Molding the Intangible. (open illusion training)

[Evil Hobgoblin]

In Bast, there was a large hall, adorned with mirrors. There were tall mirrors, fat mirrors, squat mirrors, wavy mirrors, mirrors of all kinds.

The room was cold, so Hob built a fire in the firepit. Its placement in the middle of the room meant that, in each mirror, light began to flicker.

The dwarf nodded as the fire grew, then stood alongside it. As the flame began to billow out, his hands caught the air nearby. They guided it, stretching and smoothing the flame as a sculptor works with clay. Some of the smoke he placed here and there, giving his creation additional touches. When it was done, Hob stepped back.

A horse made of flame with wispy smoke clouds for a mane and tail and soot for hooves stood proudly. It neighed and tossed its hair about.

Hob nodded in agreement.

[Kar'h'tzen Shaed]

Hob was not alone... but of course, he knew that already. Somehow he always knew. Kar'h'tzen Shaed had a knack for roaming about unseen and unfelt, but perhaps it was more due to the fact that few were able to truly See and Feel than that he was exceptionally good at what he did.

None of this explained why he'd shadowed Hob today. Put that one down to "idle curiousity", Shaed supposed.

He watched Hob's creation take form and substance - more of the former than the latter, naturally. Illusions are ever so.

[SashaKovalev]

Sasha had avoided this hall. It wasnt a fear of mirrors, but rather his lack of satisfaction with himself. There was much that he desired to accomplish and it annoyed him to no end that his life was not advancing quite so quickly as he might have preferred.

And he did not want to look in the mirrors to see the image that stared back at him, for what his critical eyes saw in the mirror was exactly what he was - a kid just over twenty or so beginning a new path in life. His critical eyes gave little credit to that kid who had worked so hard to gain rank of knight within the Sith Order, gave little credit to a kid who had dared to look deep within himself to go in search of what he desired. No, what he saw in the mirror was proof that he wasnt what he wanted to be.

What he wanted to be, what he wanted to see was a seasoned warrior. A skilled master of the dark side.

And not seeing this, he preferred not to look at all.

He had been within the halls of Bast Castle for some time now, but he had yet been summoned by any of the members for training. And so he chose to seek them out. The halls were eerily quiet this day, as if most of the inhabitants had passed from the living into a deep coma, or were simply not there at all.

He would have passed by the mirrored hall, only upon nearing this room, the odor of smoke and the crackling of a fire had stopped him in his tracks. Nothing felt wrong to him, but it was odd to feel the presence of another in the mirrored hall. No one had ever been there when he'd passed it before.

And so it was that he decided to step inside.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

(ooc) I am going ahead anyway, in spite of some slow people who said they'd post, but haven't!!! *Glare.*

(ic)

Although Hob had sensed neither Shaed nor Sasha, it was not for failure on his part. Rather, he had not applied the effort to be aware of his surroundings and chose instead to focus on what he was doing.

Still, only so much stealth can be kept when entering a room littered with mirrors.

"How long ye've been there, it matters not," Hob said, turning to face the pair. "Whyfor d'ye come here?"

[Zasz Grimm]

"To learn, Master. Why else?"

Zasz Grimm stepped from the shadows, his blood red pupils on the short figure of his master. He watched him, as he had been watching him for a few moments in the shadows.

His creation was indeed awe-inspiring. He looked at it, then back to Hobgoblin.

[SashaKovalev]

The sight Sasha saw upon entering the room had been an interesting one to say the least. A horse made of flame was neighing and tossing about its mane of smoke clouds.

For a moment Sasha had paused, an eyebrow raised as if thinking that certainly a master such as Hob had better things to do with his time than to play with fire. But then, Hob seemed somewhat ancient to Sasha, and the young kid figured that perhaps when he got that old, he too would find enough boredom with the galaxy that molding horses from fire would become amusing.

He’d watched for a few moments, content to observe until Hob had questioned his presence – and as he realized it, the presence of two others as well.

He had not yet met the one who’d spoken, and the presence of the one yet to be seen was not familiar to him either. But the words of Zasz seemed to work well enough for him, and he shrugged and nodded somewhat in agreement.

“Same thing, I guess….” He replied, his gaze moving from Zasz back to Hob.

“That and its kind of hard to ignore smoke drifting from one of the castle rooms…” He added, the hint of a grin appearing on his otherwise serious expression.

[Kar'h'tzen Shaed]

Shaed wondered what creature the creation of Hob was modeled after. It was similar in size and shape to many types of mammals in the galaxy, but exactly like none Shaed was aware of. It was all the more impressive for it, though. An imagination helped you survive where others would die.

"Just curious," he answered Hob. The apparation was curious, Hobgoblin was curious... this whole place was curious, and so was he. It wasn't a very good answer.

He stayed in the shadows of a doorway, away from the mirrors, noting the other two members of the Hand. One perhaps an equal, but the other one was certainly a lesser... Finger. Ah, Fingers all. But who's was the Hand? Who controlled it, hm?

Shaed was not as adept at physical manifestations of illusions as Hobgoblin, no, not by far. He toyed about with the one... his name... he was named Sasha... he probed shallowly about in that one's mind, not noticeably so. But now, from Sasha's point of view, there was a second flaming horse right behind him that could only be seen through the mirrors, not in reality. He did the same to Grimm's mind. Light visual stimulus, nothing at all harmful or very intrusive. Phantoms in the mirrors.

He couldn't bring himself to try it with Hobgoblin. He did not deny to himself that he feared to even attempt that.

[SashaKovalev]

Violet eyes narrowed. Though it was shallow and relatively non-intrusive, he bristled at the attempt to probe his mind. He had been knighted some time ago within the Sith Order and was advanced enough in his training to be able to notice any sort of intrusion upon his thoughts. Within the walls of Bast Castle, he had been he had been in a state of constant alert, for there were many members he had never met, and several that he didn’t trust. And this was exactly the reason why. An intrusion, as subtle as it was, seemed to indicate a lack of respect for him. And this annoyed him.

This brief moment of anger as it flashed through him concentrated on the intrusion, lowered his guard enough for him to be fooled for a moment by the second flaming horse. He saw t in the mirrors, seemingly behind him, yet as he looked, it was not there.

A scowl crossed his features, his quick temper flaring. His gaze was then directed toward the shadows, staring for a moment as if in warning or perhaps challenge before he looked away, direction his attention back to the master of illusion.

[Evil Hobgoblin]

Hob raised his hand and gave it a curious twist. Shaed's body flung itself from the doorway to land at Hob's feet. As the young apprentice coughed and looked up, he found Hob looking down at him. "This is not a time for games," he growled.

A clawed hand reached down and lifted Shaed's chin; his hands found purchase and held him up, but the claw tips of Hob's fingers were sharp. "You are here, now. You will learn."

The hand dropped the chin and Hob turned away from Shaed to his illusion. Hob snorted and the horse broke apart into wisps of flame that died down to the height of the original fire.

Hob closed his eyes and lifted his face upward, sightlessly staring at nothing. From the fire, three balls of flame rose and moved to hover in front of Sasha, Zasz, and Shaed. Then he opened his eyes.

The fireballs stayed put.

"They are real," he said. "And they will burn. And they will explode if not controlled. You each have five minutes to take them from me. Or, ye'll be burned, lads. Burned well an' truly, don't y'know?"

[SashaKovalev]

Sasha had watched the proceedings with Hob and Shaed, the serious expression never leaving his face. He might have found a slight sense of satisfaction, but this was not revealed in any sense. He realized it could just as easily have been him, not Shaed at Hob’s feet. He had that much humility.

As the balls of fire rose from the flames, his gaze settled on the one that had come to hover before him. He could feel its heat, real or imagined and violet eyes stared into it, through it, consumed as some are by licking flames.

The instructions were simple enough, yet Sasha had been through enough trials to know that nothing was ever quite so easy as it might look. And he wasn’t exactly looking forward to nursing burn wounds that evening.

He had, from time to time, toyed with the elements. Water had been his favorite, for he’d spent countless hours in the gardens of the Sith Order, staring out at the water of the lake and willing it to do his bidding.

Fire, he knew to be a bit trickier, with its crackling and hissing and spontaneous combustions. Fire had to be coaxed, and for one who was often impatient as he was, fire was easy to create and difficult to control.

But control was something he had been working on for years now, and so it was nothing new that this exercise would include it as well. For some time, he’d balked at the idea of having to learn control – over emotions, over his use of the force - in time he had accepted it, understanding it to be essential to mastering the power of the dark side. And if only, if only he could master them both.

For the time being, he forgot those who were near him and concentrated fully on the ball of fire before him. Through the force, he reached out, simply trying to get a feel for the ball of fire.

One moment it seemed solid, more easily manipulated and the next it seemed to break apart, the tiny particles of energy seeking to escape and cause damage. He could have sworn he’d seen in them in this moment the creation of a face, mocking him and his efforts. It would not be an easy task.

He sought to keep the particles close to one another – not so close that they had no room to wiggle for this surely would bring about an explosion, but close enough that they resembled a ball and not the mocking expression of loose particles.

And once he had gathered them – or when it had seemed he had gathered them – he took a step back, gently tugging it toward him, testing the hold Hob had over it, and his own control over the dangerous sphere.

[Kar'h'tzen Shaed]

OOC: It's been three months... I think my five minutes have run out by now. ;) Well, I just wanted to post this anyway... don't feel that there's a need to keep the thread going if no one else wants to anymore because I posted, though.

IC:
Shaed coughed, and blinked rapidly behind his goggles as he pulled himself back to his feet. The stinging sensation under his chin paled in comparison to what his pride was feeling, beneath his chest. Though caught completely unawares and off-balance, he hadn't noticed any change in Sasha's demeanor... not even the slightest bit of satisfaction radiated out of his essence. It annoyed Shaed incredibly that he had more control over his emotions. Quickly, he half-heartedly attempted to squelch his own - and then realized that everything had happened so fast, his emotions hadn't actually progressed past the "shocked and surprised" stage. Apparently his pride was still concealed, even if anyone could see it written on his face. It would have to do.

Three similar balls of flame rose out of the crackling firepit, one of them coming to rest in the air between himself and Hob. Hearing the dimunitive being's orders, Shaed hoped that the task wouldn't be too difficult. He wasn't particularly fond of fire, or burning alive for that matter. Fortunately, he had excellent contro... the image of himself, falling to the ground in front of Hob sprung into his mind. Shaed's face fell a little more, considering the swirling spheres of fire.

The world around him fell away, the flickering flames before him seeming to swell in size, contrast, and sharpness. Shaed felt the atoms of the air the flames were made of go spinning by, around and around and crashing into each other and off again in infinite directions at incredible speeds. Focusing more clearly, the particles began to slow, until he was able to track their movements separately. There was definitely something odd, in the middle of the fiery display, which he didn't understand... but could feel was connected to the intricate dance of the fire. If he disturbed that dance too much... well, judging by Hob's statement, he was pretty sure what would happen next.

A solution, being an action he was naturally inclined to perform anyway, immediately sprang to mind. He tagged a couple of atoms, getting the feel of their random actions, and then - since doing it individually would have taken hours, in addition to giving him a headache - started grasping entire groups of them. The motion of fire being almost completely erratic - flames, by their very nature, turning the atoms in their tips back to normal air molecules, and replenishing themselves with new molecules at their bases - Shaed eventually got ahold of the entire ball (being wary off the... odd... parts, and not interrupting the fireball's processes), by grasping the feel of the in-use atoms, not each actual atom itself. A few minutes had trickled by, but the hardest part was done.

The dance had no rythym to it, but Shaed was on-beat - so to speak - anyway. He began to slow the tempo down, preferring that to trying to move the fireball - fearing Hob might try to prevent that noticable and obvious an attempt at wresting it away. The fireball, to a non-Force Sensitive's eyes, was getting redder and producing less heat but otherwise not changing. Strangely - or so it would appear to that imaginary observer - it soon dissappeared altogether, although it still was producing a small amount of heat. In truth, the dance still existed - it was just too slow to produce actual flame. A few more seconds went by, and the air molecules began to move slower than the ones outside of the dance's sphere of influence. A hand, thrust inside that patch of air, would have noticed a definite chill - and, of course, severely disturbed the dance and sparked off an explosion that would have instantaneously returned pieces of the dance to almost their original speed and fury, scorching an unfortunate tall, pale man standing nearby in the process.

Hob's control over the sphere of air was much more limited than it had been. Shaed had begun to feel the man's control over it, and had oozed in and snapped the cords of influence as he grasped the shape and rythym of the dance.

Shaed kept up his effort... and the water molecules in the air, trapped by the dance, began to crystalize from the cold. The last threads of Hob's control that Shaed had noticed fell away. He half-expected Hob to cause the thin, icy lattice that was once a ball of fire to explode anyway, but that would probably only get Shaed damp at this point.