Awake again. Giddy with excitement. I take in my domain in one instantaneous moment. The only thing different from my last time present in the world being the darkness in the room. Fading light splashing orange onto the white landscape of the bathroom. This light is softer than the overhead ones, it lights up the room as if more quietly. I do not dwell on the beauty of the setting light coming in from the distant edge of my vision- I do not particularly care. Instead I focus on the woman in front of me, and hope the dim light won’t make it harder for her to focus on me in turn.
She washes her hands deliberately, scrubbing them around each other again and again, attention shifting from hands to mirror and back again. The thundering start up again. I wait patiently in the turbulent feeling as she finishes and drys her hand with the towel hanging on a ring, low, next to the counter. She grabs the toothbrush and yet more cleaning begins, this time with her eyes riveted on me. She scores away the left over evidence of her meals, rubbing whiteness into whiteness for some complex purpose I don’t fully understand. For me all this effort seems the same, effort to look different, more polished I thought; In part I could understand the actions through a mirrors own need to reflect as best as possible. I tried not to dive into it too much and simply trust my instincts on those implications.
She finishes up but before she can move further I cast ensnare, focused on a tooth at the far end barley visible. She squints at herself and tries her best to get a good look at the suspect tooth suddenly brought to her attention. She sighs and resigns herself to scrubbing some more. Her time in front of the mirror is prolonged by maybe 10 seconds-maybe 15, but it’s almost enough. She checks her tooth once more before leaving as if to test if she was successful. As the swell diminishes I can tell it leaves behind more power than before. Almost power enough for the next step.
Next time I wake it’s bright again. The white room bright and loud although the lights above are silent. In what I’m starting to recognise as a pattern the woman comes in and cleans before moving on to layering herself up with the substances before me. As she is altering bit by bit I notice there is a place where the colour of her cheeks clash with those surrounding them, I cast ensnare quickly and watch her eyes begin travel toward the spot. However before they move more than a few millimetres the woman gives a minute shake and focuses back on what she was doing originally. Surprise is evident as she throws off the suggestion of my spell, surprise at how ineffective such magic could be, surprise that quickly twists.
She threw me off just like that, didn’t bother to humor me, to acknowledge what was to me the only way to affect the outside reality. All the power I had useless against the slightest willful whim of her. Outrage rose alongside the usual exhilarating rush and beyond it, briefly replacing the thundering with a repeating angry crash. The rage rocked me, my view of the world seeming to actually shake. I cast ensnare again, this time with the full power of my will behind it, bolstered by the strong feelings inside me. This time the woman looked, and frowned. She set about fixing the problem and yet, I still felt the rage alive inside me.
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Level 3 Ensnare lvl 3 Spell is more responsive to will
The rush of power crescendoed and the exhilaration was strong, what I knew to be a beautiful moment of excitement and joy, except it wasn’t pure like before. The rage was still there, present. Together the rush and outrage combined, the exhilaration and anger combining into something that felt almost like power.
I savoured the moment as it came. When it was over the new feeling washed some of the pressing rage away. Anger had receded a little, turned sour-lingering. I waited, baited to strike. Motivated by a darker emotion than I’d ever felt before. I searched her face with purpose, looking for imperfections, the parts that stood out. There, above the left side of her lip, there was a dark spot I hadn’t noticed before. It was uncovered despite the woman’s work and i wondered why she had allowed such a glaring difference to stand out, surely she should of smoothed other the outstanding detail, covered her face in smooth placid layers in order to be able to fin about her day. But no, she left it exposed, open. The malice possessing me would not allow such a thing to go unchecked.
The woman was packing away again, re organising and packaging all she had just scattered and opened. I wondered if it might be better to point out the subtle ways she would leave my space different from before, to point out the little errors in organisation. Yet, the nagging sensation remained inside me, urging me I had already chosen the best corse of action; Telling me to wait for the perfect moment to enact my spell.
she smiled at me, eyes bright and countenance the same. She seemed so prepared-confident. There was a moment where I almost forgot to ensnare her, a moment where I simply stared back and reflected. But I then I cast it, and her eyes were drawn toward the mark-the very same one she had left uncovered and untouched-and her countenance flickered. Her mouth drooped down, her eyes tightened. She’d caught sight of her imperfection. She looked away, and her mouth sprung back into a smile. Except it was she shallower this time, her eyes didn’t shine as before. It was a hallow smile this time, and we both knew it. The moment had passed, finished and fleeting. Her eyes flickered to the spot again- and again as she stepped back from the mirror. But that was the last time. She collected herself.
The unsteadiness was chased away by the resolve that settled over her, resolve to go out into the world outside the privacy of the bathroom, outside the view of the mirror. But it was a grim resolve, one filled by duty and must do's-it was not a resolve bolstered by joy.
That fed me. This strange new feeling grew fast, gorged. Power followed. I was awed by how easy it was, how in that moment the spell wasn’t resisted at all. As the new feeling grew I thought back on the moment before I’d acted. I remembered it strongly, knew I wouldn’t forget, and yet I couldn’t find it in myself to think anything more of it. Again the rush crescendoed as before.
Level 4
The level came, bringing with it: a sense of completeness and deepened power and the need to rest and grow. My spite was satisfied and this time I enjoyed it.