Given the recent events (joining a team for the first time, talking with people, befriending others and having confrontations with those of higher authority), Spikepitt had disappeared by into the shadows to process things.

It was a big stretch for him to talk to others positively for a change, let alone make friends with them. But for Legion to accuse Spikepitt of the opposite of his intention made him question his ability to work in a team, his original problem before approaching Magneto. 

His allegiance lies with the father of the Brotherhood, his team’s advisor and his team, not many others. It took every fibre in his body not to retaliate to Legion’s inaccurate, aggressive advances. Spikepitt realises his intentions were in the right place, but his directions were misguided and infuriating to the Umbralkinetic. This situation has made him regret ever trying to befriend the young healer … maybe anyone else for that matter. ‘What is the point with interactions anyway, I’ve lived efficiently till now without them.’

Sitting atop one of the many ancient torture relics in his old lair, if you will, the den from which he gained his name, Spikepitt resolved to ask Magneto for advice before it went too much further. He stares into the shadows to find a pathway to Magneto. ’… if he is in his office, this shall have to wai-’ Spikepitt pondered until he found the Mentor walking the corridors of his estate. 

“Excellent…” he mutters to himself, sauntering into the shadow and followed the path to come out in a darkened corner in the wake of Magneto’s evening stroll through his corridors. Standing in the shadows, still concealed for the moment, he hesitates for a second when he feels the many buckles on his jacket jolt, ever so slightly, the piercing in his lip pull away and Magneto slows his pace to a halt, merely tilting his head. ‘He knows I’m here, nows the time.’

“Excuse me, Magneto, may I trouble you for a moment about a … conflicting situation?” Spikepitt steps from the shadows, closing the pathway to his sanctuary, pulling his hood back and composing himself for his next words. “One of your advisors approached me quite … *grits teeth* aggressively about a situation he did not fully grasp. Sir, I need your consult before we cross paths again. I do not want to anger you or disrespect your Brotherhood, but I cannot allow someone, no matter who, to insul-” he takes a deep breathe after seeing the shadows in the room come to life from the consuming frustration welling within him. He composes himself again with a deep breath and the shadows reclaim their places “… what would you have me do, Sir?”

Spikepitt waited for a reply for what felt like the sunlight hours to him. Magneto, because of his dream and ideals, was the only person that the shadowmancer has ever respected, his opinion meant a lot. Finally, he felt the belt buckles loosen and the labrette piercing release it’s pull. Magneto shifted his weight, but moved no more than that. 

The silence was deafening, the anticipation heavy…

Spikepitt did not know how to recreate to Hemlock’s offer, still being shocked at the evolution of the seed her had given her into a fully evolved Peach Blossom tree in under a minute or so.

He stared at the flower, then back to her and back to her to notice a welcoming smile, then back to the flower. He had never been offered anything without an expectation of a return before. 

He took it from her hand and was not sure what to do with it. He stared at it and the tree for a moment and simply clutched it in his hand, the colours of his palm and the flower almost washing together. He feels like he has made his first ever friend.

It was an odd feeling. He then looked at her, still smiling. He tipped his head in silent acknowledgement and smiled, for the first time in a long time without an element of intent behind it. He turned and disappeared into the shadow of a nearby tree. He can only assume Hemlock went back to gardening.

Moments later, the tall tree where Spikepitt had dropped from earlier rained a short burst of Peach Blossom petals from the highest and darkest branches, the petals still cool from their natural habitat.

Spikepitt stayed up there for a while, sitting on a branch and pondered what had just happened. An alien warmth filled him …

… he was happy.

waterhemlock:

I want to talk to Emily the experiment, but I can’t find her ask, help?

<ooc>If you go to her page and go to the URL. At the end type /ask and zimzallabim, there it is. Thats how I got in contact. =] </ooc>

Sifting through years of solitude and no other human contact, other than ‘jobs’ he has taken on for people in the past, Spikepitt sits in the shadiest part at the top of a tall tree near the Brotherhood’s base of command. He looks silently around at the beautiful, bright sunny day, a sight that is normally a bane to his existence. He is finding it hard to get used to being around people, let alone people who would be accepting of him, his mutations and his appearance. He has never been in a situation where people would accept him, so he doesn’t quite know how to react to these people, his teammates. They seem like really nice people, the sort of people he has never had an opportunity to be near for longer than it takes to send them crazy with fear or at worst, end their life. 

In the distance he could see Siren and Athena conversing playfully. The site of humans in happy conversation used to infuriate him, yet seeing this brought out a longing for the same connection he had never felt before.

He looked below and just a couple of meters away was Hemlock, working persistently on her weeding or gardening or planting … he couldnt quite tell from where he was. But it did intrigue Spikepitt. He felt bad about his introduction as she seemed like a pleasant girl, but he knew no other way to interact with people, ’…yet’ he thought, optimistically. The fear he induced in so many humans before he believed was nothing compared to the nerves he was feeling at the thought of making proper human connections, because apparently that’s what teamwork is about. The garden she was creating in front of his very eyes was much more beautiful then the Japanese garden he’d just come from after a visit to another Brotherhood sibling.

This brought him to realise the impact he must have had on Shaman, his youngest teammate. He must have intimidated her even without the use of his fear inducement mutation. The realisation that he must modify his approach to his teammates sweeps across him like the blanket of night at dusk. 

Some time passes and he inspects his hands and arms in despair, as his pale skin is revealing his blackened veins with every manipulation of the Umbra. An aesthetic result of his ability that has made him grow fond of the shadows he calls home. He wonders if anyone of his teammates can look at him the way Siren and Athena interact and now seeing who he thinks is Charm now talking to Hemlock. 

There’s only two Siblings he’s felt a good connection with so far. Without an ounce of fear, Dazzler approached him yesterday in one of the only moments he wasn’t in hiding in the shadows. This meeting took him by surprise as that smile and that hair made him forget who he was for a second. He responded as best he could, yet still escaped into the shadows as soon as he had the chance, uncertain of the right way to act. 

The other was Wight, the man he’d seen through the shadows before, another Umbralkinetic, however, he calls it ‘Darkness Manipulator’. ‘You can’t forget a man with only a skull atop his shoulders,’ Spikepitt thought amusingly. ‘If anyone can understand … this …’ gazing back at the pulsing back veins ‘… it’d be Wight.’

At that moment, Spikepitt felt the shadow’s behind him ripple, a feeling he’d only ever felt when he’d done it. He turned, interested and hoping it was who he thought it was. He’d left a ‘window’ open earlier for Wight to come through if he took the offer … and it appeared as though he had. Hallowhead, Wight’s Brotherhood name, was stepping through the window Spikepitt had left opened for him, but it was one thing to step in (if you can that is) and to know where you are are going. Spikepitt thought he’d left the fellow Umbralkinetic try it alone, to see his capacity. Spikepitt had been doing this since he was 9, he wasn’t sure of Wight’s capabilities.

“Wight, it is good to see you’ve made the choice.” Spikepitt said with the same glee as when he finishes a ‘job’ from his former life. “Have you done this before? If not, just follow my voice and see where it takes you… That’s it, don’t rush it or you could end up on the dark side of the moon …” Spikepitt, waits eagerly for a response, for some one to join him on his tree top branch or for his to spring to Umbral-rescue…

<OOC> This is fun!!! My first RP blog. But I am tired now! Nite!</ooc>