XOqNI

[tongueamok]

Hello, this is Carlisle. I mean, it's not Carlisle as in I'm actually answering you right now, so if you're trying to reply to me at the second, you should probably save your breath because I'm not really here. This is some kind of a recording of my voice, but this is my communicator. I'm going to assume these devices are as common here as they are in other places — not my world, but others, ones more technologically advanced than where I come from— so if you'd like to leave me a message, then you may do so here, or er... Right. Here is fine. So just leave yo— [beep]

Comments

[dedikated]

( Carlisle, that would involve either of you talking about personal things, um... ever. )

Celebrated?

[tongueamok]

Yes. My family, for generations upon generations now, has been primarily known for their proclivity to keep the monsters in the region at bay, as well as the necromancers and their abominations. Our bloodline has been recognized by the king for our service to the realm, and for using their talents for the good of the common people. My uncles and father were hunters, for example, spending much of their time away from home, called to aid towns and cities in their time of need.

[Yeah, there must be a dozen or more reasons why Carlisle doesn't fit into this bloodline very well.]

[dedikated]

( So just... a little bit of a black sheep there, Carlisle. Kate lets out a low whistle though, it's a lot to have in your family tree. )

Impressive.

( She thinks she'd hate it, having a name which carried that much weight back home. Even the idea of having a power set like Faith, and all the expectation that carries, sounds awful.

Taking a drink, Kate stretches out her legs in front of her. )

What kind of monsters are there?

[tongueamok]

Many, even near Bear Den. Aside from the aberrations created by necromancers, there's the wildlife as well, some of it more dangerous than others. The kalugra, for example.

[Setting his cup down, he slides from his seat and heads toward the coat rack in the corner, grabbing his cloak and bringing it back to show Kate. Made from the pelt of what is presumably a kalugra, the hood is actually the head of the beast, striped and broad and bearing longer fangs than it has any business having. The fur along the back of the cloak is mottled, what stripes there are interrupted by scars in the skin. This had once been a truly impressive beast... and one Kate might recognize, given she's seen him under its enchantment before.]

[dedikated]

I remember this thing.

( BTW, Carlisle, not the thing a person always wants to see in the midst of chaos. )

Enchanted with an illusion, aye?

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle turns a little red. Yes, Kate would remember it, he recalls, wouldn't she?]

That's right. My uncle enchanted it himself.

[whip_poor_will]

[It's okay, Carlisle. Ravine dwarfs most people. She's gotten used to this.

[At his response, she nods.]

I shall be here when you decide.

[Whether she means in the literal sense, that she will appear from seemingly out of nowhere as she had just moments prior, or something more supportive and meaningful, she doesn't clarify. She could even be referring to being here in the city altogether, rather than sent back to her own dying planet through the Door of this world. It is no concern to her either way.]

It is not necessary for you to understand, but you are welcome.

[With that, she turns and leaves through the door she came in from.

[Should Carlisle try to follow or look out immediately after, any trace of Ravine ever having been there is gone.]

[dedikated]

( Hard to forget it, really. But enchanting works so differently for Carlisle's world than hers, from what she remembers. This would be the kind of thing she'd need to work on with another, and even then it would need recharging, reworking constantly. )

Makes me realise how limited powers are in my world.

( To be able to freely do so much is something that Superhumans don't get to do.

Maybe they're not so different from humans, after all. )

[tongueamok]

Limited?

[Carlisle raises an eyebrow, truly puzzled by that assessment.]

As they are now, or as they were before you left?

[dedikated]

Before.

( The look on his face, surprisingly, isn't lost on her. She doesn't stop there, but there is a pause to drink, to think how to word it. )

Got loads of abilities in the world. But you don't get to choose.

( Another sip. )

Different rules in other worlds. Got power, just depends what you're good at. Us? Doesn't matter if your power doesn't suit you, stuck with it anyway.

( She's thought about it a lot, because Kate's never understood why she, of all people, was born into a line where the powers are all about taking their time and analysing. Why she couldn't have something active, something that complemented her strengths. )

[tongueamok]

I see.

[Or he thinks he does. Kate's explanations sometimes leave much to the imagination.]

I cannot say it is entirely different where I'm from, honestly. There are plenty of magicians who excel in schools they'd rather not. If they are lucky, they might be able to glean some spells from other schools, but their true proficiency will always hang overhead, and it is up to them to simply accept it.

[dedikated]

( It's similar enough, actually. She can't even count on luck letting her learn other things, but it's close enough that Kate doesn't correct him in any way. )

Is it a family thing? ( Her head tilts curiously as she asks that. ) Is for us, usually. Powers get passed down family lines.

[tongueamok]

The capacity for magic tends to be, though not the area of expertise. That is not always the case, however. My family, for example.

[He brings his hands into the air, lines of light manifesting from his fingertips as he draws a tall figure with a staff.] Uncle Benistad -- the one who enchanted the cloak -- was a phenomenal magician. Primarily an elementalist, but he had vast talents in enchanting and abjuration, as well. Uncle Boris, on the other hand—

[He draws another figure, one taller and broader.] He had no skill at all. He could barely even activate the glyphs he crafted, if that.

[Finally, he adds a figure between them, one with his hair tied bad and holding a bow.]

My father, Kevin, had little proclivity for magic. Even if he did, it is unlikely he would have been a specialized healer, as I am.

action. 23rd

[puzzlingly]

「Just a day after his own post, a day after his little and not at all pleasant exchange of words with Carlisle, Atem makes it to his little garden. He hardly is there to prod about his personal life, but he's on a mission, not even for himself, as usual, and it might show in the little regard he has about himself at the moment. The tear in his soul is not boding well with him, his body reacting badly to it; all he's felt ever since the so called god's event ended, is a terrible nausea that sometimes go together with vertigo, he looks sick over all, like if he had caught an awful stomach flu of some kind. At least there is no real pain more than a phantom one on his shoulder, where Ravine had bitten him.

Whatever, he might be feeling, though, doesn't stop him from looking for Carlisle; he knocks on the little shack's door, but no answer comes. It's fine, he can wait, he'll come eventually, right? He could have sent a message, but with how poorly things went with him, he'd rather just ask in person and be over with it.

Atem sits on the ground, leaning on the wall next to the door, he fishes out his phone and replies to a few stuff in the network; so long passes before his body urges him to rest, again, even though no matter how much he sleeps, he's always tired and the circles under his eyes refuse to fade. At least the shade of Carlisle's plans protect him from the scorching suns, it's not so bad.」

\o/

[tongueamok]

[The plants might offer protection from the suns, but they do little to hide Atem once Carlisle arrives at his garden. Though he notes Atem is looking worse for wear, Carlisle can't say he's doing much better himself: his pale skin practically reflects the sunlight, the bags under his own, glowing eyes heavier than they were last time the two of them spoke face to face. The gods' latest machinations did neither of them any good, apparently.

Carlisle lets out an audible sigh as he spots his visitor, setting his satchel down beside the coiling vines that reach throughout much of the area: whatever is in the bag, it's heavy.]

Atem. Have you more to say that could not be expressed through written word?

[puzzlingly]

「It is not the audible sigh which rouses him, but the sound of his name.」

Carlisle.

「He tries to look alive, giving the freaking taller man a small (tired) smirk, then he raises slowly.」

Actually, I have a request for you. You're the one who provides Rey with tea, right?

[tongueamok]

[That's a question he didn't expect. He straightens his glasses before kneeling by his satchel, undoing the clasp, but otherwise leaving the bag alone. As he steps away from it, it seems to move just an inch or two in the direction of the coilers, but perhaps that was a trick of the light.]

I am. I wasn't aware she spoke of me.

[Seems a lot of people are doing that these days, much to his chagrin.]

[puzzlingly]

I asked who gave it to her. That's all. It was good tea.

「And he isn't even a tea guy! This last time it also really helped him, but he's not about to talk about that. Atem halts his speech as he notices the movement in the bag, maybe it's his imagination but he gives it a curious stare before going on.」

I was wondering if you had anything like it that could help someone have a dreamless sleep.

[tongueamok]

The Breath of Night.

[His tone is clipped, but not as rude as he could be; it's more that he's going to be doling out more tea to people. He doesn't mind what he makes for Rey, as he was the one who offered to make her a steady supply to ease her headaches as the drink has his; Emily was his student, and Chris was his friend, and both had nightmares he could stave off with a magical drink. Atem is more of a stranger, and one that hasn't particularly left a good impression upon Carlisle in their few conversations.

Still, he should respond better to a compliment, he reminds himself.]

I try to make my brew as palatable as possible. I'm aware some of the plants here used to steep tea are not very flavorful. [Or are downright bitter.]

[puzzlingly]

「Oh, that was easy. Okay, a name doesn't mean he's going to get it but it might be the first straight answer he gets from him.」

That's kind of you... Usually people don't mind much what a remedy tastes like as long as it does the job.

「He takes a deep breath, here comes the question.」

What can I do for you in exchange for some of it?

[tongueamok]

I don't need exchanges.

[He casts his eyes aside, feeling guilty for being so sharp. Sure, Atem hasn't exactly done much to get on his good side, but Carlisle knows a lot of what's eating him is stress. He shouldn't take it out on others, no matter how frustrating they may be on the network. What he said, though -- what he implied he knew... who has he been talking to?]

I mean— [He pushes out a breath, looking sheepish as he tries again.] I have made them here before, exchanges. I would rather no one be indebted to me.

[Makes it easier when he inevitably dies -- they don't feel that they have to make amends to a dead man, as he has felt since day one with the people who no longer remember him from their time in the jungles around the Tranquility.]

[puzzlingly]

「Carlisle is not so hard to read when he's seeing him, Atem can sense the resistance, see it in his movements. Though, Atem being somewhat used to his friends being less than amiable at times. It doesn't deter him.」

No one ever does.

「There are so many favors he owes, and he doubts anyone is ever going to ask him about them. It doesn't mean, by any chance, that Atem will let them pass. He'd do something for them, anything.」

[tongueamok]

[Atem is right -- no one needs them, but they make them anyway, whether for small commodities like enchanted tea, or larger, more dangerous trades like a container for a soul. He still needs to have words with Kate about that, but hasn't yet worked up the nerve. He's been busy fighting with his own affliction, which continues to be riled by the gods on a regular basis.]

Imbuing tea is not terribly taxing. I suppose if you are making regular visits to Miss Rey, I could perhaps leave it with her for you.

[He reaches into a crate near the door to the shed and gets his pruning shears, taking them back to the paw plants. As he passes toward the thorny shrubs, he passes by the abandoned satchel -- doubly abandoned now, as it lies completely empty, its cargo having wriggled out. Nibbling on one of the stray coiler vines is what appears to be some kind of hairless, spotty rabbit. No leash attached, but it definitely has the same markings as the one that was with that creature in the shops not a week ago.]

[dedikated]

( His explanations are listened to intently, the lines of light followed with her eyes. It works so differently from world to world, and Kate doesn't often question people about it, but doing so only highlights how far apart they all are. She isn't sure if there's a Superhuman on the planet whose child has no powers. )

Sounds so weird to me.

( No matter how much you accept that all these worlds work differently, it's still strange to know that Christian mythos is real in Jo's world, or that Gods exist in Ignis'. That a family's ability with superhuman powers - or magic, as the case may be - varies so wildly.

After nearly thirty five years of the way her world works, it's strange to think of the possibility of having a family like that. )

Always been that, if your parents're Superhumans, you are too. Even just one. Unless you're like Faith - ( A Named one, a legend in their circles. ) - powers depend on your parents'. Wouldn't get someone who couldn't use their powers unless something were wrong.

( Though, "something being wrong" can be as simple as not keeping yourself in good physical condition, not using them enough. )

[puzzlingly]

「Atem agrees with a nod, idly wondering why he couldn't just call him for him to fetch it. The teen has met private people before but so far, maybe Carlisle takes the cake. Before he can think of bothering him with such question, his full attention shifts to the ugly rabbit.

He knows this little guy! He looks up at Carlisle, his eyes wide in anticipation and a little smile taking shape upon his lips.」

... It was you!