"…Fine," Handy said, standing up with a sigh and looking down at his audience, his hammer clinking against his belt and side pack. Three points of light lit the room, two green and one golden, from the points of their horns. He grimaced as he focused on each pair of eyes, in turn closing his own to steady his nerves. This, if experience had taught him anything, was going to hurt like a bitch. He had an image in his mind, a rough one but it would have to do. He had a desire; he had to make himself want it. He could figure out the hows and whys of how his vampiric magic worked later. It wasn't just the intent, wasn't just the desire to be seen as what he wanted, but specifically that he didn't want to be seen. Something else had to take his place when others looked at him. Perhaps not wearing his armour would be a boon in hindsight, but there was only one way to tell. He opened his eyes.