Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
Neutral ground - away from prying eyes sits a bar typically human customers. They buy drinks, they sit - they watch the news. To the people, this bar was one typically blended into plain sight. Nothing out of the ordinary; unless...
You're given a card.
A card shown to the Bartender is all it took - and after being gestured to go to the bathrooms of the bar, there sits a mirror. A mirror; which reacts to the card in your hands. It shimmers, before dissolving into a door, leading to a staircase. A basement?
Down the stairs, there's silence - till one more door remains. And once open, a quiet little Speakeasy is seen; music is playing, a bartender sits there. A spectral woman sings as a human woman plays at the piano. Strumming along with an easy going beat.
Memento Mori.
A bastion for those who need it; ran by Mori the Risen Witch. She can often be seen, in her office - conducting something, researching or comparing notes.
Anyone can get a card if they can be trusted to keep the Speakeasy a secret - a neutral ground, overseen by Mori for people to get a drink, discuss and such.
He was the familiar of a warlock. The pet of the militia forming. For many he was the gimmick and company not as taken serious yet. They had seen his abilities some, for many though until seen in combat things were all gimmicks. He spent two hours trying to convince one of the militia to lend him a card. Eventually however someone was willing to share. The critter let his partner know he was going to go explore. Marry didn't need to be told, the bond of a familiar made them almost always know where the other was. No the information was for him, because it meant something to Noir to have someone to tell.
On black wings the beast flew above the city. The world beneath his feet beneath his wings always a treat. He had felt so small before many times smaller now. When he soared above the city though such feelings were perished. He did though find himself wishing to spot prey more often. He would have loved nothing more then to have seen metas roaming. To be given an excuse to swoop down and burn the plague away. When not enjoying the company of the militia his thoughts still went to violence. He needed others to call friends, he needed some more company. Rumor had it there was another witch out there and that felt right to Noir. A place he could go without feeling as much the oddity.
Paws touch down on pavement. The critter lurks I'm shadow and waits for someone to approach. As the door opens the beast bolts between the legs and under tables. A flicker of midnight and then he was gone. Cloaked in shadow the critter moved to the restrooms. Benefit of being a cat he was small easy to become lost to the world. For a moment he waits, he can smell it nobody is in the restroom. However being a cat opening doors took some effort. Little more waiting, the music was building enough to hide the noise. A head bobs some to the beat then he moves.
A shoulder tackle knocks the pushable door open allowing the cat to enter to the restroom. Clutched in his teeth a card is raised and a mirror dissolves. Noir wouldn't admit to it but, his strut down the stairs and into the room was quite triumphant. Despite a card in his mouth he moved like a cat proud of a bird held in its mouth instead. A leap and the cat was on the counter. Eyes a shimmering gold, the card dropping as the animal spoke.
"'Noir, pleassure to meet you. Looking for ccompany and answers. Also had hopes though of an actual Speakeasy. Turns out a collar doesn't pass as ID for drinks."
Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
As the familar entered the Speakeasy - the room went quiet for a moment, some heads turned. Before they went back to discussing in hushed tones about their business. The counter was clean - very clean, as if it was almost brand new. A stark contrast to the bar upstairs - which was messy and had the standard look of a well used bar.
The Speakeasy itself - was just clean. Sterile almost. And as the cat jumped onto the table - the bartender looked over to the Card, and listened to it talk. For a moment, there was a faint look of surprise - before a practiced smile, and a nod - but as he opened his mouth to talk, a hand would reach onto his shoulder and brush him to the side.
"Please tend to the other guests, Barkeep. I don't think this one wants answers from you."
Morrigan.
They was suddenly behind the bar, a whisp of Darkness slipping down their side as she appeared - looking at the card, and the cat... And then brushing their hair to the side. If the Cat could detect any form of abitilty or power - it would see Mori and notice... Next to nothing. Average? But it was the Witch - no doubt about that. Simply the suddenly appearing act would confirm it; and they would flick a finger, a hand of darkness reaching over to grab a fine bottle of Brandy, as they also grab two whiskey glasses from under the bar.
"Mórrígan. It is nice to meet you... Noir. It is rare I see such creatures act on their own accord; much less stumble into my Speakeasy. It's a welcome sight. Allow me to gently remind you-"
They pour out the Brandy into the two glasses, humming a bit before putting the cork back onto the bottle. It smelled sweet; not strong, but the color was beautiful. They would bring out a Stirrer - gently stirring the drink before placing it in front of the cat and nodding.
"My Speakeasy is neutral ground. I'm sure whoever was given that card was told this - but with the current state of affairs, however you feel - this is my Domain. Love Metas, Hate them - it is of no consequence to me. As long as your opinions start and end at the street. Now with that established - I am the company, and how may this Witch help you today?"
Noir had no way of picking up on differences with levels of certainty. Some things could be smelled though or sensed for all the things Noir could decipher though he found nothing inhuman. Tiny shoulders seemed to relax some, head soon tilting to try the drink of choice. A sip for him enjoyed like a quick shot being downed. Side effect of being cat sized, what Noir needed to enjoy a drink was much smaller. He used to be a heavy drinker back when he had been human. A vice to help numb the senses after the monotony of work. Lot of things changed though when transformed into a feline.
"'No love lost on them but one looks to liquor to forget troubles not start more." He wasn't going to hide issues held against metas. He was happier being a familiar than he had been for some time, he still held a lot of hate in him however. Being turned into a cat it seemed did that to a man. Another sip of the alluring hued drink and a purr escaped the critter. Gold eyes briefly glancing to the side in embarrassment. The cat struggled some with accepting how much being a cat made his feelings worn on the sleeve.
"Magic seems more person to person than books from experience. Was curious though if had anything on pyromancy though to better develop abilities. I don't want to fail her...." Again the bright eyes seemed to shift, this time an ear lowering. The critter briefly absorbed in thoughts. He seemed genuinely both pleased but conflicting with what he had said.
"I was made different rather than born mystical. So really any tips on how to learn and grow is apreciated. All this is new for me and self taught chasing mice only gets one so far."
Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
Pyromancy?
The Witch would sip at their drink, before looking towards the cat and thinking for a few moments - weighing the request in their mind, judging it... Picking up on the tone - the 'I don't want to fail her' part of his reasoning. And then, they would click their fingers; an orb made of Darkness appearing at their side as they reach in. Noir could see on the otherside of the Speakeasy - the lights flicker in Mori's office, and then shut completely off. The Speakeasy itself remained lit and music carried on; and then the office lights would flicker back on.
Mori would pull their hand back out of the Orb, pulling out a book and a candle - unlit - and placing the candle in front of the cat, humming.
"Before I give you tips and tricks on such magics - know that my Magics come from a dark place. We of the Lineage of Hope derive our powers based on the suffering around us. Not in the... Edgy teen way, more that - we are mirrors; the darker the situation around us, the stronger we become. As such, my Lineage in particular does not use Pyromancy - but I would not be much of a Witch if I only knew of one school, would I?"
They would open up the book, placing it down and running a finger across a page - before looking to the candle and gesturing to it.
"Light it. But I want you to use such magics to do so - but don't think why or how you should. Just do it."
A test. Mori's understanding of Pyromancy was one of internal Hope and Determination. This test was to see if the Cat was self-assured enough - or if the cat was only doing this out of the fear of failure. Two distinct places; the second they knew would barely light the candle. Then she nodded, waiting to see how skilled this cat was - instead of hearing about it.
A paw reached out to the orb swiping at it. If allowed he would even poke his hand through the opening. Despite being a person before some of the traits of a cat were very much there. His curiosity got best of him and so Noir wanted to experiment with the mystery void. Eyes either way watching with serious intrigued interest. Ears parking up as conversation continued. "'Interesting would you say it's felt more or less empowered of late? I imagine that gives some insight then to ones suroudnings. Would be curious to know if in the eyes of the Lineage things are improving at all."
He doubted a positive answer would sway his thoughts. He still pictured the world as corrupted by the metas running free. That vendetta wasn't just going to fade away. He was interested though in what the witch thought and her powers might say of things. He laughed some at the instructions.
"Doesn't saying that just make one want to think how more? Suppose why never interested me however. My ex made me this way to see if she could. Anyway.."
Pushing thoughts away he briefly dipped his head into the glass. Savoring some of the drink before moving to the candle set out for him. "Burn." Most his abilities did require a spoken component. That said it didn't seem to come with much difficulty of challenge. It also was no sense of doubt or concern over the matter. The critter just wanted a better grasp of his abilities. Mary in Noir's eyes deserved the best familiar he could be. So here he was curious to see if he could improve. It wasn't desperation just a drive to provide better for the one person he'd managed to care for.
Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
"I would say I am incredibly strong right now. Hope for a better future is at it's all time highest."
Mori answered plainly - turning their head to the cat and humming a bit. They would watch the candle light, turning some pages and reading - before turning to the candle, reaching over to snuff it out with a finger that created darkness - wrapping around it. Then they scribbled in their book - before turning it towards Noir.
"Self-actualization. That is a good way to address Pyromancy. Pyromancy - in generic terms - is supplied by ones own confidence and determination. The burning internal spirit. The most powerful Pyro-Mages I've written about and known burn with flames of Violet; melting metal by sheer determination alone. While you can easily light flames and burn; you can always burn brighter."
They would scribble in the book, before turning pages and showing the violet pages of the book - the violet pages of flames burning their hottest.
"Each of these magic-wielders shared something in common - determination, and that self-actualization. Determination is learnt through discipline - you train every day, you light a candle till it burns blue. Self-actualization... That's something I cannot help with. More mental than magical. An example is... I want you to imagine an artist who has never made profit on his art. But is uncaring of such; the art is calming. He enjoys it so he does not care to make a profit from it - uncaring so long as he can take part in his trade."
They would smile; before leaning on the counter and drinking their brandy. They would look around the bar, seeing other customers drift in and out before turning back to Noir.
"Of course; thats my advice. Perhaps an actual Pyromancer with experience will maybe expand and possibly correct me. But that is what I have observed."
His head dipped back into the glass tongue lapping at the alcohol. The burn it provided got a soft purr to escape the critter. He had felt for so long like he was lost to the world and the pleasantries he used to know. Falling in with Mary and trying to accept idea of being a talking cat did wonders and finding a bar willing to provide drinks to a cat completed the deal. "'Sounds like the heroes aren't enough, what a shame." This was supposed to be neutral ground so he tried to bite back some of the cynism that would have jumped to just blaming metas.
"Any plans for such power?"
Not that it was his job to recruit anyone was arguable if even could. He was a cat though so of course he was curious.
His thoughts dwelled on the rest of the conversation of actualization and drive. So much also though was very human. That made plenty sense but had some annoying undertones for him. Noir after all was no longer human. He spent some twenty eight years taking his human body for granted. He had only been a cat so far for a year. A year was long enough though to intimately now miss so many things. "Appreciate the help by the way. Cats wanting to discuss working on ambition by setting homes on fire though probably isn't good business though. What got you into running a bar when magic provides likely so many more options?" The advice was solid but trying to practice fireworks likely wasn't best here. So instead the cat searched for conversation. He'd spent a lot of time alone sometimes just conversation did marvels for an individual.
Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
Mori would listen to the cat, sipping their drink - before grabbing the bottle again and pouring out another before placing it down in the middle of them. Distinctly, the alcohol didn't really draw a reaction out of her. Despite the strength of it. The witch would sip it a bit, before looking around the bar - gesturing to the other customers in the Speakeasy.
"No, no. The heroes are enough. But where there is suffering, Noir - there is Hope. The witches of Hope typically cause suffering just so these... Heroes can bring Hope to the people; making us stronger. It's a horrible cycle..."
They would swirl the drink around, and huffing a bit - the person on the piano plays a new song. They would sigh again, before looking towards Noir once more.
"...Something I do not partake. I ease suffering; this bar eases it. Makes people Hope. And the day I appear to defend them, their Hope will make me stronger. Selfish; not evil. So long as people have a place to be happy, hopeful; so long as people do it, I will get stronger. And I will one day help as much people as possible. What got me into running this bar?"
They remain silent for a moment. Thinking. Before smiling.
"Spite. My parents find my gifts wasted on me. I am proving them wrong, just by being in Pittsburg. One day I will be needed more than just the bar. And that'll be the day I am at my strongest."
"'Can't fault spite. Having something to prove is something far easier to understand." The witch called it selfishness, mentioned the vicious cycle to how her ways operated. For all that though it still did sound far more altruistic and for the better than anything Noir himself could testify to. So far way he would describe things when he looked at Marry who he was the familiar of he saw someone right and who he'd die for. He of course was nowhere near as close to Mori, but when he looked at her he saw someone good. What was good wasn't always what was right but there was weight in the distinction.
His drink finished and a paw dipped into the glass. Soft black fur absorbing the remaining drops. He didntndirty the glass with any loose hairs but it allowed him to retrieve every last drop. His tongue moving to clean his paw. Maybe that was rude, but what were table manners to a cat? Besides he hadn't had a drink in a year he didn't feel right letting it go to waste. "Sounds like your methods were able to evolve? If hope is a fuel source alongside suffering? How'd that come to be?"
Noir found he liked listening. He didn't want to get to know metas they deserved the pyre. The world was so interesting however maybe it was elevated from his lack in ways to interact with it. How so much of the world was astray from how he'd known it and now. Hearing stories that were human helped to feel human. "Also may I get another shot? Think two is my limit though smaller body and a cat shouldnt fly home under the influence." He blinked briefly gold eyes glaring at the glass a moment. Just one shot in and his lips were loosened some? Normally he wouldn't have just blurted out the fact he could fly.
Pittsburg.
Location: Memento Mori - Mori’s Speakeasy.
Another shot - Mori would flick their hand and the bottle is brought to them, as they brought the glass back over. They would pour it out, nodding as they thought about how to answer. And then humming.
"Where there is great suffering - there is Hope. The best way to answer that is to look back into human history."
They would gently wipe over the counter before placing the shot back over to Noir, humming and just thinking - putting thoughts to words. Best to explain it really; it was true. So many points in human history had untold amounts of suffering but the people suffering also had untold amounts of Hope. Hope - makes people get up. Hope however, is just as bad.
"Hope - it's not a positive thing, Noir. It prolongs suffering. Think of a man who wakes up, daily - going on and on with their life Hoping one day it will get better. That Hope makes him stagnate. Each day gets worse; Hope blinds him, his intentions darken and in turn - due to that, I get stronger."
They explain, humming a bit as they sip their drink and place it back down - tapping the counter with the glass.
"Hope - however - is also something that can be used for good. There have been heroes who inspire it and also are worth even half their weight in gold. Saving people. Changing lives. Making things better - extra-special cases where it's good. But day to day life in this life, Hope gets you back up. The question is, should you?"
Noir's ear at times twitched at times a tail swished. He certainly was listening but the conversation had gotten bleak and so he had spent time also sipping on the alcohol provided. Savoring the drink, great full that by now he was used to the odd aspects and adjustments he had to make as a cat. He saw where the witch was coming from but it was nihilistic sounding to him. Or maybe he to was just hopeful.
Wanted to purge the world of metas, lot of that was genetics though. If the population was just a growing symptom stopping it might be foolish an unrealistic hope. He would love to learn he could return to his days as a human, that was a hope though that likely a old never have a net positive outcome. He would like to think he could grow in power, but all the hopes to be like a dragon wouldn't change the fact he was a cat. Maybe then Mori was right hope and suffering just two sides of a coin.
"'Maybe not. Maybe i should have just tried to go up in flames with the ex. I rather like living though, catisms aside neeting new people. Finding a purpose. Plenty to complain about but isnt all bad." The feline remarked eventually pulling his head from the glass. Little paws propped itself on the rim as he raised himself up some to look down into the glass. Gold eyes briefly staring at the fluid, maybe the ideas of calling it liquid courage had weight. Or maybe hope he could do more for someone was getting to him.
Noir tried to visualize what he wanted to come. To fabricate the spell in his mind. Tried to reach into his chest to find the resolve to try for emerging more. "You call it hope. It is but agony of desire." It was a quote of a poet. The astute of course could tell such words were not incantations for a spell. Then again however sometimes it wasn't the words chosen but the meaning they carried. He was a cat, a cat claiming to have pyromancy focused arcana. Who really knew how that even worked in the ever changing world?
while the how might be a mystery the what wasn't. As the words were spoken and that tiny maw opened a flame burst from the tongue. It was more like a lighter than a flame thrower. The flame though was brighter white up to about center of its flame rather than just the base. The fire flowing from his mouth reaching far enough to enter the glass and light up the bit of remaining alcohol. A soft purr of delight escaping the little critter. "Hardly the dragons breath i imagined. But not nothing." Not everyone new the expression, but the slight dilation in eyes that were partly closed and the closed eyes, the way his posture and muscles relaxed some. They were tells of a smile for a cat, Noir feeling a hint of triumph even if it wasn't the result he imagined. Thankfully he wasn't a dog, he could he found learn new tricks.
Miight require alcohol and quirky company but who was he to be picky?
