[The Sunken Conundrum] Drowning the Will (Hadrian)

[Cadence]

Title: Drowning the Will Timestamp: 36th of Winter, 510 AV Location: The Sunken Conundrum Participating Characters: Hadrian The water was stagnant, reminiscent of a piece of a block of ice rather than actual liquid. It was clear and free of the dirt and dust that may have been expected to contaminate it. No matter how many books were opened with a puff of dust particles, none of them ever made it into the water, disappearing as soon as they made contact with it. That was the way Hinrance Morcer liked it, and that was the way it was going to be while she ran the Sunken Conundrum. And Miss Morcer was quite sure that she would be running the library for a very, very long time. She was committed to the library body and soul, spending almost every minute of her life within its walls. However, on one particularly cold Winter morning, she was not to be found behind her desk in the corner by the tallest bookshelf. In fact, as far as patrons of the library could tell, she wasn’t in the library at all. Not that there were many patrons present. Only two people sat at the library tables. A boy of about sixteen was busy flipping through a large book and jotting down notes in a notebook that remained perfectly dry. In the opposite side of the room, a tall, blonde man was idly running his hands over a shelf of books. His long, elegant fingers would pause once in a while over a particularly interesting title and then continue their exploration. Every few chimes, one book or another seemed to be worthy of his interest, and he would brusquely yank it out of the bookcase and flip through it. The man was dressed in an expensive-looking mustard-colored jacket and a pair of black, pressed trousers. His black shoes practically shone with polish. A crisp white shirt peeked out from underneath the jacket, the top two buttons opened to create a careless effect that wasn’t careless at all. High cheekbones augmented the man’s face, and a long, aristocratic nose protruded from it. The man pulled out yet another book from the shelf, gracing it with an entire five chimes of his attentions. The worn, brown spine of the book read The Power of Gaze by S.L. Tenent. The man’s fingers hovered over the pages as he read, and his perpetually bored eyes appeared to take on a note of interest. When five chimes were up, he replaced the book on the shelf, putting it between Thesis on the Long-term Effects of Hypnotism and Practices of Pre-Valterrian Mind Wreckers. For a second, his gaze flickered away from the bookcase and swept across the library. His eyes narrowed slightly and an unidentifiable fleeting expression flickered in his face. Then, just like that, the mask of leisurely boredom, mild amusement, and slight contempt slipped back across his features. He turned back to the shelf of books, obviously intent on choosing something from this particular section, but not finding exactly what he wanted. He began touching the spines of the books again, his lips slightly parted as he mouthed the titles to himself. It was just the two of them in the library – the aristocrat and the young student. Or, perhaps not. The Sunken Conundrum seemed to be attracting all kinds of attention this morning. If Hinrance Morcer were to return to her library, she would be quite vexed by the sight of three guests. Wherever the Head Librarian was, she would shudder to think at the damage three males could do to her precious collection.

[Hadrian]

This was not Hadrian's first time at the rodeo; that is, the Alvadan library. The first time, he had taken it on faith that the building's magic would preserve him in its watery environment, and indeed he had grown gills cutting through his intercostal muscles that somehow didn't impede his movement. On his second visit, he had morphed his own set of gills, and the building's magic had left him to it. This time, however, he had paused outside the building, concentrating on those same gills in miniature, up and down the sides of his throat. It was more delicate work, for certes, but he stood out of the way of the entrance and was careful to keep a thin membrane protecting his gills until they were all but complete. He remembered his dissection of the fish gills in Sahova when he was learning the basics of Malediction from poor, mad Tieh. He kept the memory of the library-granted gills in his mind, and the step by step process he had followed to recreate them on his own power. This time he went more slowly, more carefully, attempting to put the pictures in his head together while changing the location of the morph. When the air pressure on the membrane grew almost painful, he stepped into the library, simultaneously morphing seams in the membranes that parted and allowed water to rush in. And he could breath... But that had merely been his entrance. Since that time he had found a book on hypnotism, Windows of the Soul by Yr Maugham, and had found a table upon which to study. Time had passed, the Head Librarian wandering off when he wasn't paying attention to the people around him. An idle thought passed through his head at some point, wondering whether the water was illusory... This spurred him to focus his djed down along his arm in order to create a faintly glowing, gel-like reservoir of res in the palm of his hand, then used it to call to the water all around him, watching how it responded to the magnetic attraction of his water-keyed energies, letting it slide around his hand like some animate jello mold, toying with the watery environment. It became a half-hearted game after a while, his fingers slowly undulating while the res slithered between them like a tame animal, causing swishes of water to flow around, occasionally rustling the page he was on. This continued as he read. When he looked up, there was a young man taking studious notes and some sort of aristocrat that would probably have been friends with Hadrian's father if they were in Syliras. He considered for a moment, and then focused his mind upon the back of the blond head of hair, thinking, Look at me with all his might. Nothing. Turn around, was his next attempt, throwing everything into the simpler command. Nothing. Perhaps this book was less helpful than it had seemed. Then again, most disciplines could be learned faster and fuller with some sort of a mentor. Finally, frustrated, he through everything he could into a simple LOOK! It never even occurred to him whether he really wanted some stranger in Alvadas to take notice of him.

[Cadence]

The man’s shoulders tensed, his hand abruptly dropping away from the bookshelf to rest at his side. For a few seconds, he just stood there, staring obstinately ahead of him. Then, he began to turn around slowly. His movements were lazy, as if he could hardly be bothered to make such a laborious effort. He held his chin raised in what could be perceived as a challenging manner. His hands had slipped into the pockets of his jacket as his gaze snapped up to stare directly at Hadrian. He moved through the water brusquely and gracefully, very much resembling a prince about to grant an audience to someone usually below his notice. He stepped up to Hadrian’s table, one hand dropping casually on the back of a chair across from Hadrian. Cold, blue eyes assessed Hadrian for a few seconds before the man spoke. “Good morning. Did you want something?” the man asked coolly, a note of blatant superiority coloring his every word. Before Hadrian could reply, he continued, “Whatever it is must be very important, if you’ve so easily lost control of any manners you may possess. Has anyone ever told you that it is more polite to approach people physically rather than mentally?" The man arched a pale, blond eyebrow, a corner of his lips turned up in a smirk. "Or perhaps you’ve never been taught any manners at all," he continued thoughtfully. "Your kind rarely is.”

[Hadrian]

When the man tensed and turned around, Hadrian immediately began to tell himself that it was coincidence rather than a causal relationship; that he should not pat himself on the back for something that was likely no accomplishment at all. The man's dapper finery as he approached, though, made Hadrian wish he had brought more changes of clothes on his journey. Perhaps a part of him had thought that the powers of illusion would immediately be his, that he could walk around like the emperor with his new, invisible raiment, possibly before the ship even docked at the city of illusions. Now he felt the sort of inferiority with which he had long ago dissociated himself, at least vocally, but perhaps the mores of his family had stuck more than he knew. He was jealous too of the man's grace in moving through the water, though that was just the icing on the cake; Hadrian had never been graceful. Only his equations and enchantments had any sort of elegance. His fingers, long, tapering artist fingers, curled underneath themselves, knuckles hiding chewed up fingernails that were suddenly embarrassing when normally he didn't care if he had ink stains on them. His mouth opened to speak, then snapped shut with a click of his teeth. He had to steel himself against letting the man's manner rile him up, but then what he said stunned him out of hand. "It worked?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Perhaps he should have tried it on the young, studious man, but appearances could be so deceiving in Alvadas. Perhaps that would have been more dangerous, after all. Now his next thought was to hope this man wasn't a master hypnotist who would vindictively take out his ire on Hadrian and his honest, if stupid, mistake. "I apologize," he said, sincere without being servile. He was too excited to be too upset, but he hadn't meant to upset anyone, and there had been no malice to his attempt. He wished he had read the chapter on protection from hypnotism before attempting to hypnotize someone, even for something so simple as to turn around and look at him. "I do apologize," he continued, reverting to the etiquette his poor, dead mother had drilled into him when he was young. "Mortified. I honestly didn't expect it to work, not from reading a book and focusing. I assumed I would have to find a teacher before any efficacious attempt could occur." Remembering those manners, he continued, "I'm Hadrian Aelius, most recently of Syliras. I assure you, I meant no harm and humbly beg your pardon."

[Cadence]

The man scoffed wordlessly at Hadrian's surprise, regarding the other man with cool, disinterested eyes. A lazy smirk tugged at his lips at Hadrian’s apology, and his shoulders relaxed fractionally. “What exactly do you think worked, Hadrian?” the man asked contemptuously, assuming the right to use Hadrian’s first name with no preamble whatsoever. “That clumsy attempt of yours felt like having my head bludgeoned by a rather heavy, dull club. Not that I would expect anything more refined from one such as yourself, mind you.” The man fell silent for a moment before obviously coming to a decision. He tugged at the back of the chair on which his hand rested, pulling it out unceremoniously. Once he was seated across from Hadrian, the man continued to study him, his blue gaze gaining a contemplative edge. “I decided that I will accept your apology, mostly for lack of anything better to do. I am Stefan Carrick.” The man leaned back in the chair, loosely crossing his arms across his chest. “So, that mental club whith which you so skillfully nudged me was your attempt at hypnotism? Or was the clumsiness intentional?” “It’s quite interesting, really, that you should be here practicing hypnotism,” the man continued blithely. “It was my intent to read up on the subject here as well. Tell me, have you learned anything of interest?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian tried not to let the man get a rise out of him with his barbed words. After all, he did have a right to be upset, but Hadrian was now trying to keep a smile off of his face. A club? Well, subtlety came with practice, of course, but it was nice to know that his mind was strong. Personal magics came much more slowly to him than the more cerebral world magics, disciplines founded upon logical and careful efforts laid out over time rather than bursts of pure power. Thus he bade his time in silence while the man worked through his upset and finally answered when he seemed to expect it. "Pleased to meet you, Stefan Carrick," he said, putting his hand out to shake, though he wasn't sure the man, for all his talk of etiquette, would reciprocate. "That was a lamentable attempt at hypnotism," he allowed. "I was trying to put my mind in a state where it could reach out to another mind. It's one thing to read a description and actually experience it, of course. But surely you must be a hypnotist if you can so easily detect hypnotism? The book... It talks a great deal about ethics and how it's easiest to nudge a mind toward something it already wants to do as opposed to trying to overpower it. It's suggestion not mind control. There are several exercises and some history. It just seemed a logical thing to study in the City of Illusions, since illusions seem to be a sort of mass hypnotism, like the illusionist is hypnotizing people into believing they are experiencing a certain thing... But I've been accused of being a holistic mage, wanting to think that all magics are essentially the same thing."

[Cadence]

Stefan glanced down at Hadrian’s hand, an amused smirk hovering over his lips. He hesitated for a few seconds – perhaps intentionally to cause Hadrian discomfort – before deigning to grasp Hadrian’s hand with his own. He let go of it entirely too quickly, almost as if he couldn’t be bothered to hold onto it for too long. The man leaned back further in his chair, presenting an air of nonchalant boredom. “You might say I dabble in hypnotism,” he said noncommittally before adding, “I’ve read all that drivel about ethics as well. ‘Don’t push the mind too far. Respect personal boundaries.’ It’s all hogwash written by so-called hypnotists who simply didn’t have the strength to overpower anyone.” “Now, if you ask me,” Stefan said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. “There’s a lot more fun to be had with hypnotism than that. And it isn’t as if it really hurts anyone. Oh, they’ll get disoriented for a while, but it’s not like they’d be getting their arm chopped off. Like that boy over there,” he murmured, lifting his chin at the studious boy sitting a few tables away from them. “All he’s done for the past five hours is study. He’s throwing his life away with these books, so much so, that he isn’t ever going to have the time to practice anything he’s learned. It's high time someone gave him a break.” “Let me show you how real hypnotists work,” he said in an undertone before raising his voice to call out, “Hey you! You, with the red hair!” The boy’s head swiveled to the side, and he took in Stefan and Hadrian with a frown on his face. Stefan caught the boy’s eye, giving him a broad, insincere smile. “That’s a lot of books you’ve got there. Don’t you think you could find something better to do?” Stefan inquired, his voice suddenly acquiring a honeyed fluidity.The boy’s brow furrowed further and he muttered something under his breath, turning back to his books. “Now, that’s hardly polite,” chided Stefan. “You could at least look at me when I’m talking to you.” The boy hesitated before turning back to Stefan, looking a little confused. He didn’t seem to have any particular desire to converse with the pompous aristocrat, but there he was, staring at him with an expectant air. “That’s better. Now, how about you get rid of those books? Maybe toss one away from the table.” The boy seemed to be moving like a rusted, barely-functional golem. He slowly picked up a heavy tome, weighing it in his hand, indecision flickering across his face. Then, the confused expression was wiped away and he hurled the book away from him, watching with listless eyes as it flowed through the water and hit a nearby bookshelf with a muted thud. “See. Now that wasn’t in his nature at all, now was it? And I could still make him do it. No harm done, but it’s great mental practice,” Stefan said to Hadrian. “You want to have a go? His mental barriers are bound to be a bit weak right now. I’m willing to bet even you could issue a simple command as long as you focus on his eyes.”

[Hadrian]

It appeared that Stefan Carrick didn't require real responses from Hadrian, but merely a willing audience and so he listened and nodded where appropriate to keep the man talking. This was better than the vague menace he had sensed earlier behind the ruffled feathers, and Hadrian was normally not the most empathic of men. But he watched the man work with some skill, certainly much more than Hadrian possessed, and an elegance too. His conscience tugged at him, but he had been taught in the University and taken entire classes on ethics. The argument raged on whether the ends justified the means; even if Hadrian used whatever hypnotic powers he earned for good, did that merit bending the will of others? He realized he might be able to rectify what Carrick had done both with the redhead's action and his feelings regarding it. Urging him to pick up the book with a sense of shame would be a bad thing ultimately, but perhaps he could make a joke out of it, as if the lad's studies had stretched his patience too thin, and they could all laugh good-naturedly at that. "Pick that up," he said, laughing and attempting to make the command stick, pressing against the lad's mind with the weight of his own. "You've been studying too long if you've started throwing your books around." He could only concentrate that energy so precisely and so long. Confusion and weary hilarity battled on the lad's face, but ultimately he laughed too and swam to retrieve the book, treating it with more reverence now. "I think I just need a nap," he assured Hadrian and Carrick. "Don't mind me." Hadrian smiled and nodded, then glanced back at Carrick. He wasn't sure if he had planted a suggestion or if he had merely couched his 'command' in the correct way to urge the lad to do what he wished. Strange how the edges of things could be blurred like that.

[Cheshire]

OOCI was given permission to take this thread over from the HD Hadrian was new to the art of of Hypnotism so it surely it was a great feat that he got the boy to follow his direction in the first place. Stefan could not help but chuckle a bit at the attempt. "That is a good try if you want to get your son to clean up after himself. Where is the fun in it though?" Stefan looked over to the boy and with a sly smile called out to him. "Kid, you aren't tired. This man is just hypnotizing you to think that." Stefan was blunt and strong in his words. Hadrian gave off a look of insecure intelligence. Stefan could tell there was the ability in him to learn and execute the art of hypnotism but could be nonchalant about it? There had to be an essence to someone. They had to sell it with an air of security. Hadrian could not play with minds if his own was so… nervous. He cracked a smile at Hadrian. "That is, unless he could convince you otherwise. Who knows? I could be a malicious liar for all you know." This could be a test. A test to see how quickly Hadrian could think on his feet. The boy could be convinced otherwise but could Hadrian do it? Now focusing on the boy, Stefan began to heat the emotions. He let a seed of anger plant in the boy's chest. As the seed grew the boy's brow furrowed. "You think that is funny?" The boy's words were biting and sharp. "How dare you! I'm sick of people like you showing up thinking you can just use any passing stranger as your petching toy." Stefan smiled darkly as he watched his emotional creation barking away at Hadrian. "You think you are so superior don't you? You are a mage, you can do anything right?" The boy's eyes burned with rage as Stefan continued to nurture the roaring beast of anger in the boy's chest. "I bet you wouldn't like people picking at your mind would you? It is yours after all. Who else should control it?" The boy was usually a quiet soul. Even in the face of something like this where he was taken advantage of he would have just scurried away after he set the book down. Hypnotism was a tricky thing though. Hadrian now had a furious child to calm and who knows what that boy would do if his anger pitched any higher?

[Hadrian]

Carrick had ignited a fire in the flame-haired boy that hadn't been there before; as an anthropologist, Hadrian studied larger aspects of humanity, but even he could see that this was uncharacteristic for the young scholar. He had always admired Fire, the element of unrestrained creativity, energy, and growth. Fire could destroy, but it could also drive away a winter's chill, or quicken a concoction from a mere collection of herbs and water into a medicine that would save a life. But Ivak had never blessed him, and instead he had been given water when initiated into the arts of reimancy and he had yet to truly come to grips with that, make peace with the way he was and the way the world worked. But working with water had made him cunning in a different way. Where fire burned down whatever came in its path, water simply moved out of its way, filling whatever container was necessary, changing shape without losing itself. "What?" he asked, blue eyes going wide and his pale face a mask of shocked innocence. Rather than fight him, he would redirect, possibly confusing the poor young man, but at least dodging his wrath and violence as best he could. His voice throbbed with barely controlled suggestion; he was hardly the master Carrick was, but he had his wits. "I couldn't manage to overawe a mouse, let alone a person!"