Log:Skull Enters Stage Right

Dem Bones 2022/02/04 Radical Grimm Ziand 2

It's the day after the cemetery incident when Grimm meets up with Radical on a rooftop in Harrisburg. She's even as nice as to open a gate straight to him so he can step through and find her. As the dark gate opens before him, he sees a smiling Gabrielle on the other side. "Once more unto the breach?" she asks, phone in hand.

Radical chuckles, and points back to the gate. "I suppose that was just it, right?"

Grimm laughs. "Yup. There may be a few more to come." She scrolls through her contacts and taps Sasha's number to call him. In her phone, he's listed as Executive Goth.

After a few rings, the call's picked up. In the background, Grimm hears what sounds like combat: small explosions, shouts, screams, blast of energy. Curiously, the language being cursed in in the background is not English. Maybe something Slavic?

"I'm a little busy at present, Ms Grimm. Can you be quick?"

This is said in a slightly winded voice by Sasha.

Radical furrows his brow. "Hmm."

"Having fun?" Gabrielle says in amusement. She puts the phone on speaker. "I'm with Radical at the moment. We really need to talk with your gaming friend if that's possible."

"Go to the school! Password of the day is 'Eclectic'.!" There is a loud boom then a roar of some beast. "Excuse me, must dash!" The line does dead.

"Wait, do you need any--!" And then the line dies. Gabrielle sighs. "Help," she finishes. She looks to Radical.

Radical nods. "Can we help him? Is that possible? Where is he?"

Grimm sighs. "I have...no idea. I'm not attuned to him like I am to you. I can try and scry for him, but...it's a long shot and a big world." She pockets her phone. "He usually likes to do things on his own, but...here goes nothing." She begins to float and draws her legs up to fold them, sitting cross legged in mid air. She bobs very slowly and closes her eyes, hands on her knees, palms up as she meditates and reaches out with her mind.

Gabrielle is quiet and focused for several moments as her consciousness canvases the city. And the state. And then the east coast. Her brows knit at that.

The general city is free of Sasha, in any of the forms you know he uses, and, for that matter, of any large combats at the moment.

As you uses Sought by Shadows you quietly realize that he's not anywhere on the East Coast.

Grimm murmurs, "He's not in the city. Hell, he's not even on the whole East Coast."

Grimm sighs and stops. "He's too far for me to find," she says, disappointed in herself.

Radical nods. "Well, I guess...we go use this password?"

Grimm nods and sets her feet on the ground. "I guess so. I'm sure he'll be fine." She almost sounds certain. "You familiar with the school?"

Radical nods. "Vaguely. I've been there once, I think. Amelia brought me along."

Grimm nods. "Alright, I guess I'll bring us there." She concentrates and opens a gate to an old church ruin in Harrisburg.

Collapsed Ruins: This building is whats left of an abandoned church. The walls are falling in, with the eastern and southern walls punctured in multiple places by large holes as if a wrecking ball had been used on them. No glass remains in any of the windows. The steeple of the church looks as if it was torn off and cast down and now blocks the front doors of the church. The roof is shattered in several places and the top of the steeple is now exposed to the elements. The second floor of the church has collapsed down and the nave of the building is filled with a tangle of dangerous rubble. It stands forlorn and abandoned in the midst of a wide set of parking lots cratered and cracked with grass jutting up through where it can in clumps.

Radical steps through the gate, and looks around. "You know, I feel like the city is going to do something about this building sooner or later."

Grimm steps through and leads the way through the church ruins, the nave, and to the hidden entrance to the school. "Hopefully. They probably won't because they don't see profit in it, or the taxpayers will complain about helping the unfortunate," she shorts and sighs. "At least the password isn't so embarrassing this time. 'Eclectic'," she announces to the door.

As Grimm leads the way through the collapsed church, Radical notes a few things. There are no signs of animal or people living here is one. Second, the rubble seems remarkable well preserved. And last, half the nave of the church has been restored to an open, covered space, the pews refurbished and set back up, and the altar lit candles on it. There is an almost sensible sense of peace in the nave.

Then you pas through back into Harrisburg and approach Sacred Heart.

As Grimm announces the pasword to the door, a speaker to one side, covered in graffiti, crackles with a girlish voice, "That you, Ms Grimm?" she says with 'Burg accent.

Radical remains quiet, letting Grimm do the talking.

Grimm glances over at Radical, noticing him be quiet. He feels her attempt to reach out to him mentally as she looks back to the speaker. "Yeah, it's me. Sasha gave me the password for today."

You both hear the door unlock with a clunk of magnetic being opens then hear a sliding sound before the door opens. A young black teen, stands by the door. He looks to be about 16 os so, but is over six feet tall if a bit thin of build. He holds an actual drop wooden drop bar in his hands as he stands aside with a 'Ms Grimm" spoken in a surprisingly deep voice.

Behind the desk at the back of school's lobby sits a petite young teen girl, with dark brown hair and eyes who seems a year or two younger than the boy. She waves as says in a slow voice, "Welcome back, Ms Grimm. Um...wa-watch your step Sasha says." She shrugs as she slowly adds, "Guess you're not on the tree no more."

Grimm floats over any tricky steps with a slow drifting movement. "Hey, "John," she says to the tall kid. She smiles at the girl at the desk. "Hey, Maggie. I suppose so. I guess that means I'm off the hook from babysitting duty. Probably after that last time where I took you all to that fantasy realm and you razed a city and set yourself up as royalty," she chuckles, then sighs. "That was a good time, though." Despite her excuse, she figures it's because Sasha has deemed her too dangerous to have open access to the school without his say-so.

The interior seems dim (-3 PER) and the footing treacherous inside (-3 DEX or fall down per 10m moved). But, as Grimm demonstrates the latter can be overcome by not touching the floor.

And the air is so thick with magick here thet it's hard to 'see' through it with such senses.

Radical finds the footing a bit slippery, so he goes with his secondary option. Teleporting from place to place.

"Y'all want me to guide you up," puts in John with a grin. "And yeah, that was arid and crash, Ms Grimm."

"I liked be-being a princess!" states Maggis with a smile.

"I can take 'em up, John!" says the piping voice of Jordan from up on the second floor. This is followed by a thunderous stomping down the stairs by Jorden who is closely followed by a silently running Xander.

Grimm chuckles. "We won't be having another one of those 'field trips' for some time, I think," she says as she floats along like Marceline the Vampire Queen. She smiles at Maggie. "You still are a princess. Just waiting for the next kingdom to conquer," she winks as she swirls her finger at Maggie, conjuring the same princess outfit she chose to wear for herself in that adventure over her normal clothes. "There. Something you can keep to remind you that you're always a princess," she smiles.

Maggie looks at the outfit and beams with happiness. "Arid! Maga-arid!" She smiles brightly at Grimm. "Thank you, Ms Grimm!"

Gabrielle seems surprisingly not grumpy with the kids. In fact, she seems to be quite fond of them. She smiles as Jordan calls out. She spins to float backwards so she can face John as she drifts towards the stairs, offering a custom salute of a fist to her heart. "My King," she excuses herself with a bow to John.

John rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Later, Md Grimm!" he says as he goes back to the front door and drops the bar down to barricade the door again.

Radical does interrupt. His ability to deal with kids...is generally not as good as Grimm's apparently. At least he thinks so.

Jordan comes to stop before the floating Grimm and looks at her. The very mixed race boy smiles warmly, "Have you come to see 'you-know-who'?"

His paler, but equally young looking if not acting, shadow Xander lets out a silent sigh.

Gabrielle laughs at John's eye-roll. "Later, John," she says and continues to drift with Radical. <> She asks Radical. She nods to Jordan. "Yeah, it's about that thing at the beach and...some other stuff related to it, I guess you could say."

The panel widens to show Jordan (12 years ol ; mixed Black/Asian/Hispanic/White; he has old small circular burns on his exposed arem but is Exotically Cute (Attractive Appearance 2) and Xander (same age, pale skinned, black hair and dark eyes, serious expression, always watching)

Radical answers Gabrielle over the link, << Well, it's not like he and I have chatted over scotch much. I'm afraid I don't know him that well. >>

Once again, there is something familiar about Xander to Radical, but he just can't quite place it. Have you seen him before? Not a the faire, but, hmm, a puzzler.

<< Oh...>> Gabrielle responds with some surprise. << Yes, I do. Ziand. He's...an interesting sort. You'll see. I figured you'd know him, but...I guess you don't really know that one teammate too well.>>

Jordan looks from Grimm to Radical then back to Grimm. He then reaches up and takes Grimm's hand. "Come on! You-know-who is waiting. He's put off a raid and he's nega-arid about it." He spurs on Grimm's hand towards the stairs.

Radical nods and follows. He responds to Grimm, << The glue that holds the group together is Amelia, I think. Everyone seems to know her well. There are other connections, of course, but she's kind of a hub for connections. >>

Grimm chuckles at Jordan looking back and forth. She weighs about as much as a shadow as he pulls her along through the air. "You do know Radical, don't you?" she asks Jordan. That kid knows things, after all. "Oh boy...so he's going to be soooo happy to see us," she says sarcastically. << Oh. That's a shame. >> she thinks to Radical with pity.

Radical waves as he's introduced. "Hello." He thinks to Grimm, << It doesn't' have to remain that way. But Sasha strikes me as a private person. Much like I am. Perhaps we are more similar than I think. >>

As you move upstairs, he says, "Yeah, I know 'bout Radical. He's famous!" says Jordan.

Jordan and Xander, who sticks by his side like glue, lead you to the third floor to a door at hear the end of the hallway and into Sasha's bedroom (+inspect bedroom).

Jordan lets go of Grimm's hand, goes over to a full-length mirror against one door, does something, and the mirror swings out to reveal a steep flight of stairs heading up.

"You-know-who said we had to let you all go up alone. But, that he's made it safe for y'all!" He grins. "Come back down and convince Mads to get out the visitors cake! It's good. And we can't have none unless there's visitors!"

Grimm chuckles to herself. << Oh trust me, the similarities stop there. You guys are nothing alike.>> She smiles to Jordan. "Well, safe except from his ire for interrupting his raid. And okay, we'll come down after we're done. I can introduce Radical to the other Little Wolves if he doesn't know them. Thanks, Jordan." She seems to be ignoring Xander.

Radical nods to Grimm, "I think I met them, though I might have been without my mask at the time."

As Jordan and Xander head out back to the hallway, the sprite calls back, "Yeah, y'all weren't. And shut the mirror behind y'all!" as the door closes.

Grimm waves to the kids and starts to float up the stairs. "Hey, Ziand. Why are the kids even afraid to say your name in the school?" she taunts.

Radical follows after Grimm, blipping from place to place.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you hear a voice that sounds like it's coming from the bottom of a well. "No, we won't fight with them. They never divide the spoils equally. That's my final word as the guildmaster!"

5rAs the stairs rise up into the attic space, you remember how large it is. Near these stairs sits a SOTA communications and security hub. What is not SOTA is the old skull with the sky blue runes inscribed on it facing a series of monitors. Several are of scenes in and around the school. One is a muted news program. And the center and largest is of a medieval looking room filled with monster heads and trophies.

Well, one this is SOTA about the skull: the headset and mic setup on it.

The skull swivels slowly to face Grimm. "They're not," it says, somehow, despite having no flesh. "It's just Jordan having fun. He's on a super-spy fixation right now," says the skull, Ziand apparently, with a chuckle.

"Now, what do you want? I had to put off a raid weeks in the planning. And if you don't hurry, I go into all the gory details."

Radical chuckles quietly, but looks to Grimm.

There is vaguely Eastern European or Slavic accent to Ziand's English in addition of the well=like quality.

And, to Radica's perhaps not surprise, Ziand fits the description, to a tee, of the Archmage's Skull.

Well, except for the earpiece headset.

"Oh is he now? That explains the mysterious wake up calls I've been getting," Gabrielle chuckles. She does become more somber after. "It's about your bones again. And Ana-rata. We need to remove her curse from someone, but she won't stop until we give her the bones. What's your deal with her, anyway?"

Radical looks to Grimm. Clearly she knew about this being the Archmage's skull. "Hmm."

Grimm can certainly feel Radical's eyes on her. << What?>>

Radical responds, << We can talk about it later. I dont' want to distract you. >>

"Huh, well there's a name I never hoped to hear again," mutters Ziand. "Just a sec." He swivels back t the screen tne a pair of ghostly sky blue hands materialize and flash across the keyboard as he logs out of the game. As the screen goes black, he turns back to the two of you.

"I'd call her a stalker if she was interested in me for some reason other than my mind. She thinks I have knowledge about her 'lost love'. That I can help her get him back."

He then sighs. "That's why my bones are here isn't it? She's free again and collecting them? Again?"

<< I'm the queen of multitasking, but sure.>> Gabrielle wonders if he's putting it off because something is up. "Takofanes, you mean? Yeah. And...we think she's free. So tell us about the prior time."

Radical nods as he listens to the conversation.

"It was during the reign of, oh which effing one was it, Thutmoses the Something, that part's unimportant. She send agents, spirits of the dead, to collect my bones. And sent a powerful lich to fetch me from the very nice funerary temple I was living in at the time." He sighs. "Those priests know how to treat me right. I mean, the warm oil massages, the nubile youngsters who'd clean me, the..." He seems to re-focus. "Well, it failed to get me three times then she came for me herself. And yanked me out of that cushy gig."

He sighs, "And then she started in on trying to get me to help her. Threats, bribes, torture, the whole works." He huffs. "FOr some reason she thought I was holding out on her!"

Radical nods slowly. "So...how would her recovering your bones allow her to bring back Takofanes?"

Grimm cringes a little about the nubile youngsters rubbing bones with oil.

Ziand makes a hrmming sound in his non-existent throat, "Because I /was/ holding out on her, Radical. I know about Takofanes than I'm comfortable knowing." Those same ghostly sky blue hands reach up and remove his headset, setting them carefully on a charger. "Luckily, three gods-touched young people, along with a small army, defeated Ana-rata, rescued me, and, with my help, re-imprisoned her."

Radical nods again, "So, is she free now? Or is she affecting Lightray from inside her prison?"

Grimm lets out a low whistle. "Well, we know at lest one god-touched person to help, I guess," she mutters under her breath.

"Not having been there, I cannot say for certain," rumbles Ziand. "But, based on my knowledge of her, likely her curse was placed when she was free back in the 1950s. Then, as she's free again, she just manipulated magick to restore it."

The skull scoots through moving its jaw to the edge of the desk its on then stops. "Rather than jaw walking, can one of you carry me? It'll be both quicker and easier for me. We need to go to near the Tree of Life."

Radical looks to Grimm, "Would you like to do the honors?"

Grimm nods and makings a lifting motion. Dark energy surrounds the skull and lifts it up, floating it over to the tree of life.

THe Tree of Life sits in the center of the workroom so its about 60 feet from the security/computer center where Ziand was.

"Just set me at the base of it, Ms Grimm. Or can I call you Gabrielle, or perhaps Gabby after that toothless gaffer in the old 20th centory westerns on the trid channels?"

Grimm's eye twitches faintly at the mention of Gabby. "Just Grimm is fine. You can drop the Miss to make it easier. Or Gabrielle."

There is, mystically speaking, a thrum of power when one is next to the Tree. It's constantly manipulating the mystical energies that flow up into it from elsewhere. Many small streams of mana feed into its roots from both this world and other dimensions as it before what eveer 'duties' it performs.

"Just set me agasint the base of the Tree, Gabrielle. The mana flowing through the Tree will mask me...well, after I tweak it a bit."

Radical walks over as well, following Gabrielle.

Ziand then adds, "Probably paranoia on my part as this entire building is shielded to within a hair of dropping out of Malkuth into the Astral as far as sensing it from afar goes."

He then murmurs, "Do you /need/ to know about Takofanes? Or just Ana-rata?"

Radical thinks about it. "Knowing about both woudl be helpful. The latter is necessary. The former is just...prudent."

Grimm nods in agreement with Radical.

"I will give you some broad details about Takofanes then. Hmm, a precis perhaps," murmurs Ziand as he nestles up against the Tree. "He was the greatest threat to humanity since the Elder Worm and their Edomite 'gods' were driven from this world. No one knows where he came from or exactly when he was spawned. But, at his height, he ruled with an iron hand nearly all of a primeval Earth of his era. He was utterly without equal, powerful beyond belief in magick and such an exmaple of lichdom that its impressed itself on Reality. He was not the first lich, but certain the archetype for mages thereafter whether they knws it or not."

Sasha continues after a moment. "He was a monster who preferred the dead to the living as the dead, well, he had a knack for necromancy that even Ana-rata cannot match. And for all the darker magicks as well." He looks at the two of you. "Have either of you read the Silmarillion?"

"Or seen that movie made in the early 20s directed by Jackson based on it?"

Grimm's eyes widen t the description. "I haven't...no. Sorry."

Radical thinks about it. "I read it years ago. I barely remember it, though. Lots of Elven history, if I recall."

"Good enough. Remember Morgoth, the Great Enemy, and how he won in the end? HOw it took good men petitioning the gods, sorry, archangels, to intercede to dereat Morgoth in the end? Well, not quite that celestirtal an ending, but Takofanes, the God King Kal-Turak, the Lord of the Throne of Human Ivory, his defeat reshaped this world on a grander scale than the fall of Atantis did. Ana-rata is Sauron to his Morgoth, a pale shadow of a greater evil."

Radical thinks about that. "My memory of the book is pretty weak, but okay, I think I get the analogy."

Grimm blinks at all this. "Wow. How have I not read about this guy?"

"He was not present in the flesh when he met Ana-rata. But, in the spirit, partially, Takofanes was in the unfortunate young man who somehow was possessed by his, call it, fragment," states Ziand."

The skull turns to look at Grimm. "Becuase this all happened over 30,000 years before the fall of Atlantis, Gabrielle. So, over 60,000 years ago." He then adds, "And, literally, the world

"And, literally, the world's been trhough the changes wrought by takofanes death and the fall of Atlantis. This is a different world."

Radical nods as he listens, "Got it."

Grimm's jaw drops a bit. "Okay..."

Sasha swivels to look at both of you one at a time. "Let us pray to whatever gods or Powers you believe in that Takofanes remains a bad racial memory until Ana-rata is put down again, but if he somehow emerges, I will tell you more. Is that enough about him for you for now?"

Radical nods. "I think so, at least for now."

Grimm smirks a little at the praying comment, since she's the unofficial official high priestess of Titan on a lark. Should she be praying to him, then? The imagery amuses her, a mental visual of a take on JW Waterhouse's The Magic Circle painting. But then something nags at the back of her head. "So then, oh wise Ziand...how do you know so much if you're supposedly from 30,000 years after his death?"

Ziand is silent for a long moment then says, "Because when I was searching for ways to overthrow the God-Kings, I paid a heavy price to a seer..." He pauses then snorts, an impressive feat for someone without a nose. "Let's call them what they were, a demon lord, lady in this case, for knowledge. Her words led me to a cavern. And in that cavern, carved on a wall, was forbidden knowledge of a demon-god once called Krim. Who was a, call it patron, of the cursed from before birth child who became Takofanes. Fortunately, that wall no longer exists."

Radical nods. "So, what can you tell us about Ana-rata?"

"That she has terrible taste in decor. I never cared for the Sumerian design styles," quips Ziand. He then adds after a moment, "Or do you mean about her powers and minions?"

Radical nods. "I'm unlikely to judge her aesthetics."

Grimm rubs her face a little.

Sasha murmurs, "You should. It is the least of her failings." Ziand then takes a moment before he says, "She is no longer a god, so 'true immkortality' is no longer hers. But, physically, she is still very resilient; consider her a minor brick as metas go. Along with strength and resilence, she has no physical needs like a normal human. If she eats or drinks, for instance, it's becuase she chooses to do so. Expect it be blood and hearts or something simlarly offal." He chuckles, a bit darkly, at that. "English is good for puns. Not as good as Atlantean, but what is?"

Grimm winces. "If you could choose when to eat or if to eat, why would you eat terrible stuff like that?"

The skull continues. "Ana-rata no longer has many of her godly attributes, her godly gifts. But, she can still radiate a dark majesty that can cow the earker willed even if it's draining to her now. She, similarly, radiates a constant effect that is, pleasing, conforting, to undead. Where she gained that I have no idea."

He looks over at Grimm. "To show your disdain for humanity...and to terrfiy any humans in your presence, I would imagine. She was a queen. Politics, manipulating perceptions via mundane means, Ana-rate still has that."

Radical takes a deep breath. "I think some cultures used to eat hearts as a way to gain the power of those they killed."

Sasha nods. "And that as well. She is not an Elizabeth the First or Catherine the Great. Ana-rata was never human. She looks down on mere mortals even if, technically she still is. And, yes, I would imagine, like the undead she creates, she gains strength from mortal life and souls. But that is just a guess on my part."

"As to her magickal abilities? Well, she is probably the greatest necromancer in the world. She commands great powers in black magick as well. I' hyave seen her use thaumaturgy like I once wielded, if of a darker overall nature. She probably is one of the greatest lorists of ancient magicks post-Atlantis," states Ziand.

"Ana-rate possesses a sharp intellect and a powerful will. Think of her as a, who to use, think of her as a magickal Doctor Destroyer. But with magick as her focus, necromancy her specialty, rather than technology,

'adds the skull.

Grimm wrinkles her nose a little. "So..mortal and just long lived, thanks to magic and...other stuff. If she's mortal but not human, what is she?" She glances Radical's way at the mention of a magical Doctor Destroyer. "Well. This may have us outclassed. Just a bit."

Radical shrugs, "Maybe we're tougher than we believe. We did manage to beat Lord Krul, after all."

"She is what is left when a god becomes mortal. A husk that desires to rise to godhood again. She is uniquely cursed as far as I know. IF she were a god still, well, she would likely have gone to wherever dead gods go when they linger. And of that I shall not speak," says Ziand.

In the depths of her mind, Grimm hears a whispered echoing word: Quemetiel.

Grimm shoots a smile at Radical. "I...suppose we do have some stuff tucked under our belts." She likes his confidence. It encourages her. She looks back to Ziand and listens. She shivers faintly as a word is whispered into her mind, like much forbidden knowledge. "Quemetiel?" she hazards.

"Stop, Gabrielle!" shouts Ziand from the depths of his well. "Do not go further than that word! Stop!"

Radical raises a brow, "What is it, exactly?"

Sasha says in a whisper, "It is the closest one can come to the final depths of the Qliphopthic before complete negation. It is the 'Crowd of Gods', a churning, chaotic fusion of long-defunct gods and cosmic entities, those who would not pass on. It mindlessly eternally suck in all that comes near like a supernatural black hole. Gazing upon it drives one mad. Few ever return to sanity."

The skulls shudders. "And that is all I can say."

Grimm is startled at Ziand's reaction. She looks between Radical and Ziand, her expression concerned. "I just ...heard the word. In the back of my mind. It came to me like a whisper."

"Yes, well stop saying the things your whipsers say to you out loud, Gabrielle! They are not on your or Reality's side," snaps Ziand.

He mutters after a moment, "How can I still get headaches without any meat on my bones?"

Radical takes a deep breath. "I don't think a single word is enough for an incantation."

Grimm folds her arms over her chest defensively. "Alright, alright," she mutters, concerned that these things are even popping up into her head.

"NO, but it is enough for a flashback, Radical. I have worked hard to get back to mostly sane over the millenia," states Ziand.

Grimm decides to research this word herself later. "So...you gazed upon it?"

Radical looks to Ziand curiously.

"I was linked to the mind of someone who gazed upon it, Gabrielle. The mind of my 'master' at the time. That is why I made it back in the end," says Ziand. "I spent, well, I have no idea how many years I lost to mandess. Then, I made my way out thanks to a little help from that who I am devoted to. That was sometime before pre-dynastic Egypt."

"And...is this person you're devoted to able to help us any?" Gabrielle asks. "How...long have you been just bones? Why you?"

"I became just 'bones' within a few months of my execution for high treason and other crimes. Being thrown into the ocean because you refuse to die and to to your eternal punishment offended the God-King of the day. So, around 30000 years. And why? Becuase I foolishly annoyed a Power who gave me 'immortal life' to fight the God-Kings without me being wise enough to think through the consequences. " murmurs Ziand in a distant tone.

5rHe then answers the first question, "And no, it helps those who help themselves who by that point no longer need the help. That way you learn and grow and change. I think it got bored with my insanity so showed me the way out."

"Admittedly, I got really a head of myself being shortened by the headman's axe," he adds with a chuckle.

Grimm looks on with some horror. "I...I think there was a horror comedy about something like this," she mutters. Then facepalms at Ziand's joke.

"That never gets old. For me in any case," says Ziand with humor when Grimm's facepalms.

Radical shakes hsi head at the pun, but he doesn't comment otherwise.

"It's apparently 30,000 years old," Gabrielle says drolly as her hand drops.

"Admittedly, for the first hundred or more years, hard to tell how long, I could only practice on the fish...or the odd octpus that used me as a shell," murmurs Ziand.