Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20170811001656/@comment-5583506-20170812020612

"I am fine, Gabryel", the half-breed said. "You should worry more about yourself. You were pretty much in the midst of it."



There didn't seem to be any indication of exactly just how the prisoners had escaped. Drac would be able to deduce however that the concentrated fire had been launched from the eastern side of the old castle, burning away the wall section behind the cells. Still it seemed as if the attack had only been done with the purpose of releasing Wormking and Half-Troll. It was more uncertain whether or not the Musician and Shadowcat was included in this plan, whatever plan there was.



Preacher walked up to the Mold's cell, flinching when he saw that the villain was still behind bars.

The old grey-haired man looked up at him from a game of chess, as if he had been expecting him. "Welcome back, Preacher. It has been... what is it?" The Mold did a count on his fingers. "Ten years, am I right? How's life treating you?"

Preacher didn't understand what was going on. Wasn't this a part of the Mold's scheme? Was it just an unfortunate coincedence that four super villains were on the loose ten years after the promise the worst of the lot had made him? No, it couldn't be. This was a case foul play, if anything. But if that truly was the case, then why was the Mold still behind bars?

"You knew this was going to happen", Preacher wheezed, resisting the urge to just barge into the Mold's cell and beat an answer out of him. "Didn't you?"

"I thought I told you so ten years ago?" the Mold shrugged, providing him a wet smile. "Either way." He gestured to the chessboard. "Care for a game of chess?"

"Fuck your game, Mold!" Preacher exclaimed. "What have you done?! What are you up to?!"

The Mold shook his head. "Tsk. Tsk. You give up too easily, Preacher. Which is the reason why I still have you all in check. Should probably just give your position to some other bloke. What was that werewolf's-what's-his-face name? Bait? Gait?"

Preacher had heard enough of the shapeshifter's mockery, turning to a guard. "Open this cell."

"Sir, I..."

"Do as I say", Preacher commanded, making it clear that there could be no arguments.

The guard hesitated but eventually gave in, unlocking the double set cell doors with the many variations of keys. Once inside, Preacher approached the prisoner sitting in the chair and slammed the chessboard to the side, causing all the pieces to fly all over the cell.

"Enough with the fucking games, you monster. What have you done?!"

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The Mold pouted with his lips. "I was playing that..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher grabbed the old man by the collar harshly. "SPEAK."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The Mold smirked. "You want answers? I am afraid I have none. I have been sitting here for ten years, my dear Preacher, playing chess. Gotten rather good at it. Haven't move a muscle since."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher sharpened his gaze. "Why should I trust that you had nothing to do with this? How can I be assured that you are indeed the Mold and not just some decoy?"

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"You need proof?" the Mold smirked. "Well, you know what I need..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher hesitated for but a brief moment, considering the repercussions this action could have. He turned to the guard standing by the cell door. "Keep a close eye on the both of us." Preacher reluctantly held out his arm and held up his sleeve. "Prove it, you bastard."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"Charming as always", the Mold smiled, touching Preacher's arm whereupon physical contact was made.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher had never seen the Mold's power at work before, but he was somewhat startled to see how the old man before his eyes seemed to disapparate and be replaced with features similar to that of his own. Within the moment of a mere second, the old man was completely gone and instead he looked upon a reflection of himself. Hadn't it been for their different clothing, no one would've been able to tell them apart.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"See?" the Mold smiled cruelly. "I am still here. No need to worry, Preacher. I won't be going anywhere."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher backed away slowly. He was confused. He couldn't make the pieces fall into place. This was the Mold's doing. There was no doubt about it. But how? And more importantly why? Why not release himself when he had the chance? The prison's state of awareness would now increase after this breakout, making it harder for future attempts. So what was the point in letting four villains escape, if he would remain behind bars?

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"How..." Preacher murmured. "How are you...?"

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"Hm?" the Mold shrugged and began to pick up the pieces of the chessboard, setting it up again based on memory. "Oh, it's simple. I will just place all the pieces back the way they were and I'll..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"That's not what I meant."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"I know it wasn't, I just don't feel like answering."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher began to become frustrated. He didn't like feeling helpless in knowing that whatever the Mold had gotten away with thousands of civilians would more than likely die, perhaps even fellow heroes he had gotten to know. Perhaps even the graduates?

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"I will give you this much though, Preacher", the Mold snickered. "Seeing as it is no fun to compete against an opponent who has already given up, I will give you this slight handicap."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher watched his own mirror image set the pieces back up the way they were. It was rather bizarre and at the same time incredible. For a moment he felt like doing any gesture just to see if the reflection would do the same, knowing that it wouldn't. It was its own living entity. The entity known as the Mold.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"Whenever I take on the shape of another person, I retain my own gift, but also gain theirs. However, when I take on a new shape, I lose the latter in favor of a new one."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher didn't see how this could be of any help, but decided to put the information in store.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"See?" the Mold smirked, using Preacher's appearance. It was rather uncanny to watch. Like an evil twin. "If I wanted to right now, Preacher, I could make use of your power to break out of here and..."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher shot open his eyes, just now coming into realisation what the Mold was capable of. "Get some reinforced shackles over here this very instant", he ordered the guard.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The guard did as instructed and arrived in short with a small group of reinforcement, having sensed Preacher's desperation.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The Mold pouted. "You scare too easily, Preacher. I have told you before that I have no intention of escaping. Why would I need to do that? You are all still in check. And you've yet to make a reasonable move."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"I will make a reasonable move once I know just what you are up to, scum", Preacher replied harshly, giving the guards a firm nod to tighten the security in the Mold's cell.

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The Mold laughed. "You are scared. I can feel it. It's okay, Preacher. Just goes to show that you are more human than some others I know of." He smiled. "Like me."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher however didn't smile. He had been taught not to encourage maniacs. "If I find out just what you are up to, no guild rules will be able to save you from me, Mold. You hear me? I will kill you myself. Should've probably done so years ago. By doing that I might have saved thousands of innocent lives."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">"Sooo melodramatic", the Mold scoffed as the links on his chains were tightened by the guard crew. "This is why no one likes your petty guild, Preacher. You just like to make up your own rules and punish those in the world who do not follow them, claiming that you are in the right all the while."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher gave into his inner desire and launched a clenched fist at the Mold's jaw. It felt oddly enough good to punch a version of himself. "I didn't make the rules, but I sure as hell will gladly break them when I learn of your plan, monster."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The Mold spat some blood to the side, but he never stopped smiling. "Gave into some temptation there, did you? I expected nothing less from the Heroes' Guild. Breeding hypocrites has always been your forte. Did you choose the name Preacher for yourself to hide the fact that you might be the biggest sinner of them all?"

<p style="font-weight:normal;">Preacher didn't answer the Mold's question and instead just turned his back on the maniac. "I want as many men as you can spare to guard his cell day and night. If anyone with my appearance just happens to be strolling around Volkihar Prison without you having been notified of my arrival; kill them."

<p style="font-weight:normal;">The guards nodded. "Yes, sir."