Open An interesting morning

[Thomas Cosa]

He couldn't tell. Was he impressed? Interested? Awe-struck, or simply curious? Even under auristics, Keene's emotions had been dulled, but now? Thomas had struggled to divine anything from his aura, aside from what he was already well familiar with -- he wondered if perhaps it was possible to subdued your emotions, hide them from an aurist, or if Keene just naturally didn't feel as much as an ordinary human.

He was just quiet, and -- Thomas smirked, amused, as he realized -- avoiding eye contact. It hadn't been too obvious when he was casting, they had been interacting, their auras danced around each other lightly, curious, as they spoke. Now, though, he saw it. But why? Had he know what he was doing?

No, he decided. Maybe suspected, but if he had known, he would had left, or if he'd been brave, simply called him out.

"No, there wasn't an interview process," he eyed the initiate curiously, a hint of laughter caught in his throat, "The TAR, as I said before, was a master work of animation. At such levels, it isn't unheard of animations using magics," he paused, considering just how much detail he was willing to give, "In this case, the TAR used auristics, and was probably programmed with a high capacity for human and nuit psycology and various magical lores to determine the best placement in regards to openings and request."

"Tell me, Keene. Are you interested in animation?" He asked directly, noting that Keene had reacted a bit better with a more blunt questioning. "How about a deal, nothing too serious, and you can say no, of course," Thomas smiled his best kind of friendly smile. He remembered his last encounter with an initiate, and how willingly she'd played his game. Maybe there was something for both of them here, after all. "We play a little game. Exchange questions and answers about anything at all -- so long as we're capable at answering, and we promise not to lie. Does that sound good? We'll both leave this exchange all the more informed, and all the better for it, no?".

Thomas hoped he would agree -- he was playing off the curiousity he'd seen in Keene earlier. Hopefully, this would feed the flame, so to speak.

[Keene Ward]

Keene raised his brow, his frown turning into a line in favor of his surprise at the revelation that animation was capable of creating automata that were able to use magic. He found it a strange school that would not only willingly bestow sentience on inanimate objects but allow them to both learn and practice arts that were deemed far too dangerous for the majority of the world's other living beings. It was a bit of a genesis, really, to allow the product of one magic to practice another that may or may not have been available to the creator. Keene wondered if the automata were able to learn magics only known to their respective creators, or if through their sentience they became minds in their own respect to both learn and grow as any other living thing. It was disturbing to think that the little wheeled boxes had the potential to become more than simple messengers. Though, in a way, he supposed it was similar to the sense of potential any other life form had: starting from nothing and rising to whatever it could achieve through whatever means. His frown started to creep back as he considered whether automata had goals or desires, and if those where things that could ever be achieved by free will - or even if they had free will at all. The implications of the newly discovered animation were quick to pull Keene towards the philosophical and ethical considerations, though the latter more so from an objective standpoint than one of worry for what was morally correct.

Thomas continued his explanation, spouting off yet another magic - or he assumed it to be a magic - that Keene had never heard of. "Auristics" was a far more difficult term for him to discern the meaning of through etymology. Whatever it did specifically, Keene assumed it had something to do with looking at things and determining their worth - an appraisal sort of skill. The more he thought about it, the more his eyes were drawn back the the amused glow of Thomas's own. It was very possible the young man had not been looking at him using conventional means. Still, Keene knew next to nothing about most of the other magics, only that they existed. The power of aursitics was certainly something he would have to do further research on. Fortunately for his curiosity did not have to wait long, as Thomas quickly shifted his explanation into the format of a question. Keene nodded his interest, as lying to the young man was as pointless as leaving the conversation all together. He had a chance to expand his working knowledge on a school of magic capable of creation of life - or life in a sense. If Thomas was offering, Keene was not one to deny him.

As Thomas smiled, Keene frowned. The expression was, and would always be, an indication of a shadow lurking just beneath the gleam in the eyes. While he found himself growing more wary of the situation, the terms were reasonable enough. In fact, they were merely a verbal statement of what Keene assumed conversations operated under. He wasn't sure how much of a "game" it would be, but he didn't question Thomas' choice of terminologies. "Mutual edification?" Keene nodded again. Under the assumption that the question to begin the "game" was Thomas' first move, Keene offered his rebuttal, "If animation can create these... automata," His eyes drifted to regard Stranger for a few ticks as he continued, "What use do they gain from auristics?" He shook his head, letting his eyes rest on Thomas' mouth. He was still not yet comfortable with making eye contact with the man. "My knowledge of magic beyond my practice is next to nothing." The explanation was offered as a bit of a bonus, as he realized he had answered Thomas' previous question with a non-verbal response. He assumed that part of the game was not merely the exchange of information but words as well.

[Thomas Cosa]

"Ohhhh. Skipping the 'get-to-know-you's, huh, Keene?" He teased gently after the intiate, surprised at how direct Keene played. It wasn't all together wrong, however, but different. Efficient, even. Thomas remebered the young Celeste, at how they both danced around the questions they really wanted to ask, how they subtly hinted at knowing more inticing things than the next, each trying to trick more out of the other; she, despite her age, or perhaps because of it, played the way Thomas expected. The way the Citadel expected it.

And the way, Thomas now realizing, the way the Citadel expected him to play. With Keene, however, it was different. It was unsupected, disarming, and if anything, completely admirable.

But admirable to Thomas was one thing. The animator doubted very much that such directness benefitted the intiate with the undead as much as it might have impressed the living.

"Good question, though. Auristics, as I'm sure you know," he paused, trying to catch any hint of expression. "Allows the used to gleam the aura, essentially knowing the true nature of anything or being. Animation, where only a master could hope to teach a golem magic, can also inspire real sentience at the same levels. These creations, masterpieces, can not only match human inteligence and potiental, but can and do surpass both. Obviously, because of this, master-created golems can expand known disciples of magic in ways no human would think to do." Thomas continued to watch Keene's face, watching for any sign of recognition, for confusion, for whatever. Not only was Thomas using this as a way to learn more about the wardens, or even reimancy, but about Keene as well. "This, of course, can sometimes go horribly. However, the TAR is an example of something that did it's job very well. While I can't say for certain -- I haven't found any notes on it's creation -- I would imagine, like I said, that it had a vast amout of lore programed into it, like human psychology, racial dynamics, magic usage, etc. This, combined with auristics, would not only allow it to understand the whoever/whatever before it, but maybe even to understand where they would best fit, and more importantly, where Sahova could best use them."

Thomas waited for a tick, before asking his own question. "Why'd you show me your scars when I asked what magic you used?" No one else was here to be offended by his bluntness. And Keene was so direct, why should he bother with Sahovan etiquette?

[Keene Ward]

Keene blinked at Thomas's jest, the humor lost in translation. As far as he was concerned, the two of them had exchanged names and enough meaningless pleasantries to account for the natural foreplay leading up to the more desirable discussion - or in their case the trade of information. Thomas regarded him with a strange sort of appraisal, different than he had done initially. Curiosity bubbled beneath the posh exterior, and Keene found the attention to be - marginally - more uncomfortable than the searching stare. Still, if he had the chance to learn something he had yet to discover on his own, surrendering to the raised hairs on the back of his neck or the slight flutter of his stomach telling him to leave would only create a regrettably short and wasted exchange. He had passed the first wave of criticism and grandstanding, and with that out of the way, it seemed Thomas was much more open to give Keene what he wanted: knowledge. It did not come without a price, but it was a small one to pay to increase his own understanding of the magical world.

Patiently, Keene waited for the man to play his part, and he did not have to do so for long. While the explanation of auristics was brief, Keene found the magic's basic concept to be relatively understandable. It was, in a sense, a way to observe the individual djed of a being, it's "aura". He supposed it must have been something similar to the chill felt when being stared at or the strange urge to turn and run in the moment another became too aggressive. However it worked, Thomas only shared a short sentence regarding it, moving on to once more speak of the TAR. It seemed that powerful sentiences were only able to be instilled by powerful wizards, a concept that made perfect sense in a world of cause and effect. If the cause was too weak to produce the desired effect, there was little else to do but make that cause all the more strong. Keene nodded as these things were explained, his face shifting from frowns to raised brows with very little else in between. The thought of a sentience, an automata, surpassing the thought-processing power of its creature was certainly something that was of concern. Keene's face darkened as Thomas elaborated, spinning what Keene imagined - though knew better than to believe -were hyperboles.

Though Thomas spoke of the greater sentience taking a turn for the worse as more of an aside, Keene took it quite seriously, nodding in agreement. His eyes remained, as he had finally decided that the other man's gaze was something required to better determine the validity of his statements, fixed on Thomas'; small flashes of understanding or concern sparking across them, though his face remained relatively still save the slight adjustments to his frown as he both thought and learned. He found it hard to believe the TAR had done as good a job as Thomas seemed to think. Useful things like that weren't shut down for no reason. The concept of "programming", however, was entirely new to him. Thomas referred to it as a sort of implementation of a knowledge bank, a collection of information all stored in one place where the "golem" - as it were - could cross reference the inferences gathered from its subjects against its collective knowledge in order to better sort it into its most preferable and profitable position. Thomas had used the word "understand" in regards to the TAR's sorting abilities, but Keene wondered if it were more of a colloquialism that actual true understanding. If a creature of metal and magic was able to truly "understand" others, Keene found it to be, by far, one of the most disconcerting things he'd heard in a good long while.

The other man gave him a moment to contemplate what was shared before asking his own question. Turning his palms up towards his face, Keene stared down at the smooth bump of the x's that crossed his skin. "They are..." He gave Thomas a pensive frown. "Closed pathways." He took a few ticks to formulate what he would say next. Reimancy was something he had, save for conversations with Mella, never spoken about. Discussing it with a complete stranger, while not impossible for him, was not the simplest matter. He'd hardly ever thought of the magic in terms of easily communicated terms. His voice remained cool, soft, and steady, though his sentence came a bit slower and deliberate than his companion's had. "To learn reimancy, the initiate must be filled with the master's res." He flexed his fingers, the shimmering pale blue liquid rising a few inches from the skin where the "x" was attached to float in a thin layer. "The res is shoved through the pathways, the mouth, the eyes," Keene pulled the res back into his skin with another flex of his fingers. "Anywhere that it can fill the initiate's body." With the res returned, Keene turned it towards Thomas, allowing him another look if he desired. "It is then withdrawn, and if the initiate lives through it, he is then a reimancer." Staring at his outstretched palm, Keene frowned. "The scars are a reminder of one's beginnings as well as the struggle all those who use magic face." Not wanting Thomas to touch his hand, Keene withdrew it, letting it fall to his side. "It seems more... Poetic than it really is."

Having given his answer, Keene ventured another question after a few beats had passed. "In what capacity does an aura exist? How did the 'TAR' utilize it to gather the needed information about those before it?" Vagueness bothered him. While he had not shared the mind-numbing pain that came with reimancy initiation, he had simply not addressed it. There had been no glossing over of facts, merely facts left out. His delivery had not required a modicum of deceit, as Keene hardly counted it as such. Thomas had not shared all the deepest darkest secrets of his trade, and Keene had, perhaps, shared even more of his own. Trivial details such as pain were hardly anything in the grand scheme of things. He tucked his hands under his armpits as he crossed his arms to keep his finger tips from becoming entirely numb while he waited and listen to Thomas's response.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas eyes widened in bright curiosity as Keene summoned his res, his awe expressive. The cold blue liquid fascinated him in it's strangeness, and despite the brief repulsion he felt as Keene descriped the initiation, he was completely taken by it's otherwordlyness. He wondered at it's texture, and despite the general unpleasantness of having anything shoved in his eyes, Thomas couldn't help the instinctual curiosity at wanting to know what it would feel like, the initiation.

"Probably. They do certainly have a symbolism to them, though, you can't deny that. " He shrugged, nodding to the reimancer's hands. He remebered suddenly that Keene had mentioned something about pathways, but hadn't he said the eyes and mouth were what the res was shoved into? Did the initiation require the cuts to be made, perhaps to force the res in faster? Could someone be intiated into the magic without the cuts being made?

Thomas sighed, annoyed, as Keene asked his questions. "That's two questions, Keene. Your only supposed to ask one," he chided, frowning. "Although, to be fair, I didn't make a point to tell you there was a limit." He stalled, balancing on his heels as he considered. He could always force the warden initiate to pick one, but Thomas was sure that he'd never gotten Keene to speak more than just then. Perhaps allowing him the two, and with him only taking one, could perhaps be seen as a gesture of goodwill? He frowned slightly, but would someone as blunt as Keene even appreciate that tactic?

"But I see it as my own fault, and so I will answer both of yours. Just ask one next ime," he nodded, "I'm not sure I entirely understand your first question. Auras are as varied as creatures on this earth, but more, I suppose, since everything in existence has one. The general rule, I think, is that the more sentient and complex the creature, or thing, the larger and more complex the aura. Completely mundane things like rocks or, like, a wine casket would have simple auras. A divine of any nature would have an aura too large and complex to be gleamed without danger." Thomas only know just realized Keene was meeting his own eyes, "You understand, why I was confused about your question? There isn't a standard aura, they vary, just as diferent from one to another as you and I."

He wondered how to answer the second question. Obviously, he hadn't given a satisfactory answer, considering how similar this question had been with the first he'd asked. "You know, Keene, you could always ask me to dumb down my responses," he stopped, the smallest hint of a smile behind his words. "If you find them too complicated. I won't mind." He was being rude, if not cruel, but Thomas couldn't help but feel the slightest bit offended. Hadn't he just explained how the TAR used auristics? "And like I said before, that TAR used auras to better place prospective apprentices and intiates. For example, me," he motioned to himself, for emphasis, "I had worked, in Syliras under a wizard and a gadgeteer. I was far more proficent at animation, then anything with my hands, and the TAR would see this. It would immediately understand by how much world djed tied into my own aura, and compare it to the residual oils or smell of metal that my hands carried. Sure, I introduced myself, 'Hi, my name's Thomas and I want to be an animator!', but the TAR confirmed with it's magic that I was proficent enough to be worth anyone's time," Thomas considered Keene, perhaps wondering if his own answer had in fact been lacking. After all, Keene didn't seem to know much about animation or auristics, so perhaps Thomas had been a bit vague in his first answer. "The TAR was able to use auristics to efficiently place prospectives. It could understand, truly understand someone in a way few today can claim in a post-valterrian world. It knew where to put you, where you stood the strongest chance to succeed, where the Citadel could use you at your best. I don't think I can put it any more clearer," he sighed, hoping that this answer, would at least, satisfy Keene.

"But my turn, now." He clarified, deciding to turn his questioning to the more personal. "You hadn't been looking me in the eyes, earlier. But now you are, so, why the change?" Thomas asked, knowing he could always ask about reimancy later. Finding out all he could about Keene, could perhaps be much more valuable. True, he could always divine something from the warden's perspective later, but using his gnosis was sporadic at best, and even then, it would impress emotions on him, not thoughts. Hopefully Keene, in his wonderful frankness, would allow him those.

[Keene Ward]

At Thomas' reprimand regarding his overeagerness, Keene gave the man a short nod. It was true the specific parameters of the "game" had hardly been specified, but he had considered his questions to be closely related enough that it might be one. He made a quick note to keep his curiosity in check, at least terms of how many investigative proddings he employed. However, despite Thomas' frown and overall displeasure that he seemed to put forward, there was still the same hint of curiosity playing in the little glint in his eyes. It was, more so for the wizard than the initiate, truly a game, and Thomas was playing for something more than just the sake of knowledge. Keene found it odd, but without any more information, his observations were merely subjective and possessed about as much chance at truth as falsity. Thus, while it was something that intrigued him, Keene was fully aware he wouldn't be able to make any definitive deductions without information that Thomas had yet to offer. The game would have to be played if he were to walk away with any sort of abstract "prize", though his "winnings" had already been fairly substantial, despite the wizard's vagueness. "I see."

He moved on to better explain auras. Keene found the concept of them to be incredibly similar to that of djed: unique expressions of an individual or item that carried within them the essence of the material possessing the aura - or perhaps it was vice versa. Either way, Thomas' second explanation was much more clear on the nature of auras. With complexity came a larger, more powerful aura. In the case of auristics, the power of the aura was not measured in an actionable strength, but more so in a display of potential. The nature of an aura then, was individuality. No two were exactly the same, at the very least in terms of living beings. Keene found his confusion abated some as Thomas expressed his own at Keene's question. The fact that auras where as natural as djed made the magic of auristics far more understandable. It did not create the auras or manipulate them, it merely allowed the auras to be detected. It was a magic suited towards observation, understanding, and investigation. Keene frowned as Thomas met his eyes, the man's searching gaze similar to that which he'd used before, only lacking in intensity - and he met his eyes rather than looking through him. His thoughts took a short breath while he began to apply the newly acquired information: had Thomas been investigating his aura?

In transition to the second question, Thomas took liberties to offer "dumbed down" answers. At this, Keene raised a brow. "If it were simple, I wouldn't be asking questions." His voice had no underlying intent. He quite literally meant exactly what he said. Such nuances as implied disdain or condescending subterfuge were usually lost on him, all the more so when he was interested in what was being said. The small smile that played in Thomas' voice tinted his reply, but Keene was far more interested in the answer than the man's amusement, though that was duly noted and temporarily put to the side while he concentrated on what was being said. He kept his eyes focused between Thomas' dark-set visage and the small movements he made with his hands as he explained; his own face remained relatively passive as the information was accommodated, though interest was something that was hardly concealed in the brightness of his eyes despite the concentrated frown.

He used himself as an example, offering more about himself than Keene had requested. He wondered if the man was simply happy to share his own information without request, or if he thought to gain favors through it. Either way, Keene was perfectly content to learn more of Thomas. Free information was, most times, a treat he was hardly ever able to come by. Though in the case of the game, it was less free and more of a bonus to something he had already "paid" for. Thomas spoke of the city of Syliras, the castle of knights that was a regular trade partner with Zeltiva. Keene had heard of it before, and he was well aware it had been where Mella had been born. He had asked her once why she spoke so differently from the vast majority of the Zeltivans, and she had replied that the "petchers didn't know the proper petching pronunciation of shyke" which was then followed up by a very short summary of her journey out of the "petching Syliran shyke hole". Thomas, however, seemed to think of the city as little more than a passing phase he had already moved on from, and how far he'd made it: a wizard on the island of Sahova. There was a confidence about him as he spoke of himself, something that Keene had long ago been taught to be one of the more dangerous facets of practicing magic.

From what Thomas said, he was an animator, and from what Keene had deduced, he was also an aurist. The further explained nature of auras along with the very important verb of "see". It only served to solidify Keene's growing suspicions that Thomas had been magically examining him. Once he had finished with his reply, Thomas gave him a critical look, clearly stating there wasn't much more he could say on the subject without explicitly repeating himself. Still, it had given Keene a relatively firm comprehension as to why Thomas seemed so infatuated with the TAR. "So it gave you a chance." It was something even he could understand. The island of the sleepless was hardly a pleasant place for Pulsers. On top of that, ability and skill were the most valued things, and if one did not possess enough of those things one was considered nothing more than a waste of space. The TAR had been able to perceive just exactly how Thomas could be used, and that use had been in a capacity which Thomas was now - from the way he spoke and carried himself - something the man was proud of. Though that pride may have already begun to teeter over the line towards narcissism, Keene was not one to judge. He had failed to see it before, and he doubted he possessed the inherent knowledge to do so then.

The irony of Thomas' next question was completely lost on both individuals: Keene because he took things more at face value than anything else, and Thomas because he was not privy to the inner workings of Keene's mind. Keene took a few moments to consider what he would say. He decided, as he usually did, that the most direct answer was the most preferable in almost every situation. "When we met, earlier, you used auristics on me, did you not?" He supposed it was more of a question. Shaking his head, Keene raised a hand to signify he'd played a foul and attempted to remedy his blunder. "Your gaze was... Intense." His eyes met with Thomas', remembered discomfort tucked at the corners of his down turned mouth. "And you made this face." Keene's usually inexpressive features quickly scrunched into a loose mimic of the one Thomas had contorted his own into. Holding it for a tick, Keene let his face blink back to normal. Wild expressions were not something he was used to, nor were they anything he planned to employ in the future, as they were also very uncomfortable. "I am not accustomed to being greeted with..." He paused, knitting his brow as he tried to think of an accurate word to express what it was he was trying to say. "That." He finished lamely.

Keene shook his head, his voice still calm and soft, though there was a hint of remembered discomfort as he stopped to shrug, his grey eyes holding the other man's black gaze. "You asked what changed, so I supposed my answer would be: you." His eyes traced over the man's face, looking for any sign of rekindled magic - or if he were wrong, which he supposed was possible, any hint of the previous intensity. As he'd asked two questions prior, and had prefaced his answer with yet another question, Keene let his words end with his final answer. Thomas had been quick to catch each and every one of Keene's mistakes. He wanted to give him no extra reasons to gently berate him now. He preferred their discussion to revolve around an exchange of information, not a continual repetition of Thomas redressing him. So, he waited for the reply, ready to listen to whatever Thomas had to say about the matter. If he was wrong, he was certain it would be the first thing the man would share with him.

[Thomas Cosa]

Thomas snorted as Keene mimicked his expression. Had he really been so obvious? "And you didn't laugh at me? Such manners, Keene," he laughed, airy and quiet. It wasn't the full, hearty sound of an honest laugh. It wasn't contagious with joy, or sincerity. It wasn't real.

"I would have laughed. I mean, I just did, didn't I? I haven't heard you even chuckle," He noted casually, a hint of a question rolling after his voice. "I don't think I've even seen you smile," Thomas wondered loudly, making a point to phrase it as a fact, not a question. There was a coldness to his voice, now, a predatory interest in his eyes. "He's too reserved. Too quiet. Even his aura was absurdly still," the animator thought, knowing now there was something too different about the young reimancer.

Keene had said that he changed, and he had -- he had tried to seem nicer, friendlier than he was. Thomas had expected Keene to become more open, to talk, to do something. But something was off about the young man's behavior, and he was going to find out exactly why.

"I was using auristics," he swallowed, noticing his throat was oddly dry as he once again tapped into his magic. It summoned quickly to his call, drawing from his center, and busting the world into a sensory smorgasbord. "I'm using it now. Would you like to know what I see?" He asked, his focus pulling around Keene, his aura in plain view now.

[Keene Ward]

His response was hardly expected. Keene's frown stayed in place as Thomas' airy laughter slipped from between his lips, filling the Vestibule with the hollow sound. At his statements, Keene only gave a shallow shrug. "I don't laugh." It was a true statement. In the past - the distant past - he could almost remember the giddy feeling of laughter bubbling up from him, but in his current life, there was little to laugh about. What others seemed to consider humor, Keene only saw as a peculiar event, a waste of time, or some statement of something clearly happening already. "And there is very little worth smiling about." He doubted Thomas disagreed. The emptiness of his own laughter was enough of a clue for Keene to understand that the face had been hardly as amusing as the wizard would have liked him to believe. Or, perhaps, he had never thought to truly feign amusement, as his intention had hardly been hidden. He was a curious man, and Keene had no reason to not find him as such.

Thomas' admission of his use of magic was hardly much of a vindication, though Keene was quick to notice the change in the way Thomas' eyes moved over him as he continued to speak. It was less uncomfortable than before, the knowledge of what he was doing filling the stare with an understood purpose rather than an ambiguous intensity. Keene's brow raised as his frown faded some. Thomas had offered to share with him how he saw his aura. He certainly did, but he wondered if it would be any different from how he imagined it would be. Dull, restrained, perhaps a small amount of interest here or there; Keene doubted it would surprise him. Still, he had no way of knowing without Thomas' help, though the man had already proven himself to be not quite the most reputable source: his demeanor had changed over the course of their discussion, and he was not one to abstain from needless smiles. Whether Thomas told him the truth or not, Keene decided that he did indeed wish to hear what he had to say, if for no other reason than to compare it with his own idea of what it might be like.

Before he replied however, Keene's brow knit in thought. "Did you not see it before? How much could it have changed?" He thought the questions valid, even if they had once more moved outside of the rules. Choosing to rephrase it into a single inquiry, Keene tried again. "Why would it be different?" His curiosity was guarded, but he continued you. "Tell me what you see." It was hardly a command, merely a positive response issued in the form of a statement. Thomas, for all of his strangeness, seemed to be content with Keene's preferred mode of dialogue: directness. He wondered what the animator's aura would look like, or even feel like. He imagined it had a coldness to it, a calculating sort of chill that ran deep into his core. Hardly an aurist, Keene imagined the auras to be something similar to the appearances of ghosts, swimming and swirling with a gently throbbing pulse of life that the wraiths lacked. He waited for the other man's replies, his eyes set on those of the wizard's.

[Thomas Cosa]

Keene's aura didn't dance like most; any moment caught was subdued, dampened. Everything seemed submerged beneath the initiate's cold, exterior. He struggled to catch any glimpse of emotion strong enough to pierce the levels of control Keene seemingly possessed. Curiosity, though, seemed more of a characteristic than emotion, at least in Ward's case.

It glowed, dully, hints of warmth caught under the ice of the warden-to-be's composure. It wasn't the momentary bubbles of a passing fancy, no shiny bobble or fast shadow the cause of such a permanent thing. It tainted his aura opaque, golden and warm and hungry. Keene wasn't the icy stoic he imagined himself, or at least, his self didn't match the face he wore. There was a way to draw out the student, the learner, the desperate seeker. A way to turn Keene into something more useful than he was at the moment.

The question was, though, how?

"Aura's change," Thomas answered simply, "The very nature won't, and probably from the last two ticks we were talking that I hadn't been casting, I doubt much has changed really -- but they do. Your emotions change, the things that stick to your aura lessen after time, things like that." Thomas answered, not entirely sure if he'd answered satisfactorily. "Not sure if I cleared that up, but you did ask two more than the alloted one question, Keene. You may ask two next time if the answer wasn't to your satisfaction."

"You're terribly good at keeping your emotions bottled up," Thomas began, only the slightest edge to his tone, "Or maybe you don't have the range of feeling most people do. You could be broken, you know. I've heard that happens, sometimes," he shrugged, "Some people just can't handle Sahova. You wouldn't be the first," Thomas added casually, a slight curve mangling his smile into a smirk. He was pushing Keene, now, wondering what got a reaction out of the austere reimancer.

"So, your aura doesn't give away much. That's what makes it so interesting, of course" He noted, breaking off for a moment to take in the senses that doused Keene. The smell of something acrid, smokey, wafted off the still aura irregulary -- perhaps it was wearing off? It was certainly less noticeable than before, but not by much; Thomas wondered then, was he actually smelling something that had rubbed off on Keene? Maybe something Ward had touched? "Your curious, although whether it's more of your nature than actual emotional response I haven't decided yet. Otherwise, you seem rather reserved. Dead, almost, I'd say, if it weren't for that little beating pulse that told me you have a working heart." It couldn't have been something he touched with his hands, Thomas decided, his focus moving to the youth's extremities only to find the same brittle cold from before. He smiled; there, there was a question he could ask.

"And then there's this cold. I couldn't decide before, was it a emotional cold? Was I seeing your distant nature, your general quiteness?" He paused, eyes flickering over the reimancer's body, hungrily looking for something else, a brief lapse in Keene's control, any bit of emotion that could help guide the conversation into something more, still remember to be direct, but to subtly lead -- or at least to try and not be so loud as to wanting to discover what he could use out of Keene. "But, then, I realized now, it's colder than before, your physically getting colder. Which, wouldn't be so much of a surprise, really, but you're cooler than someone alive would be. You're colder than me, anyhow."

Thomas sighed, "But I could go on. Really, I could. Instead, though, I'll ask you. Why so cold, Keene?"

It was vague, he realized, and might lead Keene to lie. Hopefully, though, he would catch it if he did -- but he wasn't so sure he'd be able to.

[Keene Ward]

Thomas took his time with his reply, his eyes moving over Keene in a strange platonic intimacy that Keene, even with the knowledge of what the man was doing, still found uncomfortable, though this time he forced his gaze to hold with the wizard's. With his auristics active, Thomas was nearly impossible for Keene to read, as the minor twitches or expressions the man employed seemed rather arbitrary as he studied him. Thus, Keene had to content himself to wait for the explanation, as no proper hint could be gleaned from the man's nonverbal communication. Instead of saying anything more, Keene pondered why exactly the man had been so open to the sharing of information. As things stood, Thomas had given him quite a bit more in terms of depth and reach of knowledge. Keene supposed the initiation process into reimancy was something of a valuable secret, but he was fully aware there were quite a few nuit capable of an explanation beyond Keene's capabilities to define. He wondered if perhaps the man's interest was less in his magic and more directed towards him - Keene -, though that seemed unlikely. Thomas was, like the majority of those who inhabited the citadel, a player of games. What his goal was, however, like everyone else who played similar games, Keene had little idea. He wasn't even sure if he would understand if he did know.

Thomas' reply was both informative and yet another reprimand for breaking the rules with an exception that he might do so again if he did not fully comprehend the answer. What he said, however, was incredibly informative. It seemed the aura was comprised of several different influences: the basic foundation that - for the most part - remained static as an identifier, the emotions, and whatever experiences had happened within some undisclosed window of time. He found the short explanation informative enough to be content as he mulled over what an aura might look like. Thomas had used the word "stick", so he assumed it was something that might have a perceived mass, perhaps a billowing or furry quality like fleece, picking up everything it passed and adding it into it like some strange collage of life's experiences. Or, perhaps, there were images floating like little projected memories, though Keene found that a bit more unlikely as Thomas had seemed to react to him in a similar fashion as anyone else. If the man had been able to see his thoughts or past experiences, he doubted Thomas would have been so open to conversation as he had been.

Thomas continued on to describe Keene's aura. It seemed accurate enough, though it was something that he felt anyone could determine after spending only a few chimes with him. He disagreed that he did not feel as much as the average person; he simply chose to disregard it more often than not. There were few useful emotions in the world, and the only ones strong enough to break through his grip were those that were truly debilitating. There was little point in grinning like an idiot or sobbing like a fool over the most simple of things. There was nothing broken about about wanting to simply be efficient in mood as well as practice, though Keene did raise a brow at the suggestion. A slight glint of challenge sparked in his eyes for a very brief tick before he simply shrugged, offering Thomas no answer on the subject. The island had certainly been an experience, and he felt changed from his time upon it. There had not been, however, a point during which he had felt himself break - at least not while he was upon the soil of the sleepless Sahova.

As Thomas once more commented on the muted quality of Keene's aura, the man took a moment to draw in a deep breath, his gaze - if it were possible - intensifying. He hadn't expected Thomas to describe his aura as "dead", though he supposed he wasn't entirely unsurprised. The Nuit were incredibly efficient creatures - in theory, at least - and if his aura was similar to what he imagined theirs to be, it was more of a compliment than anything else. It did, however, make him much more curious about a typical aura of what Thomas might consider a "lively" or "living" person. The wizard didn't seem particularly put off by his observations, interested surely, but the mention of Keene's heart being the only real indication that he was not, in fact, a walking corpse seemed more a curiosity than anything else. Keene found it curious as well, focusing on that fact more than the obvious statement that had a disposition for interest and pursuit of those interests. He'd never given much thought as to whether his curiosity stemmed from emotion or was written into the most basic of his djed, but Thomas gave him little reason to ponder it any further than the question. He was much more interested in what Thomas still had yet to say.

Again, Keene found the discussion of his temperature both emotional and physical to be a subject far from what he had been expecting. He blinked, unsure how to respond to the question. He knew he had been more sensitive to drops in temperature than he had been, though he'd never really given it much more thought beyond his adjustment to the climate change. That Thomas found his actual temperature to be noticeably lower than his own gave Keene a short pause for concern. He wondered if it was a side effect of his extensive use of ice in his magic, the chill of his spells had been a surprising development once he'd begun to truly delve into the para-element, however he'd never stop to consider that it might have had long term effects. He frowned at Thomas' question, the vagueness open to interpretation. He supposed he owed the man a fair amount of information, though in what areas, he couldn't decide. A few ticks passed while Keene thought, eventually deciding to simply state what he could regarding the aspects of cold Thomas had outlined for him.

"My emotional coldness," He started in his smooth, soft tone, "Is simply who I am. I can't think of a cause for it." Again, with little reason to lie, Keene continued at a steady pace. "My body, however, may be suffering the effects of overgiving." He raised his right hand, staring down at it with his pensive frown, flexing the fingers yet feeling nothing. He was certain the numbness had been from pushing himself too far, but it had been a gradual enough process, he couldn't pinpoint when exactly it had happened. If the cold were something similar, he doubted he'd ever come to a true conclusion regarding its origins. He raised a brow, finding his next question, but waiting a moment before he asked it. He offered Thomas a bit of extra information regarding reimancy's overgiving as his replies had been lacking in any real substance. "Releasing too much res can had negative effects on the mind and body, side effects of using one's djed to manipulate the elements." He gave Thomas a few ticks to consider what he said before moving on to the next question. "Do other magics run the risk of overgiving?" He was aware that shielding by its very nature simply stopped working if the mage was to overgive. Knowing so little about the other disciplines, Keene wanted to make sure he also knew the limits as well as the abilities of the other schools.