[Mage] Born In Fire...
Gates walked into the bar and looked around. He expected Smoke to choose a place like this, and the man didn't disappoint. The professor strolled in, looking out of place in the tweed jacket and jeans without holes. He couldn't figure out which smell was more overpowering - the stale smoke, spilled beer or the more...human element. A biker or two who obviously belonged to the Harleys parked out front, a few locals who obviously ignored the Surgeon General's warning on the packs of Kools they were smoking, and a bartender who looked like she'd as soon spit in his mouth as serve him a drink. With a wry grin, Gates proceeded to the isolated booth where the familiar disheveled figure sat with two familiar bottles.
You sure you want this shit, G-man? Once you're fuckin' in, there's no fuckin' goin' back...
When the hell did he start calling the professor "G-man"?
Yeah, Smoke. I'm in. You're about keeping people safe from the ugly things in the world. I've got people I need to keep safe, and there're a lot of ugly things in this world.
Smoke looked him over, his brow furrowing as he made his final decision. Without a word, he slid a bottle over, and took a swig of his own. Without a word, Gates had his answer. Together, they drank until the bikers, the townies and the bartender faded into a world that existed somewhere else. When there was no more to drink, they stood and made their way outside. They walked in silence, Gates contemplating their surroundings, and how close to the city someone could be and still find solitude in nature. When they were finally surrounded by only trees, animals and the night sky, Smoke turned. A small, dark smile crossed his features and a glint found its way into his eyes.
Gates waited, knowing what was coming. Without warning, Smoke threw out his hand, and it began. Both of them chanting under their breath, the relentess blows flew from Smoke to Gates, from teacher to student. The man called Dorado could manage only a spare thought at the irony that he would ever be the student to someone like Smoke, but he surpressed his ego and turned his concentration to the constant barrage of magic. Spell after spell, each more vulgar than the next. Paradox burned in the night like a white hot needle, searing them both. Reality was ripped to shreds in that small patch of woods as the fabric of the world was torn to let in just a hint of the supernal realms which seemed so far away under the night sky.
It seemed to go on for hours - attack, counter - spells thrown and deflected, weaved and dispelled in an instant, until finally Gates felt it - the transformation, the shift in his soul. He stopped chanting, but Smoke's curse was still deflected. He relaxed his sight, but he still saw the other man's nimbus curling brightly in the desolate woods. The tension in his body eased, and he felt the effort become more fluid, almost like a dance. The other man noticed as well. His grin lost its malice as he loosed one last volley of celestial flame and began to smile - almost...proudly? The look was foreign for Smoke, and to be sure, it didn't last long.
That's it, G-man. You're a Cleric now. Now, get the fuck outta here. Before the whole world decides it don't like gettin' fucked the way we're fuckin' it.
Gates walked back to his car, banishing the liquor from his system with a muttered enchantment. As he drove, he healed what he could and eased the pain on the rest, so the woman waiting at home wouldn't worry when he walked through the door. She wouldn't be happy anyway...she was bound to notice the change in his soul - Gates wondered what new splash of color she'd see in him now.
Now that he was a Cleric.
You sure you want this shit, G-man? Once you're fuckin' in, there's no fuckin' goin' back...
When the hell did he start calling the professor "G-man"?
Yeah, Smoke. I'm in. You're about keeping people safe from the ugly things in the world. I've got people I need to keep safe, and there're a lot of ugly things in this world.
Smoke looked him over, his brow furrowing as he made his final decision. Without a word, he slid a bottle over, and took a swig of his own. Without a word, Gates had his answer. Together, they drank until the bikers, the townies and the bartender faded into a world that existed somewhere else. When there was no more to drink, they stood and made their way outside. They walked in silence, Gates contemplating their surroundings, and how close to the city someone could be and still find solitude in nature. When they were finally surrounded by only trees, animals and the night sky, Smoke turned. A small, dark smile crossed his features and a glint found its way into his eyes.
Gates waited, knowing what was coming. Without warning, Smoke threw out his hand, and it began. Both of them chanting under their breath, the relentess blows flew from Smoke to Gates, from teacher to student. The man called Dorado could manage only a spare thought at the irony that he would ever be the student to someone like Smoke, but he surpressed his ego and turned his concentration to the constant barrage of magic. Spell after spell, each more vulgar than the next. Paradox burned in the night like a white hot needle, searing them both. Reality was ripped to shreds in that small patch of woods as the fabric of the world was torn to let in just a hint of the supernal realms which seemed so far away under the night sky.
It seemed to go on for hours - attack, counter - spells thrown and deflected, weaved and dispelled in an instant, until finally Gates felt it - the transformation, the shift in his soul. He stopped chanting, but Smoke's curse was still deflected. He relaxed his sight, but he still saw the other man's nimbus curling brightly in the desolate woods. The tension in his body eased, and he felt the effort become more fluid, almost like a dance. The other man noticed as well. His grin lost its malice as he loosed one last volley of celestial flame and began to smile - almost...proudly? The look was foreign for Smoke, and to be sure, it didn't last long.
That's it, G-man. You're a Cleric now. Now, get the fuck outta here. Before the whole world decides it don't like gettin' fucked the way we're fuckin' it.
Gates walked back to his car, banishing the liquor from his system with a muttered enchantment. As he drove, he healed what he could and eased the pain on the rest, so the woman waiting at home wouldn't worry when he walked through the door. She wouldn't be happy anyway...she was bound to notice the change in his soul - Gates wondered what new splash of color she'd see in him now.
Now that he was a Cleric.