instead of the window. He suddenly felt like he was under a microscope. “She hasn’t said anything.”

“We haven’t given her all the information,” Kyle said. Isobel nodded slowly. “Tomorrow we can go see her and see what she knows if you want.” Isobel groaned and threw herself into the seat.

“Tomorrow? Can’t we go tonight? I don’t think I can wait that long,” she whined. Kyle bit down on his lips, trying not to be too amused by her.

“Well, Mr. Ortecho is nice, but not so nice that he won’t be annoyed by us knocking at his door at two in the morning.” Isobel whined a little louder.

“Fine, you have a point.”

By the time they got back to the Evans’ house, he felt just as eager as she did. She must’ve rubbed off on him. Still, he watched her climb back through her window and made sure she locked it just in case before driving the few houses down to his own house.

He never really gave a shit about magic before and he wasn’t exactly powerful either. He had enough, but he didn’t really care for it. He was perfectly fine doing normal things and, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t even be at Watford. Alas, he didn’t have that choice because his father ran the show there, so he was there too. He did well enough to pass, but he’d had many teachers pull him aside and tell him that they felt he wasn’t living up to his potential.

What they meant is that they expected more from him when his father was The Mage and his brother by proxy was literally the most powerful being in the World of Mages. Which was fine. He didn’t care.

But he did care about justice and if his father was being shitty, then he wanted to help. It was just a bonus that Isobel cared too.

He woke up the next morning to Isobel standing disturbingly at the foot of his bed.

“Why are you here?” he grumbled instead of screaming. It helped that he had dreams of her more than a few times a month. “It’s, like, seven in the‒”

“It’s almost noon and you said we were going to the Ortechos, so I came to bother you,” she said with a smile, plopping down on the foot of his bed. It was decidedly the last on a long list of reasons for why she would be on his bed.

And on his bed she stayed as he excused himself to get dressed and brushed his teeth. He tried not to think about it when she laid her head on his pillow while waiting for him to choose his socks.

They both got into his car for the third time in roughly twelve hours and headed towards the Ortechos. Kyle really didn’t have much time to think about what exactly he was going to say to her about this, but, by the way Isobel was rambling, he assumed she did.

Liz stepped outside before they could even reach the door.

“Hi,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hey,” Kyle said, looking over to Isobel for a moment, “Uh, can we talk to you about something?”

“Is there someone stealing magic?” she asked, her voice hushed as she looked around to see if people were listening. Kyle blinked in shock. “Because that’s all I can think of.”

“I’ve been thinking that too,” Isobel said without even hesitating, “But, with my main suspect, I don’t know why he would need it. He’s already power hungry. And then he hasn’t taken Michael.”

“Okay, but people would question Michael’s disappearance,” Liz pointed out, “But maybe they wouldn’t after he graduates.”

“Whoever is taking people is speeding up,” Isobel said, “I don’t think they’re waiting.”

“Girls, I’m glad we’re on the same page and all, but maybe we should go somewhere a little less out in the open? Anyone could listen,” Kyle said carefully. They both stared at him for a minute before nodding. And then they both went to his car like that made sense. “Alright.”

Kyle listened for over an hour to the two girls going back and forth with information, both clearly more intelligent than he was. Or, at least in a different way. It seemed like they were built to solve mysteries.

By the time they were done, they decided that Michael could possibly be the next target if whoever was doing it planned to take care of it all while they were on break.

“We need you to get me an invite for dinner at the Manes’ tomorrow,” Isobel said sternly. Liz scoffed before looking at him with just as much sass.

“Me too.”

“Okay,” Kyle agreed, primarily because he was scared to disagree, “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Sometime during night three of being in bed with Alex Manes, Michael actually got some sleep.

Actual sleep too. Like, he passed out at 9pm type of sleep. The last thing he remembered was laying on Alex and feeling his fingers in his hair which was easily the most comforting thing in the world. It’s what made him fall asleep so fast.

That being said, when he woke up in the middle of the night, he wasn’t pleased to find Alex no longer holding him.

“‘Lex?” he groaned haphazardly, feeling around for him. They’d been touching for almost three days straight and he’d be lying if he said he was okay with being separated. He had no idea what was going to happen when they went back to school, but he was eager to bask in it now.

When he couldn’t find Alex, he opened his eyes. He forced himself to sit up and look around the comically massive room for any sign of him. There wasn’t one.

“Alex?” he called once again, nerves spiking in him. What if they took Alex?

He quickly scrambled out of bed and went to the door. As he threw it open, he found Alex about to open it. He immediately shoved him into the room, locking the door behind him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Michael asked, looking over Alex to make sure there was nothing wrong with him. Alex pressed his hand over his mouth and Michael’s eyes widened.

“Don’t freak out, don’t worry,” he said, but the look on his face did absolutely nothing to calm his fears, “But I don’t think we’re going to have a good day.”

Michael’s eyebrows pulled together and he reached to grab Alex’s sides. He was anxious and his magic was pulsating under his skin, preparing to burst. He wanted more information. He focused on breathing and then pressed a kiss to Alex’s palm that was still over his mouth.

“I heard my dad arguing on the phone with someone,” Alex whispered, looking over his shoulder like he thought someone was behind him instead of the door behind locked. Michael held him tighter. “He said it was happening. And, while I’m not sure what it is, I think I can put it together.”

Michael blinked a few times as he tried to follow Alex’s thought process. “Maybe we should ask him.”

Alex smiled a sad little smile and shook his head, grabbing Michael’s cheeks and pulling him down enough for him to press a kiss to his forehead. Then he pressed a kiss to his lips and it felt like a goodbye. Michael’s heartbeat sped up.

“Let me go check it out,” Michael insisted. If he figured it out before it happened, he could keep everyone safe and he could blow up the problem and could go back to bed with Alex.

“No,” Alex said sternly, gripping his arm.

“Alex, let m‒”

“No.”

 Michael wriggled out of Alex’s grip and pushed past him, unlocking the door.

“Guerin, will you listen for once in your‒”

“No,” Michael said simply, heading down the corridor and trying not to be too scared when he heard Alex’s crutch following closely behind him.

-

Kyle rubbed his eyes as he yawned for the 6th time in the last twenty minutes.

He’d resigned to being in a ball of blankets on the couch that night, his face illuminated by the Christmas tree he put up himself and the light of his phone. Liz and Isobel had put him into a group chat, but hadn’t added Michael or Alex for some reason. He liked to think it was to annoy them, but really it was just preventing him from sleeping. His phone would buzz every few seconds, but he was too scared to go to sleep in case something bad happened to one of them. They were investigating his fucking father for god’s sake.

And, speaking of his father, he woke Kyle up from dozing off with a loud slam of his bedroom door.

Kyle watched as he hurried around the living room, searching for his car keys presumably.

“Dad?” Kyle asked, “What’s going on?”

The Mage stopped for a moment to look at him with a look he didn’t recognize.

“It’s Manes.”

And then he was out the door. Kyle stared for a moment before fumbling to call Isobel.

“Kyle?” Isobel said hesitantly. He couldn’t take his eyes off the doorway.

“My dad just ran out and left,” Kyle said, “He said ‘it’s Manes’. What are the chances that has something to do with the disappearance?”

Isobel was quiet for a moment before she said, “High. I’ll call Liz, come get me.”

Kyle didn’t really like speeding, but he did that night. He raced to get Isobel and he raced to get Liz and then he raced to get to Alex’s. Alex annoying lived the farthest away and, even with the speeding, it was 30 minutes of agonizing stress.

When they pulled up into the driveway, his dad’s car was left on and the front door was open. Kyle looked to the girls in his car and wondered if they should go inside.

“Give it a minute,” Isobel whispered, “If Michael goes off and we’re inside, then it’ll hit us and he’ll feel really bad.”

So they waited.

-

Alex did his best to keep calm as he following Guerin down the winding path towards the basement.

He had no idea how Guerin knew where to go, but he chalked it up to him being super fucking powerful and just doing things on accident. He was genuinely terrified for what they were about to walk into. He wanted to call Guerin back and force him to go back to bed for a couple more hours. Just to savor it. He felt like he was wasting their time.

He wasn’t ready for this.

“Guerin,” Alex tried one last time as he reached the door. Guerin looked over his shoulder.

“Take what you need, Alex” he cast softly as if it was a spell and he supposed it was. But it was just his.

Alex slowly but surely felt that familiar swell in the pit of his stomach that spread across his body. It was warm and comforting and he wanted to use it to cast little spells on Guerin while they laid in bed. He didn’t want to use it to do whatever they were about to do.

God, what the hell were they about to do?

Guerin opened the door and walked inside, sword drawn at his side. Alex didn’t remember seeing it before, but, if he knew Guerin, then he knew it’d been there since the moment he realized Alex wasn’t in bed. Alex took a deep breath and resonated the magic in his system before following.

“Alex…” he whispered from somewhere in the darkness of the basement. He couldn’t see a damn thing.

“Let there be light,” Alex cast, deciding that it’d be a fair fight if he could fucking see.

Except he very quickly realized that he didn’t want to see.

The entire basement was full of people. Not just any people, but the people that’d gone missing. Alex felt his skin start to burn as he breathed heavier, taking in each face that he’d been researching for two months now that had been in his fucking basement the entire time. He’d been so close and didn’t even know it.

They were all standing and frozen, eyes open but empty. None of them seemed to have any life left in them. It was confusing as best, terrifying at worst. He looked for Michael amongst them and found him looking more than a little overwhelmed. Alex was about to go to him, but was stopped once he spotted a face towards the back.

“Mom?” he said carefully. She didn’t respond because of course she didn’t. Alex ran to her anyway.

He hadn’t seen her since he was five, but she didn’t look any different. It was as if she’d been frozen in time, still in her Watford robes. He was taller than her now and it was jarring to him. He didn’t know what to do. He grabbed her face in his hands, disregarding the crutch that fell to the floor.

“Mama? Are you in there?” he asked softly, trying to keep hold of all the magic inside of him rather than giving in to the panic he was feeling.

Was this was Guerin felt like all the time?

“Alex,” Guerin called to him and he found him right beside him. His warm hand touched the small of his back.

The door slammed open again.

The two of them swiftly turned to face the person at the door, Guerin’s sword ready and Alex’s wand pointed. It was The Mage. His face was red and he was breathing heavily, his hands held up in defense.

“It’s your father.”

Before Alex could even mock him for stating the obvious, hands grabbed either side of his head.

“I put a spell on you,” Jesse Manes’ identifiable voice cast, “And now you’re mine.”

-

“They need our help, let go of me!”

Isobel had gone from waiting to give Michael a chance to feeling like something was very, very wrong within a few seconds. Kyle was holding onto her and his annoying tight grip was the only thing keeping her from running inside.

“Do they?!” Kyle asked, looking almost as desperate to keep her in the car as she was to get out of it, “Michael’s the Chosen One! What if this is his moment?! I’m not letting you get caught in the middle of that!”

“He needs me!” Isobel said, tears of sheer frustration brimming her eyes as she stopped fighting him.

She knew Michael better than anyone. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t have the knowledge to have his big, final boss battle yet. He was still preparing‒she was still preparing. Maybe Kyle was right in the sense that she would definitely get caught in the middle of it, but it felt downright wrong to leave Michael alone in this.

He was gunpowder.  There was no aim, there was no skill. There was an explosion.

Isobel had to be there to ground him. She had to be there to add some skill to the mess. She had to be there to save him when he didn’t think to do it himself. They’d been in scary situations before and they’d always only gotten out of it because they had each other with the small exception of that one time that Alex helped.

Michael was going to die and she would have to live knowing she didn’t do a damn thing.

-

“Guerin,” Alex said slowly, “Get behind me.”

Alex seemed to get it faster than Michael did. He was frozen, blinking and desperately trying to piece it together as he watched Alex’s father cast a spell he’d never heard on The Mage. Then The Mage seemed to go limp for a moment. Then he was another lifeless statue, staring blankly alongside the rest of the people. Alongside Mimi. Michael tried not to look at her.

Alex didn’t even seem shocked. He just seemed cynical. Michael didn’t fucking get it.

“Guerin, please,” Alex said, his voice controlled.

Michael slowly moved behind Alex but pressed his back into his instead. Alex reached behind him with his free hand, squeezing his hip slightly. Jesse Manes laughed for some reason.

“How cute,” he said coldly.

Michael couldn’t see him, but he felt something happen and it seemed like all the bodies powered on. Alex squeezed him again.

Oh. Oh, he wanted control. Jesse Manes wanted to be in control.

“Remember,” Alex said as the bodies started coming towards them, surrounding them with their magical pieces and murmuring spells under their breath, “They’re still people. They’re still in there, I think. Don’t kill them.”

Michael nodded and he reached down quickly to grab Alex’s hand and squeeze before he let go.

Sharing magic was hard on Michael’s mental state. It made him want to sink into it and just go to sleep into the feeling of being surrounded by warmth and safety and love. However, he couldn’t give in to that as spelled hurdled toward him and he had to somehow fight it off with his sword. He got tired faster than he should’ve.

Alex kept pulling out spells Michael hadn’t heard, causing each one of them that came close to at least stumble. Some fell, some seemed to turn off. They stayed back to back just in case.

“Nonsense!” Michael and Alex cast at the same time, watching it work a little better than it did when they did something alone. Hell, Michael saw Rosa Ortecho blink. “Nonsense!”

Michael used his sword to knock magical pieces out of their hands, rendering them slightly less powerful. He kept shouting alongside Alex, though, casting what he could in the magic that they shared. It knocked them back, sent them into a daze. It worked.

Once all 30-plus of them had resigned to the floor on different levels of useless, he let himself fall to his knees. He would’ve leaned into Alex, but he knew Alex didn’t have his crutch and the only thing keeping him mobile was adrenaline that pushed through the pain the split caused him.

And, God, Michael was so fucking tired.

“Alex,” he whispered as he bowed his head. He wasn’t going to be much help, not like this. He couldn’t fight with that feeling. “Take it all.”

“Okay.”

-

“What if Michael isn’t the Chosen One?”

Kyle and Isobel both looked towards Liz was sitting in the back seat. She was leaning forward, eyes trying on the front door and her eyebrows pulled together. She looked like she was working through an epiphany.

“What do you mean?” Isobel sniffled, “His power is unparalleled. He fits the prophecy.”

“Exactly,” Liz said, a smile slowly forming on her face, “And what’s more unparalleled than using the power of another person? I mean, it’s unheard of.”

“I don’t understand,” Kyle whispered.

Isobel gulped and focused in on the literal castle. She could feel the power within growing, strengthening. It wasn’t like Michael’s explosions, it was stronger and controlled. It felt like something had just clicked.

“So, that day in the courtyard,” Kyle said carefully, “That was just practice?”

Liz hummed in a way that neither confirmed nor denied his statement.

“God, you better be right,” Isobel said and took that moment of them being distracted to run out of the car and straight into the house.

-

Alex felt Guerin’s power well inside him in a way stronger than it had ever been before.

He closed his eyes for just a second, almost forgetting what was happening and reveling in how goddamn right it felt. However, in that stupid moment of his, one of the bodies grabbed him. Well, not just one of the bodies. It was the body of his mother, the first one Jesse had claimed and therefore the strongest.

Nerves built in him as he weakly tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but he couldn’t manage it. He didn’t want to hurt her. Fuck, he couldn’t hurt her.

“Stand your ground!” he yelled to his father, hoping it would at least buy him a little time to get out of his mother’s grip. He was high on Guerin’s power and he could have done anything, but he didn’t. He was scared shitless.

And that meant his spell didn’t fucking work.

His father laughed and shook his head, stepping closer. Alex’s eyes went to where Guerin was all but slumped against the wall while sweat beaded his forehead and he took slow, ragged breaths. His eyes were closed. His sword was a few feet away. He was defenseless.

And Alex was terrified.

He watched as Jesse Manes grabbed Guerin’s face. He watched Guerin’s hazy eyes drag open, not even aware enough to be scared. He supposed that was good. Still, Alex wriggled harder in his mother’s grip.

“I put a spell on you and now you’re mine.”

“Michael!” Alex screamed, fighting harder. Michael just slumped back down, this time landing on the floor.

He needed to do something, he needed to do something.

Alex closed his eyes and let himself become overwhelmed like Michael did. He let himself become that bomb. Still, it wasn’t as reckless as Michael always had been, but it was enough. When he opened his eyes again, he was glowing just like Michael would.

And his mother let go.

Jesse stared at him in something akin to pride. It was nothing short of revolting. Leave it to him to only be proud by something Alex stole. This wasn’t his. This was never meant to be his.

In that same moment, Alex watched Isobel pad into the room on the tips of her toes. He chose not to look at her anymore after that, deciding to keep his eyes on his father to make sure he didn’t notice. His father just continue to marvel at him.

“I knew it,” he said, “I knew I created something better than you.”

Alex sneered, “You didn’t create this.”

Before anything else could be said, Isobel threw him Michael’s sword which he caught with impressive accuracy. Jesse laughed. Alex looked down to see Isobel holding Michael and whispering a barrier spell. Thank God.

“Give it up, son,” Jesse said, letting Alex circle him, “You and your little friends can’t do anything. They’re all under my control. You can do what you want, but I still win. I will always win.”

Alex was buzzing, glowing. He suddenly couldn’t think of any spells. He didn’t need any spells. All he had to do was believe something, need something, and it happened. He needed his father to stop moving, he froze to the ground. He needed everyone to stop being in his control, they all collapsed.

Is this what it was like to be Michael? Is this what he felt all the time? Was this how powerful he was? Was this the control he had?

Alex pressed the sword beneath his father’s chin, watching the man scowl as he tried to move and couldn’t.

“I should’ve known,” Alex whispered, “I should’ve known that the only person who would’ve thought they could benefit off my mother disappearing was you. I should’ve put it together.”

“You aren’t smart enough for that,” Jesse said, huffing as he shook his head, “You’re just a coward. You always have been.”

It shouldn’t hurt like it did. His words shouldn’t feel like a knife, not after everything. They do. Alex lets the magic become him entirely. He lets go.

“You’re done hurting and controlling me,” he said firmly, his voice seeming somewhere other than his body, “And you’re done hurting and controlling them.”

And just like before, it happened.

Jesse’s eyes went wide and his body started to react like it was choking. Alex took a step back as he watched his father convulse a few times and dropped to his knees. And he watched as he collapsed to the floor.

And then it was silent.

After a few moments of silence, Alex let go of the power and let it go home. He assumed that’s when Isobel let the barrier around him go. Alex watched her crawl over to Jesse Manes and check his pulse. Her eyes shifted to Alex, not scared and not pitiful. Just… Isobel.

“He’s dead.”

And Alex couldn’t find it in him to feel remorse.

-

Kyle and Liz followed Isobel back into the basement after everything had finished.

They walked around to all the people who had been asleep for however long and tried their best to talk to them and see if they were able to reorient. The people who had been taken more recently seemed to snap back into being normal if only a little drowsy, like Rosa and Mimi and The Mage. The people who had been taken years ago, however, were completely unhinged. The Mage explained that it had sort of been like they’d been in solitary confinement for however many years; they would need rehabilitation.

Kyle looked over to see Rosa and Liz hugging so tightly he was surprised either of them could breathe. Mimi and Isobel were speaking in hushed voices, probably about Michael and about the sword. His dad was on the phone, calling someone to tell them what had gone down and to send a car to take the people who weren’t able to reorient themselves quick enough.

And then, in the corner, Alex was holding Michael. Or maybe Michael was holding Alex. It was hard to tell which limb belonged to which boy. He couldn’t tell which one was more upset which was jarring. Alex was the one who had just lost his father. Then again, Michael had just gotten the power back that had been used to kill said father. So, he supposed that made enough sense.

He turned away when Alex ran a hand through Michael’s hair and whispered something like, “It’s alright, love, we’ve solved it.”

It was no longer his business.

-

“So, I’m the Chosen One?”

Alex kept his voice soft as the five of them stayed huddled up in their tiny dorm room back at Watford. Michael was asleep on his bed. He still hadn’t seemed to catch up on the fatigue that came with surrendering yourself over. Alex stayed beside him, though, not really carrying who saw anymore.

“I mean, you did save everyone,” Liz pointed out. Alex raised an eyebrow at her.

“I also woke people up, some of whom have massive trauma from being locked in their own brains for years,” he said. He doesn’t add how one of them was his own mother and how she had at least six months in a psychiatric ward to go.

It was the only reason he even decided to go back to Watford. He couldn’t do anything for her outside of visiting her whenever he could and staying at his house felt eerie. He hated that it was stained with the memories of everything his father had done.

“Did we ever figure out why he chose October?” Kyle asked whenever the conversation stilled and Alex smiled when both women slapped his arms. “I’m just asking!”

“It was the time of year,” Alex said, “It’s when that phrase was used the most. It made it stronger.”

All that strength had made the coven realize that they probably shouldn’t have one main person in charge. Jim Valenti seemed to be perfectly alright with that, staying at the headmaster at Watford and only that. It made their lives just a little easier.

“Are you two gonna be okay?” Isobel asked sometime after Kyle and Liz had left. Alex looked down to Michael.

He hadn’t taken the news that he was powerful enough to kill with a thought very well. In fact, it led to about an hour-long breakdown of him thinking he was bred to be a killer. Why else would he be so powerful unless he was designed to murder? Alex took him to therapy with him after that. It’d only been about a week since he started, but it already seemed to do him some good.

“I think so,” Alex sighed, rubbing his eyes. Isobel nodded and kissed both of their heads before leaving them completely alone.

Alex laid back on Michael’s bed, curling up behind him and falling asleep a little too quickly.

When he woke up, Micahel was staring at him. He smiled lazily and nudged his nose against his, breathing him in with a soft inhale. Michael didn’t reciprocate.

“I’m a coward, I think,” Michael whispered, not caring that it was far too early to be having a conversation of this caliber, “I just gave up when I should’ve protected you. I should’ve fought longer.”

“You were drained,” Alex said, combing his fingers through his hair, “You made the right choice. You giving me full control saved both of us.”

They laid there for a moment longer in silence, Micahel relaxing just a bit more than he had previously. Alex liked when he relaxed.

“I guess I’m really useless, aren’t I? I wasn’t even good at being the fake Chosen One. That’s the only thing that’s made sense my entire life,” he grumbled. Alex rolled his eyes and pulled Michael closer.

“Will you stop? You were perfect. You fought and that’s all I could’ve asked for.”

“So you don’t think I’m useless?”

“Never.”

Michael moved in for a kiss.

[lexicals]

For the D&D Ask: 1, 4 and 13?

1. A favorite character you have played.

It's probably got to be Brie :v Purely because this campaign is the longest running one I've ever played, so I've had more time to figure them out and actually get them some fun abilities? I also didn't feel the need to be beholden to like, a high fantasy setting while I was creating them so I think they're a bit more fun than my og halfling ranger or even my bird bard

4. Your current campaign.

We're just finishing up the lost mine of phandelver! Which if you're not familiar is the module that the balance campaign started on, we've been chasing ol gundren around for a while now and every time someone mentions sildar I'm like "oh yes, they mean barry" lmao. Our dm has supplemented the module with some homebrew content and other stuff too though and I think we'll be getting into more original stuff after this is over which'll be fun!!

13. Introduce your current party.

[Rubs hands together] Oh hell yeah

So we've got:

Brie (my pc): wood elf "magician" (class-wise they're a rogue, but a magician by trade), entertainer background. Just happy to be helping & part of the team, actual baby (in elven terms anyway) and pretty immature. Kind of a coward, kind of impulsive, pretty snarky at times but overall good-natured!

Rooaltagh: dwarven (idr which type) druid, hermit background. Very crunchy. Can't remember the names of any NPCs, ever. Alternates between being the party grandma and doing things like waterboarding goblins. "Welsh" accent that often dips into irish or sometimes scottish. Not a lot of patience for nonsense & will make her disapproval plain to you. We keep trying to set her up with the priestess in phandalin and she's very embarrassed about it

(Next two's players tend to rp less so they're a bit harder to describe)

Maareya: fire genasi fighter, not sure about background. Seems to be interested in mainly drinking and cash money. Prefers action over words, big buff intimidating lady who likes to hit stuff and break things

Flovan: halfling warlock, party killing machine. I honestly think she must account for at least a third of our kill count. Very quiet, I don't actually know what entity she's sworn to other than I think it's something eldritch, but I think we're gonna find out more about that soon maybe

There's drawings/portraits of these guys on my "magician baby campaign" tag too if you wanna see more of them!

Whew that was a long one anyway ty for the ask!!

[homestuck-session-analysis]

Hello friend! I was wondering how a session with Prince of Rage, Knight of Doom, Heir of Time, Sylph of Space, Mage of Void would go. And possible quadrants between them.

Forgotten Ask number three!  Session analysis with quadrants, coming straight up!

Prince of Rage

Personality: Princes have fairly destructive personalities and resent others, mostly because they strongly resent themselves.  Their self-hatred often lead to them harming others, either intentionally or unintentionally.  As a Rage Player, the Prince will likely have anger issues, but also develop a complex about those issues, so they will strive to be happy at all times.  This is obviously an impossible feat, but the issue compounds when they extend these expectations onto others.  Princes need to learn how to accept accountability for their actions and accept themselves for who they truly are.

Abilities: Princes of Rage, at peak power, can destroy a person’s negative emotions, calming them.  They can also destroy using Rage, meaning they may be able to drive others insane.

Session Contribution: Princes tend to be called to session with a great surplus of their aspect, and they are called to destroy it before it destroys the session.  In this case, this means that a lot of crazy, shitty shit is gonna happen.Knight of Doom (sorry for literally copying this from the last ask)

Personality: Knights are a very insecure lot, typically using their aspect to attempt to create a facade that makes them seem more impressive.  As a Doom player, they would try to appear intimidating and dangerous, like Death incarnate, but in reality, they are depressed and concerned for their friends.  To develop as a person, they must learn to trust others and lower their walls.

Abilities: The Knight of Doom is the wielder of death itself.  They would be very proficient with many different weapons, and ultimately, they may be able to temporarily raise the dead.

Session Contribution: Knights are called to sessions with a shortage of their aspect, so this session will likely have too few people dying, if that makes sense.  The Knight’s job is to make the most of each death to make up for this lack.Heir of Time

Personality: Heirs tend to come off as very dumb, but a more accurate term would be happy-go-lucky.  They are very much a representation of “ignorance is bliss,” for they tend to grow up very sheltered and secure, especially under by aspect.  As a Time player, their source of security would, ironically, be change and moving forward.  This Heir would value personal growth very heavily, and difficulty appears once they form a more stable sense of self and life becomes stagnant.

Abilities: The Heir of Time would avoid danger through time travel, though it would take a while to be able to use this ability on a non-incidental level.

Session Contribution: The Heir of Time’s time travel can be very helpful in avoiding doomed timelines, and I can also see this as an offensive player.Sylph of Space

Personality: Sylphs are people who have a great sense of someone’s potential, and they tend to be driven to help in any way possible.  This can make them seem to be incredibly nosy and a little annoying, but they have nothing but good intentions.  As a Space player, they are the de facto Mother of the team.  Imagine Kanaya, which is accurate because she is in fact a Sylph of Space. Their biggest weakness is that they can’t seem to grasp when something is a lost cause.

Abilities: The Sylph of Space would be able to mend rips in space and heal teammates.

Session Contribution: Space players are tasked with breeding the Genesis Frog, and though the Sylph wouldn’t have much of an advantage in doing this, they would be able to put in a lot of time and care into the process.  They would also work as a wonderful caretaker of their fellow teammates.Mage of Void (I’m also copy/pasting this, I am so sorry)

Personality: Mages tend to be very intelligent and bright, but also tend to be jaded and cynical.  However, they gain their knowledge through experiences, often painful ones.  As a Void player, this person is likely often forgotten or neglected in some way, or often harmed because they’re accidentally left in the dark, allowing them to learn how to properly use their Void powers!

Abilities: The Mage of Void gains knowledge of secrets and mysteries for their own benefit, so I believe they would be a master manipulator, using secrets to pull strings, or perhaps a true magician, using hidden, forbidden knowledge to wield black magic.

Session Contribution: This Mage is a wild card, so if you can manage it, try to make their learning experiences pleasant.  Otherwise, they can really mess your shit up.  Overall, this player is rather offensively focused for an observation class.

Session Overview

Leader: No clear leaders are popping out at me…honestly anyone could step up, but the players ranked from most likely to least likely are: Knight of Doom, Mage of Void, Sylph of Space, Prince of Rage, and Heir of Time.  However, each of them would make a great leader in their own way.

Offense: Three out of five of your players are offensively focused, and they are each very strong, so I’d say you’re good.

Planning: Your only observation class isn’t really geared to planning.  Not that the Mage of Void wouldn’t be good at it, but they’d probably be more concerned with unlocking the secrets of the game or of the team.  Your best bet at any form of prediction is your Heir of Time which is…suboptimal.

Survival: You have a healer, which is better than most sessions have, and the Heir will definitely survive for a while.  Also, the presence of the Knight of Doom is a good omen that not many people will be dying.

Frog Breeding: Sylph of Space/Knight of Doom is very close to Sylph of Space/Knight of Blood, and we all know how that turned out.  The trick is patience, so take your time and make sure you do it right!

Loyalty: The only person I really see going rogue is the Mage, but with such a small session full of what seems to be good people, I don’t see that happening.  I can see that these players are probably very close.

Overall: I think this session has what it needs, but it isn’t a given.  Hard work is mandatory.

Likely Quadrants

Prince of Rage ~ Knight of Doom: The Prince and the Knight are absolute opposites, and they hate each other, but they aren’t exactly rivals or have any feelings for one another.  The Prince resents how dark the Knight is, and the Knight resents how the Prince is trying to force him to drop his facade of darkness.  Mutual distaste.

Prince of Rage ~ Heir of Time: The Prince would respect how carefree the Heir is, maybe even fall in love with them, but the Heir would likely be on okay terms with the Prince at best.

Prince of Rage

Prince of Rage Mage of Void: The Prince will always make sure that the Mage is happy, making them feel remembered and appreciated.  The Mage will sense the Prince’s repressed emotions, and likely help them accept themself.

Knight of Doom ~ Heir of Time: The Knight would respect the Heir’s courage and ability to change, but the feeling isn’t mutual.

Knight of Doom Sylph of Space: The Sylph would be able to see past the Knight’s persona and help them gain confidence in themself, while the Knight will protect the Sylph and makes sure no one takes advantage of them.

Knight of Doom ~ Mage of Void: The Knight would probably forget the Mage exists like 70% of the time, which would annoy the fuck out of the Mage.

Heir of Time

Heir of Time ~ Mage of Void: The Heir would probably forget the Mage exists like 70% of the time, which would annoy the fuck out of the Mage.

Sylph of Space ~ Mage of Void: The Sylph and the Mage are very close friends, but only by virtue of the fact that the Sylph wouldn’t leave the Mage the fuck alone, and I guess the Mage gets pretty lonely.

]>>Maso

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Swindler (Rogue Archetype)

 A contender for the most misleading name for an archetype, today we’re looking at the swindler!

While plenty of rogues, including swindlers are fully capable of using deception to get what they want, this archetype is actually based around a combination of raw guile honed in gambling halls and the like, combined with an obsession with luck. The results being a flavor of rogue that loves to leave things up to fate, at least until things don’t go their way, and they use their manifold skills to tip things in their favor.

Whether they actually believe in luck or not, these grifters get great satisfaction out of achieving victory while (seemingly) doing little to nothing, but they also know the difference between chance and skill, and when to use both to their advantage.

 Whether by sheer daring or some blessing of luck, these rogues can let luck decide their next immediate course of action, such as with a flipped coin, rolled dice, or drawn card. Upon doing so and performing that act, they find themselves quite lucky in that regard.

Subtle movements are key in a cheater’s game, and these gamblers have deft hands that rival any magician.

Many gambling games that are played against other players require the players to avoid giving away their chances by their reactions. While today’s subject is quite skilled at that as well, they can also apply it to sudden strikes that even foes that can see them do not expect.

In a world of fantasy, it only make sense that they would also train their minds to resist the influence of others trying to get the drop on them as well.

Calling upon uncanny luck, they can even snatch success from the jaws of defeat, or at least give themselves a fighting chance.

This archetype finds the rogue talents associated with magic, being canny and perceptive, as well as deceptive in one’s own right to be very valuable.

A neat archetype should you want to include a sort of pseudo-gambler character in the party. I recommend a feinting build that mixes in elements of magic and outsmarting foes with useful tools and sheer daring alike. I will point out, however, that this archetype gets rid of several classic rogue defensive abilities, so with that in mind, taking defensive options and generally staying out of combat that they cannot easily gain the upper hand in will be your mantra.

 Despite the deceptive name, this archetype is an interesting way to add an element of random chance to a rogue. While not as over the top as say, a Final Fantasy Gambler, they can get the job done, and we’ve covered other harrow-themed archetypes that can better emulate that class anyway.

  Tenacious like a flea, Harbin was a notorious grifter and cheat, and nobody bat an eye when he went missing, that is until adventurers showed up claiming that he was the illegitimate father of Princess Imulsdae, and now everyone, noble and commoner alike is trying to find him for one reason or another.

 Renalt knows his time is limited, but he has utterly rejected his deep one heritage, drifting from town to town as far away from the coast as his sanity will allow whenever possible, living at the whim of a dice. However, as his twilight years loom, he begins stealing from repositories of occult lore, seeking an escape from his inevitable transformation.

 Making a bet with a dragon is a risky proposition in even the best of cases, but is particularly dangerous with a savage dragon like a scitalis. But that’s exactly what Balak Chipped-Dice did, and now the serpentine creature aims to collect, boldly venturing into civilized lands to do so.