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portalling) wrote2022-04-02 01:17 pm
portalling) wrote2022-04-02 01:17 pm
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As soon as the fabric came down, Benedict had mentally prepared himself for the question, and he offers a tight, humorless little smirk in response.
"My induction into Riftwatch was not without contention," he says drily, "...my mentor at the time had thrown in with the Venatori, and betrayed them when we were brought here. They didn't like that."
Pensively, he runs his fingertips over the scar.
"An unpracticed healer," he continues with a weak little laugh, "healed the tourniquet right into the wound. It had to be undone and redone."
"My induction into Riftwatch was not without contention," he says drily, "...my mentor at the time had thrown in with the Venatori, and betrayed them when we were brought here. They didn't like that."
Pensively, he runs his fingertips over the scar.
"An unpracticed healer," he continues with a weak little laugh, "healed the tourniquet right into the wound. It had to be undone and redone."
Edited (icon) 2024-05-02 20:53 (UTC)
What form does your magic take?
[ hi, hello, etcetera ]
[ hi, hello, etcetera ]
The joke lands where it should, drawing another surprised relieved laugh out of him; he hadn’t actually known the extent of it, it’s not like he ever met any of those long-lived rifter elves. And then,
half-joking, half-mock-affronted, but with perhaps a little bit of genuine pedantry, because Stephen really can be a little vain when he lets himself be: “Grey. They’re more streaks of grey than white, I’ll have you know—”
half-joking, half-mock-affronted, but with perhaps a little bit of genuine pedantry, because Stephen really can be a little vain when he lets himself be: “Grey. They’re more streaks of grey than white, I’ll have you know—”
“Only because the rest of your hair is black,” she says, a laugh still threaded through the words, lifting her hand to sweep her fingers through it, illustratively and because she can and she'd like to.
(Sometimes, in the evening, she stops what she's doing to watch him because the novelty that he's right there hasn't worn off yet.)
(Sometimes, in the evening, she stops what she's doing to watch him because the novelty that he's right there hasn't worn off yet.)
Mollified, Stephen leans into her touch and savours that simple, enjoyable sensation; Gwenaëlle’s fingers at his temples, at the nape of his neck, combing through his scalp. Perhaps if the physical change had come on more slowly, through mere natural aging, he’d have been less self-aware about it. But it had come on like a shock: waking up after the accident to find that those few greys had multiplied, his whole look gone frayed and wan overnight, exacerbated by injury and his fucked-up face. (He still remembered the technicalities behind it: norepinephrine, a burst of acute stress, hormones affecting hair follicle pigmentation. A thing he never thought he’d experience firsthand.)
But Gwenaëlle thinks he looks very distinguished and very handsome now, and so at the end of the day he can’t really mind all that much.
He’s surveying the rest of the room and its wreckage. The mostly-empty paper on Gwenaëlle’s desk, the spill of ink, the broken chair. “I’ll help you clean this up,” Stephen says, head turning, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “We can move up one of the spare chairs from below.”
But he doesn’t make any gesture to move just yet. They sit there for a while, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the mess. Her grief’s still there, he can sense it like some deep waters lurking just out of view, but at least the weight is— less, hopefully, for having been shared.
There’s the physician’s urge to press his fingers into everything, to fix everything. This is a wound that he can’t stitch back together or sew up with his bare hands, but at least there’s company and that’s not nothing. It isn’t inadequate that you’re here.
But Gwenaëlle thinks he looks very distinguished and very handsome now, and so at the end of the day he can’t really mind all that much.
He’s surveying the rest of the room and its wreckage. The mostly-empty paper on Gwenaëlle’s desk, the spill of ink, the broken chair. “I’ll help you clean this up,” Stephen says, head turning, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. “We can move up one of the spare chairs from below.”
But he doesn’t make any gesture to move just yet. They sit there for a while, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the mess. Her grief’s still there, he can sense it like some deep waters lurking just out of view, but at least the weight is— less, hopefully, for having been shared.
There’s the physician’s urge to press his fingers into everything, to fix everything. This is a wound that he can’t stitch back together or sew up with his bare hands, but at least there’s company and that’s not nothing. It isn’t inadequate that you’re here.
[ Strange tends to launch into crystal conversations without much preamble or hellos either, so he appreciates the brusqueness; it cuts the fat. He double-checks the sending crystal name attached to the unfamiliar voice — Isaac, then — and then gladly rolls with it. ]
Here: offensive, for the most part. Bursts of telekinesis or blasts of energy, and summoning arcane shields and weaponry: shields, flaming swords, whips, restraints, and the like. From my reading and witnessing others’ abilities, I believe the most comparable local analogues would be force magic and spirit magic, for the summoned constructs part.
Here: offensive, for the most part. Bursts of telekinesis or blasts of energy, and summoning arcane shields and weaponry: shields, flaming swords, whips, restraints, and the like. From my reading and witnessing others’ abilities, I believe the most comparable local analogues would be force magic and spirit magic, for the summoned constructs part.
“Ouch,” Strange says on autopilot, wincing in sympathy; in a way, the botched healing sounds even worse than the initial injury. (His perfectionist nature rankles at it. Like a surgeon leaving a goddamn tool still inside a patient, needing to open them up again.)
There’s always so much history here that he’s always trying to suss out the shape of, the Inqusition and Riftwatch with all their long scabbed-over wounds, literal and figurative alike. He tries to picture it, the context.
“So the Venatori tried to execute you for treason?” he asks.
There’s always so much history here that he’s always trying to suss out the shape of, the Inqusition and Riftwatch with all their long scabbed-over wounds, literal and figurative alike. He tries to picture it, the context.
“So the Venatori tried to execute you for treason?” he asks.
Quite. There’s an established practice around weaponry, Voss could tell you more.
[ Whether she would is another matter, the former Knight-Enchanter has run afoul of enough Rifters in her day. (Maybe if he led with the restraints.)
But Strange doesn’t describe small spells, the fiddly work of fucked hands. Precision, then, remains his purpose in asking. Diverted, however temporarily: ]
Here - you recall a greater range of skills?
[ Whether she would is another matter, the former Knight-Enchanter has run afoul of enough Rifters in her day. (Maybe if he led with the restraints.)
But Strange doesn’t describe small spells, the fiddly work of fucked hands. Precision, then, remains his purpose in asking. Diverted, however temporarily: ]
Here - you recall a greater range of skills?
Strange nods. Feels the itch to write this down; remembers he can’t.
“I suppose that makes sense, given everything,” he says. “The effects on memory being slower and more gradual with habitual use, but that withdrawal then heightening it, worsening it on its way out. When you say picking up the memories and reordering them, what does that entail— was it simply disorientation, or were they hallucinations? Did you stop all usage at once, or taper off more gradually? Do you know if there’s a tendency in former templars between one or the other approach? Either one being more dangerous or life-threatening, for example.”
It’s a quick, business-like recitation of queries, clearly ready-to-hand, the itching medical curiosity he’s stockpiled but hasn’t had a chance to indulge until now. With the angle and drive of these questions, Strange’s motive and agenda isn’t too hard to intuit: he wants to be prepared to usher the next one through it. If there is a next one. (If he has his druthers, there’ll be more someday.)
“I suppose that makes sense, given everything,” he says. “The effects on memory being slower and more gradual with habitual use, but that withdrawal then heightening it, worsening it on its way out. When you say picking up the memories and reordering them, what does that entail— was it simply disorientation, or were they hallucinations? Did you stop all usage at once, or taper off more gradually? Do you know if there’s a tendency in former templars between one or the other approach? Either one being more dangerous or life-threatening, for example.”
It’s a quick, business-like recitation of queries, clearly ready-to-hand, the itching medical curiosity he’s stockpiled but hasn’t had a chance to indulge until now. With the angle and drive of these questions, Strange’s motive and agenda isn’t too hard to intuit: he wants to be prepared to usher the next one through it. If there is a next one. (If he has his druthers, there’ll be more someday.)
Hm, thank you, perhaps I’ll seek her out. I’m always interested in seeing if I can readapt with more practice, since— well, yes. Teleportation, more precise telekinesis, magical wards, illusions, conjuring actual physical objects like drinks or clothing, scrying someone’s location, astral projection, ejecting someone’s spirit from their body… Sorcery where I’m from is a much broader school of study. I used to be more powerful.
[ A little wistful. He’s never really gonna be over it. ]
But I make do.
[ A little wistful. He’s never really gonna be over it. ]
But I make do.
It has been my experience, mn -
[ i used to be more powerful. it reminds of others here and gone, scratching against the same bonds; whatever barrier the veil presents between imagination and access. he owns greater sympathy for them now, all these years on.
(i wish i could do that, athessa had told him, over a simple spark. a returned confession: i think that i would too.) ]
- That energy has a shape. The Fade is responsive to will, but it presses upon the mind in turn. The farther you travel along a given path, the more difficult it grows to walk elsewhere; start anew. Does that make sense?
[ i used to be more powerful. it reminds of others here and gone, scratching against the same bonds; whatever barrier the veil presents between imagination and access. he owns greater sympathy for them now, all these years on.
(i wish i could do that, athessa had told him, over a simple spark. a returned confession: i think that i would too.) ]
- That energy has a shape. The Fade is responsive to will, but it presses upon the mind in turn. The farther you travel along a given path, the more difficult it grows to walk elsewhere; start anew. Does that make sense?
Edited 2024-05-04 18:55 (UTC)
[ He makes a thoughtful noise. Of course the other sorcerers had had some predilections back home, greater or lesser levels of ease, some people had a better flair for defensive wards over offensive spellwork, but there hadn’t been specialties or schools the same way he’s heard them discussed here. So it does seem relevant for Thedas, where everything comes a little harder, reaching for his magic feeling like trying to run through water. ]
I believe so. We have a perhaps-related saying: ‘jack of all trades, master of none’. So you’re saying that— mastery might come more easily if I stayed focused on one school above the others? A narrower focus rather than broad?
[ —which might sound self-evident to most, but Doctor Strange had always bitten off more than he could chew, and never had to limit himself about it until now. ]
I believe so. We have a perhaps-related saying: ‘jack of all trades, master of none’. So you’re saying that— mastery might come more easily if I stayed focused on one school above the others? A narrower focus rather than broad?
[ —which might sound self-evident to most, but Doctor Strange had always bitten off more than he could chew, and never had to limit himself about it until now. ]
Much so. I can little lay claim to mastery -
[ he can. will, the second it's convenient. ]
- But certainly, there was a day when I might have turned my focus elsewhere. It's well behind me now. To the hammer, every problem a nail, yes? If you will forgive the venture,
[ doesn't matter, doing it anyway, ]
Many Rifters I have spoken with elect surprise at the psychological nature of our magic. When I say that your studies will shape you in turn, I am quite literal.
[ he can. will, the second it's convenient. ]
- But certainly, there was a day when I might have turned my focus elsewhere. It's well behind me now. To the hammer, every problem a nail, yes? If you will forgive the venture,
[ doesn't matter, doing it anyway, ]
Many Rifters I have spoken with elect surprise at the psychological nature of our magic. When I say that your studies will shape you in turn, I am quite literal.
[ Strange laughs, then — although Isaac hadn’t said anything particularly funny — but he’s reminded of other teachers, a pang of nostalgia. It’s been years, and he misses the Ancient One still. ]
Rest assured, that’s one thing that’s familiar. Magic, where I come from, it’s accompanied by sketching runes into the air with your hands. When I was first learning, I was convinced it was a physical thing: the precision of your fingers’ movement, the accuracy of the glyphs, the exact reproduction of the gestures, like pressing the right keys on the piano in the right order. Then I met a man without an arm who could outcast me in a heartbeat.
My mentor taught me that magic is more a state of mind than anything else. With thoughts, we focus the body.
Rest assured, that’s one thing that’s familiar. Magic, where I come from, it’s accompanied by sketching runes into the air with your hands. When I was first learning, I was convinced it was a physical thing: the precision of your fingers’ movement, the accuracy of the glyphs, the exact reproduction of the gestures, like pressing the right keys on the piano in the right order. Then I met a man without an arm who could outcast me in a heartbeat.
My mentor taught me that magic is more a state of mind than anything else. With thoughts, we focus the body.
Edited 2024-05-05 13:57 (UTC)
"I believe I may have had some hallucinations in the worst of it, though I don't clearly remember. But the reordering ... as I healed, it was clear that the memories were real, I think, it was more that they'd sometimes come detached from the context. I'm not sure if that makes much sense, but it would be as if ... someone would be turned away from me in the memory and I couldn't be sure who it was, or I knew the event happened but I had no idea how old I was when it did. That sort of thing." He hasn't talked about this before and finds it, if not precisely easy, then at least easier than he'd braced for. Giving a report is something he knows how to do, even if the content is usually much different.
(And if Strange notices a certain detachment, he probably has enough training to guess where that comes from.)
"I didn't trust myself to taper off," he adds, frankly, of the later question. "The addictive properties of lyrium are ... intense. I informed the Commander of my intentions and let him advise me if he had concerns about the timing, and I reported to the infirmary. But I feared if I tried to. If I had access to any at all, I didn't trust that I wouldn't become a problem in trying to secure more." Still even.
(And if Strange notices a certain detachment, he probably has enough training to guess where that comes from.)
"I didn't trust myself to taper off," he adds, frankly, of the later question. "The addictive properties of lyrium are ... intense. I informed the Commander of my intentions and let him advise me if he had concerns about the timing, and I reported to the infirmary. But I feared if I tried to. If I had access to any at all, I didn't trust that I wouldn't become a problem in trying to secure more." Still even.
Strange's reaction is a little bit funny, for whatever reason, and Benedict's mouth turns up at the corners-- not disrespectfully, but there's something about seeing such an honest response that's charming, in its way.
"More that they didn't want us talking," he explains, with a shrug of one shoulder, "not that they had much to worry about. I was barely in the loop anyway. But still a loose end."
"More that they didn't want us talking," he explains, with a shrug of one shoulder, "not that they had much to worry about. I was barely in the loop anyway. But still a loose end."
Then you're well-placed to examine Circle practice. Establishing a framework for your thought is - a tedious degree of the work. To detach it from feeling, another.
I'd an apprentice once who insisted on singing for shorthand. Claimed it was the influence of the Chant, but do you know, he stopped after Mlle Marchonne was transferred? That's teenagers for you.
I'd an apprentice once who insisted on singing for shorthand. Claimed it was the influence of the Chant, but do you know, he stopped after Mlle Marchonne was transferred? That's teenagers for you.
It’s a terrible (and terribly personal) context, but they are both so very good at that clinical detachment. This is easier to broach when it’s little parcels of impersonal fact, giving a report: this is simply what happened. The doctor would sooner set himself on fire than ask and how did you feel about that, emotionally?
“Also reasonable,” Strange concludes. “With some drugs, the withdrawal symptoms are simply too dangerous to field going off it all at once. But it seems you must have made the right call if the side-effects were… manageable. What about physically? Fevers, aches and pains, nausea, any of that? Nothing that seemed life-threatening?”
“Also reasonable,” Strange concludes. “With some drugs, the withdrawal symptoms are simply too dangerous to field going off it all at once. But it seems you must have made the right call if the side-effects were… manageable. What about physically? Fevers, aches and pains, nausea, any of that? Nothing that seemed life-threatening?”
Ha— [ Amused, and then warmly curious: ] But the most important question: did the singing actually work, to focus the magic? I’ve seen stranger things.
And apprentices. Enchanter. So, you teach?
[ There’s the titles, but there’s also Isaac’s tone of voice throughout this entire conversation: those gently probing questions, the knowledgeable cant in terms of fields of study. ]
And apprentices. Enchanter. So, you teach?
[ There’s the titles, but there’s also Isaac’s tone of voice throughout this entire conversation: those gently probing questions, the knowledgeable cant in terms of fields of study. ]
There’s a casual tilt to Benedict’s shoulder, a kind of affected nonchalance which belies the dreadfulness of what he’s saying. How fucking awful, to have your throat cut when you didn’t even have the knowledge to make the effort worth it. Just— what, another cog in the machine?
It feels like Strange should say more here, but he also can’t bring himself to keep parroting condolences nonstop. How many times can he say I’m sorry that happened, when the words already taste like ash on his tongue; when the young mage himself seems to be trying not to make a big deal out of it, either.
Tentative, then: “So— I’m assuming there’s no love lost between you and Tevinter, still.”
It feels like Strange should say more here, but he also can’t bring himself to keep parroting condolences nonstop. How many times can he say I’m sorry that happened, when the words already taste like ash on his tongue; when the young mage himself seems to be trying not to make a big deal out of it, either.
Tentative, then: “So— I’m assuming there’s no love lost between you and Tevinter, still.”
"Lyrium withdrawal causes excessive thirst. In me, and from what I've read, it's fairly common. Fatigue and muscle weakness, especially for the first week or two. Headaches. Deeply unpleasant, but manageable if you plan to stop and make provisions for others to assist you. I imagine involuntary withdrawal, or withdrawal in the field, would have serious dangers." He pauses before he adds:
"It was part of why I did what I did, for what it's worth. Stopping on my terms, in a place where I knew there was an infirmary, at a time that there wasn't a crisis." To avoid the dangers of involuntary withdrawal.
"It was part of why I did what I did, for what it's worth. Stopping on my terms, in a place where I knew there was an infirmary, at a time that there wasn't a crisis." To avoid the dangers of involuntary withdrawal.
With the primary effect of inducing migraine. He might have gotten there, it isn't unprecedented.
[ orlais, bards; a culture that conceals purpose. strange can draw his own conclusions. ]
I've been employed as a tutor these past few years. Not spellcraft, of course, but - mn, a Chantry education spends more cheaply than the University. Gives your heirs fewer ideas.
[ orlais, bards; a culture that conceals purpose. strange can draw his own conclusions. ]
I've been employed as a tutor these past few years. Not spellcraft, of course, but - mn, a Chantry education spends more cheaply than the University. Gives your heirs fewer ideas.
With the kind of deep breath that might precipitate a laugh, Benedict pauses, then lets it die on his lips; his expression is frozen in thought. He's obviously thought about the answer to this question before, but never had to say it aloud.
"I miss it," he admits, "perhaps that's an unpopular sentiment. But what's being done to it, what's-- been done for years," he narrows his eyes thoughtfully, "it's a bit like, I don't know, learning your favorite pastry has always been made from insects. It's corrupted."
"I miss it," he admits, "perhaps that's an unpopular sentiment. But what's being done to it, what's-- been done for years," he narrows his eyes thoughtfully, "it's a bit like, I don't know, learning your favorite pastry has always been made from insects. It's corrupted."
Edited 2024-05-13 18:34 (UTC)
That particular version is dead; he believed in reincarnation, understandably, situated as he was, and he had already destroyed all of his contemporary variants.
In the wake of the truth of what he'd done, the TVA is, now, dedicated to the freedom of all timelines, and as an extension of that dedication is paying close attention to versions of him who might try to revisit the familiar themes, as it were.
Free will is very important. To the TVA as it stands, positioned outside of the streams of time in order to protect them, and to all of reality, truly. Many of those countless centuries I mentioned were in service to that inescapable truth. Controlling others is not the sort of thing I am interested in anymore. I don't really want to be in charge of everything.
That is not to say I am not a person who is often concerned with doing things in the ways that I please. We all have our faults.
In the wake of the truth of what he'd done, the TVA is, now, dedicated to the freedom of all timelines, and as an extension of that dedication is paying close attention to versions of him who might try to revisit the familiar themes, as it were.
Free will is very important. To the TVA as it stands, positioned outside of the streams of time in order to protect them, and to all of reality, truly. Many of those countless centuries I mentioned were in service to that inescapable truth. Controlling others is not the sort of thing I am interested in anymore. I don't really want to be in charge of everything.
That is not to say I am not a person who is often concerned with doing things in the ways that I please. We all have our faults.
I mean, join the club. I only read enough of the rules to decide when I think I can reasonably break them and get away with it.
( Strange hadn’t really devoted much consideration to Loki’s personality traits before, but now it’s maybe a little bit of a surprise that they have a few things in common. )
So that’s— good, I think— so the Men In Black thing isn’t happening anymore? The TVA destroying timelines, dispatching them.
( Strange hadn’t really devoted much consideration to Loki’s personality traits before, but now it’s maybe a little bit of a surprise that they have a few things in common. )
So that’s— good, I think— so the Men In Black thing isn’t happening anymore? The TVA destroying timelines, dispatching them.
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