Bucking Convention

Apologies for the... I think almost 2 month hiatus here. New job and writers block is a hell of a combo. Good news tho, chapter 11 is already done and being looked over for release in 2 weeks!

The revolver stayed pointed at Mark's chest. So far, mister Wrasse had left his finger off of the trigger, which was something, at least. With the hammer cocked back, the trigger wouldn't take much to go off. The calm demeanor in which he held the gun spoke to either experience or nerves of steel. When he spoke, there wasn't the command and authority Mark had expected to find, simply a calm, relaxed tone at stark contrast with the weapon. "You'll forgive the precaution, one can never be too careful. It seems the report I read this morning was correct. So, why are you working through the mundane program?"

Mark gripped the arms of the chair, doing what he could to keep from shaking. His mouth felt like sand. "Uhh... I didn't... know there was another program... I'm new to all of this..."

"I suppose depending on the ability, you could be forgiven for not realizing your nature. I suppose you must have been born to mundanes if they never taught you of this. Not common, but not unheard of. Unfortunately, I feel obliged to say you perhaps should have remained ignorant of this aspect of the world, mister Mason." Wrasse moved the firearm slowly away from Mark's chest, pointing beside him instead.

Mark relaxed slightly, taking a breath. While he wasn't safe, he felt better without the thing aimed center mass. "You certainly give memorable introductions..."

Mister Wrasse just smiled slightly as he said, "it's better to have a terrifying introduction than an unexpected end. I'm sure that girl impressed upon you that this world is dangerous. She hasn't been in this city for long but my report on her suggests she knows how dangerous the world can be."

"So... part of your operation is information gathering then? You seem well informed."

Wrasse gave a nod. "Information is another means to power, and a valuable one at that. You'll learn many lessons like this the longer you exist in the Dead Ocean. So, I assume you had some purpose in requesting this little meeting."

Mark nodded slowly, still working to calm himself after the gun brandishing. "It...felt wrong to be working for you and having a secret like this. When I found out that Reef was was also a... I don't even know what the adjective would be, oceanic?"

Wrasse stepped in to clarify with a simple, "aquatic, actually."

Mark continued, nodding in thanks, "when I found that out, I felt I shouldn't hide the fact I've discovered this. I haven't been here long but being able to help others has helped keep my mind busy. I didn't want to keep secrets from the people that helped me..." With the gun still in the equation, Mark hoped that pure and blunt honesty would be an effective defense. Given that mister Wrasse seemed to smile a little broader, it seemed to be working.

"Honesty and sincerity are rare things, though perhaps less so from one who believed himself a mundane until recently. I can't offer much due to the layers of red tape, but I can get the process started to get you the benefits you're owed as a denizen of the Dead Ocean. I am curious what you know of your abilities, however."

Mark decided to err on the side of caution. simple explanations would be the best. "Imara, the girl from yesterday, said I was something called an aeropotent. As far as I can tell, I can make myself a little faster."

"Perhaps a simple ability, but the Source of Winds is often connected to those with clever minds. Consider it a humble beginning, perhaps, as the ability may grow more powerful with time."

Mark nodded slowly, doing his best to seem contemplative. It wasn't much of a task in the way of trying to act. Plenty of ideas and questions danced in his head, random and intersecting, as if Swan Lake were performed by pot bellied rednecks. When Mark finally spoke, he did so only after carefully considering his words. "I'd like to learn more about a few things, if possible. Is there someone I can talk with that can point me in the right direction?"

That earned Mark a small nod of the head from Wrasse, a feeling similar to a teacher's approval coming from the simple gesture. "I believe you'll find Miss Walsh an excellent resource in that regard. She is exceptionally well versed in information gathering techniques and could both point you on your way, as well as teach you a few things, so long as she believes you to be worth teaching."

That statement gave Mark yet more reason to pause. It was yet another thing he'd missed. He'd only seen Tara immediately after running, when his blood was pumping as his mind was elsewhere. In retrospect, it was as obvious as a flashing sign.

'The nametags are the real "simple bit effective" tool.' After that retrospective comment, Mark nodded to Wrasse in thanks. "Thank you. I have just one more question for you, if you're willing to answer it."

"I suppose I can answer one more, assuming it is something I'm able to answer." The revolver was on the desk at this point, the hammer having been lowered at some point Mark had been too focused to notice.

"The gun... was it really loaded?"

That simple question brought a small but genuine laugh from the man. "You're either perceptive or curious... No, I didn't load it with any ammunition. That doesn't diminish the danger you were in, but mundane firearms are loud and messy... much better to have control of things."

When he didn't elaborate further, Mark simply nodded, thanked him again, and rose from his seat to leave in as calm a manner as he could manage. It was mostly contained terror, save for a mild shaking of his hands as he left the room to return to his desk. No sooner had he settled into his chair and looked back at his work when Tara came walking up to him with purposeful steps and the look of a woman on a mission. When she made it to the desk, the noise of the office vanished, along with a small amount of it's color. Instead of the typical office din of typing, quiet talking, and the occasional phone call, Mark heard an actual piano of all things.

You have been pulled into the Reef Health and Services Ocean-side Offices - Portham Branch.

Mark still sat at a desk, even if it didn't seem to be his exactly. Tara sat on the convenient furniture and crossed one leg over the other. Her black leggings clung to the curves of calf and thigh in delightful ways and it took a great deal of mental effort for Mark to avoid staring. She looked down at him, a few glimpses of different emotions behind her eyes.

"So... not only are you a Fish, you have the balls to go to one of the strongest people in the area the day after we find out. I start to understand why they say bravery and foolishness are one and the same." She sighed, resting a hand on the desk. "I was told you had some questions. I might be able to help, depending on what you need, but information of all types is valuable. Basic information may be treated as a commodity but my mother would strangle me if she heard I gave something away for free."

Mark was still rather perplexed by the transition into the Grave Zone, as well as how well furnished it was inside, but managed to follow along and nodded when she finished. His voice was unsure as he said, "yea, sure, just... sorry, this place is throwing me off, how did-"

She cut him off to finish his thought. "How's did this place get to be this nice? This well furnished?" When he indicated she was on the right track, she nodded. "Promise me something and i'll tell you."

Mark hesitated to make a blind promise but between what he'd heard from Imara, as well as the overly cautious but not unhelpful nature of Mr Wrasse, he decided to at least hear her out. "What is it you want me to promise exactly?"

She looked at him for a quiet moment, the look on her eyes that of worry. "Take care of yourself. I can tell you haven't been on stable ground in a while. With the world you've awoken to, I can see you getting in over your head. Be careful and be safe, that's all i ask."

Mark slowly nodded as he tried to process her words. She's been a raging bitch to him ever since he started working here, a caring side wasn't something he'd have imagined her having, least of all one for him.

With that done, she continued on with her explanation. "Grave Zones are persistent once created. That's why you have to close them before leaving, unless you want monsters to find it. This place has protections against them that we maintain. They are neither cheap not easy to acquire but keeping out things people hunt deliberately due to the danger they pose is something you prioritize as a business. With the crypt lurkers not being able to enter, we were able to make this place look nice. It's a common practice among those with the power to do so. The Floatilla carry one of these devices on every fleet, along with the things needed to set up their markets."

Mark nodded along, the information soaking in but not really being processed for the moment. Between the new environment and Tara's apparent worry for him, he was s little stunned. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it but it mostly remained as he said, "sorry, all of this is a lot to take in right now. I was prepared for a lot of things but not you being nice to me."

To Mark's surprise, Tara smiled at that. It didn't seem quite happy, more like melancholy. "You'll understand eventually. If it helps, pretend mister Wrasse ordered me to help you."

"Right..." Mark put that notion aside for the time being, continuing. "You said you wanted to help... Anything you can tell me or point me at so I can learn about magic? The only things I really know is that mancers, kinetics, and potents are classifications for how power is used and that elements factor into things. I keep getting told things are dangerous so I want to be ready. If someone with magic tries to hurt me, it would be a good idea to have the fundamentals down to know what they might be capable of."

Tara gives an approving nod at the idea. "Well, you're half right, a lot of magic is elemental in nature. I'm not a full scholar on the subject but I know theory reasonably well. Let's start at the beginning. What does your Mana feel like when you channel it?"

"It... kinda depends. If I use my air magic, it feels like a cool November breeze but the first time I was able to touch it, it was hot and cold at the same time, like being burned while you freeze."

"You've touched raw Mana then, good. There are a few ways to conceptualize Mana but the way I first learned is to think of it as a ball. When the ball isn't moving, that's raw Mana. It can be used for non-elemental magic. If you want to induce an element into it, you need to make it spin. Each of the four classical elements is represented as basic magic types, though others also exist. Illusions, for instance, are considered a form of elemental magic, though an advanced one."

Mark looked at her with a wonder in his eyes, eager to learn more. "So, the four basic types. Water, Earth, Fire, and Air, right?" When she gave him another nod, he kept going. "So if each of them have their own spin, so to say, I guess faster spin means a stronger magical energy?"

A touch of pride touched Tara's eyes at that. "You picked up on that faster than I did when I was young. Yes, you can create more powerful magic by either pouring in more Mana or by strengthening that Mana's connection to the Sources. You'll need to ask someone else if you want to learn about those, all I know is that there is a Source for each of the four classical elements. Doing magic that way, however, is considered the hard way, what we call Sorcery. Actual spellcraft happens when you fall into a familiar rhythm with any given piece of Sorcery. You develop a muscle memory for it and it actually becomes less intensive on your Mana reserves. I've heard of people who have been casting the same spells for so long, the Mana cost is all but nonexistent for them."

"Sorcery and spellcraft, got it... Are the any other classifications for magic?"

"Several, actually, but three important ones. They have to do with how you obtain the magic. The most common are powers you learn through training. If you spend a few years developing the ability to make a huge ball of fire you can throw like a baseball, that's a Technique. Where things start to get strange is with Soul Affinities. These are powers you're born with. In rare cases, people can awaken to a Soul Affinity but that's very unlikely. These powers can be strange and unique, augment other abilities you are predisposed to, or can even be a summoning contract. Soul Affinities vary greatly. The last one to discuss would be the Contractors, those who make deals with people who have Soul Affinities to make use of them. You have to be rather strong in order to sign your Soul Affinity away, so most Contractors are akin to minions for their master."

"That last one sounds an awful lot like a warlock pact..." Mark mused as she paused for comment. "I assume the contract itself is some form of magic."

"Correct. Contract brokers are rare but they make a good deal of money for their services..." There was a hint of disdain in her voice at that.

"Brokers are bad, got it... I really just have one more question for now, you've hit on a lot of things I was curious about already..."

"And what is that?"

"What kind of magic do you wield? I've just got some air magic. Don't get me wrong, it's cool as hell but I feel outclassed at every turn."

A sly smile crept into her lips as her eyes seemed to be scanning words on an invisible page. When she stopped and focused on him again after just a few seconds, she answered his question simply. "I'm a Logistician. I can see the future."

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