AoG Training

Margati Dorice had finished the majority of her training. She understood the mana of her magic and her allies, the numbers of dolls that followed her. It had been an extremely long process. One that started months… what felt like a lifetime ago. And ended only recently. Now, however, she realized that simply having and understanding it wasn't enough. (1)<br><br>

Realizing this, she began training her magic to be more properly aligned to that of her summons. Why them, one might ask, and the answer was quite simple. Her mana was that of darkness. She understood this. But it wasn't as steeped in darkness as others, much less like her own dolls' who were born of the same darkness she was. (2)<br><br>

Her mana was darker. And her body was… Only lightly attuned to it. She understood that her body and mind were mere inches apart from each other. In truth, she knew full well that attuning herself to darkness in flesh would also attune her to her darker emotions. Not just the ones she was happily attuned to, like her sloth and pride… But even… That L word. (3)<br><br>

She had a feeling that she might actually start dropping H-Bombs when she was more attuned. But scarier than that… She was more than a little aware at how far she has separated from her wrath. A piece of her almost seemed to actively deny its existence. And she understood why. Her malice didn't burn hot like wrath would. It was cold, calculated, and came with no emotion. (4)<br><br>

If her buried fury was suddenly dug up just for more attunement with her body… Would the girl she became on the other side still be the same as the girl she was now…? It was a horrifying thought to her. She was completely without wrath, she didn't even get angry, usually, when hurt. She was without the L-word, too, because of her past traumas. (5)<br><Br>

Margati Dorice had begun thinking long and hard on this. The more she did, the more she scrunched her nose. Was it worth it…? Sure the benefits in terms of power was great. She was so far from being attuned to darkness that she would likely hurt herself when she ascended. She chuckled at the idea, knowing that that wasn't the case. But still. (6)<br><br>

Even now, weighing the pros and cons, she struggled. She held one of the dolls close to her chest, brushing their hair, looking down at them past her chest… Her chest… That's right. She wasn't a child anymore. She couldn't -stay- a child. Even now she had so many childish quirks that she would end up streaking if not for her mother's insistence as a child to always remain covered, even when alone. (7)<br><br>

She sighed. She hated L… Lust. It was the source of so much pain for her. Seeing her parents fight. Her father beat her mother and then… She shook her head. She knew what happened, but always looked the other way. She was a child, and didn't know how to deal with these things. Now she understood all of it, and it troubled her even more. (8)<Br><br>

Then there was the bandit queen, Vaniel. Would becoming more attuned to her darker nature change her view of those horrible memories? Seeing her threatened, and seeing the closest thing to a father abused daily. Well. Usually more than just daily. Would she find joy in seeing the memory of her roaring in rage when he picked her up and bounced her off the ground a few times? (9)<br><br>

She didn't want to like those things. She didn't want to like lust and wrath! She didn't want to become those evil things! She almost dropped the brush when she realized she had been brushing the doll tok roughly. The leas than calm girl gave it a hug as it looked back at her worried. It must have felt how she did. It was part of the spell that bound them together, afterall. (10)<br><br>

Margati Dorice looked towards the offended doll in her hands. "I don't know, anymore… I know you can't talk, but can't you just… Tell me?" She asks, looking towards the doll for answers. "I want to know that I won't lose my kindness. That my heart won't change just because I let myself feel dark things. I don't want to change! I--... I…" The near hysterical blue clad woman calmed down when she saw the doll with tears on it's cheeks. (11)<br><Br>

Reaching forward she tried to wipe it's cheeks as it did the same for her. How long had she been crying? It put a hand on top of hers and stared at her. She… Could tell it wanted to speak. To tell her the answers she needed. Just like how she wanted to say them to herself, but her heart broke the more she thought about it. She was a child. (12)<br><Br>

Not physically, but in her heart. The entirety of it was child-like. Refusing bad things and pretending that everything was okay, even if it wasn't. Her encounter with Naralu the day before was proof of this. She didn't stand proud. She didn't make a tactical decision. She didn't. Make her way to a safe place. She stood there, scared. Her heart was weak. It was… (13)<Br><Br>

"Incomplete…" The woman felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she said this. She was weak… She was alone… She was a small child curled up in their small tent, ignoring the sounds of violence as her parents fought for dominance between eachother. Their love long gone as they struggled to deal with eachother. (14)<br><Br>

She was a child calling for daddy as her new father was beaten and abused on her behalf. She was a child looking to the closest thing she could call family as soon as she entered Suna, finding a replacement for all those she lost across her many years… And she was still that child who smiled when people saw her, because she was afraid, and people could see her weakness when she cried. (15)<br><Br>

Margati Dorice had lost all the things that were important for her as a growing woman. She lacked lust to the point of not being able to speak her mind, even when she craved nothing but the other person's love and attention. She lacked wrath to the point of not even having hate for the people who took advantage of her love and trust every step of the way here. (16)<br><br>

She understood, more and more as she wrestled with these facts. This attunement was something that should have come naturally. Embracing dark emotions should be something she could have done long ago as a sarien, but as an etherion… She could run from these feelings. Hide from them. Bury them deep and repress them. (17)<br><br>

It wasn't wrong to choose apathy to not feel these things, but it was wrong to not allow them to become her. People need these things. She especially needs these things! Smiling at this realization, she put her head to the doll's. It was her attempt at letting them know that 'yeah, I get it now.' (18)<br><br>

It was almost like Tunde said. Dark emotions. Her greed was… Always non existent. She didn't have want for materials. Except maybe food, but that was her glutton speaking. The summoner didn't desire what others were. Maybe what they knew, but that was just a thirst for knowledge and growth, and it was to a rather healthy degree. (19)<br><Br>

She wasn't proud. Not because it wasn't something that could touch her soul, but because she felt nothing to be proud of. Maybe the dolls, but for them it was almost like the love a parent has for their children. She loves them, and feels pride in them, but it was still not self-pride and not to the level of declaring herself a higher being or anything. (20)<br><br>

Margati Dorice went down the list. She was very slothful. She chose to ignore feelings, she believed in very few things outside of herself, and she has her summons do almost everything for her, including walking. There was no debate about her terrible sloth that she borderline oozed. It was almost gross. And she was content with that. It was the trait that made her summons possible, even. (21)<br><br>

Wrath. Anger. Hate… Three words that Mari didn't associate with herself in the least… But why not? She had every reason to. People abandoned her. Hurt her friends. Hurt her family. Burned her home to the ground. Chased her across the world, as far as she knew, and made her feel like trash! She would be seething with hate! And yet… (22)<br><br>

She knew it wasn't natural to feel none of it. She repressed these feelings so far down that she could almost feel the heavy pit in her stomach. Her hate should be overwhelming for Naraku. Thinking back on everything he had done to her and those she loved, she could feel it, but it was always overridden by… Fear. Of course. The blue clad woman understood now. (23)<br><br>

She always smothered her anger, indignation, and all negativity towards people in fear. Fear for their reactions. Fear for their wrath if she ever let her ire loose on them, and especially against the 'Lord of Wrath' who could simply wipe her away. Trying to move past this fear wouldn't be hard… not because the summoner was stronger, but because it was a defense mechanism she had simply accepted. (24)<br><br>

She knew it wasn't okay. Perhaps the poor thing had always known. But she understood why it was necessary for so long. And looking back… The reason for its success was obvious. Sure she had a bit of anger in her, but it was always justified. Terran who abandoned her, her father for destroying her home, Vaniel for hurting the people she cared about, and Naraku for all of the above. (25)<br><Br>

Margati Dorice focused on her darker emotions again. That Arcadian boy… His bilous hate for lycanus and necromancers whom many people thought better than she was left her realizing that Arcadia had more hate and anger than she did… A stronger connection to hate than she herself, a child of a lord of sin. It was a bit ironic. (26)<br><br>

And then there was the woman, Nyoko… Who reminded her of her weakness to anything lust-like… Emotional trauma and mental trauma from the continuous sexual assaults of her mother and her eternal gladiator. She couldn't even say the R-Word when referring to her heck puppies, nickname given to them by Mr. Jecht. (27)<br><br>

She loved her summons, but even hearing about their lust-based activities outside of the control of a summoner or a master… She felt a hint of disgust to what was originally a summon she was proud to have. That wasn't right. She needed to get over this unjust hate for lust, and move on. Not saying she would hop into a man's bathtub, but she needed to address her disgust. (28)<br><br>

Moving past this was not something she could handle doing right away, but her determination to make a mark was strong. She focused… On the moments that hurt her most. Her father and mother. Fighting about heirs. Arguing about needing a son, about a useless womb unable to bear children… Followed by him forcing her into sex, even if she didn't want to. (29)<br><br>

It upset her. She hated it so much that she wanted to rage vomit. Her anger, her unleashed wrath showing as she felt angry tears brim on her eyes as she thought about that monstrous man who hurt her far more than any blade. Her mother had protected her from his disdain until the day she died, and while she had no proof, she knew it.  Because the moment she was gone… (30)<br><br>

She then thought of Vaniel, the bandit queen who tried to force a child from her Eternal Gladiator. She loved his smell, his strength, his size, his unyielding anger and fierce loyalty to what she presumed was his child, and attempted to force him to give her one as well, attempting to tie him to her bandit camp and securing him as her belonging. She had taken joy in beating and whipping him in her sadistic way. (31)<br><br>

Margati Dorice became more and more angry as she thought more and more on the subjects of sex and lewdity. She hated it. She hated everything about it! She wanted to pour in a gallon of oil, light a match, and watch the thing burn, screaming in ago--... She could tell how angry she felt, but then the opposite feeling came up… Something warm, and even calming. (32)<br><br>

Jia and Ishtunsta… Two people who brought out the most love in her. One was very very sexual, to the point where even early on, poor Mari had felt the moisture down under. The other brought such strong feelings that she thought, herself… 'Maybe she will be the one to help me with this problem.' And she truly felt that for both of them. Even if they both ended up leaving her behind. (33)<br><br>

Her heart was softened.lust was… A point of hate in her heart. There was little to no contesting that, and she knew it might not properly change for the rest of her life. But it led to very beautiful for the things around her. Friendships for Jia and her many past lust makers, a husband for Ishty, something that made the poor Mari happy, even if she cried internally at not having it herself. (34)<br><br>

But most importantly… She saw the start of a family. A true family. Jia was pregnant. And sure it was born out of love, but that love came out of sweaty, gross, hip banging, smelly, panting, moaning and groaning, lust. The thing she was adamantly against from the very beginning. And the reason she was so far behind the others, as something she could not properly embrace like everybody else. (35)<br><br>

Connecting with this 'dark emotion'... It wasn't evil. Not really. It was extremely chaotic, and could swing wildly from evil to good in the farthest of extremes. This was something she had learned only the evil side of as a child, seeing people taken advantage of time and again because of lust. But now…? She was starting to see… Good. Real good. (36)<br><br>

Margati Dorice became more and more angry as she thought more and more on the subjects of sex and lewdity. She hated it. She hated everything about it! She wanted to pour in a gallon of oil, light a match, and watch the thing burn, screaming in ago--... She could tell how angry she felt, but then the opposite feeling came up… Something warm, and even calming. (37)<br><br>

Jia and Ishtunsta… Two people who brought out the most love in her. One was very very sexual, to the point where even early on, poor Mari had felt the moisture down under. The other brought such strong feelings that she thought, herself… 'Maybe she will be the one to help me with this problem.' And she truly felt that for both of them. Even if they both ended up leaving her behind. (38)<br><br>

Her heart was softened.lust was… A point of hate in her heart. There was little to no contesting that, and she knew it might not properly change for the rest of her life. But it led to very beautiful for the things around her. Friendships for Jia and her many past lust makers, a husband for Ishty, something that made the poor Mari happy, even if she cried internally at not having it herself. (39)<br><br>

But most importantly… She saw the start of a family. A true family. Jia was pregnant. And sure it was born out of love, but that love came out of sweaty, gross, hip banging, smelly, panting, moaning and groaning, lust. The thing she was adamantly against from the very beginning. And the reason she was so far behind the others, as something she could not properly embrace like everybody else. (40)<br><br>

Connecting with this 'dark emotion'... It wasn't evil. Not really. It was extremely chaotic, and could swing wildly from evil to good in the farthest of extremes. This was something she had learned only the evil side of as a child, seeing people taken advantage of time and again because of lust. But now…? She was starting to see… Good. Real good. (41)<br><br> (41)<br><br>

Margati Dorice could already tell that her… Lack of repression? Embracing chaos? Both were accurate. It helped her embrace a new level of darkness in her body. Dark mana was tuned to dark emotions, and the more chaotic, the better. Embracing them wasn't easy for her, though. And because of this, becoming attuned to that chaos wasn't easy. She had grown up with a consistent feeling of loss, but contentedness. (42)<br><br>

Still, getting past her hangups with lust… Sex. She needed to at least mentally say the word, even if her mouth wasn't ready to say what she thought. It was a process. And thinking back… her wrath wasn't so far from her heart, in truth. She had things she hated, and that was okay. Hell, it gave her the strength to fight a literal fort of bandits to the death with a cold calculation. (43)<br><br>

Perhaps her chaotic nature wasn't born of evil like most. Wrath in the right place. Lust with the right people. These two things that held her back were stronger in her than she ever wanted to admit, but embracing it. Finally. It was slightly liberating. Did she hate people? Some of them! Was she a gruesome fighter? Just a little. Did she ever feel lust for another person? Yes. Rarely. And those feelings were strong. (44)<br><br>

In fact it was obvious, in retrospect. She feels incredibly strong emotions all the time. It was why her dolls were important. She felt light and dark emotions. Happy, sad, anger, love, even lust, even if she hated it… Maybe hates, but trying to make it past tense, so incredibly much. Why would she lock away most of these emotions? Sharing them was incredibly fun among her dolls. (45)<br><br>

In fact, despite her apathy, it was one of her greatest features. She felt strongly! Sure she had her dolls borrow her emotions, but that was because she had too much for herself! These dark emotions were as much a part of her as everything else! She needed to rage! She needed to cry! And one day she would need to lust! These were part of her! (46)<Br><br>

Margati Dorice was realizing her inner weakness in her repression for so long, she started to break down the barrier she built herself to the power of dark attunement. She couldn't say certain things, still. She was still mild mannered. But to heck with it! She was her own person, and she would embrace all this dark mana! She would let it all flow free in her body and make herself a vessel for all of it!  (47)<br><br>

To heck with all the people who saw her as just some nice girl! She wasn't so one dimensional! She had reasons for everything, and even her nice nature was a product of her past! Letting the darkness in in more than just the superficial way of her body creating it was important! To help her attune her body, she began to meditate on all the things she had held back while letting mana flow through her. (48)<br><br>

Focusing her dark mana into her own body, she tried to get into the habit of channeling her dark mana through herself. She tried to focus on those dark emotions she had spent so long trying to tap into. Her emotions being one of many forms of focus she used. Even if she was splitting them between her summons, they were still her emotions in their entirety. (49)<br><br>

Margati Dorice nods in understanding as she her eyes widen. "Everything I have, then!" She shouts over the shield as two more dolls appear from the air around her, an ache in her head as they were summoned force, drawing the remaining two spears before joining the formation as the ten dolls all leapt forward at their highest speed and jabbed with all their might into a single unified attack. (50)<br><br>

Despite the number, the ten of them still managed to land their strikes to the same square foot of area, putting in so much pressure, that it might as well have been a single strike. That was the full power she could manage as her nose bleed and head ached with the sheer stress drew hard on her mind. (51)<br><br>

Margati Dorice calls her dolls back to her, giving each of them a hug, congratulating them, though she was deadpan the entire time as she dismissed them one at a time until emotion slowly returns... And then she's smiling widely as only four remain and she gives each of them their reward. "When I summon too many, they draw more than my mind has to offer, and I lose more than my emotions." She explains. (52)<br><br>

"It's painful, and going too far can burn my mind away. I've never done that." She admits. "When my mind develops more, I'll be able to summon them without hurting myself." She further explains, giving a hug to Elstiria as she  approaches. She felt so happy with herself, she EVERYBDOY nearby was a victim of the hugs. Poor Els likely wouldn't have seen it coming. And the poor girl was now probably aware... That despite Mari's underdeveloped maturity... Her chest was definitely more developed. Boob squish. (53)<br><br>

Margati Dorice summons out her dolls until there's nine of them. One more than her limit before. "I would normally have them take a spear, each." She says reaching to her bandolier before putting it to the side. "But this is a spar." She admits as she puts it on her Veturian pelt. "And that tactic is for another day." She admits, before stepping in front of Tendaji. (54)<br><br>

"I'm ready for you to try to kill me." She says, letting her dark mana flow out and around her... Tendaji could see there was a difference from her before and after. If he could sense the difference in her, he might understand why she was confident in her ability to survive, though maybe not in the way he expected. If he couldn't... She felt almost apologetic... But she would still stand ready for the fight. (55)<br><br>

Margati Dorice watches as her dolls are picked off easily, the arrows piercing right through their bodies as they were forcibly returned to the maosen. "I knew you were strong, but I didn't expect this. Then I guess this is the only choice I have now." She says as she summons four more... All clinging to her back as she starts to... Rather slowly walk forward, cracking her knuckles. They were using her as a shield instead of the other way around. (56)<br><br>

Tendaji, meanwhile, feels an oppressive feeling as though even his arrows felt heavy. As though he was well into this combat and starting to feel tired. It was the side effect of her. He didn't know how, but it was a sudden feeling that started when he drew his bow, and he was likely unable to stand it for very long. (57)<br><br>

"Mr. Tendy. You have the power to end the fight rather quickly." She admits. "Those arrows were super strong. I told you to fight as though you intended to kill, not defeat." She claims as she approaches. "If you don't... You might die in a real fight." She admits, noting that Ban wasn't here to object, suddenly. She needed him to try his hardest... She needed to know that this would work. She -needed- to know. (58)<br><br>

Margati Dorice felt the arrows strike her arms, punching right them at the joints, losing her arms in the process as she dropped to the ground... But at the last second... Her flesh knit around the arrows, holding her arms on, even if only by the slimmest of margins... "People said they worshipped her... But she was just like me, wasn't she?" She asks, still not able to move her arms properly enough to cast magic. (59)<br><br>

The dolls moved on their own, thankfully, being that they were living creatures, but she wasn't able to cast magic using her hands. "An etherion of sloth... Their soul too lazy to move on, no matter what happens to them..." She claims, finally giving clarity to her strange longevity. "They treated her like a deity... But she was just too lazy to die." She half laughs, tears in her eyes from the pain. "I think I finally get it." She admits.  (60)<br><br>

She begins speaking words in the tongue of sloth as a slime appeared in front of her, acting as a barrier while the dolls continued to press forward, attacking without relenting as they chased after the archer with all the speed they could muster to swing together as a group, their fists moving in unison as they attacked together. Their combined efforts were dangerously effective. (61)<br><br>

Margati Dorice shook her head. "I know better. I'm no god. I'm not even a half-god." She watched him run and smiled as she called her dolls back rather than having them chase. "I'm just a girl who's too lazy to die." She explains as the dolls begin ripping the arrows out of her chest and arms, the holes filling up soon after with flesh.  (62)<br><br>

Margati Dorice had recently ascended. That is to say, she had awoken to who and what she was. She was the daughter of an etherion of sloth. One of the ones who was content to sleep away his existence, ignoring the walk of time, because it was a bit too much effort. Essentially dead to the world as we know it. Her mother was a sarien. A gray sarien, with no alignment to light or dark. (63)<br><br>

The woman had married a sapien man who loved her very much and she him. They were both explorers in their youth and had come to love each other through many chance meetings. She was looking up former lords and etherions who had left a mark on history and disappeared. She had found one such being's tomb and had begun excavation when her husband began pressuring her for a child. (64)<br><br>

As weeks passed, pestering became pushing, and pushing became shoving. Before long, it was clear he would stop taking 'not now' as an answer. She wanted to tell him the truth about her heritage, but kept it secret for fear of losing a man she married. So… She turned to something she did know. She begged a lord of sin in prayer. Any who would listen. To give her a child. One answered. (65)<br><br>

He told her that to achieve her goal, she simply had to unseal their son buried in the tomb they found. Eager to do this, she hastily went to the tomb and began ripping open the sealed sarcophagus, freeing a young looking man inside. His father had told him the price for his freedom and he accepted, forcing himself on her until they were both satisfied, and leaving. (66)<br><br>

The husband was not pleased that the tomb they had been excavating had been raided in their sleep. Money and time had been poured into it, more than either of them could afford, even. But still… Her mother was hopeful as the next month passed. Hopeful to make her husband happy. Hopeful to fulfill his hopes for a child to raise. (67)<br><br>

She told her husband she was pregnant with his heir and the man was elated, forgetting his anger and worries… Until Mari was born instead of Maurice. He started being emotionally and sexually abusive to his wife. She had called Mari the miracle child, claiming she was very infertile. He still tried time and again to no avail. That was the truth behind her birth. Behind her parents.  (68)<br><br>

Her mother had taken up the barest of necromancy in an attempt to know how to raise her child, but it did little to prepare her for when the father found out. She was still a freshborn necromancer with barely any power. So was Mari, but her intelligence and power were innate. As she awoke to her power, she learned the truth of her parent who slept in silence, likely finding a new place to rest. (69)<br><br>

She had wanted to test her magic, as sh could feel the change. Her own supply of mana growing wildly beyond her own control. She could feel more than she could handle flowing out and it made her dizzy at times. This was more than she felt like she could use on her own… And it was being made -by- her. It was more than she could process. (70)<br><br>

Trying to allow her mana to flow in and around herself, she shut her eyes and tried to focus on her own self saturation. She was a lightweight. Even as an etherion, her Mana wasn't as attuned to her body as it should have been. Or perhaps the other way around. She wasn't attuned to het mana. Production wise, her mana was perfect for anybody. (71)<br><br>

Her true limiter was her body. Her own damn self. She was still treating the mana as though it were a foreign contaminant that she could apply and use. But that isn't right, at all. She was dark mana, now. She could be a -source- of dark mana. In fact, the only thing actually holding her back was herself. Naturally. Why wouldn't that be the case. (72)<br><br>

That said, she had long since understood and begun the process of attuning herself like she needed to, this whole time. She had delved into her stronger emotions, light and dark, and found her darkness lacking in the past. Now, less so. She was breaking through her own broken heart and mind to where she could understand herself the way she needed to. (73)<br><br>

Margati Dorice had once again begun the actual process of training her body to be tuned to this mana that she now produced, she could already feel the difference. It was… New. Strong. It even brought a smile to her face. She felt a sense of accomplishment as she felt her body's alignment shift to match her mana. Of course it would feel right when done right. (74)<br><br>

The more she ran her new mana, the energy she would share with others, through her body, the more she could tell that it was only natural she would feel this way. It was her. Even if she rejected the eternal rest, the desire to simply find a coffin and just sleep until she was erased by some persistent light bearer, she was sloth. Her descendant was sloth. To reject it outright was wrong. (75)<br><br>

She would embrace herself fully. She wouldn't sleep, but embrace the will that got her this far. Embrace the rest that told her to take a nap when she was tired and needed to rest. Embrace her particular flavor of mana that was born of her true father. Embrace that she wasn't a force of good or evil, but instead of right and wrong. Even if she thought that Konoha laws were wrong at times. (76)<br><br>

Accepting these things about herself made her strong. Against all possibility. She was stronger for what was happening to her body, and the more she accepted it, and attuned herself to her new mana, the more capable she felt. Maybe self acceptance was more important than she gave it credit for. She would have to let this become a personal trait. (77)<br><br>

 had spent a day hearing people call her monster, demon, and other distasteful words… She hated that people were constantly proving that she was wrong for hoping for the beat in others. She has been trying for so long to fight the terrible impression they had of her. Why did people have to prove her wrong for thinking the best of them? (78)<br><br>

She focused on her magical training as the words she heard stuck. And a part of their words wasn't wrong. She was part 'demon', even if she argued the point. She was working on attuning her flesh to her demonic mana, working hard to be aligned to the substance she produced and moulded. This demonic mana was… Upsetting. But not because of any emotions it brought forth. (79)<br><br>

She was a girl, and she always saw herself as human. Maybe a mutated human? But a human. Feeling that this mana was natural, even to the point of acclimating rather quickly disturbed her. Sure it was better for her this way, but the connotations people made for her being like this stung. Perhaps more than most weapons could do now that weapons couldn't actually kill her. (80)<br><br>