PM to join [The Foundation] Past the Brink (Miro)

[Lucillus Nitrozian]

Lucillus Nitrozian

82nd of Summer, 514 AV

He could feel himself breaking apart. The cracks were hidden under the skin, but they certainly weren't buried... all it took was a simple touch of the finger to realize that they were present, and growing by the day. They flared up during the days and kept him up at nights, making him toss and turn restlessly in his bed, making his entire body shake and quiver when the evening wind stirred through his room. The cracks ran the entire length of him, down from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, from the way he laughed to the way he looked when idle. The cracks let blood pour out from his veins and spill onto the streets of Ravok, pure blood that showed only his uncontrolled feelings. Luc knew that he was doing a pisspoor job of keeping himself held together - his meetings with clients usually ended with some kind of explosion, he had thus far threatened to kill multiple members of the Nitrozian household, and he knew that one day those threats would take on a frightening new reality of their own. Every day, Luc held his head in his hands and realized just how fragile it truly was.

He would have preferred his situation if there was only one large problem that he had to deal with, rather than a thousand small ones in addition to a large, imposing menace. Luc was bothered by the fact that he was still working for the Nitrozians, by the fact that he didn't have an office to himself, by the fact that he kept getting trivial problems instead of the real meaty concerns, by the fact that the drugs that once introduced him to wonders barely made an impression upon him, by the fact that his dealers were starting to grow leery of him and raised their prices steeply, by the fact that his hair was growing wild and his eyes were constantly bloodshot and his bags grew darker by the day. Add to all of that the knowledge that there was somebody in Ravok that was trying, very persistently, to kill him, and Luc knew that it was only a matter of time before he ended up dead, locked up, or worse. What was really driving him nuts, however, was that his enemies had thus far failed to reveal themselves. They kept in the shadows and hadn't left any sort of calling card when their assassins - and Daegron - had come to his doorstep.

This left a whole city of possible killers that he had to deal with. Thinking about who in Ravok might want him dead, Luc knew that he already had a gigantic target staked to his back, in the form of the name "Nitrozian". Those that would want to send a message to the merchant house, might see him as an easy target that would accomplish the job... but even then, the attacks thus far on his person were a bit too risky for such an intense, high-stakes game. If one wanted to go after the Nitrozians, they certainly didn't do something so brazen as repeatedly try to kill the family lawyer. It had to be a personal enemy, then, but Luc had plenty of those to spare. How many pissed off dealers would love to take a shot at me and wipe me off the map? How many men have I embittered from failing to pay back my loans? Hell, maybe Sitanos himself is taking a shot at me, trying to stop me from becoming a family embarrassment The paranoia that Luc had to embrace to survive was slowly ruining him from the inside, he knew this intimately. What he needed was a means to defend himself, to fight back against the people that were trying to erase him from Ravok's memory.

And, sadly, he was crippled on that front. Perhaps it was the fact that his mother was a mouse, or that his blood naturally tended towards weakness, but he knew that he would never grow strong enough to fight back against his oppressors with martial weapons. Manipulation and intrigue were his preferred tools, but right now everyone in the city that he trusted was shunning him, pushed away by how quickly and totally he was spinning out of control. He was prepared to deal with rowdy clients and annoyed Nitrozian workers; dealing with a conspiracy to end his life was entirely new and foreign to him. None of my contacts are in a good place to observe this kind of skulduggery, he thought to himself, and too cowardly to step in the line of fire to help me. The one gift that he had to his name was the magic of Hypnotism, and this tool would indeed be useful against the people trying to murder him, but his constant use of the magic was beginning to wear down his sanity. Luc was convinced that he was... breaking down, his eyes and tongue no longer functioning as they used to, and he started to disbelieve and second-guess himself constantly, unable to tell truth from lies. If he was going to use Hypnotism to defend himself, he needed a teacher or education of some kind to give him greater understanding of the magic. He was cut off from using the Institute of Higher Learning, however, thanks to his high-profile name - if he was seen at the Institute, word would spread that he was a magician of some kind, and then the secret of his Hypnotism would be revealed to the public.

So the Institute was out... but that didn't mean Luc was cut off from education. For, as he recently discovered, there were other magical tutors in the city that could be a great deal more discrete than the Stryfe.

This need for Hypnotist education was what brought Lucillus Nitrozian, garbed in simple, unassuming clothes, to the Foundation of the Elemental Mind, an unheard-of establishment that nevertheless had gained quite a reputation in certain circles. One of his dealers mentioned a client of hers that engaged in some Hypnotheraphy at the Foundation - the results were apparently miraculous, as the dealer fervently attested to. Luc, intrigued by this knowledge, began to track down more rumors concerning the Foundation and eventually arrived at its doorstep, stepping inside and setting up an appointment to meet the mysterious and dreaded "Miro". That had been the easy part. Waiting was infinitely harder. Earlier in the morning, he had head to the business and been instructed by the dull secretary to wait in the lobby. Then, from out of nowhere, he was told to wait instead in Miro's office. Chimes became bells in Luc's mind, and he was starting to worry himself concerning the demeanor of this strange, often masked mage. Do you think that just because you can charm a few people, he told himself, that you are ready to be properly immersed into the world of sorcery? You're small time compared to this guy. He's going to... Struggling to control his nerves, Luc shifted atop his seat, closed his eyes, and tried to sneak in a nap as he waited for the wizard to arrive.

[Miro]

Arienette informed Miro of his appointment, an interview he had to make, but he was not ready for such a task. But this man, he seemed to know something, which was not quite normal. The wizard was informed that he seemed uneasy and did not appear to as puzzled as most who wandered into the shop. It was as if he knew the purpose of the establishment. A merit in its own, he supposed. But nonetheless, he was not eager to meet with this man, and so he wouldn't.

No, in his stead would go Ender, the master's Familiar. Those who knew Miro mostly knew him by his mask, though this was the charm of using the Irylid instead. He did not like to repllicate the Mask of Many, and this often made interaction with people much more simple. Especially since the Fyrdenese was a bit more gentle than the undead. For now the Chained One would remain in the storage room.

The Familiar assumed his replicant form, a technique which was quite effortless by now. His silvery form shifted to spill outward like a liquid. The spherical shape he held grew limbs, then fine details. Finally the silver shifted to more appropriate colors. Ender became a replica of Miro, only in different attire. He wore a long black cloak that covered his feet and cloaked his hands. Long straight locks of black hair hung to the sides of his emotionless face.

Yes, Miro was much more handsome under his mask than most knew, only ever revealed by the Irylid assuming his guise. But Ender was entirely different from his master. He knew his task, but questioned his partner telepathically. "Shall I just Hypnotize them into spending money? It quite seems the easiest way." The wizard could sense the amusement the Familiar felt. "By the time I am done with them, they won't even know why their money is gone or that they ever came in here."

It was the typical method of operation, but there was a curiosity that sparked the Hypnotist's attention. He responded to his partner with a dismissive wave. "No, let us see what this man knows. I always try my best to keep rumor of my services from spreading. The lab, of course there is little I can do. But to teach, I take care in spreading word of such things. And of course my Hypnotherapy, I always include manipulations for them to preserve secrecy. How well they seem to respond to self-consciousness, worry of being thought crazy."

Ender finally showed a bit of emotion and smirked at the remark. In honesty he was interested too. If necessary magic could always be used, but there was a mutual understanding of an intense strategy. The element of fear was by far Miro's favorite method of manipulation. However Ender preferred to work to a person's better nature, to win their trust and play on positive emotions. This especially came into play when Miro entered the room after the client had already become introduced to Ender.

For now the Familiar simple made his way through the shop and into the smaller office. It was a comfortable room, plain and somewhat dark, but with very comfortable furnishings. The finest and most comfortable couch money could buy was provided for the clients. Likewise a very comfortable chair sat aside the couch for the Hypnotist. It was not often that the Irylid got to sit in the chair. It was a fine experience in comfort for him, something quite rare.

The Familiar sat in the armchair with his legs crossed and held himself with poise. His back was straight and his hands folded atop his lap. His shoulders were held back and his cloak draped down to hide his upper foot. But if one were to look closely, they could see his bare left foot planted firmly on the ground. The replicated skin every bit as gaunt and dry as his master's. However his countenance was once again blank.

The man before the Summon, he seemed quite the plain individual, though there was something odd of him. Definitely seemed stressed, to say the least. Ender looked him over, a dark haired man, quite small in stature. The silvery eyes narrowed to look over his garb. Quite the fine garments for somebody in this part of the Docks. There was little chance at all this man wandered in by mere coincidence.

That left the question of his motive. There was only so much that speculation could grant, and the Irylid had been sitting without speaking for far too long now. He spoke in a soft yet eloquent monotone to his client. "Hello, I am Miro, the owner of the Foundation of the Elemental Mind. I hold this interview with all potential clients, for it allows a more personal experience. Though most are unaware of what the Foundation may offer them."

The Irylid hesitated for a minute and pulled a fist to his mouth to clear his throat softly, then placed his hand to his chest and gave a sigh. While he did this, he communicated telepathically to his partner. "Come, observe from the door, let only your mask be visible." An order which the undead was not pleased to hear, he obeyed willingly. He dropped everything to move through the shop at a sluggish pace toward to crack open the office door and peer in.

"Excuse me," the Familiar exclaimed, "I just feel a bit not myself today." He smiled coyly at the remark before he continued. "Here at the Foundation, one can, for a reasonable fee, find themselves in themselves something greater than they ever imagined. That is my goal. I wish to see the best in a person brought out, to help them become their most perfect selves. This can be accomplished through the various services provided here."

Ender watched carefully as he danced around exactly what it was that was offered here. He wished to measure exactly how this man reacted. He continued his extensive monologue as the door creaked open slightly. Miro's hideous mask could faintly be seen around a dull gray eye that watched unblinkingly. "I am a capable practitioner of the magical arts, much like those at the Institution of Higher Learning, but of a much greater caliber."

However Miro had grown tired of this charade and was ready to barge in. His anxieties were easily perceived by the Familiar, and immediately he barked a silent order. "No Miro, stay! My method will make yours more effective. Give me but a few more chimes." The Irylid's face had lost its friendly charm and once again became blank and expressionless. He knew that he had to make this quick. It was time to find some clarity on this situation.

"I am able to offer three main services to my clients. Access to my magical abilities, access to my magical facilities, and most importantly of all, I can offer them access to my magical knowledge. However such knowledge is exceptional rare and does not come easily, even to those who would pay handsomely. This is, in part, why this interview is of such importance. So, with that said, I have but a few questions for you. You don't mind, right? No, of course not."

Miro hated to be ordered around, but understood the validity of his partner's method. He also realized a way in which he could make use of his close proximity to the client. The Aurist began to focus his Djed intently on the man that sat upon the couch. He began to catch glimpse of the aura, though to read the details was still beyond his grasp. He attuned himself to it with all his will could muster, and slowly he could begin to make out the most simple of details.

"I need only know a couple things. First of all, your name. Second is the reason you have come here, what possibly drew you into the shop. Third of all is what I can offer you that has your interest. It is okay to hold some hesitance, I only wish to better understand what it is I might do for you. My goal is to help you to become more perfect." Ender flared a burst of Djed through his eyes to instill a powerful suggestion. "Help me to help you."