Ruination

Look at all these cute townspeople going about their day as if nothing was wrong.

His feet dangled off the roof of the temple that overlooked the pretty little townsquare at Falstaff. Ivy here, running water there, it was all so picturesque. Falstaff was so far removed from the chaos going on in Faline, from the tension in the streets, the way those thrice-damned witchfinders were stopping and imprisoning people.

Mages should be kings, not rats snuffed out of their hidey-holes at the mercy of cattle. The way mages bowed their heads to witchfinders, to what Miriam was proposing, to being locked behind bars just so these cows down below him could sleep a little easier at night sickened him. He took a swig from the bottle at his fingertips, draining it dry, then stood up on the roof shingles, his hips swaying from the drink, making the many, many, many pieces of Outlander jewelry he'd purchased clank together with a horrible noise. He gave a snaggle-toothed, sneering grin a the cows down below, dangling the empty bottle over the cobblestones far below, and he let it drop the moment he stepped off into open air.

The crash of glass and the small shriek of surprise as it almost hit a girl in a peach-pink dress got their attention as he stepped down from the top of the temple, his hands spread wide as he seemed to walk an invisible staircase. Telekinesis was so handy, especially when multiplied seven times over. Did he care that it made the veins stick out on his throat, that it felt like some kind of poison? What did it matter when mages were looked at like monsters?

If they wanted a monster, he'd give them one.

"What a fine afternoon this is!" He cried out, getting as many eyes on him as he could. There was a wild edge to the way he moved, and he could see it in their eyes, the way they pushed their kids behind them. "Be a shame if I didn't spread the good word of our new and upcoming Archmage, good ol' Miriam! Anyone here heard of her yet?"

Look at the placid way they were looking at him, afraid already before he'd even done anything. He peered at them all, especially the ones who were already edging away.

"No?"

Fortune save 'em, what useless cattle they were. You didn't feel badly when beef is served on your plate, did you? It had to come from somewhere. Cows were meant to be put in their place, reminded of how short their lives were when -- nah, he had to stop that stupid metaphor before he made himself hungry.

"She's got some good ideas, that one! Thinks she can lock up mages! No, wait, 'scuse me, she actually thinks mages will walk themselves all nice-like into prison cause she says so! What a good leader, that one!" 

His grin turned feral, and he extended a hand, curling his fingers like claws. The pretty little ivy-covered fountain was ripped out of the ground, eliciting screams as chunks of stone fell down.

"Remember to support Miriam, everyone!" He yelled with sneering false cheerfulness, before he threw the fountain straight at the temple behind him.