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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 8, 2012 0:19:26 GMT -5
"Very good. Now maintain it, and cease diverting your attention by stopping to marvel at it."
At least he wasn't fleeing from it. But a lapse in concentration could do worse than stop the phenomenon altogether -- change it from merely a radiance to a white-hot blaze, for instance. Better to start him on something like this, which was combat-ready but contained, rather than the untidy business of ill wishes and curses.
"Beautiful as it may be. Stronger now, Tybalt."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 8, 2012 0:28:43 GMT -5
Tybalt took a breath. "Yes, my lord."
He repeated it. And again. He was poor at this, he knew, and that knowledge was clearly beginning to shake any confidence he gained from Doom's confidence in him.
Also, athough he did not know if this was usual or common, his palms were beginning to hurt, to chafe from beginning this over and over again. "Is it supposed to hurt?" Tybalt asked in frustration after ceasing, in spite of having been able to hold concentration long enough to allow the flame to expand over the entire palm, reaching nearly the tips of his fingers.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 8, 2012 23:29:33 GMT -5
"Only at first."
His fingers itched with pent-up magic, the desire to outstrip his protegé's meager demonstrations by a hundred times, a hundred thousand. But this had to be seen through. Doom stalked around behind him, with curious grace despite the weight of his armor, and fastened a hand around Tybalt's dominant forearm.
"Hold it fast in your mind, and do not be nervous."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 8, 2012 23:38:18 GMT -5
He sucked a breath in through his teeth, eyes briefly widening, fighting the desire to tilt into it somehow. Yet in spite of the obvious distraction this was somehow leveling, allowing him greater focus - perhaps because he knew what Doom willed more clearly in this moment, and felt more determined than ever to achieve it.
He repeated the gesture, spoke again the incantation, and a light grew at his palm, beginning no more than a pale-as-dawn bud, and blooming until light - and power - bled from between his fingers. He himself was shocked by the swiftness of this, but he would not fail Doom this time by stopping to gawk. He forced himself to think not on what happened but to merely remain as he was and attempt to channel greater power. It felt as though he was not summoning magic on his own, but rather doing it for Doom; that his own body was a tool for Doom to use, and that Doom did not require Tybalt's own thoughts, particularly not when they were weak and alarmed.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 8, 2012 23:46:50 GMT -5
"Yes--"
Victor was barely aware that he had spoken. He felt an unbidden thread of power throbbing in his own arm, trying to bridge the barrier of his gauntlet and join with Tybalt's. That would have been most irregular, but it was so satisfying to see such progress.
"Good. Steady now."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 8, 2012 23:53:49 GMT -5
Tybalt grit his teeth. He was starting to break into a sweat; he had never held the power for this long.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 8, 2012 23:57:48 GMT -5
"How is it feeling?"
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 9, 2012 0:00:21 GMT -5
"-it's - it's beginning to- it's beginning to hurt, my lord-"
It wasn't quite a pain, and he felt like a stupid child just asking to have its ears bashed for saying that. It was like that feeling from when one's hand had fallen asleep, deeply unpleasant but not truly painful.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 9, 2012 0:07:16 GMT -5
His breaths came rather heavy, almost petulant sighs were he not such a lofty-minded man. Simply being in proximity to someone who exerted himself so rawly made him feel like an untested boy again, panting and shivering at the sight of his own achievement. And it was absurd, from a man with oceans of power, always acquiring more, but it was vicariously thrilling.
"Continue -- more gently. Doom does not desire to see you injured."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 9, 2012 0:10:22 GMT -5
Distracting and yet not- the sudden thrill of realizing that he could hear, through the grill of the mask, Doom's heavy breathing (like hearing breath from a stone, really), only intensified the feel of the magic. To Tybalt's near shock it seemed not like some intangible cloudburst but almost was rapidly gaining density; his arms ached to hold it.
"Show me how to be gentle, my lord-" he pleaded desperately. "I don't know what I'm doing-"
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 9, 2012 13:47:56 GMT -5
It was strange to think that this was not such an intuitive process for other men. His grip tightened.
"Be firm, continue as you were--"
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 9, 2012 14:30:09 GMT -5
Tybalt breathed in shakily, and glanced back at Doom trustingly and nodded.
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 9, 2012 16:10:30 GMT -5
"Close your eyes and let it happen."
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Post by Tybalt on Jan 9, 2012 18:12:34 GMT -5
It took a moment for Tybalt to comply, just a few doubtful seconds of fear before he did exactly as commanded, letting free will - whatever small amount of it he ever allowed himself - crumple by the wayside.
The tingling feeling spread across his chest and down his other arm, but it ceased to feel painful. The light against his eyelids told him that the light itself had spread. Tybalt was terrified in the small portion of his brain that still allowed for original thought, but if he were in danger it was as Doom willed and he would put himself into danger for his sovereign if it was as he wished to use him. (As usual, it did not occur to Tybalt that his own safety might be a desire of the authority he served, which was a sad thing in and of itself.)
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Post by Victor von Doom on Jan 9, 2012 18:23:19 GMT -5
Light was easiest, but it could too quickly become heat. He relinquished his grip on him in order to get an unrestricted view, and indeed the energy surging from him was brilliant, very clear and very fair. It hurt to look directly at it, and even sideways glances almost made his eyes water.
"Most satisfactory, Tybalt, very fine--"
Now he must stop. That was enough for one session. But gradually.
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