picknicking

[dark_light]

There's something unutterably pleasant about landing in a bit of woods in the middle of Nowhere, Manitoba, removing a sandwich and an apple from her backpack and having a picnic before she's ready to move on. She could eat in midair, but it makes it too likely that she'll drop something and find it unrecoverable.

Path's on her knee, and her cloudpine is propped up against the tree next to her.

Comments

[prodigal_miser]

"I would hope I'm not a bear. I would be quite embarrassed to not have noticed by now," he replies. "Why bears specifically? Are there, say, field mice that have uh... 'Daemons'?"

[dark_light]

"Only people have daemons, not mice," says Isabella patiently. "And only witches and mortals, of people; not armored bears."

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin takes a minute to soak in the completely serious statement about 'armored bears.' His daemon says something, softly, into his ear. He nods, a little, still looking confused.

"Good day, I'm Adarin. Pleasure to meet you, you've been incredibly helpful so far. I think I'll need more explanation, though, I'm quite confused," replies the man.

[dark_light]

"I've never had to explain daemons before," snorts Isabella. "Everybody's got one. If you'd showed up without one I'd have thought you were a zombie. Has she got a name?"

[prodigal_miser]

"It's not like that in my home," explains Adarin. "There are no daemons."

"I don't have a name," says the kagu. "Do you have any ideas? We've never had to name something before."

[dark_light]

"It really depends. Daemon names are usually a little longer and fancier than their people's names; your parents' daemons are usually supposed to pick something. I'm Isabella - Isabella Amariah - and this is my Pathalan. How in the world do you get along without daemons?"

[prodigal_miser]

"Reasonably well? What does one do with a magic talking- er. Daemon?" asks Adarin, correcting himself in the middle of 'magic talking bird,' though a bit too late to matter.

[dark_light]

"What practical things they can do depends a little on what shape they take, I guess, but they're - there to hold talk to when everyone else is gone. Path knows me like I know myself. And they talk to each other, too, they do a lot of the - emotional subtext of conversations. Some daemons won't even talk to people."

"And we're separated, so I can go on errands, though that's only because we're a witch," says Path.

[prodigal_miser]

"I can see how that would be useful. Strange, but useful. Usually emotional subtext goes unsaid, or we have to be perceptive," Adarin says. He looks at his daemon. "Are you going to refuse to speak to people?"

Enigmatically, the kagu replies, "If it's convenient."

She looks at Pathalan. "Separated?"

[dark_light]

"Well, by default no one can get very far away from their daemon," shrugs Amariah. "If you do it anyway, then you can go on doing it and it doesn't hurt anymore. Witches do, when our daemons' shapes settle - when we're about thirteen. Humans overwhelmingly don't."

[prodigal_miser]

"I think," says the kagu. "That we are a special case and that inevitably we will need to be away from each other." Adarin nods, grimly. If it was better than mana deprivation, he could handle it reasonably enough. He'd have to test it to see.

"What level of pain are we speaking of?" asks Adarin.

[dark_light]

"...Most thirteen-year-old witches manage it within five tries and many on the first?" suggests Amariah. "It's more of an emotional - thing, than a physical pain."

[prodigal_miser]

"I see. Thank you," replies the silver-haired man.

Time for a subject change. While he was planning to separate from his daemon eventually, he wasn't going to try it in front of her. That seemed rude.

"You've mentioned witches before. Are they your magic-users, here?" inquires the kagu, for him.

[dark_light]

"We are, yes."

[prodigal_miser]

"I have access to magic - it's how I got here. But I don't count as a witch?"

[dark_light]

"Witches are all women," says Isabella archly.

[prodigal_miser]

"And there are no male magic users? At all?" asks Adarin. "That seems a strange distinction."

[dark_light]

"I didn't make the rules," she shrugs. "We're basically a species. If my parents had had a boy instead I'd just be a mortal, no magic."

[prodigal_miser]

The silver-haired man doesn't look pleased with this distinction. Strange as it is, he's glad he was born in his world. Life without magic would be terrible.

"For ours, if someone with magic has a child, the child is overwhelmingly likely to have it, too. But it weakens by generation if the line continues to propagate with... Er, mortals, as you call them. Us?" he shrugs. He counts as mortal, he's just not as mortal as other people.

[dark_light]

"That sounds inconvnient in its own way, although I suppose less so for you in particular."

[prodigal_miser]

He grins, just a little. "I am happy to take advantage of having magic, yes. It would be a pity if my sister were the only one to get it."

The kagu muses, "Perhaps it would be easier then, though."

This gives Adarin pause. "Perhaps," he manages, after some thought.

[dark_light]

"Does the place you're from have a name? I mean, this one doesn't so far as I know, so not having one would be reasonable, but it'd be convenient if it had."

[prodigal_miser]

"The world my people came from is called Kystle. The world we now live in we haven't thought of anything more creative for than 'New Kystle.' If it gains a new name, I'll update you," informs Adarin.

[dark_light]

"So world-hopping is fairly casual for you, then? What are you doing here?"

[prodigal_miser]

"Not as casual as it sounds. I'm something of a special case, which is why I'm here. Our new home's missing a plant used for a remedy that we neglected to bring with us through to our new home. Since going back to Kystle would be suicidal, I did a few scryings and - your world has the plant," he summarizes. "On that note, do you happen to know where a flower called Chamomile is? It looks like a daisy."