shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

im not

 

twenty one and over, allegedly.

 

"Madness. Surely there isn't harm in sneaking a glass or ten, yes? I'm quite learned in the art myself."

 

Gwahahaha, someone's compensating! The greatest magic you could potentially perform is possession, and your soul is far from pure. Cease these pointless ejaculations of your status!

 

"Says the fool who doesn't understand the true meaning of power. The one who can work with their limitations and work well is powerful, no? In spirit, if not in word. There's quite a lot one can do with binding, by blood or otherwise."

 

...the Torisen Knorth count is currently four. Not all Torisens are Highlord, either. Clarification requested.

 

"...four?"

 

A lord, a dancer, a beast-tamer, and a face-changer walk into a revel...

Your Torisen might not have even made an appearance here yet. Point remains: "Kencyrath Highlord Torisen Knorth" inadequate identification.

 

Power is the ability to control. If your ability to control is weak, your power is weak. But if you consider yourself powerful, then attempt to withstand my mental attacks. If you can withstand them directly, I'll concede that you are unusually strong in spirit, at least for a mere poltergeist.

MARIN KARIN!

 

what else would you do at three am after your dads conked out for the night.

 

A talented blood binding ghost is not so easily controlled, dick. Greshan raises a brow, unaffected.

Exactly. Smart lad there.

"...I see. The Highlord is not a Torisen in truth. Still, my niece has need of the belief that she is."

 

*Mara droops slightly* Disappointing, you have the null charm and null bind attributes. I will not be able to gauge your mental strength by this means.

 

"Hmph. Good breeding in action."

 

vwhat about me. you could havwe me do it.

 

You can attempt to use sleep magic such as Dormina or Lullaby against it, but while its mental magic itself is paltry, its resistance too it is unusual.

Personally, I prefer to avoid using sleep magic, as it doesn't fit my aesthetic.

 

and a dumb dad. a good five years of breaking into his liquor cabinet and he never caught on.

*He picks up the coat fully, draping it over his shoulders a la @Slick.*

 

Good. A new home. For a bit. A new pawn to groom.

 

Tch...The old fart is going to have a field day with you.

 

"I died in the prime of my life," snorts the coat. He was still young and sexy damb you.

 

that sounds like youre suggesting i fuck the jacket.