perfume, treasure, sorcery, every trick they knowfatespokenNovember 7 2010, 19:37:39 UTC
[ The coffee's already brewing when Eden arrives.
Amory sits on the couch; a rigid figure with his back straight and his hands flat beside his legs. Call it mental preparation for something he's not used to anymore. The dream curse had proved that, dramatically so. Their first try had arbitrarily yielded a mundane vision, cut short only by Eden's hand. Now he has to try and do it himself.
Amory still doesn't understand how Eden can be so accustomed to it, to be potentially barraged by visions whether awake or at rest. Then again, she's got the training. And maybe she's made for it. They, too, had been made for a specific purpose, but somewhere along the way, they had lost their adaptation. Now they are only human. ]
perfume, treasure, sorcery, every trick they knoweiremagicNovember 7 2010, 22:42:07 UTC
[Eden is made for this. Her body is designed for this, in certain ways - she can die from too much magic, but the visions will never drive her mad. For her, it's like watching a movie, only the movie's in your head, and you don't control the screening times.
She arrives without Frankie, and doesn't look terribly tired, either.]
perfume, treasure, sorcery, every trick they knowfatespokenNovember 8 2010, 01:09:28 UTC
[ Amory's predecessor had never explained anything to him regarding his visions, as if ignorance would have kept him shielded from inevitability. One day, if there was the moment for it, perhaps Eden and Amory would exchange more than casual remarks about their worlds; he had stories, fact that would seem like myth. Being earnest about it would make him feel ridiculous, as it sounds ridiculous. Then again, Eden knows too well the truth contained within supposed myth.
He feels her arrive before she walks in. He pushes himself off to the couch and walks over to the kitchen counter. On the edge sits a knife, sanitized with rubbing alcohol, along with a towel to wipe the blood off their hands. Amory's familiar with this now. ]
perfume, treasure, sorcery, every trick they knowfatespokenNovember 10 2010, 23:44:01 UTC
[ Eden's magic has a kick to it. It's honed and focused in a way that makes Amory's look like a kindergartener's masterpiece splashed across a carpet. But he follows her lead, marking on his hand what has become his standard sigel. Eden's magic subtracts the need to fall sleep first out of the equation, and so they're shunted nearly immediately into the vision--
Sight is absent at first. The air, or what seems like air, is ice-cold and thick, syrupy-even, as though an atmosphere melded out of the pair's magical aura. He gropes tentatively for something, smacking Eden somewhere with the knob of his elbow. The darkness persists. ]
i'll make coffee.
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Amory sits on the couch; a rigid figure with his back straight and his hands flat beside his legs. Call it mental preparation for something he's not used to anymore. The dream curse had proved that, dramatically so. Their first try had arbitrarily yielded a mundane vision, cut short only by Eden's hand. Now he has to try and do it himself.
Amory still doesn't understand how Eden can be so accustomed to it, to be potentially barraged by visions whether awake or at rest. Then again, she's got the training. And maybe she's made for it. They, too, had been made for a specific purpose, but somewhere along the way, they had lost their adaptation. Now they are only human. ]
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She arrives without Frankie, and doesn't look terribly tired, either.]
Oy.
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He feels her arrive before she walks in. He pushes himself off to the couch and walks over to the kitchen counter. On the edge sits a knife, sanitized with rubbing alcohol, along with a towel to wipe the blood off their hands. Amory's familiar with this now. ]
Think you can sleep with a cup of coffee first?
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[Alcohol is less that she can and more that she simply doesn't]
Pass it over.
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[ He pulls a mug from the cabinet, filling it up with freshly brewed coffee, then passes it to her. He'll save his for later. ]
We should have done this during the dream curse.
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[She takes it and takes a drink]
Because we both knew it was coming.
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[ He leans against the side of the counter, looking at her hazily. ]
Let's get this over with. [ The second part is said behind his teeth. ] And hope that I don't fuck this up.
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[Who's got it right this time]
Just do like we did before.
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[ A self-flogging joke, if only slightly. He reaches over to the counter and grabs the knife, moving to cut into his hand without hesitation. ]
Does your alter-ego mind you mixing with other magic?
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Doesn' matter. I'm the one in charge.
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[ He extends his bleeding hand toward her, offering the knife with his right. ]
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Sight is absent at first. The air, or what seems like air, is ice-cold and thick, syrupy-even, as though an atmosphere melded out of the pair's magical aura. He gropes tentatively for something, smacking Eden somewhere with the knob of his elbow. The darkness persists. ]
Fuck.
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Stay still, will yeh?
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