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A Modern Magic

Started by Mist, October 28, 2009, 03:39:26 PM

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Mist

I would like to find a number of people who would like to create a very modern magic story.  Probably 4-5 people including myself who discover they have the ability to make things happen. Ages should range between 16 and 50.   No wands, robes, spells, couldrons, potions, just emotion linked to unexplainable phenomenons.  The story would begin in a resturant in Chicago where our heros/heroines have been drawn together and notice each other as each phenomenon occurs and appears in the news. I would like there to eventually be a villan or two of sorts. Later in the story a normal human who wishes to profit from the power and possibly one of the group turned evil.

What I want to hear from those interested in being involved is name, age, gender, race, hometown, what you have become proficient in with your abilities, for example, control of living beings, elemental, control of yourself (healing, levetation) those types of things.
O/O

Mist

For example...

Name: Mist

Age: 22

Sex: Male

Race: White

Proficency: Mechanical control and Metal Manipulation

O/O

NotoriusBEN

Sure, Im game for modern magic.

Name: Ben

Age: 27

Sex: Male

Race: White

Proficiency: Lightning and electricity type powers.

Hometown: Seattle, but whether the magic compelled him to go to Chicago or if it's just what he wanted to do, is something even Ben doesnt know. Ill come up with some more details tomorrow.

Mist

Jeez...I forgot my own hometown!!

Hometown: A small city in Northern Minnesota called Blackduck.
O/O

Anosas

Name: Tori

Age: 16

Sex: Female

Race: White

Proficiency: Control of living beings (includes animals, insects and plants) and Healing

Hometown:  Niagra Falls.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

I sit at a bar downtown, the same bar I've been to all week, diminishing my scarce funds one beer at a time.  Noticing the sound of thunder , I pay my tab and head for the subway.  I grab my old Carhardt from the rack at the door a put it on over my blue jeans and untucked Dickies button down greasy blue work shirt.
The rain is already coming down in sheets in the Windy City.
   'At least I wore my work boots instead of those damn sneakers' I think to myself, accidentally stepping in a deep puddle.   I pay my dollar and take the Metra back to the suburbs for the night. 
   The dark glass creates a mirror and I can see my self getting a little scruffy. The goatee on my chin looks fine but not the five o'clock shadow around it.  My usually bald head is getting 'fluffy' like she used to call it-
   I turn my head from the window and rest my elbows on my knees.
   'Dammit, why do I do it to myself?' As I scold myself in my head, the train jerks, and the car begins making an irregular vibration. As the train begins slowing, I make my way to the door. I pull a cigarette out of my pocket as an employee walks in.
   "Sir, there is no smoking on the train. We are going to be making an unscheduled stop, so it would be best if you wait in your seat." He politely explains as the train comes to a slow stop in one of the few seemingly rural areas of the south 'burbs.
   "Does that make a break off the train out of the question?" I ask, holding my Marlboro up.
   "I suppose since your the only passenger tonight, but I can't put the steps out, sorry"  I raise my hand, "That's fine." I say a little too bluntly for his kindess. He unlocks the door and I jump off onto the balast.
   I attemt to light my cigarette, still attempting to get her out of my head. After a few tries and my anger only building, I put it back in my pocket and begin fishing for a new one. A mechanic comes walks up with a tool box and a flashlight, shining it at the underside of the car I was in.
   "Got a light, Pal?" I ask
   "Yea." He digs one out of his pocket.
   "Whatcha gotta fix?" I question, as I light my smoke.
   "Well, I can't fix it, more or less just gott make sure the sensor is good. The real problem is gonna take a couple hours."
   "You gotta be shittin me?" I blurt out after a long drag.
   "Sorry, Man. Gotta bring a couple tools and a replacement part."
   "Well what the hell is it?" Another long drag.
   "Bearings and shaft are destroyed in this wheel here." He pointed to one of the wheels in front of us.
Almost done with the cigarette, I ask, "How long is gonna fuckin be?"
   "Dispatch said they would have a guy out here in about an hour and its gonna take at least an hour to do the work." He replied, a bit offended. 
   'I don't need this shit' I thought as I flicked my butt into the grass.  'I just don't fucking need this.'  I walk start feeling my blood pressure rise and my body warms. Fuck is all that comes to mind. I grab my pack of cigarettes and try to take one out, my body shaking slightly.
   'No, no, no, no, no,' I grab my lighter again a begin attempting to light it. It continues to fail igniting. Getting angrier, I an soon feel my heart thumping against my chest and sweat droplets forming. I throw the lighter down, and I begin hearing frantic chatter on the radio the repair man has on him.
   "Hey, Rick, ummmm, we need you up here.  The throttle just jumped and we can't get it to stop." I hear, blood pressure still rising.  I hear a loud clang from up by the engine. 'Deep breaths, Mist, this ain't you.' I keep telling myself.
   "Rick, we just lost parking brakes on all passenger cars!   What the fuck do we do?" comes across the CB now.
   "I'll look at 113, and see what I can figure out." he turns his flashlight back on.
   "Can I use your lighter again?" I ask in a very low tone.
   "Sure." He tosses it my way, climbing under the train.
   I light my cigarette and feel my body tense up with the first drag.  My mind goes blank and my body temperature peaks.
   "Rick, the engine is running full boar! What the hell is happening?" was th last thing Rick heard.
   As he began climbing out from under the train, the brakes gave comepletely and the train jerked forward and Rick's neck was in exactly the wrong spot. The train cars kicked and bounced as the engine continued pulling it forward at full throttle untill it finally kicked a wheel off the track.
   The domino had been pushed.  From the time I accidentally let her memory slip into my mind, I was just tempting fate.the cars followed the first to derail as the engine continued its attempt at pulling them, to no avail. The engine was the last to tumble down the small embankment.
   I begin walking north, away from the train, away from the corpse, to the city. I was gonna have find a way to hide till it all blew over.  I grab another smoke and pull Rick's lighter from my pocket. Its a Zippo with a bikini girl wrapped around an over sized wrench. I shrug, light my cig, and put it back in my pocket. As I start walking again I think to myself, 'Silver lining...always a silver lining.'
O/O

NotoriusBEN

"Seven ball, side pocket."

With smooth measured movement, Ben taps the cueball into the Seven. It sinks into the side pocket with a satisfying thump and rattle, while the cueball bounces on a couple of cushions before resting in perfect position for sinking the Eight.

"Eight ball, corner pocket."

Bars werent the same anymore since the smoking ban throughout the nation. Anymore you had punk college kids turn up at the 'new hangout' and all the regulars feel invaded. These kids had no sense of decency in molding to the atmosphere of a bar, they forced their own wills upon it.

"Ok, who's next?"

"I take you on old man, fifty bucks."

"Ohh, big spender, eh? Rack 'em up kiddo."

The Eightball table was racked up and Ben placed the cueball, preparing to break the group. After half a minute of measuring and test strokes, Ben smashed the cueball with a tight focused swing. The cueball sped into the grouping, scattering balls in every direction. Plunk, plunk, plunk. Balls were sinking into pockets every which way. A few heartstopping moments later, the Eightball rolled slowly to the precipice of a corner pocket before rolling over the edge. The cueball rested back in position where Ben had struck it.

"Eff you man! I aint paying up a bet after that show, you hustler!"

Quicker than the rich kid, Ben grabbed the money off the table, and stared down at him. "You will pay your debt, and you will like it. Word from the wise, never hustle a hustler."

Leaving the bar, Ben looked up at the thundering clouds and grimaced at the coming rainstorm. He had a coat for the rain, but the wind this town was known for was horrendous. "Uh, I hate Chicago..."

Walking down the street, Ben felt the presence of a group of people walking behind him. Walking a block, then choosing left or right at intersections confirmed he was being followed. "Well, might as well take care of it."

Darting into an alley, hid in the small inset of a wall. A minute later, a group of punks, including the rich kid rushed the alley. Four of them had makeshift clubs, or chains, but the rich kid had a butterfly knife. Not wanting to disappoint, Ben thumped the last one to walk past him. They were much too eager for blood and didnt even look to see if he was hiding.

The exhileration of combat lit up within Ben. Sparks ran up and down his spine and nervous system as input and information ran along them. His mind became focused and very aware of his surrounding. His muscles responded to directions and input faster than before and relayed information back.

Lightning cascaded across the clouds creating white-blue flashes before dissapating just as quickly. Clubs and chains came close to striking Ben, but missed by hair's breadth. As he punched and kicked, his assailants convulsed and dropped to the ground. White-blue flashes sparking as flesh met flesh.

In quick succession, Ben was the only one left standing. Those that meant him harm, were groaning on the ground or delerious with pain. Walking out of the alley, the rain had just begun. "I really hate Chicago..."

Anosas

Another dismal day in the wonderful windy city of Chicago,  stormy oceanic eyes would stare moodily at the dark clouds that where rolling in.  Why had they had to move to Chicago of all places, why not Hawaii, or Japan or something interesting like that. 

" Tori!"   ....oh gawd...her head would sink against her shoulders as her body physically cringed at the voice calling her name.  Turning her moody eyes upon the barer of that high pitched squeaky calling, and there she was....her older half sister.   Captain of the cheer leading squad, blonde and blue eyed, on the school student council as treasurer....most loved and hated in the school,  Terese. 


" what..do you want"   came the disgruntled response as her attention would return to her locker and the messily stuffing of home work and text books into her back pack. 

Terese: "  tell mom and dad I'll be home late"

"  but tonight's your night to cook!, you always bail out and then I have to cover for you!"

Terese: "  I'll be home at midnight...thanks Tori"  Her cell phone going off and calling her attention as she walks away.


Tori would stare at the back of her sisters head like she was going to make it explode by narrowing her eyes and throwing daggers.  It was hopeless,  if she didn't do as Terese said then she would just get into trouble for it later, for one reason or another.

Gazing into her locker mirror,  shocking red hair pulled back into a plain pony tail,  slightly rounded face with freckles lining her nose upon pale skin.  Slamming the door shut, she hated the way she looked,  anger boiling  inside her as she would storm out of the school.

Trudging down the streets,  she would start heading for the grocery store, the days events weighing upon her and fouling up her already spoiled mood. To make things worse, it began to rain and she only had her favorite black hoody on.

" Can't a girl catch a break!"  she would yell out to the clouds as they down poured upon her drenching her within minutes, flattening her hair down to head.  Sweater dripping,  uniform beneath soaked through, along with knee high socks and sneakers.

That was when a hand gripped her mouth from behind her, grabbing her back pack and heaving her down a side alley before she could even scream.  Those dark eyes widened, as the back pack was ripped from her shoulders and she was rudely thrust up against a brick wall which her cheek was roughly grinded into. 

Something was poked into her back, perhaps a knife...a gun maybe?   A raspy growling voice would whisper into her ear.

" so pretty..."  it would say as deep breaths were taken against her hair.

This poor fellow had chosen wrongly this night, as fear and anger boiled together and reach to a fever pitch.  She would remain still not bothering to yell for help, as she would reach out with her mind to touch this disturbed males mind.

He would quiet and go still, the pressure holding her squished to the wall would release as heavy foot steps would move back.

Tori would turn to look upon her would be attacker, a vile man and yet one who looked completely ordinary....she couldn't allow him to continue this.  From the shadows they would start coming,  the streets usually  invisible residents creeping upon the scene. 

Raccoons, dogs, cats, rats.....pouring in from all sides. The man knew what was going on, he was perfectly aware, could see, feel, hear....but his body was cemented to the spot as this strange girl stared at him.

Without blinking, she watched the animals creep near and sit in waiting.  Another second past and with racing heart, she would force the man to kneel and then to lay upon the ground.  She could see panic in his eyes as he saw the half starving beasts surrounding him. 

And that would be the last she saw of him, turning to pick up her back pack as she would leave him still frozen there. Darting out the back of the alley,  as growls and yowls would rise behind her along with a mans plaintive cries.

She didn't look back, tears burning her eyes,  just running into the crowded main street without much thought as she blurred past people.  Trying to outrun her feelings, what she had just done, what he had been about to do.

She shouldn't have done that, there would be reports no doubt of the flocking of animals and about that man who had appeared to lie down to be devoured.  Hopefully no one had seen her, as she would pull up her soaked hood and continue running.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

Waking up was just to much.  It was bad enough I had to sleep on a plastic chair at the bus terminal, but the headache I woke up with was just a little to much. 
   'I gotta figure this shit out.' I woke up thinking. 'Maybe I should just see a doctor already. Godammit, that's what she would have said.' 
   I grab a Moon Pie from a vending machine as I walk out to have a cigarette. I grab a paper after I light up.
"METRA DISASTER IN THE SOUTH METRO, TERRORISTS?"
No crew survivors, only passenger still missing
   'Fuck.' I finish my cigarette as I read the rest of the front page of the article. I scan the rest of the page for anything else interesting walking back into the terminal to buy some cheap coffee.
"FIVE MEN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING IN SAME ALLEY"
Five young men, including a state representitve's son, were struck by lightning last night downtown.  They were also found to be severly banged up after what looks like a bar fight.  Sources say the boys believe this was the act of a rouge angel, punishing them for their mis-deeds.
   "He was in the alley and we were leaving, and he just attacked us." Says Theodore Hawkins, "Lightning was coming out of his hands and he was all lit up like he was a light bulb."
   Authorities are not currently doing any investigation on the assailant, but..."

     I opened my eyes wider with every word. 
   'Could there be someone else like me who can't control his anger?'  I shake my head and take another sip of the shittiest coffe on earth and let the thought go.
   I look up at the time and departure schedule.
   'Another fucking day till I can get away.' I blook back at my paper,
"REMAINS OF MAN FOUND IN BARRINGTON HEIGHTS"
Remains of Sean Mohwald were found at around midnight last night after what would appear as a pack of random animals from the common house cat to racoons, to all number of native snakes mutilated most of his body.  The fatal blow? A neck laceration assumed to be caused by a squirrel. The wierd part? Authorities say that the victim, laying back down, never moved or appears to have defended himself.  Local animal control is..."

   I start looking for the comics as I say out loud, "Well, that's just fucked up." 
O/O

NotoriusBEN

Sitting at a Starbucks, Ben sipped his coffee. Black. Much to the chagrin of the baristas at the counter. Can't a guy just get a black coffee anymore? No sugar, no cream, he'll add it if he want's to, just make a cup already. The local news station was spouting out pretty much the same thing as the paper.

Ben chuckled, "Terrorists, para-normals, and the occult. Three nice and shock value topics." He listened for about five minutes, just long enough to know hear the details, but short enough that the pundits and 'analysts' couldn't get started. "Experts, my ass..." One gentleman on TV was discussing the possibility of a connection between the three. "Look at him," Ben said to no one in particular, "he probably just wiki'ed those topics ten minutes ago."

All three topics were nothing new to Ben. He had served in Iraq, and Fallujah. He fought the rag-heads and was blown up on more than one occasion from IEDs. That was probably what lead him to the other two topics. For all intents and purposes, he should be dead, but something kept him alive and it was something in him. After he mustered out of the service, he read books on the occult and paranormality. Most was garbage, but there were a few half-truths and corroborating thesises to help filter it out. The problem anymore was that EVERYONE had an opinion and EVERYONE could post garbage on the internet. "Certainly wasnt like the old days with Merlin, Nostradamus, and Rasputin..."

"Hmm? You say something?"

"Err.. no, just talking to myself." Finishing off his coffee, Ben stepped out and headed for the train station. "Maybe it won't be windy today..." Some things couldnt be wished for...

NotoriusBEN

((well, I cant edit my post and I realize I might have used some slurs in the above post. Eh, my character is a little bitter about Iraq...  I like the newspaper posts, Mist. I got a kick out of them))

Anosas

The usual morning rituals would proceed without hitch, parents would be off to work,  sister would be off to the mall before school started which left Tori home alone.  She didn't mind it much, slipping into her uniform of black and grey plaid skirt with white blouse and black vest over top.  Pulling on her knee high socks and touching it off with black heeled boots that resembled feminine army boots. 

A loud blue tie die zip up hoody sweater was pulled on over that, and grabbing up her back pack, she would lock up and head out towards her favorite breakfast hang out...Denny's!

The weather didn't seem that bad this morning as she looked out the glass of the screen door, tieing up the laces of her boots that seemed to have more hooks and loops than was really necessary.  Her reflection caught her eye as she would turn her cheek slightly,  a scrap apparent from last nights fiasco. Ignoring it,  she would press out of her house and start striding down the street, her fingers curled about the straps of her back pack.

Perhaps today would turn out to be a better day then yesterday,  darting across the busy car and pedistrian filled roads and side walks closing in on her target.  Already she could taste the fluffy chocolate chip pan cakes drowned in syrup,  her steps quickening as her stomach growled its hunger.

Passing by the newspaper stand she would pause reading the head liners.  Those dark eyes widening slightly,  quickly she would fork over the change to the vendor and snatch up a paper.  That story...it was about her!...well...not her really....at least...no body could possibly know it was her right?

Of course not, how could they track it down to her....it was a bunch of animals that had done it....why would they look for a human behind it or even a high school girl.  Still she couldnt escape the chilly feeling of being watched,  the icy grip of possibly being caught for what she could do.


Wild storys flittered around her head about area 51 and what the government would do to people like her who had such gifts.  Would she be tortured?  would they turn her into a weapon of mass destruction....or worse would they experiment on her?

"  get a grip they don't know its you"  she would mumble to herself, as her eyes continued to stare at the page with growing panic.  Unfortunately she wasn't watching where she was going and walked head long into a man that was exiting a star bucks and ended up being knocked back.  Pulled down by the weight of her back pack, gravity would cling to her and she would be going down.....you could almost hear someone call TIMBER!!
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

AceShriner

Name: Aislinn

Age: 19

Sex: Male

Race: White

Proficiency: Summoning (Two types, Physical and Ephemeral)

Hometown: Nomadic, lacks a home.

AceShriner

Staggering out a back alley, Aislinn loosed a sickly cough. "The rain is so cruel to me..." he muttered with an exapserated tone. It had been days since he last had a good nights sleep and a warm meal yet it seemed to not wear on his mood. His stomach growling he looked up and began to scan the streets and buildings that lined them.

As the begger began to whistle out a tune many a person would place a thier loose change in front of him. Or they would stare at his appearance. He stood at an average 5"9' and wore a pair of olive drab fatigues matched by an olive drap coat. His shoes where worn and black, the laces frayed at each end. His shirt was a simple gray t-shirt which fit to his body loosely. On his head he held a thin pair of rectangular glasses which shielded his green eyes and a matching olive drab boonie hat which hid his dirty blonde shoulder length hair as it hung down the sides of his head.

As each person passed his tune grew further and further away untill at long last he was left with a simple smile. Turning he left the change on the ground and proceeded into a Denny's he saw two streets down, pulling and counting wallet after wallet from his many pockets.

Mist

I browse the menu at the little breakfast bar in the terminal.  All overpriced and none of it edible.  I walk to a subway and stop at the stairs.
   'Bad idea.' I think to myself as I grab a taxi.
   "Closest Denny's, please."
   We start down the busy street.  I watch as the meter keeps increasing in price. I see it reach ten dollars and I check my wallet.  Denny's in sight, I yell up at the cabby over indian music, "Here is fine."
   He pulls over and I pay him.  I turn around to see a young girl in a school uniform bounce off of a man leaving Starbucks. I pause, suddenly held in place, watching the incident.
O/O

NotoriusBEN

*Sigh* Man, the wind is picking up again. Ben takes big swallow of his coffee, relieving the knotted caffeine vise in his head... and bumped hard into something.

"What the-" Ben spilled hot coffee all over himself as he tripped and tried to right himself, with the unknown person. After a couple of suspenseful moments, he finally fell to the ground in comical and unceremonious fashion.

"Ahh, Dammit that's hot! Man, my shirt!" Ben tried to wipe away some of the hot liquid from his shirt but to no avail. It would be stained and it was all he had until he could go to a store later. Without looking at who he bumped into, "Watch where your going..."

Mist

I take a step forward and help the girl to her feet, completely ignoring the toppled cursing man.  Only then do I notice her appearance.   
   After a little too long of a pause I finally blurt out, "Are you ok?" as I brush your sweater and bag free of the cities filthyness.
O/O

Anosas

The paper she had been reading was strewn across the pavement of the side walk,  the bold captions  stareing  up at them all.   She hit the pavement a hiss being released  as she would land on her butt,  rubbing at it now.   The wind would catch her skirt and she would cry out, arms flailing to push it down,  as she look moodily to the man who be telling her to watch where she's going. 

She was very tempted to make him go walk into a pool or something. "  and what about you  who the hell comes out of a store and just stands there like an idiot"   she would bark back as a man who had been watching the whole scene came to help her up. 

However he seemed to be stareing at here a little too long, and uneasiness filled her.  Why was he stareing?   it wasn't like she was pritty or anything.  Her eyes flicked to the papers that screamed out the headlines and those dark orbs would widen to saucers. .....

....he couldn't know...could he? .......she watched the papers go skidding along the ground in all directions and sighed.  So much for that. 

"  ya I'm...I'm  fine  "  she would say as he brushed her off,  straightening out her skirt and resituating her back pack.   "  thanks"

Ducking her head low she would start to press past the two men,  gripping the straps of her back pack  as she started to bee line it for Denny's.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

I watch her walk away untill she turned into the Denny's.  I take a step toward the Denny's before I realize my path is still blocked.  I step to the side and help the man to his feet.
   "How about you? You gonna make it?" Once he is to his feet I take off my button down Dickies work shirt and hand it to him.  "Its a little dirty, but at least its dry.
O/O

RegularRaskolnikov

If you're willing to accept someone who hasn't been accepted yet then I'd gladly play as a villain. If not, then I simply won't post anything after this.

Name: Vincent Worchovsky

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Race: White

Proficiency: Ability to enhance his physical prowess in terms of speed, strength, bone density, etc.

Hometown: Boulder, Colorado
I simply did something that I was too stupid to realize I couldn't do.

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=79577.0
((ons and offs because I cannot make hide nor hair of this internet sorcery))

Mist

(Feel free to toss some back story in here and there about your character but give us a chance to meet and get to know each other a little better before you go rampaging villages raping and pillaging.  Thanks!)
O/O

RegularRaskolnikov

((Oh, don't worry about that. I don't want to be that kind of villain.))

Weak gray light filtered through the Venetian blinds in feeble, dusty strips. It washed the room in an ashy light, so that the room resembled a mockery of itself rather than being a tangible place. Of course, the fact that Victor was almost blind drunk might have had something to do with that.

He hacked and snorted grotesquely, bringing a calloused hand to swipe across his unshaven face. The amber liquid sloshed warmly in the smudged glass clutched in a leathery hand. He took another quiet sip, his dull green eyes scanned the paper nestled in his lap. He had read it three times over, and he still couldn't quite seem to process it.

Perhaps his presence here was having some more diverse effects than he had experienced before. Or, more likely, there were either people or things with similar abnormalities. Lightning strikes and animal killings. He wondered briefly if there might have been something odd in that terrorist attack. He waved his hand dismissively and attributed his suspicions to his lack of paranoia about terrorist activity. Being homeless, he didn't exactly need to worry about being targeted (provided his activities remain secret). Apart from that, who the hell would want to attack Chicago? He had to admit that the place held a certain...(he cast his eyes about the room)..grimy...charm.

He stood up, swaying slightly and pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his brown wool coat. He scratched the head of a match on his thumbnail, his red nostrils absorbed the acrid smell of sulfur, and pulled. He shambled into the bathroom and gazed dully into the cracked mirror, studying his gaunt face. His skin looked unhealthy, the color of old paper. His hair hung in grimy tendrils. He laughed at his reflection. Maybe he shouldn't be looking down on a shitty room in Chicago.

Still grinning with the crushed cigarette dangling feebly from his broad mouth he left the hotel room. He didn't know exactly how he was going to find out anything in this city, but he may as well investigate and see what else he could sniff out (If anything). His grin fell when a weary sigh rasped from his throat, and he shuffled off down the wet pavement with his head down and his hands thrust into his coat pockets.
I simply did something that I was too stupid to realize I couldn't do.

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=79577.0
((ons and offs because I cannot make hide nor hair of this internet sorcery))

NotoriusBEN

"Well, dammit... I need a new shirt," Thinking for a moment over his spilt cup, he followed after the girl, but not with the girl "but first, a new coffee." Anybody asking him is answered with, "What? Coffee's coffee. And its cheaper here."

His shirt and pants feel ice cold with the wind picking up.


((Hmm... I guess we should discuss some of the effects and characteristics of magic. Can we sense other magicians? We know about the different specialites, but what are some of the similarities about casters? I dont want to just make something up out of the blue and be called on it.))

Anosas

Within the safety of the Denny's she would be given her usual table at the back of the room,  slumping into the booth.  The scent of the breakfast delights playing upon the air and tickling at her nose,  the waitress would already be getting her usual of coffee and orange juice. 

Well that could have gone a lot worse,  the man could have set off her temper and brought out her inner demon as she called it.  Still she thought it would have been amusing to have made him walk into a poll or something.

Setting her back pack on the seat beside her, she wouldn't bother with the menu as the waitress returned with her drinks.  Now if the others had followed and happened to look to at the spot Tori was sitting they would witness something strange.

Tori would be staring up at the woman,  a blank expression upon her face, however her eyes would be intense.  Those oceanic blues almost seeming to expand within her eyes,  while the waitress would seemed to be writing in a hypnotic sort of way.

Neither Tori nor the waitress spoke,  as the girl would look away and the waitress would depart to apparently to fill the order....casting strange glances back at the red head who was proceeding to pull out her nights home work.

"  that girl is nice but...there's something about her that gives me the creeps....i feel like i cant control what im doing around her"  the waitress would complain to a coworker within ear shot of those entering. 

The co worker  would glance in Tori's direction, "  I know what you mean..."
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

(After some thought here are some characteristics of the casters and magic.
1. Casters abilities have no effect on other casters.
2. Casters can see a different color of other caster's eyes. We see black in our eyes and other caster's, but the rest of society sees green.

I think that is two good ones to start out with, we can add more as the story needs it and as long as its not absolutly out of some reason, feel free to add something.  Good call though, Ben.)

Walking the blocks to Denney's, I keep thinking there is something that seemed familiar about that girl.  Do I know her? If so, from where?  Home? I couldn't put a finger on it.  And then it hit me, her eyes.  They were the same color as mine.

Quickening my pace I was through the door in a matter of seconds. I looked all around till I noticed her in a booth to my right.  I paused to question the creepyness of what I was about to do. Would she call the cops? Shit, that would be bad as their probably already looking for me.

Then I realize what I have to do.  She will know its me.  She will have to. I walk back out the door and light a smoke.  Standing with my back turned next to the window at her booth, I move her knife, fork, and spoon to her seat.  Reforming them into thin strands of stainless steel I spell it out,
"Black eyes"
O/O

Anosas

There she was minding her own business, sipping her coffee minding her own business when movement on the table catches the corner of her eyes.   A gasp spills from her lips and she barely manages to keep from dropping her cup.

Her cutlery spelling out "Black eyes"

Who knew....was this some dirty trick, it couldn't be cause how else had the cutlery just reformed like that.

Glancing up to see  the waitress returning, the red head hurriedly would throw her homework back into her back pack.  Hidding the now malformed silver wear,  she throws money onto the table and darts out past her waitress who looks startled after her.

Breaking out of the Denny's as she shoves her back pack on, her eyes dart right and left, nobody in the diner had those eyes.  So it had to be someone out here close by,  and then she spots him. Standing beside the window that would have been near her booth,  also the same man who had helped her get to her feet.

She cant remember whether or not he had black eyes too,  he must have other wise how would he have known.  Hooking her thumbs into the straps of her backpack she moves towards him,  scowling slightly.

Standing a little out of reaching distance, she  casts her glance about the area, last thing she needed was for this to be a trick.

" nice trick..."

She finally says to him and waits for his response.  " what do you want"
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

I finish the last drag of my cigarette and crush it into the pavement as I watch her come out of the resturant.  As she makes her way towards me, I look to see  her face, read her expressions, make sure im right.  Her eyes are black, no two ways about it.

She came across to me as a little stuck up, but not full of herself.  She had an underlying confidence somehow.  When she asked me what I wanted, I took a step back.  She was intimidating to say the least.  He had never looked into another set of black eyes. 

"I want to know what it means.  Can you do anything like that?" I ask pointing to the window where she had been sitting.  "No can ever see my eyes.  They always say I have green eyes. But all I see in the mirror is black.  I just want to know what it means, and I was hoping you would know."
O/O

Anosas

Tori would stare up at this strange man with furrowed brows,  her arms folded across her chest in that closed off way. 

Her dark eyes would flicker over towards the window as he pointed, and nibbled upon her lower lip as she considered him for a moment. Sighing she would reach a hand up to fiddle with her fiery pony tail, perhaps a nervous twitch as she would come to stand closer to him.

"  It means your a spell caster,"   she would say softly, carefully watching those who were walking around or by them.  She kept her tone low like she didn't want anyone to hear,  like she was afraid of being found out.

" You should research more,  spell casters eyes always appear green to normal people.....black to other spell casters"  She would look up at him, jeez adults could be so clueless sometimes. 

" I can do things, yes...not like that...mines different"  she would answer his question about whether she could do anything like he could.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

NotoriusBEN

Ben went to the restroom at Denny's to get the stain out of his shirt the best he could. A futile effort that left the cloth a dingy brown. Muttering to himself he zipped up his jacket and stepped to the counter to order a coffee to go. No where near as good as a Starbucks, but he didn't have the cash to just buy another one from that store. He just started to walk out the door again, when the teenage girl sped past him, making him spill his coffee... *AGAIN*!!

"Gah-! Dammit!" Once would have been tolerable, but twice? Nope... She's getting a piece of Ben's mind now. He stormed over to her and the guy she was talking with, getting ready to tell her what for... and he froze.

"Black eyes..." He knew there were others, there had to be, but meeting two at the same time gave Ben pause. The fact that they were younger than him sent a myriad of thoughts through his mind about a possible reemergence of magic in the known world, to sheer coincidence, and the possibilities of 2012.

"You two, come with me..." He ordered them with the practiced voice of a Sergeant, and walked past them and waited slightly for them follow, if they would. His mind warred within and at himself. Why should he take them under his wing? He didn't have to, but there was a lot that they probably didn't know about. Pitfalls that could consume them if they weren't careful. Hell, HE didn't know what to look for, but talking with a couple other magi might corroborate certain truths and dispel other myths. It was incredibly presumptuous to assume that they would follow him, but maybe curiosity would tempt them.

When they ask, "We are going to my place because one, I need a new shirt. Two, I have some reference material about our... condition. And three, we need some place without prying eyes and ears."

((hehe, Tori is probably used to 'willing' normal people out of her way. It's the only way I can explain all the times she bumped Ben so far))


Anosas

It seemed luck was not with Ben as Tori made him spill yet another coffee,  though she had been so intent upon meeting up with Mist she hadn't realised  that it was him she had jarred.  She hadn't even really clued in that he was the only she seemed to bump into either.

The fiery red head would turn to gaze at Ben when his voice met their ears.....HE HAD BLACK EYES TOO?!

Fear was starting to grip the teenage girls mind and body,  panic flickering within her...it was one thing to run into one person of magick...but two?  Slowly she began to back up,  her hands lifted in front of her in a motion that would remind someone of warding off another.

" hey, look...I don't know what you two are trying to pull here.....but  whatever it is I don't want any part of it"

Glancing between Ben and Mist, this was getting a little too weird, she had been okay with the knowledge there were others out there but never expected to find any. All she had wanted was breakfast,  that's all...and now it had turned into a meeting of the magi....

She would look at Mist and point after Ben " he seems to know more then me...so bye now!" 

Turning her eyes would dart around the street in waiting to cross, she was just going to go to school, and pretend this never happened.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

Mist

There I stood between a man telling him to follow him walking away to his house and a girl who thought she was being abducted.

"Wait!" I almost yelled.  Turning to the girl, "I don't know you, and I don't know him," pointing at the man, still walking down the street,"from Adam! Look, you both seem to have answers and that's all I want."

I grab a cigarette out of my pack and light it.  I walk to the girl and talk to her back.  "No offence, but i'm sure you can't know everything about us, neither can he for that matter.  Don't you want to know more? Don't you wonder what a guy his age knows?"

I take another drag and wonder what abilities they had.  How do they control it? Where does it come from? All these questions and more twisted my mind in a knot. I attempt to clear my head with the final drag of my cigarette, hoping to hear one of them answer me.
O/O

Anosas

Tori would sigh and glance back at Mist, and then to Ben who was disappearing, nibbling upon her lower lip.  Shrugging her backpack upon her shoulders, she grumbles to herself, and starts moving after Ben.

"  alright alright,  let's go....but the minute anything funny happens Im so gone"   She warns mist,  continuing to move after Ben. 

Irritation causes a direct split in those walking on the side walk so always Ben is in full view, and Tori's way is unhindered.

" i cant believe Im doing this"  she mummbles to herself.
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

NotoriusBEN

Ben slowed down and waited for the other two to catch up. They were following him now, so that part of his mind was made up. As they walked down the street, Ben noticed that people were parting the sidewalk before them.

"You need to stop that, if you can." He looked to the boy, then the girl. After a moment he settled with the girl. "It's not wrong to use your talents in computers, but you two need to get a little lesson in ethics before you just start diving in and fiddling with the code." He chose his words carefully, putting a noticable inflections on certain words. Other people might think he was strange for emphasising certain words, but the two who were following him knew what he was talking about.

After a few more minutes walking, they came to Ben's street. "My apartment is up the way here. It's not much, but it's clean. No, it's not full of weird stuff. But first, we should introduce each other." He stopped and held out his hand in greetings. "My name is Ben. Pleased to meet the both of you."

Mist

I follow intent on my questions being answered.  The Code? There's a code? Shit, am I gonna be punished for what happened with the train? More quesdtions arose. 
"I'm Mist.  Nice to meet you Ben."  I shake his hand and turn to the girl.  "Mist." I hold my hand out. "So what can you two do?"
O/O

Anosas

As Ben would ask her to cease the parting of the crowds, she would let out a breath and with great effort the crowds would start swarming the side walks once more.  However whenever one came close to bumping into her they would suddenly veer off,  apparently she just couldn't help herself when it came to her own person...she didn't really like to be touched.

Glancing at Ben and Mist's hands, she would just nod curtly to them both " Tori...pleasure"  she would reply.  It's not that she was stuck up, but she was your typical moody teenager,  who was following two strange men and wondering what in the world she was doing following them.

Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

NotoriusBEN

"Pleased to meet the both of you, then." The trio walked up the stairs to Ben's apartment. It was mostly clean, but anyone knew a bachelor pad when they saw it. In the living room were piles and piles of books, some in danger of tipping over. A cursory glance saw books ranging from tarot, to the occult, to new age medicine, biographies on many prominent persons in history, and many thesises about psychology, para-normality, and ESP.  Near the computer desk were piles of stapled papers that ranged much of the same topics.

"Erm... sorry about the mess. Research and all. Oh, there's also some soda in the fridge, if you two are thirsty." Looking at Mist, he added, "Booze is off limits, and if you need a smoke, the awning is over there."

After a few more moments of pleasantries, Ben took a seat in his favorite chair and let the other two take the ends of the couch across from him. "Ok. I guess it's time to talk about who we are and what we do."

Taking a deep breath, Ben continued, "Sorry for the life story, but I grew up in Seattle, and had a run of the mill childhood and time in high school. I joined the military and I served during the invasion of Iraq. I lost a few friends over there, and a few times I probably should have died, but I didnt. I manifested over there, during a firefight, which is probably what attributes to my trigger, more on that later.

Things were bad in Fallujah, and many wont talk about it, but suffice it to say, there were magi on boths sides, all of them cowboys. They weren't part of a larger group. Hell, the US Armed Forces didnt even know about magi. A lot of the news stories about IEDs werent exploded from munitions, they were about certain individuals who could turn mass into energy. We were all new to this, or there would have been much more weird stuff that wouldnt be explainable.  After that, well, we went home. I havent been keeping in contact with any of my friends from the service, so who knows what's what anymore."

Ben took a gulp from his water glass and continued about magic. "As far as research with magic, sorry kids, I'm learning this stuff as I go as well. I've bought books and spent plenty of time on the net, but there are *no* experts in this field. Well, no one that's respected anyways. Quite a few dubious ones though... A few hundred years of witch hunts, inquisitions, and general apathy towards mysticism has pretty much killed off magic. If I had to peg a recent figure in history as a mage, I'd have to say Rasputin of Russia comes close, but he's either dead, or a hermit in the Russian Steppes.

You can call me over cautious, but look at history if you need proof about magic being ostracised. This is serious stuff and if you dont use it wisely, it will come back at you, whether through public awareness, or even a Magic Burn.

Well... that's what I have to say, for starters. I'd at least like you to tell me about yourselves before choosing if you want to learn more with me, or just walking out."

Mist

I sat and listened as Ben layed his story out. As soon as the word mage was uttered, I sprang and walked to the awning with a labored step.  Lighting my cigarette, I finished hearing Ben ask about us.

   "Well, Ben, I'm happy to hear things have not been as much of a struggle as some.  Ill include myself in that category by first telling you that my trigger, as you call it, seems to be connected to some kind of anger in the form of seperation seperation anxiety. 

   I am from a little toen in northern Minnesota called Blackduck.  My mother left my father for a random man on a Harley at a gas station when I was ten.  Dad was paying for gas and she just waled over to him, took him by the balls and jumped on the back.  I haven't seen her to this day since."

I walk to the kitchen and grab a pop. 

   "Dad and I were thick as theives.  He taught me everything he knew about engines.  Gas, diesel, two-stroke, marine, tractors all of it.  High school is where things went south.  Started dating this girl..."  my breath becomes heavier and I take a sip of pop. 

   "We didn't last.  I started working on a classic tractor and was very upset, it didn't help that I was loosing patience with the machine.  I lost my temper, which is not uncommon while im working on cars, and I punched the block.  The engine just popped to life.   I had done nothing on the engine.  What I had done was transmission work, brakes, and the axles.  Some of which was not completed.

   The old thing took off as my dad come into the barn to console me..."  another break for a breath and sip.

   "I was cleared of all those charges at that trial. Made my way south and Chicago is as good a place to start over as any right? 
   I don't know anything about what this is. All I have learned since being here is how angry I have to be to do anything and that my ability is metal manipulation in general.  For some reason I have a strong aptitude for engine work though.  I can fix it even if I don't know what's wrong. 

   That's me.  Fill in the blanks with whatever.  Im broke, homeless, and a freak. "

I sit back down and shake my head and sip on my pop, contemplating another smoke.
O/O

RegularRaskolnikov

((Whew! Sorry about the absence. Internet troubles over here. I'm up and running again, though))

Victor trudged down the sidewalk with a slightly wavering gait. His worn shoes slapped the pavement awkwardly. It was pretty evident that the mass amount of Gin were beginning to have its effect on his tall, wiry body. Still, it was how he kept himself in check. He had been analyzing the small, telltale signs of what he called "affliction" in himself for the past few months. He briefly wondered if his years of alcoholism had had any adverse effects on the manifestation of his newfound abilities. 

He mopped a clump of damp brown hair from in front of his eyes and looked up. The sky was still the flat, listless shade of gray, deepening now into a somber charcoal color. Shit, it was getting late. Almost time for him to find a place to bunk.

He nudged his way unsteadily through the crowd. His sunken eyes searching drunkenly for an appealing patch of dry cement or a lonely brick wall for him to rest his back against. It was his usual routine. He shrugged inwardly, not getting caught up in the futile derelict monotony that was his present life. In the middle of his introspective stumbling he was interrupted by the sight of three people entering a small appartment building.

That was nothing even worth noting. The two young men and the even younger girl were just more cogs in the clockwork in this city, at least that's what he would have dismissed them as had he not caught a glimpse of their eyes. One of the men, clutching a lit cigarette, had turned his head briefly before entering the building. For a second he caught eyes as black as pitch. Black eyes! Those same onyx almonds that stared at him from the mirror!

Well now. That was interesting. He continued to stumble drunkenly past, not saying a word. They were gone and inside in an instant. Without a thought he turned into the nearest alleyway and slumped against the wall. Perhaps his self induced pilgrimage was coming to some sort of conclusion.He sighed wetly, resting against the wall of the alley, just another piece of the scenery, and waited patiently.

He really wished gravity would stop moving in so many damn directions!
I simply did something that I was too stupid to realize I couldn't do.

https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=79577.0
((ons and offs because I cannot make hide nor hair of this internet sorcery))

Anosas

With Ben and Mist telling their stories, Tori had found a place to sit and curl up in after grabbing herself a pop. Moody eyes drifted over the mountains of books,  and thinking Ben was probably a looney...he was one of them but a looney. When silence fell she would look up and blink as they looked at her expectantly and sigh would fall from her lips.

"  Moved here from Niagra Falls, because my father got a big break in his job. My parents are oblivious to my...talents....my sister thinks she knows what I can do.  I don't like to be touched."

She looked at them both pointedly, as if to say, so keep your hands away from me.

"  my talents stem from the need for personal space.....but basically I can control anything with a conscious mind. Humans,  animals, insects.....and"

Lifting a finger towards the scrape that marred the flesh of her chin,  concentrating on something particularly pleasant in thought she would touch the fingers of her right hand to the wound. Before their eyes, the wound would seem to lurch into fast forward, scabbing, scarring and then disappearing without a trace.

" healing" Shed reply in case they hadn't caught on to what she could do, even though they had just seen it for themselves.  " that one I can control by pleasant thoughts." 

Leaning back into the seat she had momentarily taken over,  she raised the can of the bubbly beverage and took a long drink from it.  School would be starting about now,  shed have to make something up as to why she wasn't in any of her classes today.

"  so then....what now..." 
Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63

NotoriusBEN

"Hmm, well that tosses most of my theories out." Ben fumed in the general direction of the other two. "But, it seems that our triggers are emotionally charged. If only I had a real magic tome. This internet drivel is useless. Im chasing red herrings in a discipline that flies in the face of modern thinking..." He begins to rub his eyes in consternation.

"Well, if you want to practice and do research into this, your both welcome to come by. Ive been staring at this stuff for seven years, it would help to have others' perspective... One other thing.." He rose and walked to the awning, looking out over some of suburbia and at the skyscrapers of downtown. "We've found each other by happenstance after years of isolation. I cant believe it's mere co-incidence, it'd be like winning the lotto... twice. There may be others in Chicago that are like us. Others that may Know what magic is and run the gamut of society. I'd like to have each others' cell numbers so that we can check in or have more people to call for help if need be. This stuff aint kid's play and history has shown a LOT of people that have abused power given to them..."

((sorry, ive been having a writer's block in this story >.> ))

Mist

I sat there and listened to Ben theorise about what I was and who I am.  It was hard to think that this could be coincidence, yes.  But now what? Do we just start reading and learning about those before us? Do we start fighting evil like superheros?

   "I'd give you my number if I had one.  Hell id give you my address, but I lack one of those too.  I've been staying in shelters in the 'burbs."

I take a smoke out and light it as I join Ben under the awning.

   "What do we practice for? What are we learning for? We ar just freaks and just need to let our, umm, "skills" be part of the background if you ask me.  Why risk drawing attention to ourselves? Hell, I made the front page this morning! For all I know they are already looking for me."

I take another few drags as I think more to myself out loud.

   "I can control it.  Its just an abnormality that I have to deal with."  Looking back at Ben and Tori I ask, "what do you two do? I can twist metal  and manipulate an engine, you obviously have some kind of mind control.  So, what do you posses? What's your "power?"

As I start almost raising my voice I throw my arms up. My cigarette's hot cherry flys into the air and falls on Tori's exposed knee without my notice.
O/O

Anosas

Listening to Ben, a frown would curve those petal lips, as sigh would push out in slight exasperation and a submission to the cause. Pulling back pack free, the peel of zippers being opened zinging through the air and the sounds of one rummaging through books and papers was heard. 

Fat purple crayola marker that boasted smelling of grapes, and being washable,  would whisk across lined paper.  The lid held between pearly teeth, though incisors seemed to be a little sharper then most peoples, which often got her the nick name fangs or vampire.

Stuffing the lid back over the chubby marker, it would be carelessly tossed within her back, the number she scrawled upon the page would be rudely torn out and thrust in set upon a table before Ben.

" your.....not the only one...who made headlines"  she would stutter out unsure.  Settling back down she had just turned her eyes upon Mist when...

"AHH"  A pained cry would splice the air as pale hand would slam against the knee which had just been burnt by the glowing cherry of his cigarette.  Quickly brushing the burning bits of tobacco and paper from her now painful hand and knee,  the pieces loosing that angry glow before hitting the floor now that they had been smothered by her. 

Tears smarted her eyes,  as blister started to form where the heat had made most contact with her flesh. 

"Gawd..."  she would groan, hissing air through her teeth to breath through pain, lips pressed together as she would punch the arm of the chair she was settled on. "  damn it be more careful"  shed yell at mist in surprised and pained anger.

Slave girls, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "They are stinking, meaningless, lascivious little sluts who have been as slaves in the arms of Gorean men. It has spoiled them for freedom. They are worthless, sensuous little beasts whose passions Gorean men have seen fit, as cruel masters, to ignite. Their sexuality, their shamelessness, their needs, their helplessness, makes them an insult to free women...."
---Fighting Slave of Gor, 4:63