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 laughs. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

[dark_light]

Presently the squab has been reduced to a skeleton, which Isabella discards. "All right, I suppose I'll get started on that spell I'm going to invent to get me an alethiometer."

[prodigal_miser]

He nods, finishing his own squab section. "I'll start writing down the basic structure for the index spell, then. It will probably take a while to organize - I'm not sure how long it'll take you for your spell. Do you have a general idea?"

[dark_light]

"Depends. I might have to go through a few drafts. Probably not more than a couple days if I can do it at all."

[prodigal_miser]

"Alright. If that fails, I can try my magic to locate one, though we'd have to go and physically retrieve it," he offers.

[dark_light]

"Which could be a problem if it's at the bottom of the ocean or something, although there's probably a way to hire somebody with a separated dolphin daemon or something for exorbitant exchanges."

[prodigal_miser]

"I never said it was a perfect method."

[dark_light]

Isabella smiles and goes up to her room to start sketching runes for the spell-circle she'll need.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin retrieves the shaped and colored rocks, and then heads to the attic. He retrieves some paper and a pen and writes complicated words then draws arrows between them, muttering and scratching some of them out occasionally. It's all very exciting.

[dark_light]

Eventually Isabella calls it a day and goes to sleep in her hammock.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin does the same a bit later, once his daemon helpfully nudges him and reminds him he's forgotten to do that important thing called 'sleep.' He goes and does that, in a sleeping bag in the attic. Strange though it seemed at first, he's starting to like having a personified version of his soul walking around.

[dark_light]

In the morning Isabella makes oatmeal, enough for three if Adarin is downstairs in time to collect some.

[prodigal_miser]

He does! Eventually. He looks half dead and says absolutely nothing unless addressed, not even retrieving the oatmeal. Water. Tea. He has tea with him, but needs to retrieve water - he figures out the faucet in record time. Helpfully, he boils it himself with magic, half-dead enough to not be talkative but apparently fine for a quick spelling of getting the water to a boil. If Metis sees, he won't care in the slightest.

Then, he has tea. Adarin takes a deep breath after drinking some, and smiles at Isabella if she's present. "You made a portion of oatmeal for me, thank you."

[dark_light]

"You're welcome. We have loads of oats, it's no trouble."

[prodigal_miser]

"It was still nice," he points out, retrieving the food in question. Noms ensue. In between the tea. Tea's the really important part.

[dark_light]

"Yes, I know. Not being self-congratulatory about it is also nice," smirks Isabella.

[prodigal_miser]

Adarin snickers, "Aw, but it was such a good opportunity for being self-congratulatory."

[dark_light]

"But then you handed me a better one. Good things come to those who wait."

(Path flies into the room and lands on her shoulder.)

"I'll have a first draft of my spell ready in a couple hours, but even odds that I'll need to revise it."

[prodigal_miser]

Laughing some more, Adarin replies, "And I'm glad you took advantage of that one."

"I got reasonably far in my own spell. I've still got more to do, but I'll probably be able to do it faster with an alethiometer in front of me," he explains.

(Adarin's still nameless daemon lurks outside of the room. She enters, once her person isn't half-dead and tea deprived. She's still not mastered how to properly shadow Adarin without getting in the way.)

[dark_light]

Path hoots at her in a friendly sort of way.

[prodigal_miser]

She makes a friendly trill right back!

[dark_light]

"How does constructing a new spell work for you?"

[prodigal_miser]

"Well. For a Kystle-native spell, you have to understand every underlying factor of what you're going to do and be able to bring it up in conscious thought when you begin the spell. Saying things isn't technically necessary but missing one portion of what you're doing is incredibly dangerous," he explains. "So it's easier to mentally attach an entire set of actions to a single word. Like reminders of everything you need to remember to keep in mind as you go."

"I could say 'light' but I know that more than just light, I need it to act in a certain way and work with something else I'm dealing with. I have to acknowledge it and it's easier if I write it down, or work out a good reminder method so I give every necessary part of the spell the attention it needs to not go horrifically wrong."

[dark_light]

"Huh. There's four potential components to the practice of a witch spell and any combination of them can yield an effect if a witch does them. Verse, herbs, runes, and sacrifice. Verse in particular can go off by accident - when I was still going to mortal school I couldn't read verse aloud in any class on literature because something might have happened. The others we have to mean to do something."

[prodigal_miser]

"That sounds annoying, not being able to read verse aloud," says Adarin. "But that's very complicated. Though less memory intensive than my magic."