I find myself having some spare time between now and when my session starts...

so I bring you "soulmelding" another snippet for Marc.

Spoiler
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I am an incarnate; I commune with the souls of those who come before me, borrowing on their power and expertise.

But who must I borrow from today?

I hear the rush of feathers over fast moving air, the snap of leather pinions propelling creatures through the blue.
Flight.
I draw on the souls of those who lived with the freedom of a bird, the ability to flit and dive and escape into the sky.
I shape their power into a pair of sandals; binding the power into my body… the sandals merge into me, turning my legs the blue of a clear sky, from my knees down to my toes.

Who else?
There are those who believe it is better to be lucky than good, a great many of these individuals were both.
I rely on my own skill, but I will gladly share in their luck.
I draw on this good fortune to craft myself a set of dice. The dice represent luck, and I will turn this luck to my own ends.

War…
War is eternal; it will always be a part of normal life. Some cultures, such as my own, venerate war and its makers.
It is only fitting that I borrow from these exemplars of my race’s art.
I borrow on past warriors instinct and prowess, I will react quicker to threats and my blows will land harder.
I shape their power into a pair of blue bracers that settle over my forearms, though my spines still protrude from them.

There are those who value defense over offense
A solid fortress and suit of armor rather than a potent offense and weapon.
From them I draw fortitude, and the ability to ignore telling blows.
I shape this resolve into pauldrons that rest over my shoulders.

What is left?
A weapon, a weapon that is useful against most opponents. A good weapon must not only be destructive, but terrifying.
Acid.
I call upon the spirits of dragons, black as night, and the coppery taste of blood. I shape their power into a torc around my neck. A bitter taste fills my mouth, I feel the urge to spit, but I know now that my saliva is as potent an acid as any alchemist’s work.

I am now ready to face the day.
I am the Law.



I like marc, he provides this overwhelming desire to say
"today seems like a good day to use excessive force.
hell, every day is a good day to use excessive force!"

and yell things like
"I AM THE LAW!!!" -smashes opponent with mace.