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Ask to Join Canvalus: The World of Magical Arts

Discussion in 'General Role Play' started by Gamefreak1996, Jul 18, 2018.

  1. Link to Discussion: https://pokecharms.com/threads/canvalus-the-world-of-magical-arts-discussion-sign-ups.19621/

    Radiant beams of sunlight shone through the window of the small apartment, resting their touch on the sleeping individual's face as he groaned drowsily. Muttering something incomprehensible, he turned over in his makeshift bed and grabbed his hat as he sat up.

    Jacques felt a little stiff in the neck as he ate his bargain-brand cereal breakfast. He had spent last night finishing up some orders from his website. Said orders were now tucked in boxes and waiting by the door. Once he had finished eating, was dressed, and was ready to go, he slung his backpack over his shoulder, tucked his phone in his pocket, grabbed the orders he needed to deliver, and stepped outside.

    Climbing onto the balcony and balancing on the rails, Jacques took a moment to savor that nice morning breeze before leaning forward and falling. As he fell, he held his hand out and a cord of silver threads fired from the palm of his hand, formed by his Essence, his magic energy. As the cord latched onto a rooftop, it reeled him in quickly, launching him over the ledge. Landing in a run, he quickly fired his next thread shot before bounding off the opposite side, smile widening as he felt the wind rush past him.
     
  2. It was a brilliant morning to paint a masterpiece. The sun hit her canvas in the perfect spot, and the plaza in town had the best painting supplies for her to work with. Sure, she could make her own paint and control it to her will, but having supplies to work with never hurt anyone.

    Canvalus was a world of art and Talents. Sylvia knew this. Where they lived, Xandrite City, they had the choice of doing whatever they wished. Money wasn't an issue. Status wasn't that valuable, even for leaders. While yes, the world wasn't anything close to perfect, and rude magi still existed out there, they at least didn't do much crime.

    In Xandrite City, crime was a rare occurrence. Even so, the crimes were usually very small, like a robbery, some vandalism (not that rude, but not on their own property, either), and occasionally a fight on the streets (mostly between children; it's usually something very minor). Not many people are involved or hurt in such crimes, either. The most someone does during a robbery is steal some art supplies from a shop that doesn't cost that much. The conflicts are usually resolved with the robber replacing the item they stole and dealing with a reasonable punishment in order to learn their lesson. When someone vandalizes someone else's property, it usually isn't out of disrespect, and in order to make up for it, they clean it off and go home for the day. As for the fights, that's a little bit more major than everything else that happened. The children that fight are typically teenagers, who have some type of Martial Arts talent. Still, they make up, do some community service, and it's all solved.

    Thankfully for Sylvia, she knew which streets housed mostly Martial Artists and tended to avoid them for her own safety. She had nothing against martial artists, of course, she just didn't want to bust anything. The Alexandrite Plaza, however, was a place for everyone to get together. There were fighting rings for martial artists, canvases, machines, and all sorts of other creative practice areas for people to freely use their Talents. In Sylvia's case, that Talent was painting.

    Her brother and sister would usually have come with, but Sylvia's sister, Lucy, was at home, baking some cookies with her mom. As for Jack, he was out at dance lessons.

    The thing about Xandrite City is that there are no road vehicles. Vehicles like cars, buses, trains, etc. are only used for long distance travel; everyone goes everywhere by foot. No one gets run over by cars, people slow down and enjoy the view of the world, and everyone is able to communicate freely among themselves.

    Sylvia adjusted her pink hair into a low ponytail before beginning her work. Her hands skillfully bent, flowed, and extended until her hands were coated in blue paint. As her canvas was already pre-primed before she came, she was already good to go, painting the whole canvas blue. While her paint dried up quickly, she re-coated her hands in blue paint, adding another layer. Once the third layer was added, she was ready to begin her masterpiece.
     
  3. Once he had finished his deliveries, Jacques checked his watch and nodded. Seems I have a little time to kill before heading to school. he thought to himself as he swung up with his threads and glided briefly over the rooftops using a pair of woven wings. Guess I'll hit the plaza for a bit. Dispelling his threads, he swung down and landed on the cobblestone pavement of the Alexandrite Plaza. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a portable mannequin and some spools of threads, set up a small workspace, and got to work on another order from his website.

    With each thread, the shape of the cloth became more and more apparent. Soon, a red sleeve was formed. Then, came part of the torso. As he worked, he began to hum a small tune to keep his mind occupied. As he was about to add the finishing touch, he heard a loud screeching sound and looked up to find a large barn owl perched on his mannequin's shoulder. "Hello, Wyzen." Jacques greeted. "Given you're here I'm assuming father sent someone else to try and bring me back." The owl simply turned his head toward a purple-haired man who was occupying one of the fighting arenas on the far side of the plaza.

    Meanwhile, the man in the arena looked around, seeming disappointed so far with his opponents. "C'mon, don't you fellas have ONE decent fighter amongst yourselves?" he barked to the surrounding crowd as he tossed his most recent, unconscious opponent off the ring and into the waiting arms of a couple of bystanders. He then spotted someone who was about to leave the plaza and smiled. "How about you?" he demanded, pointing.

    Jacques froze in place and turned around, pulling the brim of his hat over his eyes. "Sorry, no time. I've gotta get to school." he said coolly, trying to maintain his composure. Tilting his head up slightly, he got a better look at the man; tall, muscular build, tan skin, purple eyes and hair, royal blue trench coat, patched up beige pants, and a pair of loafers. Around his neck he wore a gold neck chain with an amythest amulet at the center.

    "Ah, C'mon! All I'm askin' for is a minute of light sparring." The man laughed, disregarding Jacques's words, "We don't even have to use talents if you don't wanna! Surely even a Xandrite City folk like you could manage that. Or are you afraid of breaking a nail?" The man's face curled into a smirk when he noticed the teen's face changing into irritation. "Feh. Figures. Ah, well, if you're really too much of a coward to-"

    "Fine. Let's make this quick then." Jacques said, cutting the man off. There was a menacing glint in his eyes now as he dropped his backpack and began striding toward the ring. Wyzen perched on a fence post near the girl painting, watchng the rising conflict intently.

    "That's the spirit, kid. Now get up here so I can show you how a man fights." the older fellow said, an edge of eagerness in his voice. Once they were in position, the two of them stood at opposite sides of the arena, staring each other down.
     
  4. Sylvia noticed an owl oddly perching on her easel, where she was painting. The weight didn't seem to be shifted, oddly enough, and the owl was careful to keep its claws away from her canvas, much to her surprise, so she let it slide, but still found it odd that an owl was out in public in the first place. Yeah, there were animals here and there; dogs, cats, and the occasional bird, squirrel, mouse, or the like, but an owl of all things was still fairly unusual.

    Sylvia glanced in the direction the owl was watching and recognized a classmate of hers--not Jack, since she mixed up his name with her brother's all the time--Jacques, right? Jacques, a weaver and fashion designer, she recalled. The two didn't chat too much, but they weren't on bad terms by any means. Sylvia watched him with slight worry as he took on an intimidating-looking man. "W-wait, that's Jacques, right?" she asked herself aloud, though she knew the answer. "Why's he fighting--?" She cut herself off, watching the two males with worry. She was no longer able to focus on her painting as much as she would have liked.
     
  5. The stranger tossed aside his trench coat and rolled his shoulders slightly as he grinned. Jacques simply put his hands in his pockets and carefully watched the larger man. The two stood there a few moments before the stranger catapulted off the ground, flying at Jacques like a missile. As he drew closer, the man threw a powerful jab toward the teen, which collided with the bottom of the latter's foot. As the dust from the action settled down, Jacques began pushing the man's fist back with his foot, then whipped it aside and spun around, shooting his free leg right at the challenger's face. The man staggered back a bit, a small bruise over his nose as he growled, then smiled. "Well, you seem to at least be putting up an actual fight." he chuckled.

    Jacques then took the offensive, rushing forward and delivering a sweep kick the stranger jumped over. Anticipating this, Jacques quickly spun onto his hands and pushed off the ground, delivering an upward flurry of kicks using both his legs. The stranger parried as many as he could, and eventually, when he touched down, he hopped back to gain some distance. Jacques wouldn't allow it, however, lunging in as soon as he touched down again and once more springing into a handstand. He quickly whirled around, his legs becoming like the propellor of a helicopter as he delivered kick after kick. This time, however, since he was on the ground, the challenger was more agile and kept his distance until he found an opening and delivered his own kick to the teenager's torso. Sputtering, Jacques tumbled back and let out a slight groan as he got up. "What, can't take a hit?" the stranger laughed, "Pathetic!"

    "Don't count me out just yet." Jacques muttered as he straightened up, holding his side a brief moment. That kick had done quite a bit of damage. If I take too many blows like that, I'm screwed. he calculated, I could use my threads, but that won't only go against the rule we set, but it'll hint at who I am. From what I can tell, he doesn't even know he's fighting the person he's supposed to bring back. I better keep it that way.

    The stranger, meanwhile, grinned. "That's right, ya little snot. Get back up so I can knock you back down." he taunted. He then rushed forward and began throwing more attacks, with Jacques using his legs to sidestep or parry as many as he can. However, each blow that did land felt more like a wrecking ball than a fist. Then, as the man lunged forward with a powerful blow, Jacques stepped to the side, raised his leg, and brought it crashing into the man's spine, sending him tumbling forward with a shout.

    "I think we're done here." Jacques said, hopping off the arena as the man watched after him begrudgingly. "Thanks for the match." he added as he walked away, waiting a few moments before wincing and rubbing his side a little. Light sparring, he said. nearly broke a rib in the process. He then noticed Sylvia, smiled a bit, and waved.
     
  6. Sylvia waved awkwardly, noting his clear pain. "H-hey, Jacques," she said, abandoning her canvas for a little bit and walking up to him. "A-are you okay? I can heal you, if you want." Something not many people knew about Sylvia was that the color of paint she used not only looked pretty on a canvas, it had use in combat against others. As a pacifist, she didn't like fighting others, but with enough training, she made it so that her paints could defend herself without having to harm anyone in the process. One of those effects was healing.

    Sylvia had many colors at the moment, due to her fun art project, so she picked her favorite, of course, pink, and without waiting for a response from her classmate, used green paint to root him to the ground and healed him with her rosy acrylic (which was oddly odorless and non-poisonous; could it really be called acrylic?). When she was done, all the paint surrounding Jacques was completely gone and Sylvia sighed in relief.

    "You should be more careful, y'know," she told him. "Sparring is sparring, but outright fighting can get you in trouble." Sylvia didn't know the context of the fight, nor did she understand that it was the man pressuring Jacques into fighting that harshly, but she still worried for his safety regardless. She scanned him up and down once more, just to be certain he was alright, then sighed again, resigning that he was, in fact, otherwise unharmed.
     
  7. Before Jacques could respond to any of Sylvia's question, he found himself immediately being cared for by her without his saying anything. As she treated his wounds, he glanced up once more at the stranger he had fought as he walked away, his smile returning. "Thanks." he said when she finished up. Then he heard Sylvia warning him about fighting and slightly frowned. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind..." he said. He didn't want Sylvia to get dragged into his personal troubles, especially involving his family. "Sorry if I worried you."

    He never really told anyone he was a Montierre; a family of aristocrats in the city of Verdann. Or that he ran away because of the way his family (mostly his father and brother) acted. That was years ago now, and he wanted to leave the Montierre family behind for good. Sadly, they didn't want to leave him behind, as he was a large political asset, and have since been trying to get him back home by any means necesarry. Thankfully, he had an eye in the sky, thanks to his owl Wyzen. Speaking of...

    Jacques held out his arm, and the owl fluttered from Sylvia's easel and perched on it. "Were you worried about me too, Wyzen?" he asked the feathered creature, who simply hooted in response. Reaching into his pocket, Jacques took out a piece of jerky and held it out to the avian. Pleased, Wyzen took the jerky into his beak and snapped it up. "Oh yeah, you've never met Wyzen before, have you, Sylvia?" he asked the painter.
     
  8. Sylvia gasped in awe, face brightening instantly. After all, she did love animals. She didn't know the owl was Jacques! "Oh my gosh! That's your owl?! That's so cool! He's so cute, can I pet him? Pleeeeaaaase?" Like a little child, Sylvia begged to socialize with the animal, as her mother had never wanted a pet (besides their pet turtle, whom Sylvia and Jack took care of, not their mom or Lucy) and the only time she really did, the pet didn't really do much besides eating and hiding. Although, he did love Sylvia and felt comfortable around her, so that was a bonus.

    Anyway, Sylvia watched the owl eagerly, taking in its features. While she had seen owls online, she had never met one in person, which made it all the more exciting to her. A new animal she could chat about, pet, love, etc. was a fantastic thing. Speaking of painting, her painting wasn't really anything besides a big blue background. While she was originally going to paint a galaxy for practice, she had done many of them before; now she wanted to draw an owl flying in the sky. Specifically, Wyzen the barn owl.

    With that idea, Sylvia gasped. "Oh! I could paint your owl! My painting is blank right now and I was running low on inspiration, but now I wanna paint your owl! Is that okay? I'll give you the canvas when I'm done! You can do whatever you want with it!" Sylvia exclaimed. Her expression was bright, innocent, and even a little bit naive. She didn't know about Jacques's past, nor did she know much about him besides his Talents and the fact that he was her classmate, but she was willing to become closer to him and be his friend. She thought a painting of his owl would be a good icebreaker.
     
  9. "Feel free to. I think he'd like the attention." Jacques replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. There was always something about her that could lighten the mood. As he answered, Wyzen fluttered from Jacques's arm and landed between the two Magi, giving a small hoot as he quickly preened himself to look his best for the portrait. The avian then puffed out his chest, looking proud of it's appearance. Jacques simply rolled his eyes. "Always so overdramatic." he chuckled. The owl hissed slightly in reply, then turned back to Sylvia, waiting to see what she would do.
     
  10. Sylvia gasped and pulled out her phone, then took a picture of him. While she wasn't the best photographer out there by any means, she simply used an artistic point of view to get the perfect angle of the bird. When she snapped the photo, she grinned and bounced a couple of times. "I have the photo saved and favorited! You don't need to stand here forever while I paint! Thank you for letting me do this! I won't let either of you down!" She bent down and gave Wyzen some scritches under the neck, behind the head, and behind the wings, ruffling his feathers just slightly (though not nearly enough to be uncomfortable). Sylvia looked completely enthralled by the loving barn owl.
     
  11. Wyzen seemed pleased by the affection he recieved, cooing contently and squinting his eyes with delight. "Looks like he's taken a shine to you." Jacques said. "You seem to have a knack with animals, huh?" As he said this, he took a seat and pulled out his phone, checking his tailoring site quickly before continuing to weave his most recent project into shape. Threads emitted from his fingertips as he wove them into place before detatching them, occasionally changing the thread's color to add to the swirling wind design. His fingers flexed and wove about with impressive deftness as he finished by adding a hood with cat ears. Once the basic shape was out of the way, he began outlining the yellow pattern with orange threads, making them stand out more while adding a nice mid-transition in color. Finally, after checking his phone one last time, he wove the client's name into the back as a finishing touch. "So, Sylvia, how've things been lately?"
     
  12. Sylvia had set up her phone beside her canvas on the easel and continued painting. When she heard Jacques's question, she smiled. "Oh, it's been awesome! Mom finally got us a pet turtle! We named her Tiny. She's a real cutie, too! I've already painted her three times! She seems to really trust me, which I'm super proud of. Jack and I take care of her. As for Lucy, she doesn't feel like caring for the cute baby. Mom's kinda on edge about it, too. She said we'd be the only ones taking care of the turtle, since it's the only thing she can tolerate in her house. Keyword: tolerate, meaning she doesn't necessarily like it as much as I do. Although, I'm going to be honest, it's a little hard to like animals as much as I do. Although, my empathizing can be a helpful aspect of that. My peers also tell me I'm good with kids, whom I really enjoy spending time with. I don't know how to take care of them nearly as much as a parent should, mind you, but I can still entertain them and make them feel happy, so I'm happy about that, too." As she painted, she had only just now noticed how much she rambled. "S-sorry, I guess you didn't really ask for my full life story, huh?" she added hastily, blushing in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to ramble. I can stop if you want..."
     
  13. "Ah, don't worry about it." Jacques said, smirking. "It's nice to hear things're lookin' up for ya." As he listened and replied, he continued to work on various requests from his website, using magic-produced threads woven from his fingertips. His hands wove elegantly, his fingers swiftly shifting from one position to another to bring the threads to their rightful position.

    Elsewhere, the stranger Jacques had fought reclined against a wall. Well, now that I've had my fun, I guess I better get to the job the old man gave me. Taking out a photo, he examined the appearancee of the peron he was supposed to find. Suddenly, his face broke out into a grin. Well, what do you know...
     
  14. Sylvia, blissfully unaware of the goings-on of the man far from her, gave Jacques a big, warm, friendly smile. "Yeah! So how's stuff happening with you? I don't know much about you, so I wanted to get to know you a bit better! So, is there anything you like to do in particular?" Sylvia absently painted the owl, puffing up its chest and feathers proudly, and spoke clearly and smoothly, as though she had done this multiple times in the past.

    Her fingers moved nimbly, it seemed, and she was used to painting at the same time as keeping up a decent conversation, an exceptional feat, should anyone actually have the skills to do either separately.

    "Your Talent includes sewing, right?" Sylvia asked, glancing up briefly to take a peek at his work. "It looks super cool! You do some kind of online thing, don't you? It's not my business to pry, but I saw you on the Internet quite a lot and you seem to use it for a reference. Do you look up pictures online and try to copy them or are you finding inspiration from the Internet?"
     
  15. A slightly tense look came by his eye when Sylvia said she wanted to get to know him better, and he seemed just a shred uncertain about what it is he should share. Thankfully, though, she didn't bring up his family. "Well, I'm quit fond of literature, both in reading and writing it, and music, particularly the harp. I also like letting out a little steam in the ring now and then, too, as you've seen today." he said with a smirk. "And I would say that I like taking long strolls through town, but technically I just wind up swinging and slinging around with my threads instead."

    "Actually, I run an internet business on the site Topicthread.com." Jacques explained, "Basically, you can browse through the items available or customize an order for any kind of clothing, and I'll create and deliver them when I have the time, usually within a week. Send a picture or message with what you want in as much detail as you want, and I'll do what I can to capture your dream garment and make it a reality. New users even get their first order for half the price." He smiled as he spoke of his website and business. "It's a bit tough to make time along with school, and to keep up with orders sometimes, but it's a living."

    He handed Sylvia his phone so she could look at the order he was working on now. "Each of the items already available are my own design, and I make clothing for pretty much any situation." He explained, "What someone wears can really express who they are. It basically makes them a living, breathing canvas, and the clothes themselves are the artistic vision of the tailor." He seemed quite passionate about his work.
     
  16. Sylvia gasped and dissipated her paints temporarily, taking the phone gingerly in her hands and comparing the order to his artwork. "Wow! That's super cool!" she exclaimed, completely enamored by his work. "Oh! I like to write too, by the way! I mostly work on fiction, with old-style fantasy, old planets, and whatnot. Y'know, believe it or not, when I was a kid, I used to study astronomy. I know, kinda crazy. Then I got over astronomy and wanted to be a marine biologist before I got over THAT, too! Now, while I love space, the sea, and just life in general, I study to be an artist. I know it's a little bit cheesy, especially since my Talent is LITERALLY paints, but y'know, it's just who I am!" She shrugged and handed his phone back to him. "But anyway, I think it's super cool that you've got this going for you! You could be super successful when school's done! But hey, it seems like a lot of hard work to do all on your own. I could lend you a hand if you don't mind," Sylvia offered kindly. "I know I'm not the most fashionable out there, but my sister is pretty into fashion herself. I think I could get you two to meet. She's younger than me by two years, but it's alright. She's still pretty good."
     
  17. Jacques couldn't help but chuckle as Sylvia began to ramble again. He didn't quite know her personally, but he had seen how passionate and excitable she could be about some things; like a little kid discussing their favorite show or video game. It was, if he was being honest, rather adorable. When she offered to help him with his business, he gave a slight nod. "I suppose I could use a hand if you've got time to spare. I actually have been thinking of hiring a new design artist to help me come up with ideas. Consider your offer ac-"

    Before he could finish, his eye caught the faintest hint of a glow behind Sylvia, and felt the ground shaking. Reacting as quickly as he could, he quickly swept the artist off her feet and bounded to the side as the pavement they had previously been standing on was torn asunder by a powerful shock wave. The wave continued on it's destructive course until it hit a store front, leaving it like a bomb had gone off in that general area. As soon as Jacques came to a halt, he gently put Sylvia back down onto her feet. "Sorry about being so sudden.You alright?" he asked her as he looked at the approaching man; the same as the one he had fought. So that's his talent... He thought as he cast a quick glance toward the store that was hit. That whole time he was just toying with me... He seemed a little on edge as he addressed the man. "So, are you just a sore loser, or is your pride really that hurt from losing to a teenager?" he asked.

    "Frankly, neither of those." The man said, "I just felt a little rematch would be nice, that's all. This time, however, no holds barred."

    "Given the amount of damage you caused with just that one attack, that hardly seems necesarry for a simple rematch." Jacques countered, Threads now beginning to form around his body, enwreathing him. "Surely, there's a better reason than just that." The stranger smiled at this, impressed by the tailor's intuition.

    "Alright, fine, there IS another reason." He said, "It involves you and your father, Jacques Montierre."

     
  18. Sylvia, when lifted, had squeaked slightly and instinctively hugged Jacques for comfort. When he asked her whether or not she was okay, Sylvia shakily nodded, silent and in awe of what had just occurred. Furthering her confusion and amazement, Sylvia had just overheard Jacques's full name stated by the adult whom he had just fought and gasped. "M-Montierre?!" She flinched slightly when she realized how close she had been to Jacques thus far. However, glancing between the two and noticing the tension, stood more confidently and faced the scary man.

    "H-hold on!" she exclaimed, hands extended and coated with rainbow paints. "This is a peaceful zone! I'm not going to let you destroy the city in an attempt to kill--or get, or sell, or whatever you're here for--my FRIEND! I suggest you leave before I call the police." Sylvia's paints separated by color and formed a rainbow shield. Each color seemed to serve its own function, considering how they were separated like that. This Sylvia looked very different from the child-like Sylvia describing her favorite hobbies, friends, activities, etc. from before. Now, she looked serious, though it was hard to quite tell what "serious" meant when in the context of Sylvia Reviar.
     
  19. Jacques was rather surprised that Sylvia was standing up for him, and that she considered him a friend despite they barely knew each other before today. However, the surprise action made him all the more nervous about how the man before them would respond.

    The stranger, however, simply seemed indifferent. This Xandrite city pipsqueak wouldn't last ten seconds against a child from Rubaal, let alone someone like him. "Look, you're really brave and all, sweetheart, but I'm just taking the boy back to his old man." he pointed out, pointing a large finger toward Jacques. "I don't care he's your friend, I don't care about this city of weaklings, and I don't care about you. Now, run along before I decide to beat you senseless." As he said this, he held out his hand toward Sylvia, a clear sphere of red light surrounding it. "I don't know how much damage repairs are worth in this rathole town, but it's not gonna stop me unless it's worth more than what I'm getting paid to bring his sorry hide back." He then looked up to Jacques. "So, then, kid, what's your answer? You gonna come with me, or do I have to take drastic measures?"

    Jacques looked down to the ground, his eyes lost in the shade of his cap. The idea of returning to his father sickened him to no end, but at the same time, he didn't want to be the source of more destruction and pain for Xandrite City. His years living here had been some of his happiest, and now that he had finally made his first real friend here, he was even more conflicted than ever. Taking a deep breath, he glared up at the man with cold, sharp eyes.

    "I'll go with you..." he said quietly, standing up and walking toward the man. As he passed Sylvia, he gave her a sad, apoligetic look. Almost as if he would never see her again.

    The stranger seemed a little disappointed, but simply replied with a "Hmph." as he began to lead Jacques away.
     
  20. Sylvia watched Jacques leave helplessly, eyes wide at the expression he had given her. She couldn't do anything about it, as far as she knew. Not without fighting.

    Well... not necessarily. She could fight... without fighting.

    Sylvia's shield's green portion silently fell to the ground, sliding under the man's feet. It crawled up his body and trapped him at the waist, keeping him from moving. Sylvia's shield's red portion then disappeared and a large red sphere appeared around Jacques. Sylvia held her hands out, holding the paints in place, and gave the man the coldest glare she could muster.

    "I'll say it again," she began, eyes narrowing, though not with the same malicious intent the man she was holding had; merely a justice-bound expression one would wear for their friend's sake. "Leave my friend alone. I suggest you leave before I call the police."

    A crowd began gathering around the scene, where a paint-Talented girl was holding back a clearly martial arts-Talented grown man with her magic alone, a teenage boy in a cap caught in the middle. Or perhaps it was the girl with the paints in the center, though not physically.

    It felt strange to Sylvia, fighting for someone she never knew. It wasn't the fact that it was for someone strange that made her take a double-take in her head; it was the fact that she was fighting in general. In school, Sylvia had always been seen as a pacifist. No matter how much anyone had hurt her, she would never fight and solved her problems through words and kind actions. However, when faced with a dangerous man who seemed bent on only fighting--a man who wanted a student, a classmate, of Sylvia's school, and a person with whom she was just making small talk, just reprimanding for being reckless, just petting and painting his pet owl...

    When faced with a dangerous situation involving potentially calling the police, Sylvia couldn't sit still. She had to fight, even if it was for someone she barely knew. In the time she had gotten to know him, he seemed like a very nice person. He was willing to listen to her rambling, willing to save her from danger, and willing to take her up on her offer to help him. He was being friendly to her, and when someone shows that kind of promise, Sylvia can't just sit by and let the opportunity slip past, especially when some gruff man tries to take him away from her.

    Sylvia's gaze hardened, and the paint, which had been somewhat see-through before, suddenly thickened and became solid liquid, preventing anyone from moving.
     
  21. The man turned to face Sylvia, surprisingly with a smile, tearing off his trench coat and tossing it aside. "Y'know, any other merc would get annoyed with your persistance...but I'm kinda glad I'm getting some resistance. Makes the job all the more fun!" Then, as he let out a laugh, the air around him seemed to physically crack as the ground shook violently. Jacques didn't know what was coming, but he had a pretty good idea, and while the stranger was distracted, began weaving his threads beneath the rattling stones. Then, a massive shock wave pulsed from the stranger's being, tearing the ground around him to pieces, as well as blasting away enough of the green paint on his legs to move again, albeit with some difficulty. "Seems I was wrong about what I said earlier: a few of you Xandrite chumps really DO have some guts!" he laughed.

    Any bystanders who had been thrown back was caught by a net of threads Jacques had woven and erected, preventing as much damage as he could. However, the plaza itself was torn asunder, and the buildings surrounding it demolished. He then turned to the man, who was striding toward Sylvia with hands aglow, a wild look of eagerness on his face. As he attempted to charge forward, though, his legs and arm were snagged by a few threads cast by the teenager he had turned his back to. Jacques stood there, threads coming from his fingertips, glaring defiantly at the malicious mage. The man simply looked back and chuckled. "I thought you weren't going to resist, kid." he said, "Not that I'm complaining."

    "You didn't let me finish what I was going to say." Jacques replied, his voice cold as his eyes at that instance. "I was going to say I'll come with you...when Hell freezes over!" With that, he swung the man upward before whipping him into a pile of rubble on the far side of the plaza. "Sylvia, go find the police and bring them here. I'll buy you as much time as I can." He said, looking to his new friend.
     
  22. Joanne was taking a stroll when she noticed a crowd begin to form. "What's this about." She said to herself before walking over to take a look. She saw a man with two kids around her age, fighting as it seems. When the man broke the ground apart, Joanne jumped back and quickly put her hand on the ground. "Whoa, I don't know what's going on but I need to stabilize the ground." She said to herself as roots began sprouting around her and sunk into the ground, connecting the broken pieces of said ground to stabilize them.
     
  23. Sylvia backed away and gave Jacques a hesitant nod before scurrying off as fast as she could. As she did that, however, she managed to cover herself in yellow paint and zoomed off before anyone could stop her. As she ran, she had left a large trail of yellow paint in her wake, though it was unknown whether or not it was something she intended to do.

    She had long since left then, arriving in almost no time at all at the police station. She didn't know how long Jacques could hold on for, especially since he was technically the man's target for some money. But she couldn't just sit by and let her friend be taken by a man who takes no responsibility for destroying the utopia--the home--she lived in.

    She thrust open the door to the police station closest to the plaza. Her face was flushed and drenched in sweat from her run, a function she would have to work on later when it came to her paint. In the meantime, while she caught her breath, she had the attention of everyone inside the building, including several officers who rushed to her side, wondering what made her run so fast to find help.

    "H-hey, young lady, is everything alright?" asked one man.

    Sylvia shook her head breathlessly, unable to do much else.

    "Can you explain to us what's happening? Where are you running from?" a woman asked, placing her hand on Sylvia's back and healing her fatigue.

    Sylvia regained her breath easily after the woman used her Talent, so she was finally able to form coherent sentences. "D-down in Alexandrite Plaza," Sylvia began. "T-there's a man out there after my friend, Jacques. He destroyed several buildings and used his Talents directly against several of us. I did, too, but my Talent is strictly pacifist-based, and I was only able to slow him for two seconds. My friend said he'd hold the man off while I went to get help. P-please..."

    The police officers all exchanged business-bound looks of determination, worry, and some sorrow before the woman from before nodded and pat Sylvia's back again, sending calming waves through the palm of her hand.

    "Don't worry," she said to Sylvia. "We'll make sure you kids and everyone else in the Plaza are safe. In the meantime, tell us your full name and the full name of your friend, and then please remain here. We'll find a way to contact your family."

    Sylvia nodded shakily, regaining her composure as she could, and sighed. "I-I'm Sylvia Reviar, and I belong to the Paints District, but my family lives in the Mixed Median. M-my friend is Jacques... M-Montierre. That man wants to get Jacques back to his family because he was promised money, but Jacques doesn't wanna go. I-I don't know how I can help him, but I know I have to somehow..."

    "Montierre?" the woman asked with wide eyes, glancing back between some officers, one of whom wrote down the names easily on his notepad. "Is there anything else you can tell us, Sylvia?"

    "...the man has a Martial Arts Talent. He somehow deflected my paints after I had trapped him in green, so some of your Talents might not work... He seems pretty skilled and trained in combat, too, and he didn't care about destroying the place, so he was definitely not from Xandrite City," Sylvia continued explaining. "He's ruthless."

    The woman paused, soaking the information in, before slowly nodding. "Thank you. Sylvia, we will do our best to get Jacques back to you safe. In the meantime, I want you to sit here and heal for a while."

    Sylvia nodded, knowing she couldn't argue with the adults, and stepped back, allowing another officer who was from the very back of the office usher her in and give her a nice, comfortable place to sit. There was nothing she could do now but worry, and Sylvia worried her heart out. The police left the station.

    As soon as Sylvia was out of sight of everyone else but the one man who stayed to help her, she sat silently, oddly numb and eerily unfazed.
     
  24. Back in the plaza, Jacques swung out of the way of yet another powerful shock wave fired from the man's palms. He grunted as he tumbled a short distance, bruised up a bit from the battle. As he walked around, looking for an opening, he watched his opponent carefully. The stranger, meanwhile simply watched. "C'mon, you're not gonna win if you don't throw an attack my way." he said, smirking as if this was some kinda game to him. "Then again, I guess chasing you around is a little more fun than you cooperating without resistance." Jacques simply responded by putting one hand into his pocket and lashing out with the other, sending a set of sharp threads flying at the man as they shredded the ground between them. "That's more like it!" The man laughed, leaping into the air to evade the threads. As he did, Jacques smirked and removed his other hand from his pocket and pulling upward.

    Behind the man, several torrents of thread shot up and snagged his arms, slowly wrapping over his hands and arms and pulling him to his knees. The man let out a frustrated growl as he struggled to break free of his bindings. Jacques wasn't finished, though, and rushed forward, jumping and swinging a punch at the stranger's face. The stranger, however, simply grinned and leaned aside before blasting the teenage tailor with another shock wave, snapping his threads and sending him flying into a pole with a grunt. The metal caved in from the impact, and Jacques could swear he felt something in his spine bend the wrong way, but he shakily stood up with a grin.

    "Check." he muttered as the stranger charged again, only to bounce backward into a pole on the opposite side of the plaza and tied to it. Attatched to the back of his opponent's head was a pink thread, the other end attatched to the pole that the stranger had hit. Rubber glue threads. a stretchy adhesive perfect for a cunning trap...and holding my threads together, but that's beside the point. Jacques thought to himself. He then began to limp toward the man as he got up, his back still hurting.

    "Alright, I'll give you that one, kid." The stranger grunted, standing up. "But don't think this is close to over!" Using a pair of shock waves to propel himself, he hurtled toward the injured, exhausted teenager, ready to deliver the knockout blow...
     

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