alicornutopia | delta v over delta t when there is no t

"Ah, fair enough."

Bar accepts the books.

And Kithabel opens the door into her gorgeous palace.

Milan brings some converted currency and a few things he did think were worth purchasing from Bar - mainly clothes to replace what he's leaving behind. It all fits in a single backpack.

"Nice castle," he comments before he steps through the door.

"I'll show you around!" says Kithabel, taking off so as not to waste time just standing on the ground. The door shuts behind her and the rest of the tour is incomprehensible, if smilingly delivered.

Milan pays enough attention to actually pick up some vocabulary from this tour. He also manages to compliment her lovely castle several more times with tone and body language alone.

Kithabel laughs. And then shows him the garden. She illustratively makes a tree fruit, picks one, bites it, and tosses him a separate fruit.

Then she waves and she's off to do sorceress things.

Milan continues exploring the castle by himself.

He attempts to affect nearly everything he sees. That flagstone could be slightly paler. That fruit could be red instead of orange. That light breeze could be warmer. That decorative fountain could be cooler. He has moved to a world where the bottomless depths of his hubristic and meddlesome nature are an asset, and it is not going to know what hit it.

All of these changes take a while spent concentrating on them, but then they obey him.

Well, perhaps they will take a shorter while if he turns all the way up first.

His senses heighten, his mind expands, the world slows down in his accelerated perception, and he applies his hubristic and meddlesome nature to the next target. One of the leaves on this plant in front of him is slightly wilted and this is no good and should cease immediately.

It perks right up. It is so eager to please.

What a good leaf. Onward, then. All of these plants should be much healthier—there should be a prettier pattern in the stone of that wall—the air temperature has gotten insufficiently comfortable again, how dare it—

And, of course:

He should be accumulating more pain on his total, as much as he can stand as often as he can stand it, because he is going to catch up to Kithabel and he is going to do it faster than she thinks.

Kithabel comes home for a nap after a few hours of sorcering and checks on him.

He has gotten a trail of little lights to follow him wherever he goes and is working on adding little pebbles and streams of water to the entourage and getting the whole thing to do tricks. Also, her garden is even more radiantly healthy than she left it and her castle has been cosmetically spruced up in a number of places.

She laughs and then zooms away to crash. She is awoken later by a cacophonous scream of music, which she interrupts to look in on his progress again.

The lights and pebbles and water are orbiting him constantly while he goes around exhorting yet more health out of her plants and yet more beauty out of her palace walls, in between whatever other changes he may be inspired to accomplish.

...she is rather impressed with the orbiting pebbles. Headtilt. Off she goes.

She comes back with a hunk of malachite on a gold necklace, which she puts over his head. "Translation object!" she says, and then it is naptime again.

Since she didn't stop for a conversation, he can't offer an explanation for the orbiting pebbles. Instead he keeps circling her castle. All the interesting cosmetic features he's added over the course of today are due for a freshening. His temperature preferences oscillate, warmer cooler warmer cooler. The floating lights and pebbles and spheres of water all fly around him in varyingly complex patterns depending how much attention he can spare to orchestrating them. Can he coax entire fruits out of her plants yet? Let's find out.

If he starts with a flower and can wait for the equivalent of ten subjective minutes for it, sure.

He most certainly can.

Fruit! Nom nom. He is still hungry: he will acquire more fruit. Then it's off to recolour some windowpanes and pick up a couple more pebbles - can he make them do things without his constant attention yet, no he can't, well then he'll turn all his lights and pebbles and water-spheres into a rainbow of different colours and move on to the next thing. And the next thing. And the next one after that. And some more fruit. And a bigger pebble for the honour guard. And all of these pebbles ought to be perfectly smooth and round, don't they know who they're working for.

Kithabel wakes up again and swings by again. "How're you doing? Need something to eat besides fruit? I knew you had an expanded concentration thing but if you're doing all those individually that's still really something."

"I'm accelerating the expanded concentration," he explains cheerfully. And rapidly. "Yes please, still kinda hungry."

Kithabel hands him a bread bowl full of stew. "Enjoy. ...And by accelerating the expanded concentration do you mean you are self-injuring...?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Nomnomnomnomnom. His pebbles and lights and water-spheres weave back and forth through the air and cycle through a succession of lovely colours in time with their movements.

Kithabel pats one of his rocks as it passes, then zooms away again.

Milan resolves to nap the next time Kithabel does, because he should probably sleep eventually; in the meantime, he has flying objects to direct and fruits to create and assorted cosmetic alterations to overhaul yet again and cumulative small pains to add to his total and perhaps he should just be followed by quiet pleasant music wherever he goes, can he do that, let's find out.

That is somewhat beyond him unless he wants to personally conduct it note by note and settle for it being really quiet.

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