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First Impressionisms (IC)


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Etain glanced at Morgan curiously and than at Rene her eyebrows raising at the magic taking place. It was an odd thing, taking a few steps from her position to get a better look she looked over three beings pulling themselves out from the portrait themselves. They resembled fae to her almost, they were being of magic after all, except, they were different, there flow, it was like paint, like the painting they were coming out of, they almost dripped magic in her eyes, and even with the resemblance to the three it beared, it was a bit sickening as she likened there position to take of wax figures melting in the sun.

"This is not good."

She stepped forward pulling her umbrella out of her purse as she did, though it seemed a rather strange thing to do, she kept the flowery thing in her hand as she moved closer to Rene,

"Rene, your magic, something has gone wrong."

The girl looked up almost instantly at Etain, she resembled her in form and she met the girl with a smile,

"Inviso leviculus parum letalis should ego lascivio per lemma hodie?"

She moved past Etain almost quickly and made her way to John's side breaking the personal space area around him very quickly in her movements,

"Vos would planto a nice toy , dico mihi , operor vos reputo ego sum pulchellus?"

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Crow fairly fell off of the bench as what appeared to be him stood beside the easel, looking left and right while cracking his knuckles.

"Céilí mór, cad a dumpáil."

"Damn, what a dump."

The other Crow looked about, then caught the eye of his counterpart and took a somewhat belligerent stance, looking Morgan right in the eye. The two stared, beginning to circle one another. Then the painted Crow's head turned to stare at Changeling, and a twinkle erupted in his eye as he disappeared and reappeared beside her, speaking in a very clear Irish brogue.

"Well now, always nice to meet a lovely young lady. And one who's been touched by the fae, no less. Morgan Crowe, at your service."

Even under all the black, it was hard not to see the real Morgan turning beet-red.

"Uh...Rene...what the hell is going on? And why is there a Leisure Suit Larry version of me hitting on Etain?"

At that comment, the other Crow whirled and clenched a fist, his 'suave' exterior replaced with an extremely belligerent attitude.

"What. Did you just say?"

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Etain examined the construct as it moved towards John,

""

She was about to walk towards it when she was intercepted by the copy of Morgan who suddenly appeared rather interested in her. The smile she had held throughout dropped at his antics and his eyes narrowed as he turned to threaten the real article. Almost as fast as he turned she too unclicked and unsheathed a thin silver blade from the holster of the umbrella and held it not an inch from the dulplicate's neck,

"You will do well to hold your tongue and your temper."

Her voice held a firm tone not previously heard by any of the person's present.

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Most people would have reacted to the last few events with slack jawed amazement. John just blinked a lot while maintaining the pose, up until the point where the painting!Etain was talking to him.

"Vos would planto a nice toy , dico mihi , operor vos reputo ego sum pulchellus?"

His eyes snapped to the fake, trying to answer her "I..wha..." he looked to Miss Etain. "Translation, please?" But she was already talking to it in what he could only assume was some sort of latin dialect.

His confusion and bafflement was further compounded by the appearance of a duplicate Morgan. Painting!Morgan was behaving decidedly more lecherous John noted, though it brought him some amusement as the real Morgan was turning a fascinating shade that he had not seen before.

Wait. If those two... he finally broke his pose, staring at the painting. It confirmed his misgivings as a pair of gloved hands pulled themselves up and out of the picture, before standing and straightening the uniform. The uniform was similar to John's but as he crawled out of the painting, it had smeared with other colors and became a closer to the original form....SHADOW armor.

Painting!Myr looked around until his eyes zeroed in on John, and the face cracked open into a wickedly evil smirk. "Well, Well. What do we have here? A faulty spare. Looks like I'll have to clean this up." John stepped away from the painting!Etain and stared down his duplicate. "Fool. You are nothing but a painting." He called a sword into his hand, as painting!Myrs' manic grin grew even more. "Oh?" the duplicate replied as he created an identical sword.

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"Zut alors" exclaimed Rene, nearly dropping his brush in amazement. "Pardon, pardon! I have never seen this before! Ze pictures, come alive!"

Its not possible! he thought, briefly.

Its magic. Anything is possible he corrected himself after a moment.

Rene brought himself back to the moment, and looked once again at his Easel. The doppelgangers didn't belong in the real world. They belonged back in his picture. He took his magic paintbrush to the canvas, whispering "Back to where you belong!" as he furiously painted.

What was this? there was no effect at all!

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The two Myrmidons stared down each other, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Rene furiously whispering and trying to fix the situation was apparently it, as both of them focused on him for a split second. They both reacted to the distraction each unleashing a perfectly synchronized strike. Myrmidon aimed low, his sword arcing upward toward his doppelgangers chest. Painting!Myrmidon lunged forward, a straight thrust aimed at the real Myrmidons' heart. The simultaneous strikes connected, leaving the two Myrmidons with swords sticking out their backs, and oddly, uninjured.

Painting!Myrmidon looked downward, Myrs' sword buried to the hilt under ribcage angling upward into his chest cavity and then to his own sword, straight through Myrmidons' throat. Clearly both were intended to be lethal strikes. However, at each swords point of entry and exit, a yellow crackling appeared. "Hmm. Looks like we will have to do this the old-fashioned way...BRUTALLY!" The doppelganger said with manic glee. All Myrmidons' response to this was a morose "Indeed," before snapping his head forward in a savage headbutt.

With a meaty TWHACK! the Painting!Myrmidon is sent reeling.

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The two Crow's watched the two Myrmidons leap to the offensive, one rather askance, one with a gleam in his eye. The painted Crow completely disregarded the blade held at his neck, instead turning those same gleaming eyes on his counterpart and leaping towards him, bringing a fist up and forward with a wild laugh.

"Alright, party time!"

Fortunately, the real Crow's reflexes were up to the challenge, and he easily caught his counterpart's fist with one hand.

"Oi, what the hell?!" "C'mon, bring it! I love a good fight!"

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"Enough,"

Thick vines pierced the ground around them ensnaring all the combatants. The paint dooplegangers got caught, as well as the real articles but Etain just gave a side glance that released the hold of the vines. The paint Etain seemed less than effected which was troublesome in it's own right, though not so much as she seemed the least violent party. Instead she glanced at the dopplegangers,

"I know I was hasty in my shock, but must this truly be a violent encounter?"

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Rene backed off slowly. The situation was getting out of hand quickly. At least Etain had a level head on her shoulders.

Talking, or indeed fighting was all very well. Unfortunately, the bigger question on Rene's mind was: And then what?

The painting doppelgangers, he supposed, would not be too keen to return to the painting. And neither, he suspected, would they integrate too well in the real world. What he needed to do was get them back on the canvas, were they belonged.

Unfortunately he had no answers. However, he just so happened to be in the Parkhurst hotel, a newly created centre for the finest mages in the world. With books - lots of lovely books. If the answer could not be found there, it couldn't be found anywhere...

"Good form!" he yelled with encouragement, as he scuttle off to the Hotels library...

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Painting!Myrmidon struggled vainly in the vines, still suffering the effects of his real counterparts' last attack. He focused his gaze on Etain, his eyes still a bit unfocused.

"I know I was hasty in my shock, but must this truly be a violent encounter?"

The fake Myrmidon started chuckling darkly. "Hahaha! She asks if its going to be violent when he's around!" He nodded in the General direction of his real counterpart. "Are you daft woman? Have you any clue as to wha...URK." the sentence cut off, the real Myrmidon holding him by the throat.

"You will not disparage Miss Etain again." John intoned, as he opened his grip lightly, letting the replica taste air again. His doppelganger choked out between ragged breaths "Why are you even dealing with these...civilians? They're just going to wind up as collateral damage, just like everything else you get involved with."

"Not if I can help it." John looked over to Changeling. "Miss Etain, my duplicate will not comply to such demands. It would be best if he was rendered a non-issue."

"That's rich coming from you, hypocrite." The fake Myrmidon taunted. John narrowed his eyes in disgust, "Go back to where you belong or I will end this. Permanently."

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The two Crows, on the other hand, exchanged a rather lengthy torrent of Gaelic curses at each other, interspersed with the odd English term such as "kick the..." "shove you upside down in..." "...you and what army..." "...with a fondue fork!"

Taking a moment for a breather, one Crow looked at the other restrained one, locked in a staring contest. The painted one struggled in the vines, then spoke in quite clear English. And very angry English.

"Oooh...ok, everything's going to go boom when I get outta here! You and her! And him! And her too! And him! And the old fart! Big brawl! Get me out of these vines!"

The genuine article turned with an extremely red face towards the others, trying to ignore his loudmouthed counterpart.

"First, I pre-emptively apologize anything coming out of his mouth (you suck!). Second, could someone figure out a way to get them back on the canvas before I do something both offensive and anatomically impossible to this guy?"

"Your mother!"

"Shut up!"

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Paint!Etain watched the scene for a few seconds, while the other boys looked nice they were very brutish and rude and honestly not much her taste. The other her seemed a bit flustered with the situation, which was while interesting becoming quite boring a sight. Yawning quietly, she glanced towards the house remembering that she didn't really have to stay here,

""

The doppleganger turned away from them and headed towards the house, but before doing so she stopped and turned,

""

She did nothing more than wave before the vines shrivelled into nothing freeing it's captors. Smiling she headed inside and walked over to the pool happily undoing her vest as she went.

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Rene squinted, running his finger across the books in Parkhurst library.

Damn my eyes! he cursed, bringing out his reading spectacles so he could see the titles properly.

Thaumatulogical effects of mirrors...Necromantic Rituals of Ry'leh...Atlantean hydraulic enchantments...

"Non non non!" he cursed. "Where is it? I am sure I saw something on it!"

His finger stabbed on a particularly dusty and rugged tome. "Aha! Merci, madame fotune! Comparison of mystical effects associated with representative art" A rather dry title, to match the bone dry fragile pages. And written in ancient Greek too - fortunately a language Rene was quite fluent in.

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Seeing the vines wither away, John decided to finish this before his doppelganger could do some real damage. He attempted a quick liver blow, only for his punch drunk counterpart to move aside at the last second, the hit glancing off the body armor. "Nice try, but no." The woozy duplicate responded with a smirk.

Readying himself for a retaliatory strike, John blinked in momentary confusion as his duplicate disengaged, and broke away only to disappear into the house. Great... John darkly thought, his duplicate was aiming to turn this into guerrilla warfare by ambushing whoever chased after him. However, that left the three of them out here vs. Morgan's duplicate. John turned to face Painting!Crow and summoned a pair of armored gauntlets and matching greaves.

"Do not chase my duplicate as that is his intention. We have numerical superiority here, at the moment."

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Etain frowned deeply at the withering vines and the escaped dopplegangers, but she nearly smiled as she saw the copy of John head into the house,

"Millie,"

The ghost seemed prompt in being called, and Joe was with her as well,

"There is an intruder in Parkhurst, a shade who has taken his form?"

She pointed at the real John,

"Please, given him the full extent of your well practiced hospitelity that you have utilized before Mr. Cimitere came to this house, and do not mind the house itself, there has been proper spells put in place, so you need not worry about having to do another reconstruction."

The ghosts nodded and disappeared into nothing before Etain looked over at the doppleganger,

"Now, what to do with you. I have to say, you have been rather vile, and it seems that you will not be reasoned with. However, I do not wish to stain my sword with such a lowly creature. Also, I have a friend who has been quite bored recently. I am sure you may be an excellant playmate for him."

She put a cup around her hand,

"Custos."

It was a few second by the sound of flapping wings became audiable, and than a figure appeared in the distance, and it only got larger and larger until a winged creature of pure grey carved in a manner as to scare even the most horrible demons set itself over the estate and at Etain's side. The size comparison was clear as the creature was nearly twice as tall as Etain, and several times wider including his wingspan. It's voice was deep and grizzly as it spoke,

"It has been a while since you have ask for help."

Etain smiled at the creature and said,

"I simply thought you may be bored,"

She pointed at the painting dopplecate,

"He is a magic being summoned by accident who has been quite malicious, it is your area."

The gargoyle grinned and rammed head first into the indicated target even with his closeness he was careful not the hit the real Morgan.

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Both Crow and the painted Crow's replies was muffled, as one struggled to get out of his counterpart's headlock, and the other shoved his fist in the other's mouth. Neither sounded very flattering, however.

"This is for callin' me Leisure Suit Larry, ya jerk!"

To the onlooker's amusement, the fake Crow began to noogie the real deal, laughing like a madman as he did so. Grunting, Crow booted him in the back of the leg, and the two hit the ground rolling with a flurry of curses both many and varied. Crow, his nose bleeding from a particularly accurate punch, spat in his counterpart's face as he heard Etain speaking, and gave his fake a good shove upwards right as the gargoyle came swooping in. The painted Crow reeled like he'd been poleaxed, stumbling backwards from the blow.

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Rene put the Book down, and placed his reading glasses on top of his nose. Squinting, he flipped over the pages with haste, until he stabbed his finger at the relevant chapter.

"Eureka!" he said, getting into the spirit of Greek text and language.

His finger traced along the text word by word. His lips moved as he read the text "Oui, oui, I understand..."

He should of course have taken some precautions and not used his enchanted paintbrush, but it was too late now. However, it could be reversed.

He scuttled out of the library, holding the book, and raced towards the grounds, cursing his hips and legs as he did so.

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John knew how dangerous Morgan could be if left alone, and well, he was already reeling from the being that Miss Etain had conjured. The only fair fight is the one you lose, he mused as he prepared to take advantage of the opening in the duplicates' defenses.

He shifted his feet slightly, interposing himself in the direction of Painting!Crow's reeling backpedal. John continued the motion, crouching downward and then rocketing upwards using his momentum to aim a massive uppercut directed at the doppelgangers' jawline. His aim was true, and the gauntleted fist connected soundly...

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...sending the painted Crow into yet another spiral, crashing the doppelganger to the ground with spiraling eyes as the genuine article looked on approvingly.

"Damn, wish we'd had you at a few tournaments back home. You'd have cleaned house, mate."

Morgan looked up at the house, then back at Myrmidon, shrugging. A wide grin could be seen under the bandanna, and the runecaster chuckled.

"I wouldn't worry very much about your counterpart, he's about to find out what happens when you enter a mage's sanctum uninvited."

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"I am surprised he has not been thrown out yet."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a watch on her chain,

"They may be pulling out the torture, they are well trained in death and destruction, several decades with a nihil will do that after all."

Looking towards the house she saw an old figure hobbling there way looking rather sastified with himself.

"I do think that Mr. De Saens has an answer if that one does not work."

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Rene dashed into the frenzy, barely noticing the madness around him. AT this point, of course, he would somewhat struggle to know who was a painting and who was the original copy, so to speak.

"Fire!" he exclaimed. "Burn ze painting, and they all go with it!"

From his hand erupted a magnificent purple-red stream of mystic fire directed straight at the Canvas.

There was a puff of smoke, and a small but lively pyrotechnic show. As pretty as it was, it was totally ineffective, the Canvas was absolutely and resolutely unharmed.

"Errr..." mumbled Rene. "Of course, it is a magical canvas, and magical fire will not do!" he conceded.

"Anyone got a light?" he added, hopefully...

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"Errr..." mumbled Rene. "Of course, it is a magical canvas, and magical fire will not do!" he conceded.

"Anyone got a light?" he added, hopefully...

John turned at the words, eager to end this madness. "I can be of assistance." The gauntlet and greaves he had just used to send Painting!Crow reeling were replaced by an object that looked very similar to a toy water gun that only betrayed it's true nature by the pilot light burning by the nozzle.

"Please move aside, Mr. De Saens." Myr intoned before playing the handheld flamers' napalm fueled flames over the painting.

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GM

The canvas was no match for the powerful flame thrower. It went up in an instant, belching smoke and ash, and in a few seconds it was mere charred remains amidst the fire.

The three simulacrum didn't fare much better. As quickly as the canvas, they fell apart, in smoke and ash, without so much as uttering a word. If anything, there expressions seemed to be one of bemusement as opposed to anything else.

The smoke continued to waft from the ignited canvas and easel, and the gentle winds dispersed the ashes to the skies.

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Rene breathed a sigh or relief. The whole affair was, of course, mortifying.

"Is everyone allright?" he muttered, still cross with himself.

He brought out the book he had found in Parkhurst library. "I found this book. Apparently this kind of thing 'as happened before, so I claim no credit..."

He shifted his eyes this way and that. Let them think it was him being extraordinary rather than making one of the worst arcane blunders of his life (and it had been a long one).

"...*ahem* well, ze presence of powerful psychic forces in ze affinity, in combination with ze brush" and he waved his magic paintbrush to emphasise "can lead to..."

He squinted, readjusted his spectacles and traced a line in the book with his finger.

"...and I translate, of course...ze transient manifestation of subjects psyche, given ze flesh..."

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"So, a manifestation of subconcious desires and impulses brought to light but not constrained by learned habits of restraint or concience. That fits the title of a shade, or a darker self. It is not that surprising, magic is very driven by desires and personality, all personality, not just that which we filter through our teachings."

Etain smiled at John and Morgan,

"I think it is a rather flattering portrait towards the two of you as you both overcome the subconcious to be the very noble and hospitable boys I see before me. Mine, well, I guess my baser desires are just testiment to the culture and life I led before entering this realm."

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