Evariste Wolvord

Evariste's plan worked perfectly—except that it didn't.

As he sailed forward, well beyond the figure's knees, Evariste raced through possibilities, searching for an explanation. He was aimed just right; the person hadn't dodged or darted upwards. No, Ev had passed straight through the thing's legs, yet another mystery for the tally. Apparently it wasn't a physical construct. It must be a projection or an illusion of some kind, a specialized hallucination. And a good one. He had been completely fooled, dodging the thing's "attacks" as if they could hurt him. What a waste of energy.

Now Ev was annoyed. He was fighting something incorporeal, something incapable of being harmed. The whole charade was completely needless, and in fact pointless. A waste of time, it was, too, and embarrassing, and he was still hurtling forward, but also down, towards the dirty, unforgiving ground. He couldn't do anything to change what had already happened, but he could, at least, stop himself from the seemingly-certain, seemingly-imminent impact.

A brief burst of focus and Evariste's fall slowed and stopped, allowing him, with a couple of stumbling steps, to regain his footing and then his balance. Standing again, he spun quickly on his heel so he could see his opponent. It was an automatic response—never, he could hear his father counseling him, never turn your back—not something he really necessary, he figured, given that his foe wasn't even real.

Once he could see the figure again, though, Ev's certainty flickered. The thing had a whip now, and it was cracking towards Evariste, clearly long enough to reach him despite the extra distance now between them. As much as he thought the figure and, by extension, the new weapon, couldn't hurt him, his reflexes still saw them as threats, and responded accordingly.

With a smooth sweep of his hand, Evariste brought his will to bear on forcing the whip on a downward path. His hand still in motion, he began curling his fingers. There was a large rock just a few feet away, perfect for wrapping the whip. It should render the weapon useless for a while—Evariste's skillful blend of telekinesis and gravity manipulation meant the whip would be attached thoroughly, and thus difficult and time-consuming to unwind.

His next move in progress, Evariste indulged in a moment of reflection on his newfound doubts about the nature of his opponent. He wondered why the thing should bother with a charade of a whip at this point. If it was intangible, it had already revealed itself to be so, and it had no need to continue scaring and harassing him with trumped up weapons. So, he concluded, it must be real after all. In which case it was a formidable fighter, not human as Ev knew humanity, and apparently able to selectively cease to exist in the physical world.

As Ev considered, he realized, then, that binding the thing's whip would not hold it for long. No physical attack would really work against it, since it could apparently just choose not to be affected by them. It was confident in its ability to hurt him, though, which meant Evariste would have to keep fighting, but find a better way to do it.

__________________