08-26-2016, 02:31 PM
He couldn't breathe. It was just for a moment. Cain could see Nox using magic, could feel the Air spell in front of him. Intellectually, he knew that all he had to to was take a step back and he'd be fine. It probably wouldn't have been any issue at all if Nox hadn't thrown a fireball at him at the same time. But all of it together... the feeling of sucking in air with the wall impeding his way reminding him of trying to breathe through the pillow smothering him, of reaching desperately for anything to save him and coming up with magic. The was fire splashing across the wall a fraction of an inch in front of his eyes, so close that he could feel its heat. It reminded him of the fire that had burst from him in his grandparent's flat. Cain remembered the color of his grandmother's blood leaking out onto their floor.
If Nox's goal was to make him channel, then he succeeded. In his instant of reflexive, sympathetic terror, Cain grabbed hold of his magic. The heady rush of it didn't make him feel better though, and just further reminded him of what it had felt like to be absolutely certain that he was going to die. He kept drawing deeper and deeper, to the point where it physically pained him. The redhead wanted to keep going, but his fear was beginning to abate, and in its place was the kind of rage that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Suddenly, Cain wanted nothing more than to go and pummel that smug arsehole into a bloody pulp. He could still feel the icy grip of terror in his heart, so he acted quickly before his rage swept his magic away from him. The redhead grabbed just a tiny bit more of the power in reflexive protest of the thought, ignoring how it ached. Although he'd never tried the spell before, he remembered how Nox had used that strange aspect of magic to cut through Cain's wall of air. It was probably complicated, more so than he was used to, but the magician was singularly focused. Once the Ethereal threads were in place, it sliced through the other man's spell like butter. It seemed to affect not the air, or the wall, but the threads of magic themselves.
Cain tried to control himself. It had been years since he'd last gotten into a fight. He'd since learned all sorts of strategies for managing his anger... But the sight of Nox with his back turned to him, lecturing Cruz like nothing had happened... It made all those carefully earned techniques slip right out of his head. After everything, that was what made the redhead snap. There was nothing Cain hated like being treated like he was worthless, like he was just some toy that Nox could play around with, some thing that Nox could pick up off the street and then use however he wanted because he was smarter, richer, prettier...
Before he entirely realized what he was doing, Cain had stalked across to the other man, drawing a leg back and snapping a kick forward. He relished the startled look that appeared on Nox's face just before Cain's kick overbalanced the seated man, sending him sprawling onto his back. Even in the height of his anger, reflex had kept his claws sheathed so to speak. He'd gotten into so many schoolyard fights that he knew how to hurt someone without seriously hurting them. He wanted to see Nox bloodied but not dead. More than anything he wanted to teach the bastard a lesson, show him that Cain wasn't someone to be trifled with. He landed one... two more kicks, all with the instep of his foot rather than the pointed toe of his boot. His first kick had hit Nox in the shoulder while he was seated, the next a good blow to his ribs, and the final one his thigh. Cain'd been aiming for another kick to the ribs to make the jerk really feel it, but the man had recovered by that point and raised his leg to absorb the blow.
The redhead drew back his leg again but found himself shoved roughly back, and another wall of air erected hastily in front of him. Cain's anger, which had been ebbing before, suddenly spiked. Nox couldn't fight like a man, could he? Had to resort to magic like a scared little boy? He reached for the Ethereal threads he'd used before, but this time he was so mad that he could barely see straight, let alone fumble with the awkward strings of magic. Frustrated, Cain slammed a fist into the wall in front of him, bruising his knuckles. The only thing that could get his hackles up as fast as feeling worthless was losing a fight.
Fine. In his rage, Cain drew even more deeply of his magic. It actively hurt now, and he felt himself vibrating with more than just anger. The energy of the magic was coursing through him like the worst (but also best) kind of high. He held his hands out before him. Where the other elements were strangers, Fire had been his first magical ally. It had saved him, came to him in his weakest moment. Flames sprang to life easily between his fingers, and the redhead felt a jolt of dark glee at the look of trepidation that crossed Nox's face. The man had tried to make him afraid, but Cain was sick of being terrified. Anger pumped through his body like blood. He refused to be afraid anymore. There was no room for it; his rage burned every other emotion out of him. He...
Wait. Cain looked dumbfounded at the fire in his hands. He wasn't scared.
The thing about Cain's anger was that it burned as fast as it did bright. When he bottled it up, it seethed inside of him, but when it was allowed to combust in the air... when he was allowed to get a few good licks in, then it faded as quickly as it came. He felt... numb. There wasn't rage. There wasn't fear. And yet, there was magic. A feeling of... joy bubbled through him, and the redhead allowed the fire in his hands to burn out, backing off on his grip of his magic until it didn't hurt anymore.
Suddenly, he laughed. He wasn't in bed, being suffocated by an Atharim soldier. He wasn't in his Grandmother's house watching her bleed. He was just in some spoiled rich prick's living room, unafraid, and using magic. (The spoiled prick, for the record, looked fairly freaked out, which was fantastic). For the first time in months, Cain felt powerful, in control. Plus it helped that getting a good fight and scream out of his system had been pretty cathartic.
Cain took a deep breath, and placed his hand flat against Nox's wall. This time, the Ethereal magic came to him easily, and he sliced through the spell. He looked towards Rachel, the only person in the room whom he was actually sorry to have disturbed. "Sorry about that. It's probably not convincing anymore but I swear that I won't do anything... rash."
Turning back towards Nox, Cain raised his hands in the universal symbol of reconciliation, but his expression was hard, chastising. "Don't pull some shite like that again."
Edited by Cain Belasis, Aug 26 2016, 02:41 PM.
If Nox's goal was to make him channel, then he succeeded. In his instant of reflexive, sympathetic terror, Cain grabbed hold of his magic. The heady rush of it didn't make him feel better though, and just further reminded him of what it had felt like to be absolutely certain that he was going to die. He kept drawing deeper and deeper, to the point where it physically pained him. The redhead wanted to keep going, but his fear was beginning to abate, and in its place was the kind of rage that he hadn't felt in a long time.
Suddenly, Cain wanted nothing more than to go and pummel that smug arsehole into a bloody pulp. He could still feel the icy grip of terror in his heart, so he acted quickly before his rage swept his magic away from him. The redhead grabbed just a tiny bit more of the power in reflexive protest of the thought, ignoring how it ached. Although he'd never tried the spell before, he remembered how Nox had used that strange aspect of magic to cut through Cain's wall of air. It was probably complicated, more so than he was used to, but the magician was singularly focused. Once the Ethereal threads were in place, it sliced through the other man's spell like butter. It seemed to affect not the air, or the wall, but the threads of magic themselves.
Cain tried to control himself. It had been years since he'd last gotten into a fight. He'd since learned all sorts of strategies for managing his anger... But the sight of Nox with his back turned to him, lecturing Cruz like nothing had happened... It made all those carefully earned techniques slip right out of his head. After everything, that was what made the redhead snap. There was nothing Cain hated like being treated like he was worthless, like he was just some toy that Nox could play around with, some thing that Nox could pick up off the street and then use however he wanted because he was smarter, richer, prettier...
Before he entirely realized what he was doing, Cain had stalked across to the other man, drawing a leg back and snapping a kick forward. He relished the startled look that appeared on Nox's face just before Cain's kick overbalanced the seated man, sending him sprawling onto his back. Even in the height of his anger, reflex had kept his claws sheathed so to speak. He'd gotten into so many schoolyard fights that he knew how to hurt someone without seriously hurting them. He wanted to see Nox bloodied but not dead. More than anything he wanted to teach the bastard a lesson, show him that Cain wasn't someone to be trifled with. He landed one... two more kicks, all with the instep of his foot rather than the pointed toe of his boot. His first kick had hit Nox in the shoulder while he was seated, the next a good blow to his ribs, and the final one his thigh. Cain'd been aiming for another kick to the ribs to make the jerk really feel it, but the man had recovered by that point and raised his leg to absorb the blow.
The redhead drew back his leg again but found himself shoved roughly back, and another wall of air erected hastily in front of him. Cain's anger, which had been ebbing before, suddenly spiked. Nox couldn't fight like a man, could he? Had to resort to magic like a scared little boy? He reached for the Ethereal threads he'd used before, but this time he was so mad that he could barely see straight, let alone fumble with the awkward strings of magic. Frustrated, Cain slammed a fist into the wall in front of him, bruising his knuckles. The only thing that could get his hackles up as fast as feeling worthless was losing a fight.
Fine. In his rage, Cain drew even more deeply of his magic. It actively hurt now, and he felt himself vibrating with more than just anger. The energy of the magic was coursing through him like the worst (but also best) kind of high. He held his hands out before him. Where the other elements were strangers, Fire had been his first magical ally. It had saved him, came to him in his weakest moment. Flames sprang to life easily between his fingers, and the redhead felt a jolt of dark glee at the look of trepidation that crossed Nox's face. The man had tried to make him afraid, but Cain was sick of being terrified. Anger pumped through his body like blood. He refused to be afraid anymore. There was no room for it; his rage burned every other emotion out of him. He...
Wait. Cain looked dumbfounded at the fire in his hands. He wasn't scared.
The thing about Cain's anger was that it burned as fast as it did bright. When he bottled it up, it seethed inside of him, but when it was allowed to combust in the air... when he was allowed to get a few good licks in, then it faded as quickly as it came. He felt... numb. There wasn't rage. There wasn't fear. And yet, there was magic. A feeling of... joy bubbled through him, and the redhead allowed the fire in his hands to burn out, backing off on his grip of his magic until it didn't hurt anymore.
Suddenly, he laughed. He wasn't in bed, being suffocated by an Atharim soldier. He wasn't in his Grandmother's house watching her bleed. He was just in some spoiled rich prick's living room, unafraid, and using magic. (The spoiled prick, for the record, looked fairly freaked out, which was fantastic). For the first time in months, Cain felt powerful, in control. Plus it helped that getting a good fight and scream out of his system had been pretty cathartic.
Cain took a deep breath, and placed his hand flat against Nox's wall. This time, the Ethereal magic came to him easily, and he sliced through the spell. He looked towards Rachel, the only person in the room whom he was actually sorry to have disturbed. "Sorry about that. It's probably not convincing anymore but I swear that I won't do anything... rash."
Turning back towards Nox, Cain raised his hands in the universal symbol of reconciliation, but his expression was hard, chastising. "Don't pull some shite like that again."
Edited by Cain Belasis, Aug 26 2016, 02:41 PM.