Overdue Explanations

Michel Vitaly Alexeev
Level 20 Fighter
<Practicus>
986/986 HP
RP: 0
Effects: Herculean Body, Hardened Hide, Blessing From A Trickster, Bulletproof (Armored)

"M-Michel?" John stuttered. He could see the pop-up blinking off to his side after using Observe, but it still didn't make any sense to him. How could it have made any sense to him? There was no way Michel could have been a part of the 'Abyss', John would have noticed. He had to have noticed. He had been spamming Observe on everyone and everything since he first got his powers, there's no way he could have missed him.

"You made the barrier?" When Moira spoke, her voice sounded almost accusatory, but she was still just as confused as the rest of them. Like Cassandra, after learning about his powers, Moira had started watching John too. She had seen the Gamer and his friend interact once already, but nothing had told her or implied to her that Michel might have been a part of the Abyss. The stunning silence that had infected almost all of them kept her mostly frozen too... but she adjusted faster than most people, faster than John did, even with his Gamer's Mind ability. "Why?" He didn't answer.

"Because he's with the Cabal," Robyn answered instead of Michel. She tested her fingers on the trigger of her hammer again, and beside her, Cassandra silently summoned the second of her two swords to her belt.

Herculean Body, Passive Effect.
Herculean Body: This ability marks a new level of Endurance within its user. While this passive is active, the user may direct some of the power gained from his or her supernatural fortitude into their own strength. The amount of power shared with the Strength stat is equal to 5% of the user's own Endurance, or more depending on the level of the ability.

"The… w-what?" John was still stumbling through his words, but no one answered him. They were all too focused on the matter at hand. Moira pulled out her hammer, drawing it from her shield like John did with the items in his inventory. Robyn began to move, strafing and walking around the far side of the new group like she could somehow surround them all on her own. Cassandra, on the other hand, merely moved her hand to the hilt of her larger sword. The two members of the Frozen Flame shared a glance with Cassandra's baleful red eye burning brightly even through the smoky sunlight, and after a long drawn out minute, Moira finally seemed comfortable enough to answer John's question.

"The Cabal," Moira practically growled as she spoke. Her long, crimson red hair swayed with the barrier's stale breeze, her stance tightened imperceptibly, but she never pulled her gaze away from Michel and the group he had brought with him. "It's a group of psychopathic slavers, murderers, and necromance-."

"It's easier if you surrender." Despite the growing hostile atmosphere and implications going around, it wasn't Michel who interrupted Moira. It was one of the companions he had brought with him who spoke up when Moira started explaining things to John. A pale, lanky stick of a man with long, straight but ratty, jet black hair stood at the far side of the group of fighters. His shirtless, pasty white torso was speckled with the images of a dozen fresh and bold, gothic tattoos. Each and every one of them was drawn in pitch black ink, devoid of any bright, prominent color that could have pulled attention away from the astonishing level of detail and shadow that had been put into applying them. The tattoos would have covered his body in all of that detail too... if not for the fact that each image had been precisely separated from the other tattoos by at least three to four inches of bare skin. He didn't wear any armor, not like Michel or the rest of his companions. The lower half of his form, which was still thankfully clothed, was covered by a pair of thick, black cargo pants. "If you try to fight, then you lose... painfully. You will be stuck with that pain, and you will never get to forget it again when you finally end up in a Mana tank. Surrender.

"Now."

Hardened Hide, Passive Effect.
Hardened Hide: This ability marks a new level of Endurance within its user. While this passive is active, the user's endurance works like a shield that has grown over his own body, hardening his skin and muscles into an added layer of protective armor when needed. This ability marks the start of just one path to a heightened state of being, even though this ability remains in its lowest and weakest form. Hardened Hide helps to protect the user from most types of non-magical damage. Both bludgeoning and slashing attacks, unless empowered arcanely in some way, deal half their total standard damage against the user while this ability is active.

Moira vanished.

One moment, she was standing next to John, cautiously stepping around him to try and put herself between him and Michel, and then the next, she was just gone... with one of the people that had come with Michel. The other person who disappeared was an old, weathered, silver-haired man in a long charcoal grey coat. One of Michel's lackeys simply pressed and activated another one of the many buttons, dials, and switches on the same small, grey, metal box that had been used to kick the Frozen Flame's soldiers out of the barrier, and then the warden and the other man both seemed to just drop out of existence. Despite how small the box was, it wasn't being carried around. It was left lying on the ground, like it was too heavy to pick up, while another man with long, jaw length, chestnut brown hair leaned over it and continued to fiddle with the box.

"It was just supposed to be you, John. Just for your mana. I'm not like that. I don't raise the dead, enslave or ki-" Michel started.

"Oh? What do you call **** people for their Mana then? Offering alternative employment?" Robyn snapped at Michel before he could finish talking. Her long, golden blonde hair shifted off from the front of her shoulder to hang straight down her back as she talked, and after a couple of silent, awkward seconds, she looked over at John. "If you aren't a murderer, then tell us... what exactly were you planning on doing with John's family once you had him? What about his mother?" Robyn said, and John watched as Michel stiffened slightly. The blond giant nearly suppressed the urge to scowl as he focused on John alone. He locked eyes with the young gamer, and even though he said it, the tone he gave him seemed almost regretful and guilty over his answer.

"They w-... She will be dealt with... mercifully," Michel said, and John's heart felt like it stopped. He stared at the large, blond giant standing in his suit of black Kevlar while his chest slowly began to tighten more and more until his blood felt like it had ran cold. He swallowed hard... as Michel reluctantly straightened and answered some of Robyn's various taunts, but most of what John needed to know had already been said. "It'll be quick...

"Unless... someone in your family also has Mana, then they'll have to join you," Michel said.

"Over my dead bod-" Cassandra said and drew her larger sword. The blade scraped noisily as she ripped it out of its sheath, grinding and squealing against the metal ringed rim of the scabbard's entrance. It hummed in the air when she held it up... and then clattered uselessly on the ground when she, too, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Blessing From A Trickster, Passive Effect.
Blessing From A Trickster: This unit has gained the favor of a being so powerful and legendary that it has often been referred to as a Trickster or a god. Like most god given blessings, this one was given in the form of an artifact, a personal bauble or a piece of equipment, that was designed to try and show it's recipient the level of compassion felt for them. ?????...
+??????

Cassandra also wasn't the only one to disappear. Just like with Moira, when someone fiddled with the metal, grey box lying on the ground, one of Michel's allies vanished with the artificer. At first, John barely even noticed that someone other than Cassandra had disappeared. He was already too distracted to really pay attention to anything other than the fact that the stranger had black hair and that a spot besides Michel was suddenly vacated and left empty. It was no longer just the form of some blank presence anymore.

"You son of a bitch!" Robyn snapped and drew the gun strapped to her thigh. She shifted, as if to charge Michel with her hammer flaring brightly at the ready, and then immediately froze again. Her stance changed slightly as her eyes darted over to where the shirtless brunet man stood and watched as he took a step towards John. He stopped her and put her in a position where she couldn't attack. If she did, John would have been attacked too.

It was like being surrounded by a pack of wolves.

"If you think I'm going to let you-" Robyn said, and then John interrupted her. His moment of silence and confusion was broken as John pushed past the blonde woman, regardless of the danger, to address Michel himself. He shoved Robyn aside carelessly and watched as the group of people that Michel had brought with him bristled cautiously at his boldness.

"Why?" John asked, his teeth gritting and grinding together. "Why are you doing this? Why don't you just use your own damn mana?"

Both Robyn and the pale, lanky man with black hair disappeared too.

Barrier Locator And Displacement Device
This heavy piece of equipment was made, under duress, to try and emulate some of the many barrier powers that Fateweavers use. This machine has no visible user interface, a part of an intentional, **** design put in to try and guarantee the continued need of its creator. To try and save his own life, the maker of this box tried to make it so that he was the only one left who could use it. While in the hands of an experienced and knowledgeable user, this box can be used to move, procure, or extract people from, in and out of a barrier.
+100% Additional Time Dilation

"Most peopl- No, most Qabalists just use mana for their... experiments." Michel didn't seem like he was going to answer him at first. His hands just clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tightened and hardened for a moment, and he started walking towards John, his massive form seemingly looming higher and higher over the young gamer with each step. He stepped into an aggressive, familiar stance... before he suddenly stopped. His blank expression softened as he stood silently in the middle of the street, holding his fighting stance as he visibly tried to sort and think his actions through. His strong, prominent brow furrowed as John glared at him, but eventually, he sighed and nodded, acquiescing one more time for John. "They use it for things like transforming people, creating things, or... just hunting for immortality. My master needs it for his own goals... his own work."

"You're tricking... and betraying a friend... to give some random bastard immortality?!" A small part of John felt like it broke inside his chest. Even breathing felt like it could hurt, and that same ache caused his knees to start to sag as he tried to face his new possible kidnapper. He could feel the weight of what Michel was saying threatening to push him to the ground, but he **** himself to stay up. He **** himself to keep looking at Michel, even when his eyes started to fill with tears, and even if it meant that he had to use Gamer's Mind to do it.

"It's not just immortality with him! It's the families of the Abyss that this mana goes to. The kingdoms! Whole islands and worlds are made to stay afloat just by putting a few people into factories! He helps-" Michel didn't even hesitate to try and shield himself and his master. He just jumped to his defense.

"Did you lie to me about coming out here to meet your boyfriend?" John practically hissed when he interjected partway through Michel's rant. The blond man froze and stared hard at John while Michel's last ally continued to fiddle and mess with the Fateweaver box behind him. A large, black, metal rifle swayed from a single strap looped around the other man's back, but he didn't even look up as the two of them talked. The stranger somehow remained dutiful and focused to his job.

"No," Michel growled back, his brown, gentle eyes hardening as he glared back at John. "I told you the truth... and I really would have loved for you to have met him. I liked you, John. I hoped to god you were just as innocent as you had looked before I finally sensed your mana." The Russian giant slowly began to lift his hands up in front of him. His fingers popped and tightened as he squeezed his two fists together and slowly held them up cautiously between them. "If I could have, I would have waited until after the Marathon to take you. At the very least... I would have given you more time with Grace. You were good for her, and after Chad put her little brother in the hospital the other day, I think she would have actually forgiven you and opened up..." Michel said.

John almost froze. His mind was already struggling to keep up with the situation he had been thrown into, and the last sentence merely sent the final blow to put John spiraling out of control. He would have lost himself long enough to accidentally surrender or lose to Michel if not for the fact that Gamer's Mind took effect right after Michel told him that. His heartbeat calmed, he exhaled the single aching breath he had been holding in, and John realized Michel was already closer than he thought he was. The distance that was supposed to have stayed between them was almost gone.

"...but it's not up to me. It's his decision, and he believes in the right to fight back," Michel finished his sentence with a small sigh, a **** that faded as he moved to the edge of the range John had with his fists and stopped.

"Only the weak get taken. The weak wouldn't last in this world anyways," Michel said... and punched John right in the center of his chest.