How Far We've Fallen (SSoDI-N)

[ParamountKeymaster]

Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic.

Well, at least Loba had a nice collection of novels...

Mic had been keeping himself occupied with Dune, the thick tome resting in his lap as he sat on the bed of the spare room Loba had locked him inside, heedless of the passage of time. There wasn't a whole lot he could do at this given moment. One wrong move and he would lose what little trust he had gained. He had to get close to Paul, but he had to maintain this image of innocence if he was going to stay there. It was a difficult line to walk, figuring out how to actively befriend the dragon man while remaining passive enough not to alert his allies.

Of course, part of Mic knew that sitting here alone in this room wasn't doing him any favors. It was keeping the wary eyes off him, sure, but he didn't feel like any progress had been made with Paul. He didn't expect trust to come immediately –he wasn't that naïve– but he also hadn't expected such a harsh greeting. He might not have been in any pain, but he could still recall the sensation of being kicked while he was down pretty vividly, and it served to send him a clear message that these people saw only Paradiso's actions and not his own.

A heavy sigh escaped Mic's throat as he leaned on his knee and looked away from his book, instead staring at his hand. His green hand. Something about the tone made him feel that much more disgusted with himself. He wished he still had his sketchbook or a device to tinker with. He loved to read, but it didn't distract him quite as well. Then again, maybe he couldn't distract himself with this book because the protagonist shared a name with the man he was trying to cotton to.

What was he even doing here? Sure, he was here to gain Paul's trust as per Liderc's orders, but why was he here? Mic was an inventor, not an infiltrator. More importantly, he didn't want to do this. The idea of luring someone to their death made him feel irrevocably dirty, especially someone so interesting and kind. What would the world be losing if Liderc succeeded? What would at angels lose if he failed? Mic didn't have an answer for either of those questions. All he knew was that he wanted to see Paul again, but he didn't want to go through with his original plan.

He tossed the book to the foot of the bed, flopped back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. Maybe he should come clean about why he was there. If he did, though, would it only worsen the hostility being directed at him? It would definitely compromise his standing with Paradiso if he did, and he still found it morally unbearable to abandon them completely. Oh, how he envied Paul Atreides. How he wished he could see through time and find a future with the least bloodshed.

Actually... speaking of Dune, it slowly occurred to Mic that he never felt the mattress jolt from the four hundred page book landing atop it. When he cocked his head to the side, he found the novel hovering in the open air just a few inches above the bed.

"Mic."

"MUAD'DIB!" Mic squawked, scrambling upright and casting a startled glance at his sudden visitor.

Mysterion stared back at Mic, unperturbed by the angel's volume or current color. He had more important matters to see to. "What're you doing here? Change of plans?"

"Uh..." It took a few seconds for Mic to comprehend the question he was just asked. He looked down at the book again, then quickly checked the clock, instantly reaching the logical conclusion that time had been temporarily frozen. It was just him and the human boy in the hooded cape in this timeless pocket.

But what was he supposed to say? The truth? He couldn't put it past Mysterion to react with the same anger that Paul's friends had. And likely would have if they knew the whole story.

"Spontaneous, but yes. The commander ordered me to... integrate with Paul's team."

Mysterion raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were making headway with that disguising yourself as my civilian identity."

"Well, for research purposes, I was, but this is... something... different." Mic rubbed his neck and stared awkwardly at Mysterion. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why exactly did you let me do that again?"

"Because you need to get close to Paul. Because through this acquaintanceship, both of you will naturally wind up exactly where you need to be to ensure this timeline doesn't completely collapse in on itself."

"Well, okay, but... you know that Liderc intends to kill Paul, right? I-I don't want that to happen! I'm sure you don't want that to happen, and I know Kelsey doesn't want it to happen! She would throttle me if she knew I was in on the scheme and I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP IT AND KEEP EVERYONE HAPPY!"

"Mic..." Mysterion jumped up onto the bed, down on one knee, his expression firm, serious, but warm. "You can't make everyone happy. You can only do what you believe is right. And the fact that you want my friend to live tells me that you're already on the right track."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Mic desperately asked the boy. "You say I'm supposed to get close to him, but how do I do that without putting him in danger?"

"You can't. That's the price of war. But this is what he's learning wind magic for, isn't it?"

Mic sniffled a little and cast a somber frown at the floor. "Am I gonna betray my people?"

"If I tell you what happens, it won't happen." Mysterion placed a hand on the angel's arm. "But I can tell you this much. When the time comes, the role you play will make all the difference."

"If you say so..." Mic offered a glum little shrug before turning back to Mysterion. "So do you have any advice for my current predicament?"

"Paul's right outside the door," Mysterion answered, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Once Kendall unfreezes time, you'll figure it out."

Mic straightened up upon hearing this news, his eyes flicking between Mysterion and the door.

"But I need to tell you one thing before I go."

"Huh?" Mic only barely seemed to hear him as his mind began to race, listing probable conversations he might have with Paul the moment he stepped inside.

"I don't exactly know why yet, but by tonight, Paul and a few of his friends will wind up in the desert. When that happens, you need to go with them. Someone will be waiting for you there when you do."

"Paul... Desert..." Mic had all but spaced out by then. One had to wonder if he was still thinking about the dragon man or the Kwisatz Haderach. Or both simultaneously.

Mysterion sighed and shook his head. "Don't hurt yourself, birdbrain. We still need you. Anyway, I gotta go talk to Kelsey. We'll meet again soon."

And then, right when Mic apparently snapped back to reality, Mysterion disappeared. The stillness in the atmosphere seemed to relax. The novel plopped onto the bed.

There came a knock on the door.

"Hi, uh... Minokawa, right? Can I come in?"

Mic went rigid again as that familiar voice struck his hearing ducts. Even though he had been warned that Paul was coming, he was somehow still blindsided by the request. So much so that it took him a good ten seconds to stop fretting about why Paul was here and what either of them would say. "Y-Yeah, sure, come on in!"

The door slowly swung open, making way for Paul to casually step inside. Immediately obvious was the fact that he was holding a water bottle in each hand, one of them already partially drained. "I... thought you might want a drink."

"O-Oh..." Once again, Mic was caught off guard by the gesture, but otherwise found himself unconsciously accepting it. "Thank you."

"No problem." After looking around for a moment, Paul claimed a chair in the corner, pausing to settle in and take a drink. Then he took a deep breath and looked to the angel. "Listen, I just... wanted to apologize on behalf of my friends. Tensions may be high, and I'm sure you at least understand why they feel the way they feel about your people, but that was still no excuse to make it personal. Especially since you weren't being actively hostile."

"Well... um..." Mic's cheeks flushed slightly, prompting him to crack open the bottle and guzzle down a few mouthfuls of water as if to quell the heat. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome." Paul offered a cool but tender smile, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his legs. "I'll try to keep the others in check. Keep them from being too harsh on you. Y'know... until you turn on us."

Mic responded with a weak chuckle, given that the quip was clearly intended as a joke. Then he bashfully grimaced at the wall and ran a hand through his hair. "I hope I didn't upset whatever order you fellows had established."

Paul couldn't help but snicker at the mere suggestion. What order? "It's fine. Everyone seems to be going about their business regardless. Just take care of yourself. Don't worry about what any of these guys think. We're all a little rough around the edges, but with the right incentive, I'm sure they'll come around eventually."

For one brief moment, Mic simply stared at Paul, unsure how to feel about his advice. It wasn't often that people told him to consider his own wellbeing. Usually he was more focused on pleasing others. Compassion seemed like such an alien concept.

"I know your commander wants to kill me," Paul eventually stated, breaking the silence, his expression solemn. "I don't know what your stance may be on that, but... I have every intention of fighting back. I'd like it if defense was all I had to worry about, but knowing my friends, things getting messy is likely inevitable. So I apologize in advance for whatever may happen to your fellow angels, be it due to my friends' actions or my refusal to die."

Mic's vacant stare turned sad. He sunk lower into the bed and offered Paul a shrug. "I understand. I appreciate the thought, really. You're a nice guy, Paul. I... I don't want you to die."

The tiniest of smiles crossed Paul's face. "Well, thanks. I mean that. Anyway, I probably shouldn't keep Lobo waiting any longer. Gotta get back to training."

"Okay." Mic nodded as Paul stood back up and started making his way out the door. He wanted so badly to keep the conversation going, but to his utter bafflement, he couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't feel anxious and discombobulated anymore. The tangled web of questions in his head had vanished altogether. His mind had virtually gone blank, a feeling he absolutely was not used to. It was unsettling, but... peaceful.

"Oh..." Paul suddenly added, stopping in the open doorway. "And one other thing?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"You can drop the Prasino color scheme, Mic. I won't let them hassle you about that either." A smirk, a wink, and then Paul disappeared into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

And there was the anxiety again.

Mic flopped down onto the bed, wings spread to full length, eyes wide, jaw slacked, brain unable to comprehend what just happened. "Check, please..."

---------------------------



"Alright, so..." Paul paced in a circle, briefly inspecting his newfound training grounds before looking back at Lobo over his shoulder. Whatever he had discussed with the angel captive seemed worlds behind him. He was ready and willing, even eager to become one with the wind again. It just seemed appropriate to seek a change in locale first to avoid unwanted attention. "You sure this is secluded enough?"

[DanteMGalileo]

"Yeah, we're safe here. Basements like this'll hide ya from most things, and keep ya safe from most." After confirming that they were out of sight and the basement door was closed, Lobo turned on a lamp he had brought. Okay, good, now he could see again. "Just don't hide in here from zombies. As it turns out, they're very good at the going downstairs thing, ie falling down."

Well, no use delaying the lesson. Might as well make Paul a bit more useful. "Alright, you seemed to have gotten the basic idea of wind back at the club, so I'm not gonna repeat myself. Now, there's a distinction between merely harnessing an element but otherwise leavin' it as a wild animal, and channeling it as an actual spell." Inhaling and closing his eyes, the winds around Lobo picked up slightly, before forming into a small, concentrated gust.

"... That's the most basic thing you can make wind do. Everybody with even the mildest affinity towards wind can cast that spell. That's Breezy Day."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"If you say so," Paul plainly stated, casting one last glance up the basement stairs of this abandoned house. He didn't bother questioning how Lobo had stumbled upon this decrepit abode. The details didn't matter much to him as long as it kept him sheltered from the angel's psychotic brother.

With a deep breath, donning a casual smile, Paul walked over to where Lobo had lit the lamp and listened intently to the intro to his next lesson. He swayed from foot to foot as he excitedly watched the angel cast a simple wind spell, taking a moment to simply feel the breeze, the ebb and flow of the current, the subtle movements of Lobo's hands. Then he tried his best to forget all those minute details. Instinct had to kick in somehow.

"Alright..." Paul massaged his wrist and nodded to Lobo. "So what's the distinction? And how do I not think too hard about it?"

[DanteMGalileo]

"The distinction... Hang on. I've got somethin' that'll demonstrate the distinction."

Inhaling, Lobo cupped his hands together, then cast them out, wind blowing out from between his fingers. The wind took on the form of a wolf-like creature. "This is merely harnessin' it but otherwise leavin' it a wild animal. It's a wolf that was trained to do some tasks, provided it feels like it." Finger snap. "Okay, boy, run." Nothing. "I said run." Still nothing, although the wind-wolf did make a growling sound. "Run, damn you!" At last, the wolf ran towards an empty cabinet, dispersing into wind and slamming into it, the cabinet falling over, broken.

"See? Powerful. But it won't always do what ya tell it. Now, this is channeling..." Repeating his earlier hand gesture, a dog made of wind formed, standing at the ready. "Okay, boy, run." This time, the wind-dog ran at once, slamming into another cabinet and dispersing just before contact. While not as hard-hitting as the wolf, the impact still seemed powerful. "It's trained. It won't be as powerful as the wild animal, but it'll actually respond to your commands. As for how to not think too hard... Fire and forget. It's the homing missile of the elements for a reason. Don't get too hung up on the small details."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Hmm..." Paul observed the phenomenon with intense curiosity, his bright golden eyes brimming with intrigue. While it was an interesting dichotomy and he understood it fairly well, he wasn't entirely sure if it had adequately answered his question. What exactly was the difference between simply harnessing the wind and outright commanding it?

But then again, he did just ask for simplicity. It was probably for the best that Lobo didn't go into extensive details. He would just have to trust himself to figure it out like last time.

After shaking off that train of thought, Paul took another deep breath and took on a tall but loose stance. "Okay then. Suppose I gotta start somewhere."

He raised his hand and closed his eyes, surrendering to the chaotic, arrhythmic storm within. Almost immediately, he felt the winds rise up, flowing from his arm, surrounding his form, dancing along his scales. It felt as natural as breathing, and yet its outward force seemed to peak early, lingering in this whirlwind around the dragon man.

Paul tried to feel it through. He could sense that this was only a fraction of his power, but the remainder wasn't coming to him so easily. He could only keep his mind blank for so long.

Alright, so he had the breeze. What now?

Just like that, the winds settled down, the storm gently spiraling inward again. "Ah, dammit..."

[DanteMGalileo]

Ah.

"I think I know what yer problem is," Lobo said, walking up to Paul. "You're a guy that thinks on stuff a lot. Normally, that'd be a good thing, and if you were light or shadow, it'd be amazing, but yer wind." Not trying to be mean, just trying to help. "Most people that can control multiple elements usually end up picking fire or water as their main element. You can't really over- or underthink those two."

He offered the dragon man a gentle smile. "It's hard. Even angels like me with a natural wind affinity have a hard time with it at first. It ain't easy to clear your mind when everything's chaos and people on both sides are droppin' like flies..." At that, a faint yellow colour filled the angel's cheeks and his eyes widened as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth. "I should not have said that..."

A long scar was faintly visible up Lobo's left arm.

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Yeah, I got that..." Paul sighed, kicking his foot around. "What can I say? I'm an engineer. It helps me to consider minute details. But so much of this learning process has been instinctual, and part of me can't help but think that spellcasting is more complicated than that. And even if it is that simple, I... I'm not really a commanding kind of guy."

He looked down at his hand, lightly swirling his fingers, the breeze gently twisting around them. Then he turned to Lobo. He understood what the angel was getting at, and his phrasing didn't bother Paul a great deal, but Lobo's reaction to his own words did catch his attention, more on account of empathy than curiosity. Up until now, he hadn't noticed that scar. His own hand rubbed his shoulder with little mental input, massaging some deep-seated phantom pain.

Paul was not one to pry. He had always been of the mindset that there was a time for contemplation and a time for confession, and until the latter came, as long as no one was acting irrationally or in imminent danger, whatever issues someone else was facing were none of his business. He didn't want to open old wounds, especially considering the circumstances, but maybe having something else to focus on would help. Maybe what he needed was motivation.

"Talk to me..." Paul once again closed his eyes, raised his arm and started stirring up the air, though it was obvious he was still listening intently to Lobo. "How... How long have you and Loba been here?"

[DanteMGalileo]

"... I suppose you deserve to know the truth." Lobo averted his gaze from Paul, suddenly being very interested in a wall. Hey, there's not as much dust as he expected there to be. Sigh. "Just... promise me you won't judge me too much 'bout what I'm gonna tell ya."



"... Loba an' I... we've been here for thousands of years on and off. We found the portal on Purgatorio long before that human did." Exhaling, Lobo created two figures out of wind, resembling himself and his sister. "We decided to make the Nexus our permanent home 'bout a hundred an' fifty years ago. We spent a decade or so explorin' all the nooks and crannies before we decided to open a bar. That was fifty years ago. We've survived several stories that were declared non-canon and aborted. We've been retconned several times to this form." The angel's form collapsed into wind, quickly materializing into smaller, younger appearances in quick succession, before returning to his usual form.

"... I... I was... I was..." Lobo put a hand over his face, a tear falling from his eye, translucent white against his yellow-grey skin. "... I was once part of the Paradiso army. All angels of my type are drafted for life and aren't allowed to return home until we conquer at least ten planets." Sniffle. He moved his hand slightly, eye slightly bloodshot yellow. "... I was a proud soldier of the Paradiso empire. At least, until I saw what we exactly did."

He fell to his knees, quietly weeping. "I... I c-couldn't take it. They were living creatures with a complex society, just like us. I'm sorry! I couldn't do it anymore!" And now Lobo was shaking. "I ran. My s-superior... He gave me that scar when I fled. Loba and I ran to the one planet Paradiso failed to conquer. Earth. We were safe there..."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"I promise," Paul replied, eyes still closed, ears still open to Lobo's words, hand spinning at the wrist in slow circles, the breeze curling around him in sync.

Hearing Lobo explain where he and his sister came from clearly affected Paul, as his simple expression became more and more strained with empathy. The angels' ages weren't especially surprising, but it was a bit hard for Paul to fathom being on the island that long. Talks of canon and abandoned stories were confusing to say the least, but that was a can of worms he was happy to leave sealed.

Then came the things that Lobo did prior to the move. The emotions in his voice turned heavy, weighing on Paul's hearts both real and imaginary. To hear that Lobo had been a soldier honestly wasn't that startling a revelation, but the mere thought of what he had to go through, the things he had to see, the pain he suffered at the hands of his own people... Paul couldn't begin to fathom it. He didn't want to. But he could certainly comprehend the psychological impact, and it seemed to be taking its toll on him in turn.

Paul gritted his teeth and clenched his hand, thinking only about what this must have been like from Lobo's perspective. Seeing the island under attack, with all of the atrocities he witnessed the angels commit still fresh in his mind, caught between genuine friends and a psychotic brother... Paul felt for him, but he knew that he would never fully understand it all. And where he lacked the ability to place himself in Lobo's position, he felt only anger and a drive to never let what happened before happen again.

The winds kicked up with a deafening roar, turning hazy as they encompassed Paul. His hair and clothes flapped wildly in the cyclone, yet the dragon man stood at the eye of the storm with a calm, tranquil fury. Within this storm, he felt... safe. Defended, as well as defensive.

He opened his eyes, immediately looking to Lobo with a deep sadness. With a wave of his hand and a simple mental command, the storm dissipated, giving him leeway to walk up to the angel and sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry." Paul tilted his head, gazing at Lobo with nothing short of sincerity. "I can't imagine being entangled in that for so long. Having so little will over your own life... I don't blame you for what you did. I get it. I try not to judge people on where they've been. Only where they are now."

[DanteMGalileo]

"It... it ain't your fault," Lobo said with a sniffle. "You didn't make me. You didn't make me hatch in a society where the only true freedom was the one to fight and die for an uncaring regime." His voice was uncharacteristically low. "Sorry you had t' hear all that. Heh... it's pathetic, ain't it? I'm well past nine thousand years divorced from all of that, and yet I can still hear the screams, smell the burning, and see the suffering." Low, sarcastic chuckle.

The angel slowly got to his feet, wiping his eyes. "But I ain't gonna run this time. I'm gonna fight 'em. And if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna take as many of those bastards down with me as I can." Lobo clenched a fist, static building up along his arm. "Maybe my dad left me some real power. Sure, I've never had much need to use it after... that..." He shuddered a bit. "But maybe I can use these damn abilities to protect. To defend instead of attack. Just... promise me his, man..." He turned to Paul with a serious expression.

"If I die, keep Loba safe. I have this naggin' feelin' in my gut that she's gonna be more useful than me or a lot of us in the long run. It's that song of her's that's got a magical property to it... Just... don't go blabbin' about it. 'Specially not now."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"I-It's fine, man..." Paul swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm not bothered to hear it. But I understand. There are some things too terrible to forget."

He stood up at the same time Lobo did, staring down at the angel with utmost respect and compassion. He silently nodded, completely on board with everything being conveyed to him. Fighting back in spite of the odds, honing their powers to protect their friends, and then...

Hearing Lobo bring up Loba, hearing him ask Paul to look after her if worst came to worst... Paul didn't want to imagine that a scenario like that would arise, but regardless of what happened to his angel mentor, he had every intention of protecting her along with everyone else who had been wronged by Paradiso. He recalled her song, the one that settled Percy down after he first transformed into the beast, and that alone proved its worth to Paul. But more so than the song, he just felt inclined to keep Loba safe. He cared about these two. Why wouldn't he?

"Of course." Paul offered Lobo a fist pound. "My lips are sealed. You can count on me."

He then looked down at his hand with a small grin, thinking back to the storm he had just started through will alone. "And hey... I think we're on the right track. I... I think I know now what fuels my power. With any luck, maybe both of us will come out stronger here today."

[DanteMGalileo]

"... Thanks, man," Lobo said in response. At least he knew Loba had one more protector now. Had Paradiso known she was still alive, that someone could still sing her song... Had Paradiso known... they'd have nabbed her instantly and would've made her sing the Canticle of Ruin, both as a weapon and a punishment...

"Anyways. I feel better now that I've got that off my chest. Thanks again, man." Wow, he felt a lot lighter now. "So, you found your fuel, eh? I'm guessin' a desire to protect others, yeah? I can see that. You're the type of guy who'd rather be the shield than the sword." A notion he shared, even if that wasn't the source of his powers.

"So, let's try that Breezy Day again, shall we? Time's tickin', yeah?"

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Anytime, buddy," Paul hummed, giving Lobo a warm pat on the arm. His smile widened slightly and a faint light shined in his yellow eyes as Lobo stated his view on Paul's newfound motivation. Honestly, fitting as it was, Paul wasn't sure if he would have described it that way. To him, it didn't quite feel like a leaning towards defense more than offense. Rather, it was more a matter of focusing less on what he wanted the wind to do or even what the wind should do, but on what he himself wanted even more than that. And right now, what he wanted was to lift his friend's spirit.

He didn't feel inclined to share this aloud, though. Instead, Paul clapped his hands together, took a deep breath, and nodded back at Lobo. "Yeah. Let's see what kind of damage we can do now."

---------------------------

Credit where it was due: once he found his groove, Paul was an impeccably fast learner.

In his usual loose stance, eyes narrowed in bright white slits, storm thundering inside, Paul raised his hand and swiped two fingers across the open air. He repeated this action many times in rapid succession, his arm zigzagging this way and that, the air around him growing frantic and directionless. Then he reeled back and thrust his arm forward with his palm out, pushing the wind blades away, each one flying out in wide arcs and boomeranging wildly around the room. Some of them collided with the various boxes and discarded knickknacks propped up as targets, while those without obstacles to his simply dissipated shortly thereafter.

Paul shook himself off and blew a lock of hair out of his face, his glowing eyes dimming back to their usual appearance. "Okay, I can't help feeling like I did something wrong there. H-How was that?"

[DanteMGalileo]

"Everyone feels like they're doin' it wrong to start," Lobo said in response, pushing his hair back into place in the front. "But you're doin' it right. Took me forever t' get up to Anemoi, and I've been purposefully holdin' myself back for quite a long time. Looks like you got quite a few of the other things down, too." He patted the dragon man's shoulder with a genuine smile. "Yer a fast learner, Paul."

He got it. He understood. Paul might even get this particular spell on the first go. "Y'know lightning, thunder, electricity, whatever ya wanna call it... That's a subtype of wind magic." He hadn't forgotten the lightning breath stunt. "Most angels who can use wind usually can't cast it because well, like I said, we have an electricity weakness, which is why I suspect Paradiso took out the power." Lobo gave an involuntary shudder. "It's also why Aello Sidhe, the wind councilangel when I was a soldier and my former boss, is feared even by his own court except maybe his personal robotic assistant." He clenched a fist, hair going up in static slightly...

Whipping around, Lobo made a motion as if throwing a javelin, instead tossing out a small, slightly green thunderbolt, the bolt crashing into a wall, sparking and scorching upon impact. "... I've got some electrical powers, but compared to what you've got the potential for, it's pretty small potatoes. The spell... It's called Thunderclouds. You get hit while charging or just after you cast it, your attacker gets fried."

[ParamountKeymaster]

"Heh... Thanks..." Paul mumbled, rubbing the back of his head with a dorky grin. The amount of progress he was making felt strange. Not that that was a bad thing, but still, he was surprising himself with just how natural this felt.

"Oh! Right!" Paul excitedly clasped his hands together the moment Lobo mentioned lightning, the primary reason he had gotten into wind magic in the first place. Now that the subject had been broached, he was eager to really test his grit on an element that was more and more starting to feel as much a part of him as blood. He did offer a lopsided, sympathetic smirk as Lobo described this Aello fellow, clearly understanding the angel's reservations, but seeing Lobo display his electrical capabilities, even if they were relatively minor, got Paul fired up again.

"Thunderclouds..." he repeated under his breath, intrigued by the brief description of the spell. He let himself relax a bit as he got back into position, closing his eyes and slipping into his trance. "Any techniques I should be aware of? I know we have a strat down, but if there's anything I should at least unconsciously mimic..."