[open] december will be magic again

[kingsroads]

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! )

Comments

[whattaprick]

"I don't get drunk easy," Lambert laughs outright, sharp teeth flashing as Lavellan coughs on her drink. It's more or less what he expected, and no matter how many times he's pulled this prank today, it never gets old. That she's taking it in relatively good spirits is a mark in her favor as far as Lambert's concerned.

"You get used to it." And to prove his point, he raises his own glass spiked with faerie liquor and takes a generous gulp. Well, get used to it or get blind drunk in a hurry, but he's been careful to measure out an amount he's reasonably sure will lead to more entertaining results than unconscious magic users left and right.

"So what do you think so far?" He nods at the gathering. "Learn anything new and useful?"

[dirthena]

Creators, she'd hope he didn't get drunk easily if this is what he was drinking. Or else someone was going to have to scrape him off the floor at this rate -- and she eyes the skip he takes warily. Tiny sips for the remainder of her glass, Lavellan decides, if that. It would be enough to keep her from going and getting a refill, at the very least. "At least it makes you easy to shop for," she says, taking a far more hesitant sip of the drink -- still unable to help making a face at it as she considers his question.

"That mages, no matter the world, enjoy showing off." Not that she was an exception to this, and the amusement in her eyes and tone indicate she's more than aware of it. "And we like to talk about ourselves to great length." Also something she's quite guilty of, although no one has yet to call her on it here.

But he asked for new and useful. "That there are forms of magic one can use without being born to it." That was new, and she was curious to know how that would mix with her own.

[whattaprick]

Smart plan, Lavellan. She catches on quick.

"I'm easy to please," Lambert shrugs. "At least when it comes to gifts." He doesn't have high standards, at least not when it comes to himself. Work, however, is another matter entirely. Though on her comments on mages, the witcher grins.

"Excellent observational skills. You're scout material after all," he says, the humor he says that with suggests he's being full of shit right now and he knows it. Yeah, he knows all about how mages love showing off, and you'd need to be blind and deaf not to notice. That's the point.

"Is that how magic is in your world? Something you're born into?"

[dirthena]

A snort of laughter at that, and she casts an eye around at everyone. "Well, I suppose someone here must be." Because it most likely isn't going to be any of the mages within the building, or without. Another careful sip -- perhaps working for someone again wouldn't be as much of a slight to her pride as she thought it would be.

"My Keeper would be proud to know I'm expanding my role," she quips, and there's a small twist of pain that flashes across her face the moment the words escape her, as if the thought of it is not as pleasant as it might have been. But Lavellan shoves that thought to the back of her mind for the moment.

His question is easier to answer, and she nods. "It is a happy circumstance of birth, although not all would agree." But Elera was First to her Keeper, and has only benefited from her inherent magical ability.

[whattaprick]

"Your 'Keeper'?" Lambert echoes, brows raised. He doesn't miss the expression that clouds her face for a moment, but he elects not to remark on it. The line of conversation he chooses to pursue instead probably isn't much better, though.

"The ones who get possessed by demons probably wouldn't." He shrugs, offering explanation for that little tidbit before Lavellan can ask. "I heard you talking to Strange on the radio. How often does that happen?"

[dirthena]

Ah, she supposes it would be a weird term for someone unfamiliar with the Dalish, Lavellan thinks, taking in the raised brows. "It's what the Dalish call the mage that leads the clan. I was First to the Keeper of Clan Lavellan -- her apprentice. The title is simply because the Keeper 'keeps' our culture and our history." A little clarification never goes awry, as far as Lavellan knows.

His question makes her pause, thinking. She has no actual numbers, of course, but has had more than one run-in with an abomination. Along with all of the lectures by her advisors on the risks of letting the mages she'd allied with go free. "Enough that half of Thedas is so scared of magic they'll throw their mages into towers to forget about them." A very unkind statement, but one Lavellan can't see as unjustified. "Children and those untested and untrained are the easiest targets for possession, but even the most wary mage can fall prey to an especially clever demon."

i assumed the arm was noticeable, but let me know if you need anything changed up!

[whattaprick]

So she was a leader back home, of some sort. The mention of 'clans' puts him in mind of Skellige, and the closely-knit communities that populate those islands, and now that he thinks of it, her name wouldn't sound out of place there either. The Dalish are her people, Lambert can figure that much from context -- but it's clear she isn't from his world, or she would have recognized what he was quickly, as everyone else seems to.

In any case, what she's saying is more interesting to him than dwelling on something else, and he cocks his head briefly, inquisitive.

"Charming," he grimaces. "Is that how you lost the arm?" It's hard to say whether he's asking about her getting thrown into a tower or potentially having gotten daemon-possessed. Either is more than possible, and the tone of his voice is more professionally curious than anything else. He can't quite guess if it's a recent injury or not, not without seeing her doing something more strenuous than choke on a drink, but if it's recent and she wanted a prosthetic, they're for once in a place that it wouldn't be terribly difficult to.

it is very noticable, you're good!

[dirthena]

Her arm? Oh-- How strange it seems, to have attention brought to it when everyone in Thedas knows she's lost it, and vaguely how. Her smile turns rueful, and she shakes her head. "No," for it doesn't matter which one he's asking about -- neither of them are correct. "Its loss was an unfortunate side effect of my last job, but a necessary one to save my life." It had crumbled into dust after Solas had left her kneeling in the dirt, the Eluvian growing dim and the pain almost too much to bear.

A final gift, as it were.

Lavellan is finding that achieving a balance between grateful and bitter is harder than she thought. But if they're asking about each other's past, Lavellan is curious enough. "What about you? What did you do before joining on?" Willingly or unwillingly, as the case may be.

[whattaprick]

Infection, is what Lambert assumes, or some other mage-specific ailment. For now, he won't press for details. Though in Lavellan's position, he's not sure he wouldn't rather choose death. He's never heard of a one-armed witcher surviving the Path for long.

"A witcher. Monster hunter, curse breaker. Got its share of side effects, too." If it never ended in an actual maiming -- though the claw marks along his face suggest something tried very hard to blind him. "I'd say the Carnival's a step up, though I can't promise you won't lose your other arm too."

Cheerful, but he's also being realistic. After all, at their last stop one of their coworkers actually ate another coworker's arm.

[dirthena]

Lavellan is silent for a moment, trying to decide what about him is an unfortunate side effect of his profession and what is just simply part of being a member of the carnival. The teeth, perhaps? But then again, everyone seemed to have their teeth changed. She could ask, and perhaps she would. Later.

"And no one around to help it grow back?" A joke to hide the concern that flashes in her eyes. She's already shoving off a conversation of what next, when you return Lavellan knows she needs to have with herself -- losing her last remaining arm with no prosthetic would be one more blow that she's not certain she knows how to deal with. Something to worry about should it come to pass.

After all, Lambert's job sounds far more fascinating. "We could have used one of you in Thedas, I think. Less curses and monsters and more demons, but I assume the skill set is transferable." Said with the implication that if he'd liked to expand upon what he means by 'monsters' and 'curses', he'll find a willing audience.

[whattaprick]

"There are a few people who've lost an arm around the carnival. They didn't exactly grow it back, as far as I can tell, but they did get replacements. You'd have to ask them about that." Lambert shrugs, lazily. He can point her in the right direction, possibly, but he doesn't have much more information than that.

"Does Thedas pay its demon hunters? Because I don't work for free." It's a bit mercenary, sure, but start helping everyone and you'd surely never stop until all the teeth fell out of your head. "Don't run into many demons where I'm from, but if it dies to silver and fire, I can probably handle it. It'd be a nice change of pace from clearing nekker nests and drowners, or getting my face clawed by harpies."

[dirthena]

A replacement. It isn't the first time the thought has come to mind, but Lavellan has been hesitant; there is something satisfying about the lack of her arm, the way eyes flick to it back in Thedas. This is what I lost, this is what saving the world cost me, and let them not forget it. The Warden is off wherever she needs to be, and Hawke is-- lost. Lavellan is the only one left, their only reminder that there is a price to be paid, and the ones making the damn fool decisions aren't the ones who are going to suffer for it. So she goes silent about the arm, but it doesn't last for long.

His question makes her laugh, and she shakes her head. "I'm not sure I ever did. I did get a fortress out of it, if that helps?" One that came with far more baggage than Lavellan had thought previously -- the place where the sky was held back indeed. But Skyhold was a good castle, it served her well. "They die easier than that, if those are the only things that can wound what you're up against." And wasn't that a thought. "What are each of those like, if I can ask?" And is getting his face clawed at by harpies how he managed those scars?

[whattaprick]

"Depends on the quality of the fortress," Lambert answers back, smartly. "If it's more than its worth to put back together, it sounds more like a chore than a reward."

And he should know. He's lived in one for a good chunk of his life. Nonetheless, at being prompted to talk about monsters, he'll launch into the subject in earnest:

"Nekkers are nasty little bastards About this high--" He indicates about the level of his knee. "--mouths full of teeth, and there's never just one, so when you see one you should start looking around for his friends. Drowners are slimy, green, strong swimmers with a taste for flesh. Harpies are mostly made of feathers and spite, and smell like shit."

He says it all plain and matter of fact.

[dirthena]

"I had help repairing it," she admits, with a small grin. "But it otherwise seems to be one of the most defensible fortresses on Thedas." And it was Solas's once, which means that while it looked Fereldin, it was once Elvhen. And even that much was enough to endear it to her, beyond that fact that it was her's.

She's allowed to be a little possessive, Lavellan thinks. At least when it came to Skyhold.

Her brows can't help but raise at his descriptions. "And let me guess: this is only a small sampling of what you have to kill as a monster hunter." Well, she can't say that it doesn't hold a candle to high dragons, but it sounds more exciting than wolves who've gone mad because of a demon.