And There Was Nothing

Alses v Thomas round 2

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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And There Was Nothing

Postby Thomas Cosa on May 24th, 2016, 1:36 pm

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Thomas barely managed his surprised at being grabbed by the time Alses had dragged him out of the library, away from everything leather-bound and ink. He was a bit sore to see it go, the whole effect reminding him of the Great Library even though Alses' own was considerably lesser and drenched in sunlight. He sighed, almost. Hearing her mention an animation lab boosted his mood from nostalgia into a nauseous mixture of jealous and excitement, and the wizard quickly dismissed any comparisons between the Citadel and Elysium Hall.

Not even in the privacy of his own thoughts would he allow her such a compliment.

The animator was both surprised and comforted at seeing the emptiness of the hall, although he did color visibly with a soured jealousy; the shear size of it was impressive, and would allow for any number of miraculous creations should she ever display a talent for animation (which, of course, he hoped that she wouldn't). Thomas doubted even his own ability warranted a space so accommodating, but he allowed his mind to wander for a tick or two, uncharateristically obedient as he fetched as free chair to sit. He couldn't be bothered to spit out a careless insult or two when he was bothered with a imagined mountain of animation fantasies only waiting to be realized.

And with a space like this, he thought, he could do it all.

"Ah, yes, the one thing this place seems to not be lacking is space," Thomas said dismissively, relaxing into a smaller copy of Alses' own chair. It was blue and disgustingly comfortable, a waste to have something so luxurious in a place of magic in his own opinion, "And true enough, we wouldn't want to upset the library or it's things," he muttered, phrasing it purposely to sound suggestive, although it was, perhaps, the most sincere thing that had made it's way out of his mouth all day. A wizard's home could be as moody as they were, an animator's especially, skilled or not. He wouldn't disagree with her decision to move to a emptier area.

"All things check out, yes. An instant of madness, fountain, yes, everything that lead to my inability to cast seriously without the threat of being banished to Avalis knows where," he sighed, tired of the constant reminder of his own stupidity. Whatever had caused him this anguish, he'd long since promised to deliver them or it the place that had since become his own waking nightmare. "And correct, too, to the preceding cold and portals to nowhere," Thomas shrugged, mindlessly tracing the perfect seems of the armchair.

Thomas hesitated as he considered her questions, careful to answer each one as best he could; despite himself and his natural inclination to lie, it was in his favor to be as honest and descriptive as he could, at least until Alses proved unworthy.

"More a flat plane, but there is a curve, sometimes, that hints that perhaps I could summon a sphere had I any control, which I don't. At least in their appearances," he admitted through his teeth, the honesty almost painful. Thomas was an extremely stereotypical wizard in that he would rather be subject to torture than divulge the secrets of his own magic, especially regarding his own limitations. "I can managed to dismiss the portals, but only just. Sometimes they blink out only after they manifest, a magical hiccup, but other times they linger far beyond comfort. Eventually though, I've put them all away, but as I've mention, I don't exactly control them as much as suffer their existence. Who knows if there ever will be one I can't get away from," he confessed, his mask of courage slipping from his face.

"And while they do seem random, these episodes, they do seem to have happened more often when I use magic. Well, personal magic, at any rate. I haven't risked using world magic since I discovered the fountain's perversions," Thomas mouth soured into a frown, obviously unhappy with his lot. While he might have celebrated a sudden magical initiation on Sahova, here it was a blight. Even more unhappy, Alses might prove the only one with answers, and he wanted so desperately to not be in her debt.

"I can cast, then, on your ready," he nodded, hardly needing encouragement. Thomas was used to letting his Auristics flow freely into the world, and having caged his magic was upsetting him more than he imagined it would. Whatever freedom it could have here, Thomas would take advantage of it.

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And There Was Nothing

Postby Alses on July 7th, 2016, 3:02 pm

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Alses considered Thomas carefully as he answered her questions, watching the play of emotions across his face and soul both, the jealousy and envy her cavernous laboratory engendered, the well-hidden fear and the hatred of admitting weakness, others.

It was encouraging that there seemed to be none of the usual signs of even a well-polished lie, no tiny quickening of the thrumming heartbeat, no prickling pearls of perspiration beading his forehead, and a part of her relished the obvious humiliation that the man was feeling. He was no friend of hers – but not an enemy, exactly, either, she reminded herself, and felt a small spike of shame for delighting in his misfortune.

We do not abide clutter in a sensitive laboratory,” she replied tartly. “A habit begun out of necessity and maintained out of a healthy regard for our own skin.

She nodded attentively as Thomas confirmed her answers, thinking hard about the information he presented and how it might be dealt with. On the one hand, it was a shame that Elena Lariat had shuttered her mansion and departed to travel the world for a time; her expertise would have been most welcome. On the other, however, Thomas would simply have approached her, rather than go to Alses herself.

So it was an ill wind…

At least you can dispel them, even if not as reliably as you might wish,” Alses noted, voice light even as she processed this bit of tentatively encouraging news. “That provides – or should provide – a basis from which to work. And you are quite right to worry about disfigurement or discorporation; rogue portals killed my first mentor,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “The aftermath was not pretty.

Her quill skated across the paper elegantly, Alses letting her will roll out into the world, shaped and tamed by her understanding of Glyphery, morphing that unformed desire into ornately elegant runes that mirrored their purpose onto the ambient magic of the world. These were circles, interlocking and intersecting, not a straight line to be found anywhere in their sinuous, baffling forms: shielding and warding glyphs, designed to deflect, drain and disperse magic, to disrupt purposed djed and spin it back into the warp and weft of the world – without damage.

Writing these glyphs was not easy; she worried at her lip absently as ink shimmered and danced before her eyes, forcing her will and her attention down through her hand and the elegant geometries of the forming runes, looping over and over into and over and through one another in patterns which tugged and teased at the eye and brain, seeking to confuse her even as she wrote them into existence.

Go ahead,” she murmured at length, having written enough to – hopefully – defend herself, in the event that Thomas’ range was rather greater than he’d let on. Or that he knew, she added, in the spirit of fairness; magic was capricious and almost-alive at times, and there had to be the possibility of the unplanned.

In your own time. Please cast until you have a portal that remains for longer than a few ticks, or until you’re in danger of overgiving, whichever comes sooner.” She looked up, expectant, from her paper-strewn desk, not writing anything for the moment, all her attention focused on the rail-thin young mage sitting in the centre of her lab.
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And There Was Nothing

Postby Thomas Cosa on August 9th, 2016, 3:03 pm

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His magic bubbled at her go ahead, popping and stirring angrily inside, defiant at his refusal to cast and desperate to taste the outside. Thomas shivered, touched by a long abstained pleasure, the whole of him warming, electric, buzzing. Auristics wasn't his study, but personal magic filled him with a primal joy, power and command, offering a ready hint of complete awareness.

His spell spilled out from him, rolling over his body. Suddenly, Thomas knew each and every budding drop of sweat, his every hair, broken scars and bitten nails. His body was a book, open and wide, his bones heavy lights, connected and sturdy, muscles, weak and neglicted, burned soft lavender. There was more, his body screaming under his magical gaze, but everything was beyond his grasp, his own body was beyond his understanding. His inability to grasp the mystery of himself was an insult, obvious and gross, his magic responding to his offense.

His spell buzzed, electric and wild, burning everything with a desire to know and understand. It wrapped around, his own aura, pricked with worry and cold with an unwelcomed fear of his own power, played a small defense, but eventually it fell to his own spell, broken and shallow against his Auristics. Thomas, for a brief second, was alight with pride, pure and yellow and floral, that even his own aura bowed to his spell craft.

Thomas breathed, a pathetic attempt at holding calm, his spell stumbling over itself, wiping the floor for magic and more, the tiniest bits of purple power swept under him. He tasted the familiar fires of animation, lively and orange, warm and alive. It was basic, the work of a novice, but welcoming all the same. He caught the old echoes of chalk, circled and glyphed, his mind flashing with memories of his past creations, of Stranger, of the others he left to the Citadel.

He wondered, momentairly distracted, if he would ever see them again.

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with a cold, it seeped from inside, unnatural and damning. "It's hap -- happening. The p-p-p portal," he stammered, flushed with embarrassment and fear, his Auristics flopping wildly, free of his control, desperate to seek the source of his panic, desperate to squash it.

The void popped into being a few feet from Thomas, small, but growing. It was flat, nothing but a finger-width. Within a chime, it was fist-sized, obvious and empty, it's complete absence washing Thomas of any control he could muster. It was hungry, a slight pull, only seen through magic, not strong enough to be a threat, but worrisome all the same. He watched it for a few ticks, quite until he was completely the sure it had stopped growing.

"They don't always pull," he said, quite and confidence swallowed. There was no stutter, but he spoke like a child, abandoned and alone.

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