Solo Idle Hands

[Dariel]

2nd Day of Winter, 512 AV Dariel strongly disliked sitting idle. Even on a day when he had no pressing concerns. No, especially on a day when he had no pressing concerns. Certainly, he needed sleep and rest as much as any other human being, or at least nearly as much. A lifetime of deprivation before coming to the City of Stars had taught him to make do with little of very much anything. Which was why his idle hands were about to drive him up the walls of the small cell he inhabited. Or did they? Since arriving in safe Lhavit, the young mage had been at leisure to develop his social skills some and to work on his Auristics. He had however almost completely neglected his offensive potential. Knowing that he would not care to remain here forever and knowing how bad that world beyond the Amaranthine Gate could become, And other than being armed, what little he could must in the way of an offensive lay in his gift with Projection. A gift the Old Crow had been wary to nurture, as he had been wary with any overtly offensive magics. The old fool. He should have been worried when Dariel took to Auristics like a fish to water. Knowing people's hearts was a more powerful talent than being able to shred them. Even if that would be nice too. Would he be able to do that if he kept practicing? Right now his power couldn't even strangle a mouse and his control of his detached hands was crude to say the least. Of course, crude control was at least a start. It was more than he knew to do with the rest of his body. In short, Dariel saw nothing but weaknesses when he looked at his abilities. And until he was allowed into the Bharani Library or managed to find a teacher, there was only one way to improve himself. And, he thought, coming full circle, his hands, his actual flesh and bone hands, would dangle idly all throughout. He seated himself on the bed, legs crossed. There was no reason to risk anything. If something went awry and he keeled over, he had no intention of making love to the wooden floorboards with any part of his anatomy. Resting his hands in his lap, he called out to his inner strength. Just as he would when summoning forth power for his Auristics, only that the melody was a different one. And so was the result. Endowing himself with the sight beyond sight required him to focus his Djed and concentrate it where it was needed. As the name already replied, Projection was the opposite. It required him to exude the Djed. Letting it seep from his hands as if they'd been cut by a thousand knives was easy. Willing it to realign in the phantom shape of the limb it stemmed from was another thing entirely. But unlike bleeding his Djed it was something he could force. As his intellect wished to tell him to steel himself however, his instincts interfered. Maybe that was part of the problem. If he forced his tools into shape, would they be cruder than if he took the time to gingerly assemble them? If he went out of his way to gather each and every droplet of Djed from his pores and constructed the aetherial hands from the inside out, would they be more functional? He would have to try.