alicornutopia | cooperation

Harry Dresden is currently exiting the shower, reaching for a towel and mourning the fact that, for all that she would have damned his soul to Hell and probably made him eat puppies for breakfast, Lasciel's shadow was really convenient when the water heater was broken. He misses hot showers, dammit. And, not that he's going to admit it to anyone, but... he kind of misses her, too.

He doesn't have much time to do so, because as his feet hit the tile, they're suddenly not hitting the tile anymore. He's on a hardwood floor, and there are two girls waving their hands around and- shit, are those pointy ears? He hopes they're not faeries.

He really, really hopes they're not faeries.

Towel in hand, he goes into something like a fighting stance while drawing in as much power as he can. He feels his skin prickling with energy. "Alright, I don't know who or what the hell you might be, but I'm a wizard and I will not hesitate to start setting things on fire. How did you do this?"

Edited 2015-01-04 05:26 (UTC)

The girls titter - and the pointy-eared one blushes - exactly as though, well, they've just had a man fresh out of the shower appear in their room and they're adolescent girls. The brown one averts her eyes, and the pale one goes for the bookshelf, murmuring something in an incomprehensible language.

Harry is confused, for a moment. Then he realizes why they're laughing, and he blushes conspicuously. He goes to cover himself, but then realizes that it would involve letting his guard down, which isn't something he wants to do around two weird girls who can summon corporeal entities. He founders for a moment, going redder and redder, until he realizes that he still has the towel. He mutters unpleasantnesses, wraps it around his waist as quickly as he can, then gets his hands back up into a useful position.

He clears his throat. "Okay, that aside, my questions and threats stand. Who are you, where am I, I have fire. Not that you can... understand a word I'm saying... Dammit. Am I going to have to start miming? If I have to mime, I'm putting this towel on more securely."

The brown girl says something apparently to him, not that she's gotten any more comprehensible in the last few seconds. The blonde one flips through her book and finds what she's looking for. She waves her hand through the air and speaks.

"You should, uh, be able to talk to us now," giggles the brown one.

By this point, he's lost most of his steam with the threats. If they were going to hurt him, he's pretty sure they'd be less... teenager-y, about it. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Okay, so... what the hell is going on, for a start. I'd love to know that. What's going on, who are you, how in God's green hell can you summon corporeal entities, etcetera. And are you going to hand me to the vampires on a silver platter, because that's kind of how my life has been going lately." After some redness and some chewing on his lip, he adds in a rush, "And my water heater's broken, so, what- It's not- That's not indicative. Not that it's relevant. You're like twelve. But still. Not indicative."

"We got the spell out of an old book!" says the brown one. "It's just for a few degrees and then we can send you straight home. My name's Saasnil, and that's Korulen. What's not indicative of what?"

"What would vampires want you plated for? That seems kind of beside the point, and also, you look like a human to me," says Korulen.

Harry sighs. "It's... good, I guess, to meet you, my name is Harry, conjure it at your own risk. And try not conjuring me, either. And- indicative things- that is irrelevant, I didn't say anything, nothing was said. Anyway. I'm kind of quietly amazed that you can do terrestrial summoning and you haven't heard of the Vampire War, but long story short vampires are dicks, I killed a bunch of them, now they're kind of at war with the wizards and most particularly at war with me. They would really like me dead."

At the mention of spells out of old books, Harry would feel an urge to spit on the ground and turn around twice, but he's not actually a grizzled prospector. Instead, he puts on his most potent Warden Face. "And as a warden of the White Council, I'd like to inform you that spells out of old books are a terrible idea. They lead to things like Chicago being eaten by necromantic death tornadoes. That kind of thing can get your fool head chopped off for being a warlock." This ominous pronouncement is slightly weakened by the fact that he's wearing only a threadbare towel. Most of his pronouncements will probably be weakened by that, really. "It's good that you checked you can reverse the spell, though. Some idiots do this stuff on a whim and just assume that whatever they do can be reversed, because why would magic ever permanently inconvenience them?" (He's not talking to his past self here, why on earth would you think that? That's very uncharitable and not at all true.)

"Racist much?" asks Korulen. "Like, wow, I have friends who are vampires."

"Reversing spells is easy, you just do them backwards," says Saasnil.

"Maybe he's got offworld magic," suggests Korulen. "Or something. Which doesn't work like that? I mean, we did get him out of another world."

Harry looks absolutely poleaxed at the phrase "another world." There are no other worlds, there's the physical realm and the Nevernever and-

the Outside. Great. He's been summoned by teenage Outsiders. They don't look particularly tentacled, but stereotypes have never helped anyone. For a moment he wonders, inanely, if they're going to get in trouble for reaching beyond the Outer Gates. Then he remembers that they would like nothing better than to weaken the fabric of reality, so they probably aren't all that careful about the Laws of Magic.

But... he hasn't met that many Outsiders, but the ones he's seen somehow make him doubt that they come in "giggling teenager" flavor. Maybe there are more things outside of heaven and earth than are etcetera etcetera. He doesn't really know how he'd test it, without possibly aiming his Sight at a pair of Outsiders, though. Which he isn't really keen on. He likes keeping his brain where it is.

"Yeah, if you can do spells backward we definitely have different kinds of magic," he says instead of freaking out at the nice possibly-tentacle-monsters. "And if you have vampire friends, I'm pretty sure we have different vampires too. Unless they happen to be sparkly and eat sex energy, in which case I'd be kind of a hypocrite to knock you for it."

"Uh, eat what?" blinks Saasnil.

"Sparkly?" says Korulen.

That would be a point towards alternate-universe vampires, then. In which case Harry has probably just accidentally sounded racist against some perfectly nice bloodsuckers. Fantastic. "Okay, there are three types of vampire in my world. The Black Court are basically walking evil corpses; they're the worst and they should be destroyed whenever they show up. The Red Court, who want me dead, are awful rubbery demon-things that drink blood and enslave people a lot; they are also the worst and should be destroyed. The White Court are beautiful sparkly folks who feed on spirit energy through sex. Or fear or despair, but the sexy ones seem like the most common. They're sometimes alright, weaselly bastards though they may be."

Harry is prepared to give these weird Outsider vampires the benefit of the doubt, for however long these weird girls are going to keep him trapped in a circle. He doesn't exactly have high hopes for them given their counterparts in his world, though.

"Those don't sound like the same things as each other, let alone regular vampires," says Korulen.

"I'm not sure this offworlder is the best offworlder. Maybe we should put him back and get another one," says Saasnil.

"It's random, the spell's random," says Korulen, "if we put him back and get another one it'll just be another random person who might not be any more to your liking, and it doesn't matter for proving we could do the spell."

"I guess."

That's kind of what Harry's hoping for, but he bristles at the judgment anyway. "Well excuse me for not being some kind of perfectly inoffensive hippie or something. I tend not to like species that murder and enslave humans as a matter of course. I also tend not to like people who kidnap me out of my damn apartment, in case you were wondering."

"Sorry," says Saasnil sheepishly.

"Nemaar should be out of his class in a couple degrees and all we want to do is show you to him and then home you go," says Korulen.

"Great. Fantastic. Excellent. Can I at least have a book or something?" Harry glowers.

"Getting anything into the circle with you would take longer than we want to keep you in the first place," says Korulen. "Sorry."

"Fine," he grumps. He sits himself on the floor, careful of the towel, and glares pointedly at the runes surrounding him. They don't even make any sense. Damn magic aliens.

"We do have time to get rid of him and get a different one, though," says Saasnil.

"I mean, I guess, if - oh no -"

"What?"

"Oh no oh no Saasnil you can't co-cast a reversal stupid stupid how did I forget -"

This sounds... negative. "I'm taking back what I said about you not being idiots."

Okay. He may be stuck here. BAD. But if he's stuck here, what needs to happen? Molly needs to find another master before the Council beheads her. The Sword needs to go to someone who can keep it and/or give it to some worthy knight. Bob... he's tempted to take Bob with him into this brave new world, but the magic knowledge skull should probably go to the people who are trying to keep Chicago from catching fire in his absence. Somebody needs to tell Murphy. God.

This is shaping up to be a much worse day than he thought.

"I have to tell my mom -"

"DON'T I'll be EXPELLED -"

"You won't be expelled! If I can't reverse it alone you're the backup, you'll be in trouble but they won't expel you."

"Don't tell her - maybe there's - can we send him -"

"We can't send him, he's not Elcenian!"

Maybe I could apply for a dual citizenship, he thinks with a slightly manic mental giggle. God, this is a mess. If he could just send back some letters for Karrin and Michael and-

"Can you send messages back to where you got me from?" he demands. Because if they can, this becomes ever so slightly less terrible. Still the worst day he's had in a good while (the thing with the ghouls aside), but not quite "my lover turned into a vampire, I killed several dozen innocent humans, and I just caused the biggest supernatural war in recent memory" level.

"Y-yeah, we can send letters, or, like, people who know what they're doing can send letters, I'm so stupid -" says Korulen.

"Don't tell," whimpers Saasnil.

"I have to."

"I can't get expelled I can't I can't -"

"You won't be. I have to tell my mom."

Korulen closes her eyes.

After a moment, the door opens, and a man who looks like he's probably Korulen's dad, complete with pointy ears, opens the door.

"Hello, reasonable adult!" says Harry with brittle cheer. "You look like the kind of person who is going to start apologizing and telling me there's just nothing you can do, you're terribly sorry. Stop me if I'm wrong."

"I apologize on behalf of my daughter and student," says the man gravely. "There may be something to be done, but not hastily - Korulen - why?"

"Nemaar was teasing Saasnil and she wanted to prove him wrong and she got me to help I was stupid -"

Her father sighs.

"Sounds about right," Harry comments. "Wanting to prove people wrong and being stupid have gotten me far in life. Hell, that's half my career right there."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject