"There will be no flaws in my work," he stated flatly. The very idea he would be so careless, especially considering the repercussions of giving a master a faulty product, insulted him. Still, he took care to reign his emotions, and nursed his slighted pride in silence.
Thomas nodded, "I am fully aware of how dependent the experiment is on my work today," he paused, hesitating -- he wanted to quip back, make a sarcastic remark; he wouldn't though. The pulser was all to aware of how lucky he was, of how greatly he would benefit from the shared experiment. And besides the obvious, Thomas wanted to be there. He'd come to Sahova to change things, to define new boundaries of animation and magic. What Rayage was doing, what he was helping to create -- this was what he craved out of life.
The corpse walker could keep his condescending tone. Thomas wouldn't react to it. He wanted a good relationship with the master, but what he needed more were end results.
----
9 Bells
Thomas finished the last of the circles, placing the tenth piece of blank paper in the middle. He had marked what copies would have a persona with a 'P' - easy to tell apart from the ones that didn't. He stepped backed, admiring his work. It was a standard coping set: The source, the obvious bigger circle, and a direct line pushing away. 5 circles were then arranged about six feet away from the original source. These all contained one piece of paper, and were organized in a half circle. They each had a line spilling from the center, connecting to the original line that had sprouted from the source circle.
Happy with his work, Thomas began to add the glyphs.
This was never quick work, unfortunately. He stalled, and questioned his own work, his need for perfection filling him with doubt. Daek-yak was simple, he'd been using the glyphs for use; even still, it would take him several chimes to paint them over the circles.
He curved a hard line over the edges of the source circle, the dog resting quietly in it's cage. It was a mutt, unlucky enough to be caught and sold to one of the ships heading to the CItadel. It was starved, and wouldn't last the next season, Thomas thought, sadly. He'd always liked animals.
He reinforced the line with another, lighter curve. It was softer in it's design, made with the smaller edge of the chalk. Together, Daek-yak had always reminded him of a quotation mark. He would repeat the mark around the circle, encasing it in a greater circle, with a squarish edge, giving it corners.
It's purpose was simple -- to contain the Djed throughout the animation, encouraging it in the same direction, making it flow easily and rapidly through the magic. He repeated it throughout all of the circles, insuring an easy flow.
He then traced a simple Daek ruin along the lines, a hard, thick line topped with an arrow that would shape the flow along the connection line.
Finally, he placed a copy glyph in the final circle. He drew down, hard, producing a thick chalky line that curved slightly at the bottom. He mimicked this line again, as perfectly as he could, producing a mirror imaged. He then connected the two with slimmer pieces of chalk, making light wavy lines.
...
10 Bells
He inspected his work again, and again, ensuring nothing had broken. The circles were in tack and connected, the glyphs were clear and concise -- he would allow Rayage to look over his work, if he was so inclined, otherwise, he would start.
He hardly thought about the blood sacrifice, anymore. He used to always question it, contemplate the need for something that seemed so ordinary. Thomas had supposed it once appeased some kind of deity, but now he believed it only established his connection -- and control -- with the wild djed that permeated the isle. It made sense; why else would his magic work so much better here, be so fluid, than when he learned it in Syliras?
Quickly, and without much thought, he nicked his finger, tiny beads falling against the cold marble of the lab. The circles responded almost immediately, the chalky white curves and lines blushing to a deep scarlet.
A sudden wind tore around him, silent to the world. His ears popped against the magical pressure, his body tensed; but he was calm. Thomas breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly. He was in control. This was something he knew, something he could control, something he understood.
This was his magic.
He swept his hands towards the caged dog, pushing the Djed against the connecting lines, walling up like a wave before collapsing around the source. He willfully pulled and tugged at the spinning magic, encouraging a gentle cycle. Thomas forced the Djed around the cage, whisping around and snatching bits and pieces from the laying dog. He was surprised how calm the animal was; not that he was complaining. A forced animation, one performed without a willing source, was never pleasant; for the animator or the source. There was also the slight problem of accientally transfering the residual emotions of the source -- as well as several others.
But this dog had to have been used as a source before -- it looked bored, even.
Thomas shrugged it off, gently teasing the energy towards the animal. It pushed and prodded on a spiritual level, bits and pieces memorizing the soul core that made up the animal's being, that would serve as a base for his animation.
He breathed in slowly, holding his breath in for a few ticks before exhaling. It was a simple meditation technique, something to allow him to focus more before pushing the life principle through the circles and towards the end circle.
Breathe.
Hold.
Release.
Breathe.
Hold.
Release.
Breathe.
Hold.
Release.
And then he tugged. As gently as he could, the dog was well behaved or just extremely used to this type of behavior, and he didn't want to upset it. Slowly, he dragged the magic though the dog, the energy collecting and memorizing everything that made a soul a soul. The very thing that made something alive.
He felt a brief release in the friction, a small ball of light pulsating throughout the stream of Djed -- only visible to him, and perhaps, those with auristics. He guided it towards the end circle, allowing it to hover simply above the copy glyph -- he wouldn't need it yet.
He stepped out of his circles, removing the ones that only needed the soul core. He set those off to the side.
...
11 Bells.
He allowed the stream of pure, sparkling magic to flow without disturbance; the persona would be the hardest to develop. Luckily, nothing so complicated as language would need to be incorporated in the animation. Rayage had only wanted something to be dog-like -- Thomas could, instead, take a hand full of dog like behaviors, and re enforced them with memories. If anything he could install a loyalty to him and the nuit, but he would decide on that later.
Now, to start to build a dog.
He knew dogs barked, so that would be important. He wasn't sure cats could bark, biologically, but maybe. So he drew from the source, focusing on it's memories of barking, of howling, of whining. There was a wealth of emotions to draw on, to label a sound to -- hopefully, instead, he could just switch the cat's emotional responses with a dog's.
Hopefully something he could fix with the directives.
He focused on sounds, and those were the memories he got.
He breathed again, focusing the memory, bringing it's aura out to view. It shifted, shaking in the violent curls of Djed; Thomas knew the only thing keeping it intact was his will, and using Auristics was perhaps unwise, but he needed to discern emotion -- he knew he was getting a sound memory -- but as to what noise, or what emotion it was tied to, only auristics could tell him; or even his gnosis he supposed.
The memory sounded, a low growl whispering in his ears. A loud whine followed, and a growl again. The memory's aura shook, it's coloring popping a bright purple with the line, falling to a deep violet, the aura tensing, small squares forming at it's edges. Defensiveness? No, fear. It had delivered a warning with the growly, but the sickly purples and hard edges gave the aura a negative feel, the small squares hinting at a warning -- it tried to defend itself and it's aura responded; but the total emotion was fear. So he had a fear response. He would unfortunately have to use his own memories to provide how to react to a fear response.
No worries, though. He supposed that was, in part, one of the reasons he'd always preferred to source his own animations instead of using others.
He dragged another memory related to sound, a slow, glowing one. Warm and soft and chocolate with tones of amber. A pleasant, peaceful memory -- the glowing tones of amber swaying softly in a sea of chocolate browns and sweet smells. It was silent, besides the soft sound of breathing. This, Thomas smiled, knowing he could switch it for a purr.
Again, he reached into the deep well of shinning light that danced around the dog; it was unfortunate that his magic wouldn't allow him to skim the dogs memories - his gnosis, would, and perhaps later, he could use it.
He tugged at the source, his will disturbing the calm flow; it spluttered uglily, the speeding stream breaking against the dog's aura, it's memories, forcing a piece lose and into the animation. It fluttered, quickly, up and down in the flow. Waves of heat pricked as his skin, his magic tingling; pinks and roses clashed prettily, bubbles forming and popping as the colors touched. Excitement, happiness. Short barks rang out, one fading quickly.
He paused -- the colors flickered, the world dimmed, his vision tunneling; he blinked. His power was growing, but still, he had to remember his limits.
But he could do one more.
With a thought, he drew out another sound. This one lazed in the vibrancy of the magic, dull, and dark. A low whine poured out, a deep blue sluggishly following after the sound.
Sadness.
