Leon Vincent (voodoowho) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2015-05-18 10:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: bushara terra, character: leon vincent, location: academy hallways, location: class - art room |
Thread: Intangibility Training
WHO: Bushara & Leon
WHEN: May 10th, a little past midnight and on into the wee hours of the morning [backdated]
WHERE: Empty classroom inside the castle
Leon's vampire power wasn't like his sire's. He'd only discovered his ability to turn to mist by accident in the first couple of weeks after he'd been turned. Traveling in mist form was tricky and while he could do it instinctively when under duress or intense emotions, like hunting, trying to control it otherwise was challenging and Leon wanted to get better. Just as with his witchcraft, he practiced dutifully every chance he got, not just the mist form, but all the other physical aspects of his new vampire life. He'd never been a very physical person, and now almost everything he did was hands - and fangs - on.
Meeting Bushara several weeks ago in her smokey form had given Leon the idea of possibly learning from her. Though there were obvious differences in their abilities, being intangible was similar enough for Leon to believe she could help him. The trouble with that was that she was all too willing, and he hadn't yet decided if she was just being nice, or if she was genuinely interested in aiding him in his efforts to master his power.
He had texted with her after he got off work, making the travel from Nazar in Camden back to the Academy in record time due to vampire speed and the ease with which he could move through the forest under cover of night. Leon smelled like a box of potions Salem had dropped and broken and it had been Leon's job to help clean it up safely. The spot wouldn't be safe for witches to stand on for several weeks until they could get the stuff out of the floorboards completely, but a vampire was unaffected. Lavender and sage with other mysterious scents hinting through was on his clothes, combining with the smell of the woods he'd run through.
The classroom was dark and Leon didn't bother turning on the light. He propped himself up onto one of the desks, drawing up his knees and resting his arms across them as he waited for Bushara to come. Lifting one hand, Leon studied the dark ink marks of his tattoos, and then consciously made the hand begin to dissolve into mist, coiling and curling up his arm.