View source for To Gaze Into Infinity

::''Society for Progressive Arcanists, Late Morning''

A cold breeze in the air makes mages huddle in their robes and cuddle their familiars close as they get through their morning classes. Tension in the air as tests and finals thicken the campus.

One figure cuddle up in a mass of robes, feathers, and snuggling a teeny tiny white bird is that of a rainbow ribboned egalrin woman. The chill didn't seem to bother her much, but she shifts and grunts as the tiny thrush pecks at the hand holding them tight. "Unmesi. Your failure of proper planning does not constitute shirking your duties."

Slix mumbles. "Five more minutes...."

"Minutes are subjective. The present is now."

"Mmm... presents..."

An annoyed twittering follows more pecking.

Some people don't have to worry about tests, except when they're -giving- them. Which makes Telamon's presence almost infuriating, as he casually strolls out of one of the lecture halls, after the gaggle of students have departed. "The things I do to help my friends," he muses, inspecting the sheaf of test papers in his hand. Deftly he tucks them into his haversack, before walking across the courtyard, dressed quite casually in a white silk long-sleeved blouse with ruffled cuffs, black riding trousers, and boots with delicate stitching suggestive of trees along the outside.

He pauses, though, catching sight of the ribbons and feathers, tilting his head. "Slixvah," he says mildly. "I haven't seen you in a while. Everything all right at the Aerie?" He approaches, apparently even less bothered by the cold than she is.

The rust red and white feathered woman starts. "Bwuh--? I'm supposed to be here, I have a test with Professor uh.. uh--!" She rubs at her eyes. "Oh! Heya Telly!"

Fiadh bemoans. "Oh now /that/ wakes you."

The familiar gets a gentle pat on the head. "Yuh yuh. Everthin's jus' good! I was up studyin' late last night because I found this really interesting book that-"

"Unmesi fell asleep on the bench talking to students coming from the night classes."

She stares at the bird. "You sure are feisty today. Anywho, what's up wit'cha?"

Telamon gives Fiadh a look, evidently comparing the familiar's attitude with that of Pothy, before addressing Slixvah again. "Oh, Professor Garlen has a horrendous cold, and asked me if I'd monitor the students taking their first-year tests. I'll check their answers, then pass the packet back to Garlen, see what he thinks before the grades are posted." He chuckles. "See what happens when you become a familiar face? People come looking for you."

He sits down on the bench, fishing in his haversack, before producing -- an apple. "Want one? I promise, they're real. What was the book about?"

Fiadh is certainly more energetic than most other encounters. Lively, even. "Ah, I see! Well I'm glad ya gots folks tha' can depend on ya even fo' stuff like that." Slixvah rubs her neck. "I'm a familiar face, but I'm no sure how much people come lookin' fo' me in this institute. Prolly annoyed mo' than anything."

Slix perks at the fruit. "Oh! Sure!" she chirps, taking and pecking it. A happy trill escapes her before she answers-

"It was a lie to facade academic alacrity," Fiadh cuts in, wriggling free from Slix's grasp and fluttering up to perch atop the witch's head.

Said witch groans, rolling her eyes. "Boo. Anywho, thanks fo' the apple, surprised ya still got one in storage. Please ignore Fidah. They's get antsy in the morning."

The apple is... fresh. Not preserved, not dried, not wrinkled. And tasty! Telamon smiles as Slixvah takes it, and sits back. "Witches often have a hard time being accepted among more... established citadels of academia. The 'new child' syndrome, I suppose."

He rubs his chin. "I wonder if sorcerers had this same problem? Our magics are not learned like a wizard's, but innate -- springing from some deep well, created by, well, whatever gives us our powers. And every sorcerer is different."

Slix laughs at that, taking another cleaving peck into the apple. "Mmm! Yum! Yep! Theys shure do! I got kicked outta school in Rune 'cause of it. I was /tryin'/ ta tell 'em its a new way to do shtuff since Animus went kaput, but they weren't having it."

She turns to Telamon, half eaten apple being waved about like it was a conducting wand. "Maybe a long time ago? It ain' learned, but it's sorta like, figured out? Ya know what I mean? Th' Chalice got loads ta bounce ideas and methods about. Get witches together? Prime target for some smitin' before it becomes an alleged coven."

Her rant continues, pecking frustratedly into the flesh of the fruit. "I /know/ th' magic looks really spooky. Bu' it ain' gonna hurt anyone unless I tell it to!"

"Spooky," Telamon says in a tone of weariness. "Because, you know, space sorcerers aren't weird, and fey sorcerers aren't weird, and even your standard one-size-for-all wizard can't be weird." He shakes his head. "It's just provincialism is what it is. 'Oh, it's different, so it must be bad!'."

"Don't feel too bad about shaking up the usual patterns of thought. I almost wound up in a fistfight once over a paper I wrote on teleportation. And I'm not even a witch. If people are too closed-minded to listen, that's on them. I won't say you're always right -- but it's worth at least examining a different point of view."

Slix cackles once more. "Tha's what I'm sayin'! Gods forbid ya get other magics, like stuff from the lower or higher planes!" she opines, taking another chomp out of the apple.

She gives a sharp nod at that, grinning. "Oh I totes get that. Been tossed out of so many classes fo' controversial papers! Oh well, their loss. /I/ can use healin' magics when /they/ can't!"

Her mood falters slightly, a grimace crossing her face. "In... moderation, of course. Healin' mojo- super useful! Gettin' my head ready for it- I'd rather drink bottom shelf grog."

Telamon fishes in his haversack again, pulling out a flask of tea. "Well, people get entrenched in their theories. If you want to talk to someone who -isn't- a stick in the mud, there's a fair number of people I can recommend." He looks thoughtful at the mention of magics.

"Funny you mention that. That ring of mine can be fueled by my own magic, but the spell placed in it isn't always what you'd expect. Bardic and witch spells work with it, which raises all sorts of interesting questions." He looks at Slixvah, frowning. "You really should not be having this much trouble -preparing- spells, though. It shouldn't be that unpleasant."

"I would /love/ ta chat wit' someone tha' ain' a stick!" Slix grins, finishing off the apple, core and all. She rubs her beak at that quandary. "Tha' really does raise some weird questions. Is my mojo the same as yours? Does th' end result afta effort is put through it what matters? I'd love ta dissect it."

The egalrin glances to the arch-mage, only to look up to the sky. "I don't have trouble. But it is unpleasant. It's..." She grinds her beak. "How do I explain th' unexplainable...."

She turns to Telamon, holding her hands out as if building an explanation. "Okay. Imagine this. Somethin' bigger than you, beyond ya comprehension. Exists and doesn't, is everywhere and no where. And it gives ya magic. But the magic is... not wrong, just different. The way it works, the incantations, the methods are all wrong, and every single one would melt your brain if you ain't got the gumption to keep it shoved in there. Weird and esoteric. Am I making sense so far?"

"I'll put together some suggestions," Telamon offers, sipping his tea. "I think you'd like a couple of them. Some are crazy old coots, some are young bucks who haven't had their thinking petrify yet."

He listens to Slixvah, but shakes his head. "I mean, this seems an awful lot like you're doing -something- backwards or wrong. I've never met anyone who had this problem. Oh, there's a kind of mental 'ache' from expending a lot of magical energy very quickly -- I've felt that. But this sounds more like you're trying to touch the Sea of Mana in some strange way that doesn't quite fit."

"I look forward to it!" Slix grins before her eyes flash with agreement. She leans in, excited. "That- yes, exactly. I am. I literally am. Tha's what I'm gettin' at. Witches, least fo' me, gots this /super/ weird way of gettin' they magic. And the preperation- lesser minds would crumble or go insane." A pause. "I've always been an eccentric goober, this just exemplifies it!"

She picks up Fiadh, looking at the golden eyed thrush. Slix speaks softly. "I call it the Tapestry. The Weave, the Sea, all of it, it's the same thing, just a different lens. In that Tapestry, things that are merely concepts... they're reality. Sentimental attachments are a real force. Luck isn't a concept. Words of wisdom are power."

Telamon hmmms. "I admit I don't know many witches -- well, my cousin, and you, but that's about it. She never mentioned suffering problems preparing spells, but then she's not the complaining sort either." He hmphs. "Entirely new way to handle magic and half the time it's a pain in the arse. Bah."

At Slixvah's words, Tel nods. "Thought affects reality, and some thoughts are powerful enough to bend reality entirely. And just because something isn't real, doesn't mean it can't hurt you. I learned that lesson from a mentor of mine."

"And tha's the thing, I don' know many witches either! And th' ones I do know are really scarce. And th' other ones- hags!" Slixvah scowls. "They do it wrong and horrid. Kinda like how necromancy wizards tend ta end up bein' bad."

A little sigh leaves her as she nods. "Smart mentor. As tha's very true for what I do." She grinds her beak. "I... don' know how Fifi talks wit' the Sea. Tha's for them ta figure out. They interpret it fo' me, and translate it inta little nuggets of wisdom. Gettin' those nuggets- excuse my Khazad- hurt like a bitch sometimes. You'd think the destructive mojo is the worst, but honestly, th' healin' and drainin' stuff is rough if repeated over and over."

Fiadh tweets something at Slix. She considers, then nods slowly. "I can show you if ya want."

"There does seem to be some correlation there," Telamon admits. "And hags -- ugh. I've never had the pleasure, but I've heard tales. Uncle Telgari's never had anything good to say about them." He ponders the question. "Well... it's always easier to break something than fix it. I suppose that would be the same for healing. But you'd think having an interpreter would make it easier, not harder. With sorcerers, we each interact with the mana in different ways, filtered through our own experiences as well as... well, our bloodline, our heritage."

At Slix's suggestion, he raises his eyebrows. "Show me how? Illusionary diagram? I've used that a time or two, it's good for 'sketching out' concepts."

Slixvah bobs her head along. "I don' know if it's somethin' wit' witches and hags but man I really don' like 'em. Usin' such power for wrong." She blinks. "Uncle Telgari's a witch? You... wouldn't happen ta be able to arrange a meeting?" Big smile. Flutter the eyes. "It's harder 'cause it's more direct. Not filtered through wisdom of the blood and what have ya."

She inhales deeply. "Oh ya sweet summer child," Slix coos coyly, placing Fiadh on top of her head. "Alright Fifi, let's get part of it over with. Aaaa little birdy once told meee~" she sing songs.

Fiadh flares their tiny wings out, golden eyes focused on everything and nothing, deep and shallow. "It never strikes the same place twice, but it sure gets everywhere," their tinny voice echoes.

Several mystical, cyan runes appear around the witch, floating down into her frame. She jerks suddenly, tensing up briefly as her feathers fluff up-- and it passes, save for the static buildup and smell of burnt ozone.

 GAME: Telamon rolls spellcraft: (9)+26: 35

Telamon shakes his head. "He's a druid. He's had a few run ins with hags, and he absolutely hates them." He snorts. "Well, granted, that doesn't make him special. But he's always up for a chat -- if you're willing to listen to him in turn."

He rests his chin on his fist, watching carefully as Slixvah does what she does. "Alright, that IS different. But still, it shouldn't -be- that hard, with someone running interpreter for you." He scratches his head. "Maybe... hm. Alright, visual assistance time. Emegar gete." The last two words reverberate slightly, as he traces a couple of gestures. Then a webwork of blue, shimmering lines appear in his palm -- something like a three-dimensional clockwork. As Telamon moves his hands apart, the clockwork opens up, as if held in mid-explosion or disassembly, the complex spell structure displayed. "When I cast, I draw down stars in the sky, the ones I need, and I knit them into a pattern. At least, that's how I perceive it."

"Sure, I'd love tha'!" Slix croons. "Love ta talk wit' 'em."

The cyan runes fade away as the magic sets in, Slix wincing as she opens her eyes wearily to watch Telamon. "It's not hard, jus' taxing," she pants. Her eyes widen at the display and leans in. "Ooh, fancy! Tha's really nifty!" A finger traces the diagram, following along it decently well, but getting lost in the intricacies. Not at that circle yet. "This I get. I can see 'ow it travels down th' diagram and pops out there," she points.

She leans back. "But fo' me, imagine tha' diagram is all blown out, waaaaaaay blown out. But then someone gets all packaged up for me, and slots it into my skull."

Fiadh continues. "Sand in the wind, entropy always falling." More runes appear.

"Awh I hate this one- grrrh...!" the egalrin sags heavily, feathers losing their luster, aging rapily and looking frail-- the runes vanish, and its like nothing happened.

"Yeah, this one is complex. I've been studying it for a while, mostly because I'm curious as to how it all fits together. There's several sub-constructs in it -- it's like four or five spells bound up in a single one." Telamon alters the diagram, simplifying it and reverting it to something more direct, the spell construct now the equivalent of a knife to cut strands, to disrupt another spell. "This is a lot simpler, though you have to know how to aim it."

When Slixvah shudders and sags, Tel glares at Fiadh. "Gods! Are you -sure- you're doing this right? That didn't look pleasant at -all-."

"I gotta figure that one out," Slix weakly smiles, watching it be morphed about. "Might help me wit' figurin' out what I do. Or at least, ta explain it ta others." She studies the simpler one. "Oh! I know that one!"

"Find pleasure in the simple things," Fiadh tinnily states. Another set of runes appear. Fall. And Slix looks... boring? Simple? The zest about her seems gone. Rune vanish, and she's back.

She holds a hand up to Tel, trying to ward him off. "Yes yes, they're doing it right, Telly," she pants.

Fiadh glares back at Telamon. "A drop of infinity is still limitless. Mortals can only harbor so much. I only give what Unmesi can handle. Surely /you/ could handle the Tapestry's Wisdom made manifest? Or would you prefer to gaze upon the stars to draw power that way?"

"Fifi, lay off him-"

"Soothing tide."

A wave of water appears and drenches the witch briefly, before she rapidly dries out. "Dick."

Telamon is not mollified, to put it mildly. "This isn't about what she can handle. It's about what it's clearly -doing- to her. She's enduring, if only for a moment, every spell she prepares." His eyes grow icy at Fiadh's remarks. "I -know- what it is like to grasp something well out of my reach, and I have no desire to repeat that experience."

"What I question is why she must endure this, and what purpose it serves. Because such experiences can make one -hesitant- to use magic, just as one will learn to recoil from something painful."

"Do you not think this is difficult for I? This exhausts me greatly until I rest. Iotas of time suffering is negligible in the great work of healing the innocent and bringing injustice low," Fiadh soap boxes. "Then you are well aware of the infinites beyond, and it is my duty to interpret it for Unmesi. I trust her to use this knowledge well. Even if it means-"

"Fiadh!" Slix hisses. Takes a breath. And slowly exhales. "Fiadh is dogshit at showin' they care-"

"Excuse me-?"

"-but its not them. /I/ accepted this. /I/ know it can be painful," she looks up at Telamon, sky blue eyes soft and vulnerable. "Before Fiadh, I was nobody, Telly. Jus' a goober bird makin' crap deals in my Aerie and helpin' Mamaw in the infirmary. I found Fiadh, broken and busted from a bad storm. I fixed 'em, barely. As they was healin', they told me all 'bout the Tapestry, and how magic works from they perspective. I ain't fast, I ain't strong, ain't hearty. All I got is my brain!" she passionately explains. "If I gotta suffer a bit ta save a lot, I'll do it in a damn heartbeat."

There's a long sullen silence from Telamon, and it doesn't help that his eyes look like there's a meteor shower in them. Stars that glitter and flash in the darkness, something there that is distinctly unhappy at what Slixvah endures time and again.

"You are more than just your magic, Slixvah. I know that's easy to say -- especially from me -- but even if I hadn't had my talent I'd still be me. Well, I might be a little different. Maybe a little less prone to stargazing." He sighs. "Every soul is responsible for their own destiny. But I don't have to like watching a friend hurt. It's not in my nature."

Slixvah stares back, hands clutching bundles of feathers on her legs. Trembling slightly from her fervent passion. Endure it as she may, it's for the greater good.

"Tell m'younger self tha'," Slix exhales soft, shoulders relaxing. "Twenty summers old, watchin' my siblings find they stride while I was stuck. I know tha' now." She meets his gaze, smiling warmly. "I know. I don' li' watchin' friends hurt either. But-! Hey! A bit of pain ta do this?" A hand rises, pulling white, ethereal strings out of seemingly no where. She tangles her fingers in them. "Gods, I wouldn't trade it fo' nothin'. I love seein' the Tapestry. Really feels like me. I appreciate it Telly, I really do. I find it touchin' ya care that much. But in moderation, I'll be totally okay. It was... just rough that one time wit' diseases."

She glances back to the students milling about. ".... you want a hand wit' gradin'?"

"It's never easy when you're young," Telamon admits. "I... had a better grasp of where I was going, sort of. But I wasn't sure how to get there. I knew what I wanted, but... I wasn't sure what the path was. And then I came here and, well..." He makes a gesture evocative of going -far- off whatever path he was following, his hand zooming wide. "If you'd told me two years ago where I'd be, I'd have suggested you give up drinking for good."

He takes a deep breath. "Alright. Please, forgive my harsh words, Slixvah -- and Fiadh as well. Perhaps my flaw is that I care too much. If it's a flaw at all -- we've all seen what happens to people who stop caring."

He watches the milling students, so young, but... potential there. The possibility of something, can be just as important as reality. "Yes, actually," he says suddenly. "I wouldn't mind one bit."

 -End Scene-

[[Category:Logs]]