[OPENING] magical training log

[spellslash]

Who: Brie, whichever newbies want to show up.
Where: The beach.
When: Day 4
Open/Closed: OTA

[It's about noon on the island, based on the position of the sun. The newbies have had a few days to settle in, but that doesn't mean they've fully mastered their newfound abilities.

As much stock as Genette puts into telepathy, Brie is more concerned about their other newfound gifts. She's aggressively tried to wrangle as many newbies as possible onto the sandy shores of the beachfront area for some magic practice.

She's got a list of everyone's magic -- only a few vague notes, limitations are for you to discover -- and she's handing out missions for magic training. If you want to participate? Feel free. If you don't? Suit yourself.

But understanding your magic isn't just an activity that benefits the group. Learning your magic's abilities may be what stands between you and survival, which is something she makes perfectly clear.]

Comments

[fivefingerdeathpunch]

[Jotaro doesn't see the point in training his new power--what's he gonna learn to do, twinkle harder?--but he's been having fun watching others attempt to master theirs so far today, so when Blondie Italiano walks up offering to tell a ghost story, Jotaro is more interested than suspicious. Not entirely devoid of suspicion, mind you, but mostly interested.]

It better be a good one.

[tropism]

Just for you, I'll make it extra creepy.

[ he extends a hand. ] You have to hold my hand. It's the only way you'll be safe.

[ trust this face. okei ]

[fivefingerdeathpunch]

...

[He looks down at Giorno's hand, then back at his face. Back at his hand, back at his face. This is deep-fried bullshit, he's sure, but Jotaro kind of wants to see what's gonna happen if he plays along, so he grudgingly--and silently--takes Giorno's hand.

Tell the story, nerd.]

[tropism]

I can't believe you actually did that. [ HE'S NEVER LETTING GO NOW THAT THEY'RE HOLDING HANDS, but he's got a smug grin on his face.

anyway, the story .... ]

Well, alright. I did promise you a story ....

There was once a boy who had nightmares every evening. It didn't matter what preparations he did during the day, or what prayers in the evening - the moment he closed his eyes, he'd have nightmares.

At first they were bearable. Horrible deaths. Mutilations. Gunshots. Physical things. Unsettling, but - familiar. And then things started to become more and more difficult to forget: faint voices in his sleep, calling his name. Windows bearing imprints of tiny hands even if he's fifteen floors up. Scratching against the door as he slept, only to wake up to seeing ten marks gouged against the closet door, wavy, thin, and blunt tracks lining the wood. It was difficult to tell where the nightmares stopped and began.

Again and again he would dream of a long shadow occupying the corner of his room.

It would grow, as he grew older. It had long claws and bright eyes. When it spoke he felt serene. Peaceful. Like nothing could harm him. Like they can be friends. It said things but he didn't remember them upon waking up. And all this time, his lack of sleep, his nightmares, his anxieties - they play out in the morning in the most aggravating way, his temper lashing at anyone who got too close to him. He quietly isolated himself from his friends. He kept dreaming.

One night, it asked for his name. And when he opened his mouth, it pulled him apart with hands like knives, and slithered down into his soul like a snake.

In his dreams he walked with this shadow inside of him speaking to him and telling him to kill, to hunt, to maim, everything else - and he loved it - but it was no longer his dream -

Every night, he came back to it. And every morning he would wake up with scratches around his neck and not know where he is, or who he is today, but that's okay. It tells him where to go. It eats. It dreams. It's got the name etched on his skin so he doesn't forget.

That's my story.

[fivefingerdeathpunch]

[It's a weird story, and more resonant than Jotaro wants to admit to someone he barely knows. As Giorno talks, he finds himself remembering the terrified confusion of his early days with Star Platinum, not just the fact of it but how it felt to have this wrathful thing no one else could see lingering at his side.

Jotaro's heart races despite himself, his free hand curls into a fist, but there's still another part to this and he's determined not to chicken out.]

Is it gonna come true?

[tropism]

What'll you do if it does?

You've come here the same way as I have. You must've given up something, as well.

[ he sees his free hand turn into a fist, and giorno wonders if he should ready for a fight. he doesn't have his stand, but he does have this -

he keeps a firm grip on jotaro's hand. ]

[fivefingerdeathpunch]

[What will he do? It's not like he was big on fighting before his Stand manifested, but would he even need to? Giorno's seemed smart enough so far that a purely intellectual battle could be on the table--could be happening right now, even, which means--

No. That's the fear talking, still coiled in his gut like a stocking full of stones. Jotaro knows he's better than this and he needs to act like it.]

I'll wait and see. It's none of my business if you're just being dramatic about weird magic puberty, but I won't let you hurt people.

[He's not saying what he lost. One is too personal and the other too weird to explain, and as far as Jotaro's concerned neither has anything to do with Giorno and his scary story bullshit.]

[tropism]

I'm being dramatic, you're absolutely right.

And that's quite the leap where my abilities are concerned. I'm flattered, but you're wrong.

[ noted that he wants what he's lost to remain private. giorno lets go of his hand, eventually. ]