Ellie's Vacation

Carefully, Ellie stalked forward, hunched low. She was covered in muck, and her pants were already torn to shreds. Her book was safe, though, as was her emergency supplies-- in her backpack.

Her stomach growled, and she quickly shushed her hunger. She wouldn't open those supplies, she told herself.. That would defeat the purpose of going out here.

She absentmindedly touched that thin scar on her cheek where that... monster had scratched her, and involuntarily shuddered at the crystal-clear memory of what it really looked like, to her Sight. No, she was out here for more than just one reason.
In her bag, she knew, were most of the materials she needed. She only needed one more thing...

She heard the bushes rustle, and bit her lip, trying to stay perfectly, utterly still. As she watched, two small antlers poked out, and then out trotted a small, young deer.
At least, it looked young. And it was still bigger and heavier than her, so it isn't quite small either...

She tightened her grip on the long piece of wood she'd roughly carved. Rocks do not good carving knives make.

Slowly, warily, the creature trotted closer, nose twitching as it smelled something. Closer, thought Ellie. Get closer...
She lowered her body some more, tensing to leap out with her makeshift spear.
The twig under her foot snapped, and the creature sprang away.
"No!" Ellie called, and gave chase. Over bushes and between trees, the two ran, the deer easily springing through the forest as Ellie lumbered behind, still much too clumsy despite her hunger-encouraged ferocity. On and on and on they ran, Ellie's legs screaming as she pushed herself further than before, clamping down on her urge to use magic. It wouldn't change things if she did, technically- Magic was part of herself, so it wouldn't invalidate the requirements... But it felt like cheating. It still mattered to Ellie that she do this with her own hands.

Finally, her lungs screaming for air and her legs sore, she spied the antlers roaming somewhere ahead. It'd slowed, Ellie realized.
Which means that it's tired too.

Carefully, ignoring her complaining body, she took a deep breath- and then charged.

---

Later, in the lodge, she lay on her bed, hair still wet and towel wrapped around her hips. She looked down into her bag, where the barely-worked leather pelt sat. It took quite a bit of doing, but she'd skinned it, cleaned it, and everything with her own hands. And now, her materials were all collected.

She stood, dressed, and then made her way into the living room. She looked around. She'd been living here for a few weeks, so it was as good a workshop as any. Not unless she wanted to fly all the way back to america, that is.

First of all, she needed her swords. Iron would bring her trouble with the fae she didn't want. If she did want trouble with the fae, she could just use a bunch of iron ball bearings as the ammo to a shotgun-like evocation. Any other metals wouldn't keep an edge- and beside, lugging around a sword might get her in trouble with the law.
Thick cotton strips, tightly woven and tied off at the edges with silver thread. With a needle and some more silver thread, she started connecting leaden beads every so often, and stitching in small runes around the surface of the fabric. Control. Power. A focus for her will- that's what she needed.
She wove a small shard of an old old sword in. She needed something she could push her will into, her conviction, and come out of it with a weapon.

Some time later, she wrapped both long strips of cloth around both wrists. She felt them lightly tugging at her energy, tentatively begging. With some hesitation, she focused on one and poured herself into it. With a 'fwssh' straight from the star wars movies, a long spike of will poured out. It gleamed, pure white, and she couldn't help but smile. Her eyes sparkled. With a slash of her arm, two legs of the table were cone and the entire thing tilted, all of her stuff sliding off.

She squeaked, and went to clean up her mess.

---

Amethyst, check.
Lead, check.
Silver, check.
Copper, check.

Ellie quickly decided that she wasn't a very good jeweler. The small purple jewel, already charged with her energy, thrummed as she wove copper thread around it, letting small lead beads dangle down. As she focused, murmuring to herself and concentrating within the circle, the necklace started to grow heavier and denser in her hands as it drew energy from the kinetic energy she was using to lift it, and colder as it started to draw the heat out of the air. The power within it crackled, the steady flow of power thrumming out of it. Her hair stood on end as an unnatural thrill ran through her. Surprisingly effective, even though she didn't even have it in the silver setting yet. She did, however, have the old chain from her charm bracelet just waiting for something new to be added to it. It would make a perfect necklace.

---

Late, late into the night, Ellie worked.
She was a lot better at this than she was back when she was working on those mageblades. Curious how good you get at things when you do nothing but that and sleep for a week and a half. The tanned leather slowly charred as Ellie kept her will focused, slowly singing runes into it with her fingertip. She was glad she's better at evocation now, even though she can only use fire for small, simple things like this. Deep within the leather, reminiscent of the creature she'd ended with her own hands, it seemed to jitter under her palm, wary and aware. Exactly what she needed- with this pressed against her, the remnant of that deer's own wariness would make sure she wasn't surprised for long. But unlike her old T-shirt, she needed it right against her skin. It might get uncomfortable, and definitely chafe going without a bra-

And then inspiration struck. After all, it did need to be pressed against against her skin. It didn't really need to be a tunic, did it? Underclothes would do just as well. She reached for the cotton and the silk thread, tongue between her lips as she focused.

It was just before sunrise that she finally finished, between chanting in romanian and grumbling about how she'd made the stupid mistake to drop her fashion class before she learned how to make things fit right.

---

Another day, another item. She leaned over the table, working with scissors, a needle, and a preposterous amount of silver thread. She mumbled in a language she didn't even really know as she worked, cutting and trimming it to size. Runes of her own invention lay imbedded or dyed into the fabric, silver thread gleaming where it was visible. An old shard of an ancient set of armor was set into the back, and shreds of her old T-shirt were carefully placed around the inner lining. The closer to her skin, the better.
It took quite a lot of work, and resizing the thing several times over before she could pull it on properly. But once she did, she looked at herself in the mirror, swooshing this way and that. She was glad that she hadn't gone with the full cloak-- it would get in the way of her arms when she was trying to fight.

It was smaller than a cloak, and smaller than a poncho, so the word 'mantle' seemed to fit it just fine. Mantle and Hood. After all, Mantle also meant a role. A responsibility.
She pulled the hood up. This was perfect- she was taking up the mantle of Rook. One who fights the dark.
At that thought, there was a low hum. The world seemed to waver around her, slowly distorting. It was working!
Experimentally, she held a pillow above her head, and dropped it.
It didn't fall straight- rolling slowly away from her, like it and she were two magnets of the same polarity.
Perfect. The faster something comes at her, the harder it will be deflected. Even bullets would miss, or the claws of some nasty. Not that she wanted to face either of them right now, with the way her body ached.
Carefully, slowly, she removed her Mantle and made her way to the bathroom. She hadn't talked to anyone in days, ever since her second-to-last disposable died. She ran the bath, and slid into the tub, wondering what she'd say to Penny next time she got to a working payphone.

Hmm... The Mantle of Rook. A mantle of power, a title, a station...

She splashed in the water with her feet and smiled. She wasn't just donning a mantle- she was making it. Making something new.
She liked the sound of that.