[How many instances of magic are in that overstuffed bookshelf of hers? How many dangerous things just waiting to be unraveled...?]
Your options are limited in the prison. But you can try to learn from the others the same way you're trying to learn from me now.
[As much as she can garner from this one experience -- he isn't exactly sure how much she'll pick up, as assured as she was to make this technique her own.]
Physically, you may as well be in a trance. And for me to remain focused, I might as well be, too. Any interruptions in the outside world on my end would sever this outright.
[Better hope nothing sneaks up on them in the canteen! It's probably fine.]
I'm in your head as much as you are in mine, going through memory... Though you did tell me to limit it to the observatory, so I haven't been privy to much.
[ meaning, this is more or less analogous to concentrating on a spell. her brow clears; she conjures her floating peacock quill and starts scribbling this down on a piece of scrap. it's that same unreadable language as her other works ]
And you standing here, is this "real"? If book fell on your foot, would it hurt? Would injury in here affect you out there?
That depends on what you consider “real.” Anything experienced here is valid. Pain, pleasure, all of it.
So for your example: yes, it would hurt. But I wouldn’t have a bruise on my physical body correlating to where you were clumsy enough to have dropped a book on me.
[There can be physical ramifications, of course. Of the murdery sort. But best not to address those when they do not apply.]
[ as if she's pursuing pleasure within her own mindscape when there's magic to be learned. well, that's a pleasure all its own. and it's the one she thrives from.
she does not drop a book on his foot. she DOES come over and squeeze his arm, experimental ]
This is not happening in physical space, but I cannot tell difference. You were right.
[She can take that as a rhetorical question if she likes.]
You can cast magic in the context of this memory. You can do whatever you like in your own head — but the “real” you out there won’t be doing anything at all. Remember that.
Top shelf, on left... [ trails off. he'll figure it out. in the meantime, she works the claw of her thumb into the cork and pops it ] If nothing I do in here could convince you to let me out, should you not wish it, then I suppose I ought to do my damnedest to endear, hm?
[ making light of something that absolutely terrifies her? more likely than you think. ]
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[His brow scrunches, ever so slightly. He did not mean to cut with that remark; sometimes, he cannot help it.]
I didn't mean it like that.
[He offers the scroll back to her.]
We all have things we regret leaving unfinished.
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rolls the scroll back into a tube with the practiced ease of someone who's done this a thousand times. back into the overflowing bookshelf it goes]
I am going out of my mind without these things. I need to be engaged! I want to learn, for my power to grow.
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Your options are limited in the prison. But you can try to learn from the others the same way you're trying to learn from me now.
[As much as she can garner from this one experience -- he isn't exactly sure how much she'll pick up, as assured as she was to make this technique her own.]
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Right! Tell me more. What is happening now? What are you doing to manage this?
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Physically, you may as well be in a trance. And for me to remain focused, I might as well be, too. Any interruptions in the outside world on my end would sever this outright.
[Better hope nothing sneaks up on them in the canteen! It's probably fine.]
I'm in your head as much as you are in mine, going through memory... Though you did tell me to limit it to the observatory, so I haven't been privy to much.
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And you standing here, is this "real"? If book fell on your foot, would it hurt? Would injury in here affect you out there?
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So for your example: yes, it would hurt. But I wouldn’t have a bruise on my physical body correlating to where you were clumsy enough to have dropped a book on me.
[There can be physical ramifications, of course. Of the murdery sort. But best not to address those when they do not apply.]
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she does not drop a book on his foot. she DOES come over and squeeze his arm, experimental ]
This is not happening in physical space, but I cannot tell difference. You were right.
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Of course I’m right. I know how my own abilities work.
Impressed?
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[ #stillnotoverit ]
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How long are you going to stay angry about that?
[It’s been like 2 days, Henry.]
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Now. Can one cast magic while in this state?
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[She can take that as a rhetorical question if she likes.]
You can cast magic in the context of this memory. You can do whatever you like in your own head — but the “real” you out there won’t be doing anything at all. Remember that.
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finally she casts another look across the room, back towards the ?bed? in the corner, half-hidden.
...
why not. slinks over and crouches down, reaches underneath ]
In that case.
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He follows, halting just a few steps behind.]
Keeping something hidden?
[Under her? Bed?]
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Mirrors her expression.]
Better than the cheap beer.
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Why not? I’m already here.
[Give him a moment to locate said cabinet and rifle around for two glasses. Clinking noises undoubtedly ensue.]
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[ making light of something that absolutely terrifies her? more likely than you think. ]
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Hoping to loosen my grip on your mind through ingratiation is a new one.
[He could comfort her by saying that he does not intend to keep her as a prisoner in her own mind. But he doesn't.]
But wine's a good start if that's your plan.
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