<span style="color: #FFFF00">Origin Magic:</span><span style="color: #FF8000">Gaining Power:</span>Unlike Modern Magic, gaining power in Origin magic is not well understood, and there are many clashing theories on the matter. There are basically four schools of thought that are widespread: Training Begets Power, Will Begets Power, Emotions Beget Power and Inborn Power.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">Training Begets Power:</span>Those who subscribe to this believe that one can gain power by constant practice- that simply exploring of your power, gaining understanding of it, and pushing your limits will expand your magical boundaries. In this theory the soul is thought of like a muscle- imbuing each individual spell with as much power as you can is considered akin to strength training, while using your magic until you run dry is thought of as endurance training.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">Will Begets Power:</span>Those who subscribe to this believe that the strength of one's will is the source of an Origin Mages strength. They often believe that the soul's energy is actually unlimited and that the only thing holding a magus back is the mental limitations that they put on themselves. The people most likely to hold this belief are those Origin Mages who already have a lot of power.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">Emotions Beget Power:</span>This theory is based on the link between emotions and the soul, and those who believe it are split into two camps- Some believe that strong emotions sap power from the soul, and that rigorous discipline will expand your power. Others believe that emotions are a source of strength, and that only by fully giving into those emotions can you realize your full potential.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">Inborn Power:</span>The proponents of Inborn Power believe that what you have is what you get- that no effort can actually increase the power you were born with. Most do believe that practicing your magic can help you to realize what your limits are, but they ridicule the notion that you can actually expand those limits.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">Modern Magic:</span><span style="color: #FF8000">Complexity:</span>When casting spells, a Modern Mage is limited by two things: Complexity and Power Consumption. It is relatively rare for a Modern mage to run up against the complexity ceiling, but when they do it is generally because they are attempting to accomplish too many tasks with a single spell. One way to lower the complexity of a spell is to split it into pieces and layering the resulting spells over top of each other- however, doing so will increase the total power consumption.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">Foci:</span>A Focus, singular, or Foci, plural, is a tool used by Modern mages to aide in casting spells. The exact shape and function of a Focus can vary a great deal; magic circles, blasting rods, wands, staffs, amulets, talismans- these are all simply specific terms for kinds of Foci (keep in mind the name does not necessarily denote the shape- an amulet could just as easily be a staff as a pendant). The exact purpose of the different kinds will be discussed in a different entry- for now, we will discuss the classifications: Enchanted and Personal.<br/><br/>An Enchanted Focus is an object designed and created by a mage to fulfill a specific purpose- Enchanted Foci can range from a simple 'extender' (a Focus made to increase the range or accuracy of any magical energy put through it) to a complex 'amminiculum' (a Focus made with an ingrained spell- any energy put into the Focus will result in the ingrained spell to be cast, effectively making it like a shortcut to a spell and removing the necessity to memorize it)<br/><br/>A Personal Focus can be any object that is well known to a specific Mage. Whether magical or mundane, an object that is familiar, especially if it has sentimental value, can reduce the concentration or energy needed to cast a spell. Some Mages have even been able to use objects with great meaning to them as if they were Amminiculum- basically transforming the object into the trigger for the spell instead of a spoken command.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">------------------</div><br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">Hikari:</span><br/>John grins wolfishly, his loping stride easily bringing him level to Hikari. As he runs with Hikari to the stern of the ship he dashes between the sailors, pulling Hikari in a course that disturbed the minimum of people. “I'm an intelligence broker. Knowing things is a habit that comes with the job I'm afraid, and seeing as ignorance cost me a finger and an eye, it's not a habit I'm keen on breaking!"<br/><br/>“And no, teleports<span style="font-style: italic">need</span>the excess energy of a Magically Saturated Zone. I've seen it; without enough magic pressure the energy just bleeds out... This has to be The Circle, or some other huge number of mages working in tandem from an MSA. Maybe they're containing the bleed...” Johnathan pats his pockets with his free hand, pulling out an eyepiece with a cracked lens and a faded Google logo, fitting it over his good eye. He pauses as the tiny computer boots up, staring fixedly at the magic circle in the crowd the whole time.<br/><br/>As Hikari and John reach the stern of the ship, looking out over its wake, John's grin crinkles about his eyes and a look of boyish excitement glints in his gaze. He looks away from the magic circle, brushing a hand through his hair as he looks at Hikari “That's a thirteen layered spell! It's...brilliant! Bloody brilliant!”<br/><br/>He flashes a dazzling smile at Hikari "Let's get a better look, shall we?" With a gesture of his right hand, John twists the air in front of him and Hikari, turning it into an enormous telescopic lens focused on the events unfolding on shore.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;">------------------</div><br/>All:<br/>A woman steps out of the crowd, flashing something at one of the security personnel, who nods, looking grateful. Having cleared a perimeter around the circle, the security personnel draw their weapons, leveling them at the circle. The woman from before raises her right hand into the air, muttering something incomprehensible under her breath and an iridescent bubble forms over the area, guards and all.<br/><br/>Still they expect the circle to implode on itself, even as the ground within seems to drop away into darkness. Even as smoke rises and grey flame sears runes into the surface of the dock. Even as the crown of black hair rises out of the centre they anticipate its close. Apparently oblivious to the laws of mage and men, a figure rises smoothly out of the black disk that the floor of the circle has become, revealing greying hair at the temples, the flesh of the man glowing a bright cherry red as steam billows off of it, his eyes closed tight beneath his furrowed brow.<br/><br/>As the man's shoulders clear the event horizon the circle is filled with a forty foot high swirling pillar of blue flames flecked with gold, brushing at the hair of the man as a strong wind might do, but leaving him unharmed. As the silhouette amongst the obscuring fire rises to waist height it can be seen that the man stands behind a substantially shorter figure, his right hand gripping its right shoulder, beads of molten metal dripping off the pauldron at the man's touch.<br/><br/>Startled by the hiss of molten steel, one of the guards fires his gun- the bullet strikes the edge of the circle and produces a cloud of sparks as it ricochets off an invisible barrier, then lodges in the bubble erected by the woman.<br/><br/>As the guards around the circle shout out at each other to hold their fire, the eyes of the man flash open, their piercing blue glare flickering towards the man who fired before centering on George, still standing on the podium, as he refused to leave the podium at the behest of security.<br/><br/>Finally, slowly, the last few inches of the silhouettes glides upwards through the ground, the black disk brightening back into the wood of the docks and the grey sigils disappear from the air and ground with a sharp<span style="font-style: italic">crack</span>. The pillar of blue flame still burns, twisting and turning, bulging outwards, seemingly testing the air for resistance.<br/><br/>With a rush of air, the flame bunches up and then rushes forth, surging around the guards within the bubble like a herd of some stampeding animal, leaving behind a trail of itself until it has filled the area within the bubble with a towering blue inferno. Then, with a jarring suddenness, the flames swirls about like a whirlpool, coalescing into... a woman. A woman who winks at the reporters around her dressed in black combat fatigues and a flak jacket worked in silver with shoulder length blue hair, who stands behind the man and to his right.<br/><br/>The man is likewise dressed in black, though his clothes are less rugged, built more like a dress uniform than a combat suit, with a silver falcon in flight picked out on his left breast, a grey flame hovers over his right shoulder. He keeps his glowing red hand clamped on the dripping pauldron of the child before him.<br/><br/>The child stands at only half the height of the man. A look of mischievous glee plaster his young face, the boy seemingly unperturbed by his right pauldron being heated to its melting point. He brushes his white cloak absentmindedly away from the heated pauldron, patting at a place where the fabric has begun to smoke, the shifting cloth revealing the silver breastplate emblazoned with a red cross. The belt upon his waist holds a short sword on one hip and a pistol on the other, and he places a gauntletted hand upon the sword's pommel.<br/><br/>All about the docks and ship, from all who see them, a whisper goes round.<br/><br/><span style="font-size: 50%; line-height: 116%;">"The Butcher"</span><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;">"The Azure Pheonix"</span><br/><br/>"The Silver Falcon!"