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[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

[tongueamok]

[He rolls his eyes.]

It would only kill the absolutely foolish. I'm sure tools in your world could do the same, when used incorrectly.

Oops I mixed my prose with my brackets, GJ

[einselective]

[She's standing back so there isn't anything to drum her fingers on, so instead she folds her arms across her chest.]

Are you going to get on with this or not?

Iiii didn't even really notice. Too distracted by dem new icons!

[tongueamok]

Yes, yes.

[Explaining magic to non-magical folk always seems to frustrate him, but on with his work he goes. Just as before, he places his hands on the glyph and the lines light up energy pouring into them like water through a channel. He has to push a bit more into it this time -- a lot more liquid to imbue -- but the drawing illuminates fully, giving the contents of the jug a soft glow for a moment or two before all the light fades away.

He steps back, flexing his fingers, watching the steam rise from the container.]

You must sleep as well as I do if you need all this.

[Which is to say 'not well at all.']

[einselective]

[It's not hard to recognize the signs of continuously poor sleep, and Marian can't help but recall the state of mild inebriation last time she'd met him, too... a quote-unquote-'solution' proposed several times.

Instead of going for the second jug sitting by the chair she gives him a second, more considering look. She's never been quite sure what to think of the the idea that Fear thinks opening the door will help him. That maybe a certain type of people are being targeted to be brought through the Door.]

An interim measure. I'm sure it'll pass in time.

[Actually she isn't at all sure about that, from the sounds of it.]

All I need to do is be able to focus on my work for long enough.

[tongueamok]

[It will pass, she says. Carlisle has told himself the same thing many times, but is still waiting.]

Long enough? Long enough for what? Until you need to sleep again?

[einselective]

Until we can find a way ...back to our own worlds.

[She doesn't sound sure about that either. It's the goal. It's maybe not her goal, but as far as that goes... Marian doesn't really know any more.

Still with a bit of a thoughtful look, she pauses before asking:]

Do you want to go back?

[tongueamok]

[Hearing her uncertainty makes Carlisle a little more inclined to answer honestly. It's a question he's thought long and hard upon, and he still doesn't rightly know the answer.

Or perhaps he does, and he's just afraid to admit it.]

I don't know. The world I go back to is... not much better than this place. And that's if I go home rather than back to where I was before being brought here.

[einselective]

There's ...worse places to be.

[Marian agrees obliquely.]

But for those who do want to go back... I think they should get a chance, don't you?

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle sighs, rubbing soreness out of his fingers. He might not be sure if he wants to go home, but he knows plenty of people who do, Glacius included. To deny them that chance would be cruel, indeed.]

I suppose. Perhaps you are more altruistic than I am, in that you would work so tirelessly for such an endeavor. I admit that traveling between worlds is not something I'm entirely familiar with, however.

[einselective]

I wouldn't say familiar is the right word for it. But it's at least a goal to work towards.

I'm surprised magic doesn't have that one all wrapped up already, considering that's what half the city seems to think the Door is.

[tongueamok]

Well, there are ways to travel between planes of existence using magic. I'm simply not familiar enough with them to explain them. It's not my area of expertise.

[Though given he's been to two worlds other than his own now, he's starting to wonder if it should have been.]

[einselective]

Maybe it's time to think about learning.

[If it was that easy, all these 'magic' types probably would have left ages ago. But naturally, Marian's inclined to think that the solution to everything is there, with enough work.]

[tongueamok]

Perhaps I will if I ever make it home. As it is, I find it hard to trust any magic I don't know. There are so many ways such things could go wrong, especially when used by people who tend to be careless.

[And he'd consider almost everyone but him as fitting into that category, even his students.]

[einselective]

[Hey why not say it aloud since we're here...]

Let me guess. Which is everyone except you.

[There was definitely a time, not that long ago, where she would have thought in a similar fashion.]

Mistakes happen. It doesn't matter how good you are.

[tongueamok]

[If the disgruntled snort he lets out is any indication, then yes, he means he doesn't trust most magic that isn't his own. People can be such irresponsible things, even if Marian is right: even the most skilled of magicians can make mistakes.]

Is there more you need enchanted while I'm here?

[einselective]

[Wordlessly, Marian haus up the other jug of water -- it's good enough, and should give her some time until she has to ask for this favor again.

Hopefully, she won't, at all. But...]

One more.

[tongueamok]

All right.

[Back he goes to drawing another glyph, as the first one evaporated away.]

Have you been to other worlds, Miss? Beyond this one and your own?

[einselective]

......Yes.

As I said, there are... worse places to be...

[The delivery is flat while she watches him work, but that is definitely a more pronounced shivering.]

While you do that... I'm going to look for a space heater. I think Alphys had one over in the corner somewhere. Must be a draft or something in here.

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle recognizes the tone of someone who speaks from experience, and politely kicks himself for his rude line of questioning as she goes to fetch a heater. He's a bit chilly, but he's always that way; however, he gets the feeling most of Marian's shivering isn't from the temperature.]

Alphys is your, erm. Partner in this establishment, I presume?

[einselective]

Yes. She's, uh, a lizard. [Okay look, she's still getting used to some things.] But very capable. The mess is hers, not mine.

[Because Alphys' side of the lab, ohhhh boy. Marian would have never tolerated this level of disaster in her lab, but this wasn't hers exactly, and there wasn't a lot of choice for an established workspace around here.]

[tongueamok]

A lizard.

[He shakes his head in a, "You know what? I really don't want to know" fashion and keeps drawing.]

I tend to appreciate order myself. There's already entirely too much to be uncertain of here. I need not add the location of my pen to that list.

[einselective]

A very large lizard. [Marian starts out clarifying, realizing just how it sounds, but it just gets worse and...] With little claw fingers and... ah, it isn't important.

[But she does manage to find what was probably an old heater of some kind, and ducks under the table to plug it in, adding to the electromechanical hum of the place and making her voice a bit muffled.]

But you don't have any need for some sort of 'magical' workshop?

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle finishes his glyph, waiting to pull the jug onto it. He'd rather not ruin his handiwork with smudges.]

Well, no. I'm a healer, not a magician by trade.

[einselective]

Ah, of course. No need for modern medicine when you have magical healing.

[Marian assumes. It never ends here, does it.]

[tongueamok]

It's not that doctors and alchemists don't exist where I'm from. Most magicians know a little of the restorative arts, but fully trained healers are relatively uncommon.

[Obviously. Goodness, this woman.]