Recent content by Marcia

Nothing happening around her was terribly helpful in convincing Marcia that she wasn't an extension of herself, trapped in a strange realm of reflections. Vult and Kael, usually more mild-mannered boys were brawling, Vittoria was laughing, (fucking hells) and Norah was... ...kissing her? Honk...

Kilien might have been a workshy, lackidaiscal, bannister-polishing menace, but he wasn't malicious. There was a distinction betweeen a terrible Initiate and one that needed a good, hard slap now and again, and he firmly fell into the latter category. Easy to find irritating but hard to hate...

Marcia might have savoured the validation from the Dreadlord were she not in the process of stalking an assassin through the streets using the back of a spoon. Perhaps later, providing nothing went awry between then and now. They moved, the handle of the pilfered spoon up her sleeve and the...

"Of course," she replied with a nod; it made sense. Marcia may not have been able to open windows with her abilities, but she was more than capable of using her reflection to slit throats without being detected. She could only imagine this was why she was here with Cenric now, singled out for...

Gambling. Even the word itself caused the girl to sneer, her uninvited experience of Initiate poker night leaving a sour taste in Marcia's mouth. What a foolish manner in which to empty one's pockets. Naser had anticipated (as he was wont to do) her objection to his desire for a hot meal...

The expression that clung to Marcia's freshly scarred face flitted from irritation to perturbation before circling right back to irritation again as he attempted to wash her shield—emphasis on attempted. Most people with an iota of humour or congeniality might have appreciated the effort and...

Marcia wasn't opposed to being floated up to retrieve her shield, but the idea of being blown away and into a very hard landing would have been the cherry atop the shit sundae of the day. Besides, she couldn't observe him casting down here if she was up there. She couldn't deny that she found...

Marcia stared at the cordial. And Marcia stared back. Throughout her time at the Academy, there were many discussions about the nature of her magic, often ending with infuriated open-ended questions that never scratched the surface of a proper answer. What is a reflection? When light bounces...

Marcia was hardly approving of Norah's boasts; the girl was very much self-assured that she wouldn't get caught if she were to steal. She could appreciate the confidence in one's own abilities but wished it came from a place grounded in duty rather than self-centred criminality. Still, on the...

Marcia nodded, taking Cenric's lead on their plan of attack, given that he had access to all the information, or at least as much as the Dreadlord could gather, given the unexpected hurdle. The girl cringed somewhat when he asked her whether she could unlock a window, but his knowledge of her...

"I'm not," Marcia replied dryly as they left the estate, her confidence in the Marshall severely dented after meeting the man. Evidently, he had grown comfortable in his position. Complacent. Needless to say, it was a matter worth reporting when they returned. While they walked through the...

"The Guards confirmed that they left Kinlet too," Euan spoke, his voice somewhat unsure as his mouth pulled into a slight frown. Something hadn't sat quite right with him, but the healer wasn't sure whether it was unnecessary detail that would only detract from their search. "But I..." "The...

Marcia's tongue ran over her upper teeth as the boy, constructed from scruff, rumours and the echoes of their peers' howls, responded to her curiosity with nothing more than false platitudes. Clearly, there was no other option than violent interrogation, which under the circumstance Basmarc...

When it was apparent that Lady Wilcott was simply going to sit a while longer and, no doubt, drink the spiced wine that the man had ordered to the table on her behalf, Marcia tore her gaze away. Just in time for Dreadlord Bexley to propose a conundrum and a time-sensitive one at that. "We...

The chill of the night air was a poor salve for the frustration built up from weeks on the road with that joyless midget. Limont stood still, one hand clutching his flask and the other running down his face, pulling the skin taut before resting over his mouth. In the lingering heat of the...