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]

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."

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin laughs softly. "That makes me feel much better about the entire situation."

[dark_light]

Isabella laughs. Round and round on the spit go the pigeons.

[prodigal_miser]

Pets to shivering daemon continue, until she calms down. She looks up at Adarin with sad, sad eyes. "... We still have to."

"Yes," he agrees.

The daemon makes a sad sound again. Adarin goes back to working on the rock situation, with the kagu still staying close by. Soon enough, he's figured out the specifics of what he wants to do, and casts the spell.

Compared to a witch's magic, it's really not very showy. He says words in a language Isabella wouldn't understand, and then the rocks reform themselves to a nice smooth, round shape, completely flat on two sides - any excess sort of crumbles off. They are the exact same size and shape, with a hole in both for the sake of easily carrying them.

Adarin presents them to Isabella. "Would these do?"

[dark_light]

"Oh, gorgeous," she says approvingly, "I can string them on some silk and have them on my person."

[prodigal_miser]

"Oh, good. It would have been awkward if you'd said that you'd hated them," he says with a bit of a smile.

[dark_light]

"A bit, yes."

[prodigal_miser]

"I actually can change the color of them, if you want me to, now that I think about it. It's pretty easy to do," he muses, looking at the rocks. He's only a little tempted to make them a fluorescent green, but he's supposed to be conserving power for the larger spells he'll do later.

[dark_light]

"Black goes with everything," says Isabella.

[prodigal_miser]

Obligingly, Adarin turns them black. It's easier than shaping them, and barely takes any planning at all. He says something else she wouldn't understand, and they are then black.

"Better?" he asks, holding up the now appropriately colored rocks.

[dark_light]

"Perfect."

[prodigal_miser]

"Oh? So you don't want them to help you with the alethiometer?" he teases. "They're perfect as they are?"

[dark_light]

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin laughs. "Right, right. That will get me booted out of the attic or stabbed. Or possibly both."