Jonathan Strange (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kingsroads) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2017-12-07 08:22 am
kingsroads) wrote in lostcarnival2017-12-07 08:22 am
Entry tags:
[open] december will be magic again
Who: everyone!
When: the evening of D15
Where: A small meeting hall on the moon, close to the portal to the carnival
What: a whole bunch of show-offs meet up to show off their magic, people interested in magic come to learn about said magic, and other people show up to see if something inevitably gets set on fire. (aka mage club)
Warnings: none so far, will edit if needed.
The meeting hall is a large open space, with hardwood floors and a rustic decor. A few chairs and tables are scattered around, though there aren't enough for the amount of people who'll hopefully show up. Some food has been set out: mostly finger foods (tiny sandwiches, fruit, veggies & dip) though there are some savory options and plenty of home-baked cookies, courtesy of Rin. Drink wise, there's water, hot chocolate, hot tea, and a few bottles of wine because tipsy magic sounds like an awesome idea and this is what happens when the alcoholic makes the dinner menu. Aside from the food table and the few tables, there's not much of anything in the room: plenty of open space for showing off or getting out of the way of someone who wants to show off.
One of the doors of the meeting hall leads to the outside. There's a wider, 'backyard' sort of area with plenty of room for people to cast magic as large and impressive as they want. A fire pit stands outside also for warming your hands and other fire-based magic. Please don't set the building on fire.
This is all very informal. If pressed for details, Strange would have told anyone to just come whenever, stay as long as you like, and so on and so forth. The emphasis is on learning about each other's magic, displaying one's skills and talents, and helping anyone who wished to learn magic decide on a path for them to take.
Showing off is just a given.
( ooc: This is an open mingle log! Feel free to make your own top-levels & tag around! )
When: the evening of D15
Where: A small meeting hall on the moon, close to the portal to the carnival
What: a whole bunch of show-offs meet up to show off their magic, people interested in magic come to learn about said magic, and other people show up to see if something inevitably gets set on fire. (aka mage club)
Warnings: none so far, will edit if needed.
The meeting hall is a large open space, with hardwood floors and a rustic decor. A few chairs and tables are scattered around, though there aren't enough for the amount of people who'll hopefully show up. Some food has been set out: mostly finger foods (tiny sandwiches, fruit, veggies & dip) though there are some savory options and plenty of home-baked cookies, courtesy of Rin. Drink wise, there's water, hot chocolate, hot tea, and a few bottles of wine because tipsy magic sounds like an awesome idea and this is what happens when the alcoholic makes the dinner menu. Aside from the food table and the few tables, there's not much of anything in the room: plenty of open space for showing off or getting out of the way of someone who wants to show off.
One of the doors of the meeting hall leads to the outside. There's a wider, 'backyard' sort of area with plenty of room for people to cast magic as large and impressive as they want. A fire pit stands outside also for warming your hands and other fire-based magic. Please don't set the building on fire.
This is all very informal. If pressed for details, Strange would have told anyone to just come whenever, stay as long as you like, and so on and so forth. The emphasis is on learning about each other's magic, displaying one's skills and talents, and helping anyone who wished to learn magic decide on a path for them to take.
Showing off is just a given.
( ooc: This is an open mingle log! Feel free to make your own top-levels & tag around! )
Jonathan Strange | ota!
Some of those savory options are eggs. Strange has left some of the more elaborate egg dishes alone but he's inhaled at least a third of any hard-boiled eggs that were brought and, unless stopped, will probably eat the rest of the dish. So, he's got a peeled egg in his hand as he wanders around the room, checking to see who's here, making conversation with practically anyone, and chatting up magic to whoever'll let him.
To his credit, Strange is an attentive listener whenever someone starts talking about their magic. He's just not so much an attentive listener when the conversation shifts somewhere else.
As people enter the room, Strange descends upon them with the practiced smile of someone accustomed to hob-nobbing. "I'm glad you could make it. We've coat racks in the corners, drinks on that table in the back. Feel free to stay as long as you like!"
two: outside
Strange isn't drunk drunk yet, but he is on his second glass of wine. Now that everything's (hopefully) running smoothly, he feels comfortable enough to relax and have a drink or so. He's going to moderate himself tonight: half a bottle at most.
He's outside near the fire pit, warming himself, as he looks out onto the snow. Undoubtedly some of it's been trampled down by people running about, doing fun snow magic, doing fun fire magic, and so on and so forth. As such, the area looks a little sad right now.
"I can put down a new layer of fresh snow if you think it'd be best," he says to whoever else is outside by the fire pit. This is simply Strange trying to be helpful! Not him blatantly showing off at all! "It would certainly make the space look more scenic."
2
"No thanks," Lambert answers, amiably. "I've had plenty of 'scenic.'" He may no longer be half rock, but he's still bundled up against the cold, though he looks to be in a less sorry state than he was when his soul was poisoned and all he literally did was hang around in his cabin breathing fumes.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
OUTSIDE
He skirts the mage for a while after that, but catches sight of him again outside. Strange has perhaps neglected to include 'doing fun blood magic' in his mental roster, but there's evidence of that, too. Foster's not-so-little magic circle has been bled on a few times by this point, and there are red both bright and dark stamped into the snow with the charcoal and mud.
Simply approaching to strike up a conversation is... exceptional, for Foster, but sometimes...
It seems to be happening more often to him lately.
His approach is actually totally devoid of the 'conversation' part, though; instead of speaking, he stands somewhat aside of Strange, regarding the man silently askance.
Smiling.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
two
At the question, he shifts to look the man over and raises a brow.
"The weather is incapable of providing it?" he asks dryly. "Is your specialty snow then?" And he sounds both curious and skeptical. Surely anyone offering to demonstrate something with snow would think to do something better.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
one!
"Is there something I should be doing in particular, or...?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
CARLY NAGISA | OTA
Carly, partial hummingbird that she is, is doing what she normally does when free food is involved these days. Hovering at a minimum of three inches from the ground at all times, she zips back and forth along the various places where food has been laid out, stacking snack upon snack onto her plate. She only occasionally munches on something....but she's definitely stock piling for one reason or another, and eventually she can be seen sitting at the side carefully bundling her plate within a scrap of fabric.
....What.
[OUTSIDE]
Out in the relative darkness, it's even easier than ever to see Carly's extreme changes. It is as if a rainbow streams and flows from her body, filling out where feathers would have been on her wings and tail, flitting out in small streams from the various 'holes' formed between fae marks in otherwise marble-like feathers and skin....Even her hair moves from black to 'light', and in the darkness? That stands out a lot.
So does her fire. Right now, she sticks with her 'Demon Fire'; a solid violet, with a core of orange at the center, she holds a small ball of it on her hand and nods to whoever might be watching.
"Okay... I'm all ready, and I've got my snacks for after~! Who wants to see a show!~"
Oh so that's what the food was for.....
INSIDE and late as hell
He's refilling... something or other, when he spots Carly wrapping up food in a piece of cloth]
Dude, you takin' a doggy bag to go already? The party barely even started!
YELLS THO
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Syrlya | OTA
It's a loose affair, which suits Syrlya just fine for initial introductions. Perhaps if enough of them were dedicated to make it a formal gathering they could, but this is a vacation.
He doesn't stick to one side of the area if he's not engaged in conversation, although he's also not helping himself to much food. He's more interesting in half-eavesdropping and magic theorizing. At one point, though, he stops at one of the festive bouquets at the end of the table that's looking droopy. A few of the blooms are withering, and a couple others have yet to open.
There's a moment of pause before Syrlya moves to gently touch his fingers to the stems. The flowers perk up quickly, standing straighter and blooming wide open again. He doesn't make the dying blooms ones any less wilted, but they stand up stronger than before for what life is left in them.
[Outside]
For most of the evening, Syrlya hangs to the side and watches all the other demonstrations with full attention. Some of them he's already seen, but there are many more magic users than there are nightrunners, and seeing what is all very different forms of magic with very similar results is interesting. And when there's something completely different, he leans forward with particular interest.
He'll still demonstrate what he's capable of, but only once asked. Otherwise, he's content to be the spectator.
OUTSIDE
But Syr...
Syr did not actually make an immensely good impression on Foster, back at the manor. It's nothing he specifically did or didn't do--even with brain damage, Foster is capable of assuming that if Syr had known that box was filled with an infinite supply of magically venomous spiders, he wouldn't have opened it. But the end result of that misadventure meant that Syr held them up, and Foster has very little patience at the best of times, so waiting while everyone else worried about the plant man's survival, or whether or not to amputate his arm, was... a distinct mark against him.
And yet.
It was Syr who traversed the rosethorns to coax the artefact itself to his withered arm. And it was Syr's magic, not Taako's, that helped maintain their invisibility. In more ways than one, Syr's magic had seemed to functionally mirror Childermass', but with the added advantage of... Syr not being Childermass.
Which means that at some point, when Syr is attempting to move away from some mage or other, he'll turn around and find Foster directly in his shadow, blue eyes fixed on him unblinkingly.
"Hello."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
outside.
But she notes Syrlya -- off to the side, not demonstrating, but watching. That's unusual enough -- everyone seems to be incapable of showing off a little. And she's curious, too; magic doesn't work the same for her as it does in other worlds, it seems, where magic is a choice and not something one is simply born with. Having swung her staff back onto her back and her hilt attached to her hip, Lavellan makes her way over to him, nodding once she gets close enough.
"Come just to look and learn?" There's no harm in that, and her voice doesn't imply a level of judgement if he's going to give a positive answer. This is one thing she's more than willing to encourage and promote -- simple curiosity about a thing she loves, no matter its form.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Foster van Denend | OTA! (CW: Necromancy)
Foster is here to learn, not to.... to advertise, or show off. He avoids the food, all of it, very pointedly, but hovers around conversations and watches demonstrations with a kind of bright-eyed intensity that's always paired with an uncanny smile, or else manages to be accompanied by absolutely no facial expression at all.
His preferences are pretty obvious--flashy offensively oriented magics lose his interest immediately; long preparations or potion-making processes similarly disinterest him. If your form of magic is instantaneous in process, though or you're taking a really long time to explain something...
Foster really only has two things he likes in this world.
Instant gratification and excruciating puzzles.
Which one are you?
Outside
As per Strange's request, Foster has exiled his magic to the outdoors, where his blood will be absorbed into the snow and moon soil. He is actually reluctant to explain much, but will at least demonstrate the basics if asked. He's brought with him a lidded bucket, with mice in it.
His reluctance has multiple layers to it--some of it is simply an unwillingness to reveal the particulars of what he views as his magic, the one skill or knowledge that gives him any distinctive use, especially in light of the Carnival's surprisingly competitive magical environment. He doesn't like to reveal secrets under the best of conditions. It's the one thing he can generally be relied upon to do. Or not do, really. So asking about his magic will prompt him to open the bucket's top, making eye contact with whoever inquired about it as he reaches inside, swiftly trapping a little fawn-furred barn mouse in his curved ursine claws. He'll hold it like that, its tiny head pressed between the flatter sides of two black claws.
"Are you sure?"
[OOC Note: Whichever prompt you pick, he'll be wearing this with no jacket.
His arms are furry, it's fine.]
Outside
He takes a seat in the snow, even with his somewhat casual yet crisp attire on, and will rest a cheek into one hand to watch. His eyes are ever attentive to the point where he reaches into the bucket and retrieves the poor mouse in question to when he holds it in that callous way with an intent fixed for something rotten. There's an odd yet satisfying grin on his face as he's in a cheerful mood like always, "Mmmhmm. Carry on."
HI SORRY ABOUT THIS, DESH.
CW animal death, self-injury and blood. It's necromancy, okay.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Cw for... gross?
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Inside
What's a little more surprising is the shirt.
So when he turns up right in front of Lambert -- who hasn't been demonstrating any magic, up to this point, not even the spell he'd used to solidly punt Foster into the lake before -- his immediate reaction is a loud, obnoxious laugh. No hello, no greeting, just straight into that slightly-derisive cackle that manages to sound entirely at someone else's expense, as most of Lambert's amusement seems to be.
"You actually wore it!"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Rita Mordio | OTA, will match formats
"All right, listen up. I'm going to demonstrate some blastia magic." Rita stands outside in a nice open space near the hut, perfect for destructive magic. She points to the red-jeweled choker she's wearing. "This here is a blastia. It's a device that converts aer into magic energy. By applying a formula and activating it with a chant, an ordinary human with the right knowledge can use magic... like so."
She takes a spellcasting stance, a magic circle drawn in red light appearing at her feet. "O seething fire, be as a holy beast to devour the wicked...! Flame Dragon!"
A large ball of fire forms in the air, growing larger until something bursts out of it: a serpentine dragon made of pure fire, wriggling in the air, fangs flashing. Though it never touches the ground, the snow beneath its path melts from the sheer heat coming off of its body. It flies in a circle to show the observers, then turns upward, soaring up toward the sky and dissipating into smoke.
Rita dusts her hands off in a self-congratulating gesture. "If anyone wants to know more about blastia magic, I'll have a book on the subject finished soon. Or you can ask me." As the onlookers start to wander off, Rita lingers, standing with her arms folded. Now might be a good time to talk to her.
(b - being nosy)
Naturally, Rita's here to see what others can do as much as she is to talk about her own knowledge. She gravitates to as many demonstrations as she can catch, notebook in hand, making notes and sketches... some might even catch her whipping out a video camera and filming.
But sometimes, she seems to take interest in people who aren't showing off... or at least, not at the moment. With her third eye, she notices something magical about the other person... perhaps it's some kind of energy within them, an aura, or a sense of something magical in an object they're carrying. Whatever it is, Rita will stare very pointedly. However gifted she is with magic, she has no such gift for social graces.
(c - wildcard)
I'm open to other scenarios! Rita will be around, watching other people's demonstrations intently, sometimes with a video camera in hand, sometimes with a notebook. Occasionally, she can be found lingering by the refreshment table or sitting by the fire pit holding a hot chocolate with both hands.
b!
"I believe you have a new spell to show me." And Strange's tone of voice is just excited as hell. Out of all the magicians at the carnival, Rita's one of the more skilled in his eyes. If she's pieced out a new spell or gotten a new type of magic to work then no matter what, it was going to be impressive.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
b
On. Off. On. Off.
"You aren't bored already, are you?" He asks, without looking up. Even if she'd tried to be stealthy, which she wasn't bothering to be in the first place, he could hear her anyway. "I thought you'd be all over all the other mages around."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
A
"So that is your magic technology you were mentioning before? Your blastia?" He tilts his head to her collar. That talk feels like so long ago, and he'd be more surprised to realize this is his first time seeing her cast magic if it wasn't that she wasn't a nightrunner.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
A
The implications of her blastia were great if he could find a way to replicate it. Chants were not part of his brand of magic though not uncommon when attempting to persuade spirits to aid in spells. Those could be taught if he could find an easier way for the elves in his command to cast spells.
He waits until the dust has settled before he approaches her and gestures to her choker, ] So this draws out the inherent magic in one's self? I would be curious to read this book, if you intend for it to be finished soon.
[ Because if it works for humans surely it would work for elves. They were the more magical race where he is from. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
b.
At first the staring doesn't register -- she's used to being the subject of scrutiny -- but then it doesn't let up. Lavellan frowns, and while she can't achieve a full disapproval of arms crossed while missing one of them, but she can cross her arm across her chest, raising a brow as she nears the teenager.
"If you have questions, I believe the purpose of this is to ask them." She's just saying.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
B!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Lambert | OTA
"You want to add some kick to that?" He wiggles the bottle at them meaningfully.
Otherwise, he isn't doing much magic demonstration of his own, content to sip at the cocktail of faerie ale he's cut with wine as he mingles with everyone else. While he does that, a marbled polecat sits on his shoulder, her fur restored to its golden, lustrous shine. It's woefully evident she's no ordinary animal, as inevitably in the middle of a someone else showing their magic off, she'll pipe up cheerfully.
"Have you got anything flashier than that?" She's pretty clearly looking to egg them on.
no subject
"You look a lot better," he grins. He hasn't seen much of Lambert since they got here, probably because Yuya's spent most of his time in the snow and Lambert's spent most of his time avoiding it. "Are you going to show off your magic?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
childermass, ota
Invisible. Kind of. The spell is more of a "don't look here" kind of spell, prompting people who do look his way to grow disinterested in whats there and look away again, never quite retaining that, yes, someone is there. It works well enough on the mundane but not always versus those who also happen to be magically inclined.
Strange has called him out on it before, lurking in the shadows, hidden from the casual eye, but how many other people in the carnival can do that? Well, he's here to test that out. With how many more magic users they've picked up lately, it'd be nice to know. So with a sharp enough eye, anyone can notice the magical impulse to forget Childermass is there and carry on with their business. It doesn't necessarily apply to only those who are magical, either, but also those who can figure out and be irritated by the fact that they can't focus on one entire corner of the room.
Time to see just how many people call him out on it. He'll at least refrain from rudely taking notes (aside from mental ones) as it happens.
no subject
Lambert says it quietly, because if Childermass is making an effort to be unnoticed he's not going to go out of his way to drag him out of it until he figures out whether the entertainment value of it would be worth Childermass's irritation. It's not through any magical means that he's picked up on the magicians presence -- with so many spells going off, his medallion is a constant hum against his chest, so that would have been impossible to pinpoint -- but his more distinctly non-magical senses. He leans against the wall adjacent to Childermass, and it's obvious enough he still can't focus on him, since his gaze still keeps slipping past the general direction of where the magician is standing, the witcher's brow furrowing slightly.
But he's absolutely confident he knows exactly who it is standing in that corner, sight unseen.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
tyki mikk | ota
If he was completely honest he would say he didn't come here to learn or really show off. He had shown up for the information and mostly the social aspect of having a lot of like minded individuals all in the same room. He had a spent the better part of his first month in the carnival distracted either by learning the area or being caught up in the manor.
Anyone that had seen the entrance to his performance as a Magician will already be aware of his ability to walk on air. He's not exactly floating as much as he is just standing on it as if it was solid under his feet. Occasionally he'll be merely a foot off the ground or high up to get a better look at everyone else showing off their magic. Even when he eats the finger foods here and there he'll perch himself someone off the ground to lounge about. He could flaunt his own powers but more than half of them were rather dangerous inside and just as destructive outside. Last thing he needs is to accidentally destroy something.
Yet the moments he feels like showing off more his hand will extend, palm up, outwards with a wide grin, "Go on. Take my hand." It's a smooth tone with all the deception in the world. Good luck because the moment anyone touches his hand they'll find they can't make contact with it at all. Also, it might feel a bit tingly.
[That Tentacle Problem]
It was all Mari's fault. Ever since he had the first hand experience of watching Mari turn Sans' tail into a tentacle there were rare moments that whenever he thought about it, combined with how useless having one might be, an odd sensation would start nagging at his back. The first time a tentacle had manifested Tyki had honestly no idea what its purpose was. Ever since his arrival within the carnival changes had started forming in his body but these tentacles never stayed around for long.
It's only within these group of magic users does he eventually come down from the air and picks a comfortable spot on the ground. He had the idea of going to Strange or Childermass, the only two magicians he really knows, at first for advice but after the proposal of a magic club there was perhaps someone else with more expertise in summoning. With eyes closed and an open mind he focuses on the image of them, letting his own Dark Matter and energy flow through him towards his back. It's not long that two large tentacles start stretching outwards into the air. Black and grey, scaled with the edges of spines extending outwards instead of suckers, they flesh out nicely. It's only when one of them suddenly latches onto one of his small manticore wings and jerks it does he break his concentration.
There's a pained noise and a jerk of his hand in its direction, "Oi, knock it off." He can't exactly control them on his own.
tentacles
"When did those happen?" he asks, gesturing at the tentacles with a small frown. Strange isn't touching them, but his hand goes out towards the tentacle like he's going to touch it for a moment. And why can't Tyki control them? That 'knock it off' to the tentacle implied that there wasn't that much control over them to begin with—but they grew out of Tyki, how could someone not control something that grows from them?
Needless to say, Strange is staring at the tentacles in a very confused manner.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Inside
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
TENTACLE PROBLEM. late as fuq
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Herbert West | ota
Eventually, he approaches someone the moment they're by themselves.
"Excuse me," he says, and sets his pencil to paper if they turn around. "How would you describe, your magic's methodology, or function?"
This, of course, excludes Foster, who he holds his gaze with briefly but doesn't approach, and Strange, who he looks away from dismissively upon any eye contact.
no subject
When he's approached with that same question, he raises a brow at the man and stares him down. At least he could appreciate those who were inquisitive though there was something odd about the approach.
"The function of it depends on the user," he says in a very vague non-answer before continuing, "Magic takes a variety of forms. From control of the elements to providing aid. It is a way to shift the world around you."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Sora | OTA
As good of a teacher as he was at swimming back a few months ago, though, he's less great at teaching magic. He'd picked it up almost instantly when he'd started, and it's difficult to wrap his head around why it might not be working. He's patient and kind, of course, but... maybe not what someone first learning magic needs.
Maybe someone with more experience should help him out.
no subject
"Hey! You have flame magic too. This place is a real fire hazard... We should have brought some buckets of water."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
five ( ota )
She's brought Seven, her new winged lapine pet, along with her, but Seven takes one look inside and decides she'd much rather hang out outside on the roof until Five's done with whatever thing she's doing. The creature seems to have attached to her well enough that it doesn't like going far from her, so she's not worried about her flying away. "I'll check on you in a little while," she tells her before going inside.
inside
Five takes up residence not in a chair, but sitting cross-legged on top of a table with a mug of hot chocolate and some cookies beside her while she watches the magic go on around her. She stays fairly quiet, but for the occasional round of applause... Which, if there's not one happening immediately after whatever neat spell has just gotten pulled, she'll happily start up all on her own. She doesn't mind being the only person clapping.
Her eyes are bright, and there doesn't appear to be a spell one could do that she wouldn't find cool and fascinating. She's, frankly, in awe, and loving every minute of being here.
outside
Eventually, she goes to the backyard-like area outside and finds Seven to check on. She whistles and the lapine comes down to flap in the air beside her, long tail flicking happily. Five feeds her some food from her hand, just some veggies, before the animal takes off again in flight - making large, slow loops above the whole area, with the stars as her backdrop.
Five hums quietly, thoughtfully, dropping down to sit near the fire pit as she keeps her eyes on the sky.
"Is there magic that can make people fly...?" She's mostly wondering out loud, but it's spoken loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.
outside
"There is," she answers casually as she seats herself near the fire. The flying creature catches her notice briefly, but she then turns to look at the other girl with a slight shrug. "Levitation, at least, is possible with my magic."
Of course, considering how Rita has a full-sized pair of feathered wings growing out of her back, one would think she wouldn't need that sort of magic these days.