Saturday, 8 September 2012

Vulpin.


Vulpin Rogue was sitting in the tree, and she had been for almost an hour. She also didn’t plan on moving, as long as those three-dozen Hollow Men were still below her. She was scowling, partially because this wasn’t her kind of thing. This was the kind of thing Sparky or Hayley would take in their stride. Or even one of Sparky’s friends. But not her, she wasn’t cut out for this. Naturally, she was unarmed and, as per usual, her complete lack of control over her magic was not making her life any easier. She concentrated on her magic again and snarled, gripping the branch of the tree tighter. Unlike most other people, she, as a novice user of magic, had to be panicked to use her magic, rather than calm. She was perfectly calm, it’s not like the Hollow Men could get her. Her stomach lurched, and her whole face lit up, and then the feeling died down and she almost roared with frustration.
Okay, okay… I need to be panicked to use my magic, but I’m not. If I jump down there, I’ll certainly be panicked, but there’s no guarantee that my magic will save me, because it doesn’t even work that reliably…” She grabbed the trunk of the tree as tightly as she could and stood up slowly. Her pulse raced as the ground stretched away from her. She hated heights. They made her feel sick. She figured, if she jumped onto one of them, she could go down fighting if her magic didn’t kick in.
‘Here goes.’ She mumbled. She jumped and her boots connected with a Hollow Man’s back, and as they did, its papery skin tore and the putrid gas that inflated it billowed into her face. She stumbled back and tried to stop her eyes from watering. A fist like cement slammed into her head, and her world became stars. She lashed out, not even scraping a thing. She cursed and opened her eyes as another fist swung into her gut. She lifted a few centimetres off the ground and got sent back. She hit the ground and rolled. A Hollow Man stomped on her leg and she cried out. She curled into a foetal position and moaned. Her magic hadn’t worked, the odds were against her and, most importantly, she was going to die. She tried again the use her magic, and her gut lurched and her Gist emerged, growling and ready to wreck havoc. The Gist danced around, laughing with pleasure at being let out. Vulpin got to her feet and spared a moment to watch it tear around. She then gritted her teeth and drew the creature back. It screamed with anguish, unwilling to return to its host. Vulpin fought to get it back, but got the job down. She allowed herself a small smile as she compared her Gist to Dark Jak and sighed. Now. Back to her jog.


Ah, this piece was completely for fun. I'd been trying to figure out a way to reveal Alfred's magic, so I just wrote this.

Completed.

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