Asp Glimpses

Nerves.

That was why her stomach felt tense as she drove up the long stretch of the Five leading from the southernmost parts of California toward the capitol. It was a strange feeling for her. Alana Fox did not normally brook nervousness, but there it was nonetheless.

They'd pass. They always did, once you got into things. This was a big change for the twenty-two year old Obrimos. Her first apprenticeship was over. She was leaving Las Vegas. Leaving home, to go on her first posting. The first assignment was not going to be a cakewalk. That was good. One always learned more when the forces pushing back were greater. Existence is War.

So the life she'd lived to that point? It had to change. She had to leave Vegas and grow beyond the nest. This was just the next lesson, the next struggle, the next development in her War. Every Arrow had to be willing to go where they had to go, her master had told her. That was just part of the way of the Adamant Hand - die every day. Be ready to pack up and become something new.

The warm wind whipped through the open window, tossing her hair about behind her. A wolf howled. A truck honked brazenly, speeding past on her left at a far greater speed than it probably ought to have. Her jaw set. She peered at a green highway sign, whipping toward her on the right. Sacramento. It wasn't far away.

A checklist flashed through her mind of things she needed to get done. There were superiors to report into. A business to get started. Training to be done. There was always more training to be done. That was the first thing he'd ever said to her, and had been a constant reminder ever since.

Asp peered into the distance beyond the whipping lines of the highway. The bright lights of California's capitol burned before her eyes like so many fires. It was a beautiful view, a beacon drawing her in. What danger lay among those pinpoints of brilliance? What allies? There was so much she didn't know yet.

But that was always the way, wasn't it?

The tension was anticipation, the boiling in the clouds before the storm of trials to come.

Keep your guard up!

Asp almost wanted to scream it as she watched the battle. One of the two fighters was defensive, blocking and defending themselves most admirably. They were the smaller of the two, the less experienced of the two by a fair margin, and yet, she was exercising such skill and patience. It was talent, pure and simple. The other had reach. The other outweighed her. The other was aggressive. Violent.

But Asp could attest to the value of defensive fighting. Aggressive fighters became over-aggressive fighters, and over-aggressive fighters made mistakes.

And so this one did. The aggressor overextended, and the defender's foot snapped up and out, sweeping his opponent's leg out from under him.

The bigger girl hit the mat with a grunt, and the little one raised her hands over her head and cheered. It was an eight year old beating a ten year old, in the Obrimos's martial arts class for under-privileged youth.

Asp smiled to herself.

“Help her up, Ashley,” she said kindly. “Nice match, guys.”

She looked to the girl who had been knocked down, who grudgingly accepted the hand of the victor. She didn't teach that everyone was a winner. In a real fight, the winner was the one who was still standing at the end. But she did teach honour. That was part of being an Adamantine Arrow. When you sparred a fellow classmate, you helped them up, and you acted in a sportsmanlike way.
So much of that could be lost in battle if one wasn't careful, but there was value for children in learning such things.

“Remember not to shift your center of gravity too far, Lisa. You want to keep your balance. Even the smallest opponent can take advantage of mistakes.”

It was a tip the girl could take to the bank.

Asp's eyes were closed as she stood in the dark. At least, it looked like the dark, or would have, to a mundane observer – but the Veiled Threats knew this place differently. It was their Sanctum. This was their Hallow, their connection to the Supernal and its Mana. But most importantly, this was their new home.

The resonance washed over her there, the essence of luck ambient in the area as she closed her eyes and called upon old training. It was an oblation, one she had learned when first she had accessed a Hallow to coax forth its bounty and power her Magic. Her mentor, a hard but fair man going by Sharp had shown her how.

“Free your mind, kid,” he had said, a smirk on his wizened face. “Not like that goofy shit Morpheus nattered about, but really... just, relax. Think, and then don't. Stop, and then just be. You don't slow down much. You're a competitor.” He'd snickered at her. “Understand that sometimes, to understand War the best, you must bring it in and find your center again.”

He'd handed her a yoga mat. “Stretch out. Meditate. Find your center, and let your spirit be. The Supernal is the Self.”

Perhaps that was why she stretched so often. She unrolled the yoga mat here in the dark room and stood upon it, her bare feet comfortable (even if her toenails desperately could use a coat of paint!)

It was thoughts like that that would be purged by this. The Supernal is the Self. In moments like this, her spirit could become that perfect reflection of the Supernal Realm, one bit at a time. She settled into a lotus pose and rested her hands palm up upon her knees, losing herself in the darkness and the timelessness of the giant theatre in which they lived.

Her thoughts cleared and her insecurities fell away, leaving nothing but an Awakened soul contemplating nothing at all and everything all at once, there in the wake of the Supernal.

First, there was the idea. Rippling power. The tightening of tendons. Herself, but stronger. Better. Faster.

The mudra. Tensing her muscles. Flexing everything, drawing down from the Primal Wilds what once surely had to have been natural for Awakened before the Fall, connecting her body and the Supernal through that invisible cord that connected her to the World Above.

The grasp of Paradox, unearthly claws, pushing through the little cracks around the spell, seeking to push through the gaps into the Fallen World. She focuses her spell through her Tool, relies upon the structure and familiarity of the mudra -- and the Abyss is held at bay once more as the spell channels.

Her nimbus flares, as the Angel closed her eyes to just feel the impossibility in all its reality. It was her mark on the world after each casting of what a certain cabalmate of hers might call a 'V'.

That heady rush, adrenaline pumping.

The excitement. It exploded around her, as though a moment before the firing of a starting pistol at the Olympic track final.

The nail-biting tension of athletic competition, of the need to reach for the stars and to never stop until she made it.

The heat, boiling off her, that warmth that Human bodies feel as they strive for excellence.

And wasn't that so much of what this was about? To be the best she could be in the service of the ideals of the Pentacle?

The room was dark, save for the red glow of the numbers on her digital alarm clock. 11:43pm, they read, their colour standing out in the blackness all around. Asp lay in her bed, her foot swinging idly at one end while she tried to rest.

Tried to close her eyes.

Tried to not see Triquetra's body.

Tried not to remember the smell.

Tried not to remember the nightmares.

It wasn't working. Even Felix's never-ending rumble couldn't help her sleep.

With a sigh, she picked up the phone. There was always one person she could talk to. Even when she couldn't be honest with him because of the Veil. He just always made her feel better.

"Hi. It's me. How are you?"

Her tone suggested she was tired. It wasn't wrong.

"Oh, I'm not bad. I'm all settled in. Living with some roommates, working at a community center, you know?" At something he said back, she smiled and sounded a bit embarassed. In the darkness, she might've blushed. "One boy, Dad. He's harmless. The group of us have a lot of fun. We go out a lot and do stuff. It's nice."

Of course he would ask that. Are you living with a boy? Even if he had known what she really was, it wouldn't matter. She would always be his little girl.

"How's Talia?"

Her sister. She was doing just fine. Apparently, she was going to UNLV after all in September. She was super bookish, Talia the Nerd. They couldn't have been more different as people, but she still loved her sister. Especially after all they'd been through.

"I think she'd like it out here. I haven't gone surfing yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get these guys out to do it one weekend here soon. One of my roommates is a bit of a buzzkill, but she'll get on board. She usually does."

Mandy on a surfboard was a hilarious idea. Talia hanging out with Mandy? That was even better. They'd get along famously. Or kill each other. Asp didn't know which.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to wake you. I just realized I hadn't called in a bit."

Code for homesickness. Just a little. It nagged at her. It always would, she suspected.

"I'll come visit soon, okay? When I can get some time off. I love you, Dad."

Sigh.

I love you too, Alana.

This ritual occurs on August 19, 2014.

Asp's breathing was slow and steady as she rested in her lotus pose beneath the Hallow's energies at the top of the Fourth Wall.

It was how she preferred to begin her rituals. Every single Mage in the world surely had their own way to prepare, and each was as unique as the Awakened who practiced it. For her, it was about centering herself and truly opening herself up to the pull of the Aether. The timing was chosen deliberately as well, for the ritual would end when the sun was at its zenith. Her sacraments were simple. Red wine for Prime, and seared meat for Life. Together, the Arcana of the spells involved were represented, and her offering to the Supernal was prepared. Ritually, she would consume them. Like an athlete's body, her rituals would be supported by the stuff of champions.

First came the chanting, words of High Speech winding off her tongue there in the room. She usually wold have whispered - today, she did not. Her High Speech rang out in the strong, certain chant of the Mighty. It was half an hour of this, but the time passed without concern, so wrapped up in her preparations was she. At the end of each chant, a little meat and wine was consumed, even as the meat cooled.

The weaving of the spell came next. Long hours would she spend doing this on this morning, the sun climbing higher into the sky as Asp set to putting the pieces of the interwoven puzzle of Prime and Life together into a lasting, cloaked blanket over her that protected her and enhanced her. It was grueling work. Each stage of the spellcasting, each consumption of meat and drinking of wine, took time and effort as she prepared her body, sharpened her senses to the Supernal, and strengthened her skin against attack.

By the end of three hours, even the dedicated Obrimos was somewhat tired. But as the willworking came through powerfully and she let the excess bleed away, Asp found herself smiling in spite of herself.

After all, a warrior was always prepared.

Asp was grinning to herself as she put together her letters, having received what Star and Zodiac had sent out. A challenge for the Threats? Something that made them better as a unit?

This one was easy. Her pen scribbled across paper, leaving neat writing.

One.

Two.

Three.

She stuffed the envelopes and slid them under each Threats door. Her challenge was something that they desperately needed to get into place anyway.

The Challenge?

My challenge? We will prepare a security protocol in the event of the Fourth Wall being assaulted by unknown forces that all four of us agree upon. What do we do? How do we do it?

It started with the threads of the bear, old and disgusting, a mockery of all that might have once been comfortable, comfortable and peaceful and secure there in the basement of the decrepit, dangerous domicile of the dead. On the floor near her were the jars containing the souls of the departed Awakened, their prisons that soon, they would open.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, images of a wolf bearing its teeth and attacking flashed through the link, but Asp wasn't paying attention to that. Her eyes were looking beyond, at what was truly lying beneath the fur.

The power there was like a ball of glowing, green life, but darker, something tainted, something twisted by the black powers of the Abyss. There was something there, something she could never understand. Not fully, at any rate.

She suspected the only people who really understood it were the poor, lost souls of the tainted Scelesti who practiced the Path of Befouling that she had read about in the the Codex Cruciatum.

A small frown crossed her face as she realized what was holding it all back, keeping the teddy bear enchanted and the world around her from becoming a much, much less positive place.

A thread of Fate.

This bear was a grenade, and the only thing stopping it from exploding was a trigger she didn't yet understand. She needed time. She needed to trust in Prime and study this object to determine what this thing would do.

And then Leo Lockheart challenged Animus.

Fuck.

The cool glass in Asp's hand was nice, ice tinkling quietly amidst cheap vodka and Seven-Up. So was the music, a quiet jazz song that she couldn't hope to identify lulling her into relaxation. She sat in a quiet booth at the back end at the Moxie's where the Veiled Threats had once sat to plan out their fauxbal. She could see the very table where she had sat with Star, Zodiac and Avis months ago.

Star had just wanted Mana. Zodiac had just wanted to move on. Avis had brought it up.

And a younger, more naive version of Asp had totally agreed. What fun, right? Roommates! Mana! If she could go back and thank herself for saying yes, she would. It had been one of the best choices she'd ever made.

Maybe that was why she was here. Something about the happy image worked to cancel out the madness in the Scelesti man's grin, or the gibbering, wretched press against her sanity that the woman had worked with whatever her tongue was all about. The way the rats had chewed Avis. The haunted look in Animus's eyes as he flew into his rampage and ripped the dead to pieces.

The way it felt to kill, again. She didn't feel guilty, but the reminders, the nightmares... should she, for doing what needed to be done to defend the Pentacle?

What else could they have done? It was war. They were soldiers. Period. End of story. Suck it up, Princess. There'd be others. It was just reality, settling in over the rookie's previous naivity. This wasn't training, anymore. It was the real deal.

Maybe this was why Sharp had sent her here.

Letting out a long breath, she drained the drink and placed the glass gently on the coaster. One more, then she'd go home.

Asp whistled as she mindlessly worked away. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in pajama bottoms and one of those ubiquitous white spaghetti strap tank tops that every girl in the Western world owned, looking over the box that Ermon had delivered. Well, there'd been two. One had a really nicely crafted shield in it - her present to herself, another option in the young Arrow's toolkit, but something that was entirely off her mind right now.

It always made her happy, giving gifts. The box she was gently wrapping in shiny gold gift wrap was about a foot by a foot, and it wasn't the real thing. Naturally, there was duct tape, and within, a second box - and then finally, the third box. The real thing.

One of those gorgeous cameras. Hi-def, a billion megapixels, with a nice zoom lens and all the cords and whatnot. It would work with the laptop, too, which was great.

Star had asked for it, and he'd seemed pretty excited about it. Having a good camera? Yeah. She could see why they could use one. They were a Cabal of investigators and operatives.

And a Cabal of friends.

A little card, for the top, after the wrapping was finished and the shiny red bow was on.

Happy belated, buddy Tell me when your birthday is, and I'll deliver it on time next year. :P

Asp

She left it outside Star's room, tucked into the corner for him to find. The others would be next.