Awakening

[Morven]

He was remarkably humble, which was probably fortunate given his position, but also highly unusual. Morven hadn’t come here bristling, but she had been ready and expecting to need to prove something. Her whole life she had come across that wall again and again, and by now it was second nature to fight for her place. But if anything, it was her doing the judging of his character, not the other way around. She respected his motivations, realised immediately that this was a man she could follow. But she understood the resentments of the ranks a little now too. No man who desired power for himself, or felt that it was his due, would easily suffer a man like Michael in charge. As the Garden continued to grow, he might have a need to watch his back.

“You’re different from your reputation,” she conceded. Her eyes narrowed, but it was only in tease. Ultimately Morven would do as she was ordered, though she was unlikely to ever hold her tongue from speaking her mind, whatever the consequence. Since by now it seemed apparent he wasn’t going to insist on formality she wouldn’t waste time on it either, though in that case she found his manners lacking, for not even having thought to offer her a seat.

“Oh aye, you don’t get rid of me that easily.” When she moved it was like a lioness. The office was pretty spartan, and it was the edge of his desk she leaned against. She’d asked for this opportunity, and she wouldn’t squander it. When the shit hit the fan – either because the Atharim got their shit together, or the wrong person decided to make a play for power – she knew where she wanted to be. “I won’t let this world burn,” she said. “Teaching bairns to be safe is important. I wouldnae let a girl die. But believe me when I say there are others out there already doing that work.” She half raised a brow, but spilling Network secrets would be stupid. The Custody had been slow. Even the Ascendancy had admitted that not too long ago he did not even know women could wield the power.

“It’s exactly the al’Hasans of this world that concern me. The Theo Andlains. Creatures like the ijiraq, and the woman at the fundraiser ball. The people it’s already too late to teach to be safe. Not to mention the goddamn snakes.” She spoke with passion, a resolution not easily turned aside. “It’s those like you and I who will stand before the chaos, so that others may be safe. The world is changing too quickly to do it peacefully, and I intend to be ready to protect it. I’ll do as you bid, but that’s why I came here. To discover how we may work together.”

[[thanks ]]

[Michael Vellas]

Michael did smile now that Morven had shown some of her character. "My reputation is well earned," he replied. "I was full of rage, but now that I am not in imminent danger from assassination, I feel more...myself again. If you were a man, your opinion might differ. I assume that women are similar in each individual is capable of using different amounts of our Power? It is the case for men. Some can hold only a little and struggle to light a candle. None of the Rods of Dominion nor any other man here can even come close to what I can use. There is only one man I have met that has more. Nikolai Brandon himself, and not by much. It also helps that my skill lies in destruction and combat. A necessity from when I was newly appointed and had no authority nor respect. The Rods as they are called now, were my first students. I made sure they knew not to do anything stupid. Now, I need only display some reminders and rumors take care of the rest."

He could not be sure of Morven's sincerity, but Nikolai had sent her, and from the snippets of information and what he had seen thus far, she did not seem the type for sycophancy. In truth, he saw much of himself - or what he wished to be - in her. Just like there was an instinctive dislike of Nikolai himself - one that he could not rationally explain - there was a type of affinity he felt with Morven. It was perhaps something of the Power itself. It lent to enhanced senses, why not this? "That is good to hear, I see perhaps why the Ascendancy sent you to me. We desire the same thing, and I believe that he does as well. I cannot watch the world turn to senseless murder, be it from arrogant godlings or the Atharim scourge. Now, I no longer need to hide in fear." 

At the mention of the Ijiraq, Michael let his distaste be known. "Damn Ijiraqs. I met one in the middle east, although I did not know what it was at the time. I could have used power Healing, damn thing put a hand through my chest. I paid it back, but we both live. I have since developed defenses against their kind. Safe to say everyone in the Garden would know if one came within ten miles. My other affinity besides death, protections. I spin webs of power like a spider, to trap or alert," he did not trust her that much as to reveal the new webs he had been developing, not that he could teach it. 

He shook his head slightly. That was getting off topic but he did so hate those mist monsters. "Very well, do you feel up to some experimentation?" Michael had been keen to do so since the moment he knew women had a similar power. "We cannot see each other's webs, but can they interact? I would like to test it. If you would, lift me off the ground with a web of air. I would like to see if I can cut it, as I would do with a man" It wasn't exactly a command as he drew in the Power and raised a brow. "Unless you already know the answer. Or if you prefer to get settled, I have arranged quarters for you." 

[Morven]

In other circumstances, or if she’d known him better, she might have snickered at the description he gave. As it was she kept the smirk to herself, and simply listened. She knew some of the differences from Soren, but only insofar as it had been useful for him, or as an excuse to dodge her questions. He’d never mentioned his understanding of the power in other men, and she’d never thought to ask, but Michael seemed to infer it to be something that only enforced his fearsome reputation. Fortunately for him Morven would be under no such bias.

“Good to know,” she said, concerning the creature that had attacked at the ball. Rykovi mentioned something vague about research but had spent most of his explanation swooning over Nox Durante and his witness of the whole ordeal. Morven was relieved to hear of actual practical defences in place, given it had breached the Ascendancy’s own guard. She’d never encountered an ijiraq herself. She’s never encountered anything like that herself. Unless you included her sister, which the Atharim clearly did, but Lyall was something entirely different.

She shifted to sit on the desk. Quarters remedied the faff of travelling between here and the Facility, and since it was likely to be as basic as her room there, she was in no rush. Instead she grinned at the raised brow. Manhandling was not in her usual repertoire as a doctor, and the last time she puppeted a man from the ground it had been to tear him apart in uncontrolled rage. But more than seven years passed since her spark to power, and she drew it smoothly now, to do as he bid, curious to see what would happen.

[Michael Vellas]

He noted the fact that Morven didn't answer his questions, nor was she forthcoming about her own experiences. Well, so be it. In truth, he was simply happy to have someone to talk to as an equal. His loquaciousness surprised him, and it was a sign that perhaps he needed to get away from the Garden for a time. The constant need to assert his own power to keep arrogant students in line grew tiresome. 

Indeed, it seemed as if Morven did not care, and he did not see why she should. The matter of power could be inconsequential between men and women. Too many things I don't know. Too many things that can get me killed. 

Soon the thoughts drifted away as Morven smiled. He felt a shiver of anticipation, the hair on arms and neck standing on end. She did not seem to notice he held the Power, and he could not sense anything from her. He felt a little foolish until an invisible force gripped him and forced him into the air. His eyes narrowed momentarily. There was nothing to see nor did he feel any kind of power. Carefully, he reached out with threads of Spirit towards the points he could feel lifting him up. Curiously, it seemed as if he hit an unseen wall. He extended his web further to trace what must have been Morven's own. 

He spent a moment prodding the invisible web, watching Morven for any reaction. His brow creased and spun a scythe of spirit, fire and earth, swinging down. He dropped from the air as he cut through the web with surprising ease. He had no idea how much power would be necessary so erred on the side of caution. He grunted. "Huh, I see." 

Before he could do much more, he felt another web take hold of him, this time stronger. His gaze locked with Morven's and he smiled. "Finally, a reaction. I thought you were as stoic as a stone." More resistant than the first, Michael nonetheless cut through Morven's web without issue. 

"Well, that answers one question. Did you use all of your power?" he mused then cocked his head. "What did you feel?" 


[Mode with permission]

[Morven]

There was something pretty satisfying in using the Power to hoik a man up in the air, especially after he’d just spent quite a lot of his breath explaining the manner of his strength. Not that Michael had been boastful at all. He was just spitting facts. But still, Morven enjoyed the moment.

Beyond the intensity of what she presumed to be concentration, there was no indication of anything he did. No glow. No sense of anything at all. But she was used to both things when observing Sören, and hadn’t expected to see anything to indicate whether he was reacting. That was about where her knowledge ended though. The north man was a cagey prick, for all that he once saved her life.

The cut was clean, like a sudden release of pressure.

Even prepared for something to happen, she blinked in surprise when it did. Threads spun anew before he had much chance to react, with more force than before; a little more testing in nature, but apparently no more difficult to circumvent now he knew what he was doing. Fired with competitiveness, she might have tried for a third had he not spoken, and she found herself laughing at the unlikely accusation instead, throaty and unabashed. “Aye, well, best behaviour, ye ken? Trying for a favourable first impression before you discover exactly who you signed yourself up to work with.”

“So you couldnae tell the strength? Guess the measuring doesn’t work so well against a woman.” Truthfully she’d never really considered strength at all, her own or another's, so much as the complex patterns needed to achieve whatever she intended. Most of her experience was in intricacy. Reaching out into the power until it burned didn’t seem like a good idea.

“I used what felt enough. Dinae see anything of what you did. Dinae feel anything either, apart from the cut. The threads bounced back at me. How’d you know where to cut?” She paused, brows raised, and grinned. “And just so you know, Vellas, I usually expect dinner before I let a man tie me up.”

[Michael Vellas]

As Morven grinned, Michael fell still for a split second and his eyes widened. Fortunately the void was close and nothing else betrayed his thoughts. Within the shell of emptiness where the Power dwelled, he saw her for the first time, as a woman. She was certainly beautiful enough to make any man nervous. When was the last time I looked at anyone as a person? The thought saddened him. His rage at his own powerlessness had been almost all consuming for years. 

After the moment's pause another smile broke his face. Not one of challenge, or irony but genuine amusement. "My manners have been lacking, I apologize, although I warn you I can't cook." Absently, he snatched up the empty chair with the Power and placed it gently across from his own and the desk before taking a seat for himself. 

"As for how I knew, I could feel the effects of the web, and I imagined what I would do. It is a simple web of Air, the effects are the same, surely it could not be too different. I used threads of Spirit - that's what my mentor called it, primal energy or something - to probe where I could feel the web physically and felt an invisible force - your own web it seems - and followed it to the point it stemmed from you. Then I cut through it," he explained. 

"I wanted to know if strength mattered between men and women, but I cannot tell. I have found that the more power used in webs like this, the harder it is to cut through. I suppose it is like resisting a physical attack, the stronger the grip, the harder to escape. It is the same when cutting of a man's access to the Power. If they are strong enough, they can break free - or they will be able to resist. I thought that the both of us may wish to know how it works between genders," he finished. "Do you wish me to use a web so that you can cut one yourself? You can choose something more to your taste, I couldn't ask to tie you up." 

[Morven]

Her remark had been in ribald humour, though she couldn’t quite discern from his reaction if he actually got the joke. But his reply about dinner did earn him a languid look from top to toe and back, and her amusement lingered as she slid into the pulled-out seat. Though Morven possessed an iron professionalism for when she needed it, little about her was ever subtle: she’d quite clearly looked him over anew. “I accept,” she said, momentarily leaning in across the desk, still grinning with the glittery-eyed look of a cat who’d discovered the unexpected boon of a mouse in its paws.

“Your theory seems sound to me,” she added a moment later. Her own experiences suggested the power was confined by at least some physical laws, and his analogies made sense. Which meant it stood to reason that if he was as strong as he claimed, she was unlikely to have as easy a time cutting through his work. In the circumstance humility didn’t appeal – not necessarily because she might fail, but because she suspected he might pull his punches. “I use the same thread a lot with patients, both diagnostically, and in speeding up the healing process. Never considered it for a scythe.”

Throaty rich laughter met the apparent chivalry. Morven didn’t have many delicate sensibilities, but she was at least mindful that he did. She very much doubted this was a consideration with his regular students. Elbow rested on the desk between them, she offered her arm out, wrist up, for him to restrain however he saw fit. “Aye, might as well test the theory of strength. Don’t be shy now. I think you’ll have the right of it though.” She watched him meanwhile, and continued speaking, since the task would not be taxing on him and she would feel when she could begin her own exploration. “Either way it proves interaction is possible between the different powers. There must also be a way to work them together.”

[Michael Vellas]

Michael found himself nodding and excitement growing as his mind filtered the possibilities that popped into his head. Almost offhandedly he noticed the shift in her demeanour. Something for later. Now, he had possibilities to explore. "I have been shown how to Heal, but it is beyond me, even though I can spin webs of greater complexity with relative ease. I suspect that there is more to this than power and practice, but that can wait..." he trailed off.  

Michael hesitated for a second. Morven didn't seem fragile, but using his full power seemed...excessive. He shrugged the thought away and began to spin a web of air. "Well, be prepared. It is somewhat disconcerting," he warned her with a small grin as the web came together and wrapped itself around Morven. He put most of his power into the web making it almost opaque. Morven's feet left the ground and Michael held steady, curious as to how Morven handled herself and what her Power could do. 

[M: Sorry it isn't detailed, I have been distracted lately.]

[Morven]

She’d intended that he restrain her arm, but since it had been an offer made to pander to Michael’s sensibilities, she did not complain that he misunderstood. Morven’s eyes widened when her feet left the floor, but it was her own animal instinct to fight that arrested her most, even though she knew this was nothing but the sterility of investigation – and one she had consented to. But though there was no threat, she discovered she did not like the feeling of helplessness, not at all, and it flashed volatility through her gaze before she turned her attention to the power molten in her veins.

Morven explored in the same way he had explained it – that at least felt similar, a force sensed more in its absence than any clear understanding of his power. Then she attempted a blunt scythe to satisfy his scientific interest in the comparison, unsurprised when it rebounded to little real effect. She looked to see whether he had felt anything, but didn’t voice the attempt – she hated the idea of being outmatched, even if it was only to test his theories.

That settled, she thought about it the same way she met the unique challenges of her patients in the emergency room. The power was a tool like any other, and must be used in the right way to reap the biggest benefits. It took all her concentration, and was not as easy as she might have hoped, but stubborn resolve propelled her though. She was fast with dextrous weaving; she’d learned to be, when seconds marked the distinction between living and not.

Still, it was an effort – far more than it had appeared to be for him. Though breaking free did come with satisfaction, whatever the toll.

“Now you definitely owe me dinner,” she said, and grinned, brushing herself off.

[Michael Vellas]

Michael saw the briefest flash of fire in her eyes that spoke of danger as he lifted her into the air. His pulse quickened and hairs stood on end, the promise of retribution, of challenge calling to his own blood. He then closed his eyes. Dangerous in the case of a man, but he could not see what Morven spun. Perhaps he might sense it.

The first blow came unexpected, forcing a faint grunt as Morven's web battered his own. She had not compared strength with other women, apparently, but it was interesting to note that however strong she was, it seemed that it at least partially translated. It was good to know at least one thing was similar.

The next blow was less of a scythe and more of a scalpel, parting his web without warning. His eyes darted open, impressed at the precision of the cut. Few men could do that to him, and never a second time unless caught by surprise. He gazed at her triumphant grin with a new layer of respect.

"I don't suppose the fact that I technically have all of your meals made counts?" he asked with a whisper of his own smile. "Very well then, dinner it shall be."

His smile widened a fraction, although it was almost impossible to tell. "And Morven. Try not to scare my men too much."