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

[dark_light]

"Can you do it without an alethiometer handy?" asks Isabella.

[prodigal_miser]

"I could get the rocks, and a basic plan of how to do the spell down, but I would need an alethiometer in front of me to actually complete it," he explains.

[dark_light]

"Aha. Well, there are rocks around outside, if they'll suit. I'm supposed to make dinner for me and Metis and can probably get away with sharing with you, but after that, if the rocks outside won't do, we can go looking elsewhere, and if they will I can start on the spell to fetch one of the missing alethiometers."

[prodigal_miser]

"They will, unless the rocks are particularly flimsy or something. Or if you want them to be in some kind of fancier stone?" says Adarin. "I brought my own food, if sharing dinner's a problem. I'd expected this to be a long trip and to not find any witches that would let me borrow their attic."

[dark_light]

"I'd like them to hold up reasonably well, but I don't want them for their cosmetic value. We'll see if Metis makes any pointed remarks about dinner while I'm making it, shall we?"

[prodigal_miser]

"Sure. If she does, I'll take the hint and skulk off to the attic to eat cold bread in silence," he says, teasing a little.

[dark_light]

"I can get you fed," snorts Isabella. "I'll do it, too, for an alethiometer index that works like you promise I'll find a way to get you dinner at a five-star restaurant, but Metis might take exception to divvying up the squab."

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin laughs. "Fair enough! Thank you. I honestly don't mind sticking with the food I brought. Most of it's meant to be cooked and isn't cold bread at all."

[dark_light]

"Do you cook with magic?" asks Isabella, departing the attic to get started on the aforementioned squab.

[prodigal_miser]

"Only technically. I light a fire with magic, then it's regular cooking from there," he explains brightly. He follows her out of the attic, to look for some suitable rocks.

[dark_light]

"Please don't set the attic on fire. You can use the firepit in the backyard when we aren't if you like." Isabella ducks into the fridge for two already-plucked-and-beheaded pigeons and takes them out to the back yard, where she skewers them on the spit. She lights the firepit with a dash of salt from the covered crock next to it; soon the pigeons are cooking.

[prodigal_miser]

"I was not planning on setting your attic on fire. I believe I said I wouldn't bother your teacher or interfere? I'm certain pyromania counts as one of those," he says, amused. He goes on the hunt for rocks! This is done by hand, rather than anything showy or magic, because practicality.

[dark_light]

"Hey, you're from a zombie world, who knows what counts as something that can go without saying?"

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin snorts with laughter. "I suppose I walked into that one, didn't I? Thank you for letting me know that casually burning down homes is bad."

He finds suitable rocks! He brings them back and sits down near the firepit. While dinner's cooking, he can plan on how to shape them and actually accomplish it, too. Something this small's pretty easy to do.

[dark_light]

"I live to teach," says Isabella. Turn, pigeons, turn.

Path catches up, having fallen behind during the flight, and lands on her head.

[prodigal_miser]

"Thank you for gracing my poor zombie-world self with knowledge," he replies, in a completely serious tone. He is obviously joking.

When Path arrives, Adarin waves at him. Then, back to staring at the rocks. Fascinating.

His daemon's not so closed off while he works! "Are there any recommendations you have for separating? Anything we should know before we try it?"

[dark_light]

"There's a wasteland way, way up north - you'd probably freeze if you didn't go in a ridiculous coat and have something to keep her warm, too - where daemons can't go. That's where witches separate - it's usually the daemon who's more reluctant about it than the witch, so it prevents them from changing their mind while the witch is still able to take steps away. You can do it without, though. I think standard practice for people whose daemons are, say, aquatic, or whose people are special operations soldiers, involves the daemon being held down by somebody else's while the human is driven away in a car."

[prodigal_miser]

"Ah," says the daemon, looking sad and scrunching in towards herself. "I know it will hurt. Neither of us want to, but we know we'll need to and we don't want to be distracted when that time comes."

[dark_light]

"It might be easier for you than most people. Since you aren't used to each other you might not miss each other as readily. In which case you might benefit from doing it sooner rather than later. How far away from each other can you get comfortably now?"

[prodigal_miser]

"I'm not sure yet. I should test it," says the daemon, softly. She nuzzles Adarin, who pats her gently. He looks just as sad, but apparently they're in agreement.

The daemon manages to make it a fair distance - further than normal mortals - before Adarin starts grimacing and the daemon lets out a little sad sound and immediately comes back. She immediately throws herself at Adarin, who pets her obligingly.

"That far, apparently. I do see what you mean by emotional pain, that was... Strange," he says. "Perhaps if I teleported away it would make it less of a slow growing agony."

[dark_light]

"Maybe. It might also send you into shock and kill you," says Isabella. "Witches can't teleport, so it's never been tried."

[prodigal_miser]

"... Slow walk it is, then," he manages after a pause. "I'd rather not be the test subject for that one."

In his arms, his daemon shivers.

[dark_light]

"Path is too little to hold her," Isabella points out. "If you want to try the teleportation we could wait for the alethiometer and ask it. Otherwise you'd have to shut her up in a room, I bet you she yells, and it'll bother Metis."

[prodigal_miser]

"Alethiometer it is, then," he agrees. "I wouldn't want to have your teacher after my head."

[dark_light]

"Decapitation isn't very witchy," says Amariah. "We're more about stab wounds."