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Last Magician

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About Last Magician

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  • Interests
    The Grand Art, Building Artifacts, Flowers, Being Silly
  • Occupation
    Consulting Magician

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  1. The Lunarium Lecture Series

    "Bless You." "That's a terrible name," I interupted again, taking a moment to take another puff or two of my pipe, before setting it down. I let her continue with her minor freakout. "Point of order, her name was Juli, but she didn't arrive today, only you did, so that makes you the one, eh?" I shrugged, "Cammy with an i, listen- I don't take apprentices. I don't like to. The power I can grant.. is more than most people could ever handle. The fact that you don't want it is sign enough for me that you absolutely should have it. Look at me, I was an illiterate pearl diver before all this mess started. As a powerful magician- one of the few things that those who seek this kind of power can't be taught is humility." I stopped a moment, removing my giant hat, tossing it to the side, as well as removing my robe, showing that I was actually just plainly wearing my jhodpur boots, black trousers and spatterdashes, a waistcoat of golden brocade, and a simple white linen shirt and cravat. I had lost my nice arm garters so I had just tied them off with some red ribbon. Not quite the old homeless lout I was these days, but certainly worth making a good first impression. "People will say, 'with power comes responsibility' and it plainly isn't true. You have no responsibility to anyone- that is why people are worried for corruption. That is why magicians are feared and hated. We either don't fix EVERY problem in the world at once, or end up doing the wrong thing when we try anyway. There aren't any rules to this, but these are my guidelines:" "Magic is not a weapon; time is. Awe is the virtue of magic, and its vices are wonder and horror. Playing God is a form of masturbation. The moment you know everything there is to know about magic is the moment you die- so till then, you're an idiot and a fool, so you have the luxury of acting like one." "So I'm afraid you're my Apprentice." I pouted, gesturing to my table, "Would you like an intoxicant of some variety? Perhaps a stiff drink? Personally, I smoke this unicorn hair, as Nostalgia is my favored drug, but given that you now live a life of diluted consequences, could I recommend taking up some manner of otherwise life-shortening vice?"
  2. The Lunarium Lecture Series

    The pipe slumping in the corner of his mouth, features far to youthful to expect to hold any great mastery of the Arts drawn in a flat look staring down the bridge of his nose at her. A long, smoky sigh escaped him. "I was... I was trying to be subtle and mystical for once. This is the apprentice you give me," eyes cast up to the ceiling, as if doing a take to the divine, "I'm the Arcmagus. Call me Prospero. Or Atlantes. Not Merlin though, very overused as far as pseudonyms go. Which is to say, it doesn't matter what my name is. You can't say it- its a forbidden name in Terrenus. But suffice to say that in this world, I'm thrice-great Hermes as far as anyone is concerned. Anyway, yes." "So yes, the reason why I am having this lecture, and invited every extant being in the world, is to clarify and revise some broad misunderstandings when it comes to the Great Art of Magic. However, as I invited EVERYONE, and you're the only one showing up, that is a pretty clear hitsuzen that you are supposed to be my Apprentice. Just know I have a poor batting average. So yes, what is your name, my Apprentice?"
  3. The Lunarium Lecture Series

    There was a faint rustling, The wide-brimmed topper being pushed up once there was a head to fill it, a few ash-blond tresses falling down the sides. Lithe digits slid out, and it was clear from the length of their fingernails, coated in motley lacquer, along with the many wrings and baubles and cuts and dents that these were the hands of once a quite sheltered, delicate person who at some point, decided to leave the gentle world of hermitage and drift endlessly through places a person should not so often visit. But the eyes: azure and harmlessly out their mind, as one might expect a dozing field-mouse or the common cynic, sleeping amongst a pack of wild dogs. They sat on a peculiar face that would fit some classical Hermes or Aphrodite. It was clear some figure was now actually resting in the robe, sitting on the chair, almost as if they always had been. "You have all the power you will ever have right now. The difference between you as the Apprentice of The Art, and you as The Arcmagus is your understanding of that truth and your ability to be of both no-selfhood and overwhelmed by sublime imagination. That is it." A pregnant pause drifted, a hand reaching into an opposing sleeve, pulling out a clay pipe which had already been smouldering, a wave would crash over the girl as the smoke hit the air, feeling like everything save appearance would make a person think they were standing on a lonesome beach at sunset, save by sight. "There. Now when I ask you, 'What's the first thing I said, you can say that back to me, and we'll both be able to remember whatever the hell I was talking about before I drift off and insist I've invented the question mark. In all seriousness though, you'll do fine. Or we'll end up chucking lightning bolts at each other on the top of a mountain somewhere, still trying to remember where it all went wrong. Either way, many a laugh shared in good cheer I'm sure."
  4. You've been cordially invited.... to The Lunarium Lecture

    Student? Whoever said 'student'? That invitation went out to everyone. In the world.
  5. https://www.valucre.com/topic/38818-the-lunarium-lecture-series/ Come visit and join a dialectic on The Great Art. No combat (hopefully), libations, wonder, horror, and hopefully just some good conversation. Everyone has been invited.
  6. The Lunarium Lecture Series

    It couldn't have been said when the tower had shown up- just that it was there in the morning. It had the patina of age, a sense of decay and organic growth that suggested it was quite ancient and perhaps grown from some manner of acorn that created parapets and stairways instead of branches. All in all, it was either genuinely as it appeared, or at least, an artful forgery. To be expected considering who would be hosted. There were so many winding passageways, some sheer climbs at times as a stairway had become rubble and simple silken cord had been wound together to make a rope ladder. Regardless of how you entered, and what path at what fork you took, there were no dead-ends here- it all ended... in a proscenium. There were Coliseum seats arching around it, and a few worn columns about, but otherwise, the stage was truly above them- the moon, looking far larger than it should and the ceiling to their little venture, a pure dollop of cream in the heavenly teacup, the night swirling liquor all around it. There was a fainting chair set in the center of the stage, lounging on it, a strange figure, resting beneath their tall pointed straw hat, draped in a dark blue cloth, the round yellow brim sitting in the center just like the moon above. There was clearly a figure underneath, faintly snoring. There was a side table adjoining the chair, an ornate calabash set in a rocker, gently smoldering. A bottle of absinthe had been set alongside, it clear by the spoon drifting in the dirty glass that this had already been used. Stacked on the ground beside was a hefty bottle of laudanum, embalming fluid, something detailed as just "Elixir", and a large carboy filled with liquid mercury. The strangest thing was the note- on the back, written in blood, "You're cordially invited....." On the front, the card had been lacquered, a pearlescent coating drawing over a field of azure, an ink rich in golden fillagree just specifying this time, this date, and this place. "The Show Shall Begin once The Great Bell rings Thrice."
  7. Hello hey!

    Salutations! Welcome to the party!
  8. The boat drifted slightly above the ground, rocking on a gentle shallow, as though pitched near the shore. It floated down the road, minding the rudder, with my lantern hook set to the mast, the lantern itself unlit as it swung gently with the rocking of the boat. Pressing a rune on the rudder, the boat scooted forward if carried on a summer breeze, stopping in front of the rest of the "Morning everyone. I trust everyone slept well, ready for an adventure?" I asked, my words flanked by a plume of delightfully heady hookah smoke. It rolled oily up over the brim of my hat, still never meeting anyone's gaze, and I was bundled up with extra blankets. I was clearly sitting on a locked chest, resting atop a tea pillow. In the boat with me was a cauldron, an unfolded easel, some spare wood, a whole bunch of rope, a block and tackle, as well as a few sacks of raw materials, notabily iron, lead, and copper ore. The only thing of truly magical comport seemed to be a densely wrapped bundle of leaves sitting in the center of the cauldron-pot. Wrapped arround my wrist, there was a turquoise charm, a snake coiled into a bundle, at first looking like some fossilized shell but clearly ending in a snake's head, quite a bit of that oily astral quality coming off of it from those that were so inclined. The only thing beyond normal that was stranger then the sight of the magician was the quite visible circle of white light that was cast around his boat. "I can fit about two on here with me if anyone should care to join me." I started, unfolding an umbrella so none of the dawn sun to deflect some of that early morning sun from warming me up to quickly.
  9. With that, our league was set. Wasn't it already? Were we here to confirm... or was that event merely fated? The future didn't show anything so this had to be... the present? "Just give me a ship and a star to sail by" I smiled, tipping my hat to the man with the horse. I patted the shoulder of the Esper as he skittered off. "Sleep well Arcmaic! See you in the morning!" In the meantime, I took out a single gold coin, setting it on the bar. With the side of my hand, I chopped the coin, and quite simply it split into two coins. I slid one over to help those that were drinking, and the other I slid over to the winged boy. "Come to think of it," I said pulling a leather sack from inside my coat. Bunching up the end, I started blowing air into it until it bulged. I bopped the leather baloon against the bar three times... the last time it found its way down there was a knock and a rustling, it sounding quite heavy with coin. Opening it up, it was just the shine of gold glittering back at him. "Go nuts kid- get yourself food and provisions, fully outfitted for the adventure to come. And just make sure you don't fly to close too the sun as you do." I said to him, before wandering from the bar, it finally letting me leave the place, just in time to off to find a boat for tomorrow.
  10. The Magician Prospero

    True Name: Given Name: Prospero Age: Apparent Age: Late 20s - Early 30s Sex: Gender: Dandy Preferred Pronouns: Masculine Sexuality: Demi Race: Hume?: N Apparent Ethnicity: Central European circa 1700s Height: 5' 11" Weight: 140 lbs Skintone: Fair Eyes: Azure Hair: Ash Blond Religious Views: Henotheism Appearance: Almost a comical pantomime of a magician, Prospero dresses in the most stereotypical of attire. An absurdly tall straw hat marks his every location, a wide brim shading him pointlessly- given how loose the weaving is it is plain to see that from beneath its brim, he can see right through it. He goes to great pains to hide his face, and there is always a pipe or cigarette to be found between his lips. His lithe, elgant hands are hidden within torn and tattered gloves, clearly once a perfect fit for his hands. Silken rags patch together what was once a fitted silk shirt, a series of rotted harnesses and tattered ceramic boning clearly marking where once some manner of corset once sat. The blue cloak he wears clearly magical, though it too tied up with belts and buckles and knicknacks and patches of moss and possibly a bird's nest hiding inside of it. It is plain, by both the offcolor stripe and the lack of fit that his trousers were improvized, possibly from a circus tent. Oddly, the only thing that seems to be well-taken care of are his shoes- made of a fine black leather that shines in the light, and to which the elements have no hold over. Other key accessories include a large ashwood lanternhook staff, with its adjoining hurricane storm lantern. Being a magician, one would assume a wand, and one would be right, though he doesn't like to take it out very often. He also carries a strange starmetal rod, with a fully dexterous hand at the top, with long, sharp, pointed nails. It has a thumbport control that can cause it to extend as needed and can even be rendered immovable. The Pocketwatch is clearly a powerful magical survival tool common to a strange group that inhabited the tower at Blairville for a time. There is also a very large snake hiding in his clothing, possibly wrapped around his thigh. Class/Profession: Magician/ Consulting Magician Specialities: Artificing, Illusions, Alchemy
  11. I smiled as I watched smoke drift over the brim of my hat, sitting quietly, my eyes closed as I listened to the vixen jongleur go on about tattooed women swinging through trees. "Always glad to meet fellow Magicians," Not raising my hat in the least, my eyes cast on my pocketwatch, winding it and making sure the time was set right. "Provisions for... Let's say a week and a half? Climbing equipment- for the man in armor- seems likely that they are druids though. A few tarps and furs. No worries about a language barrier once we meet them. We might need to barter once we get in. And of course, if we're exploring such... Ultima Thule, I'll be sure to bring my cartography gear." I was mostly talking to myself, tapping out my pipe before hiding it in my robe... and pulling out a much different pipe. It's stem was long, straight and lacquered, a metal mouth peace set at one end and a small bowl at the other, set on the table quite plainly. I pulled some long strands of tobacco, rolling them into a kind of marble between my fingers before setting it in the basin- set between three prongs. I covered my hand over the basin, and when I removed it, it was perfectly lit. I set my keiseru between my lips. The ornate pattern of the laquer though- it was common to a certain craftsman in Terrenus. "Anyone who helps out here and gets back in one peace- I can get you to Terrenus. I'd say Wayland for the most of you. Yeah- stop off to see my brother. Sounds like a plan. Fair deal that you help our fearless leader find these mysterious flying tattooed women." I didn't seem to be addressing anyone, but I was certainly speaking loud enough to be heard.
  12. I was thrown through the door. When I got up and tried to run back out, the door wouldn't let me move it. Not to say it was immovable- just to me. I scowled at the doornob of the otherwise perfectly open door, and instead spun, trying to deflect anyone who might have been watching me make a fool of myself, by insinuating my way through some partying locals who were rousing up the joint before I made my way to the bar. I peered up in my straw hat at the ceiling, being mindful that people weren't crawling about the rafters and knocking their bootdust into my drink. "We're like the start of a bad joke, you realize." It was only then that I drew my pipe, squeezing in next to the man wandering around in full-plate in the middle of the day, before turning to him and plainly stating, "Oh my goodness, you must be hot in there. Do you need any help in taking that off, good sir?" I turn. It was quite plain to see what I was. Big oversized straw hat, overflowing blue robes that somehow were a perfect fit to not drag across the ground. Of course, if my usually quite androgynous face, the pale pallor, and ashen locks didn't give it away- I don't know what did? The pipe also added to the effect, stinking up the bar with the dash of madness I was having a puff of. I reached into my pocket, throwing a scattering of coins, it quite plainly ingots of gold, "Another round, all around. Prospero- your Magician."
  13. Discovery! Rumors to be investigated (Quest)

    Would your party perhaps be in need of a wizard? The Magician Prospero is available, should you need.
  14. Arrival at the court!

    There is very little left of what was crafted by my hand. Now just shadows. The town now called Blairville. An empty tower. Cartographers. Memories of those that met the Laughing Magician. His Brother, the Executioner of Weland. A few that took classes in Herbology in the Gaian Academy. A few of my battles which I could not get too in striking my name from the record. Everything else I stripped when I left- and those that remained graciously let the dead rest in peace. Though a corpse should be left well enough alone.... its secrets beckon so sweetly. ^_^ But now I'm back... to write new things. Time is the most deadly weapon: an arrow that flies ever onward, destroying everything it passes. But there is a future so long as there is always the will to create anew. ^_^
  15. Arrival at the court!