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

[tongueamok]

It's not too long. It's informative for those who are unfamiliar with such technology.

[That's not what she meant, Carlisle.]

[einselective]

[It would be nice to believe she's being helpful but let's be real, this is also petty pedantry out of irritation with this 'magic' bullshit (and that it actually works). With the same flat and nonplussed tone, she explains:]

The phone can only store a message thirty seconds long. Anything you say after that isn't recorded.

[tongueamok]

[Another pause.]

... Huh.

[Technology is hard, Marian.]

Noted. I will fix it shortly. You said you wanted to talk about my tea?

[einselective]

[It really isn't. But if Carlisle is unsure about technology, Marian is even less so about magic -- which prompts a whole pile of questions.]

Yes. Are you willing to make more? Does it have to be one individual cup at a time, or is it possible to make larger batches at a time?

[tongueamok]

[Goodness, she could give him a run for his money in terms of questioning.]

I assume this means you found its effect satisfactory, despite being cold. The enchant is easy enough, granted you can find a container large enough to hold several glasses' worth. A pitcher or a jug or something would do.

[einselective]

[Oh we're just getting warmed up. It's almost like she has something in mind. That said, Marian still doesn't sound very enthusiastic. "Magic" indeed. And yet, the best she can do is try to nail down details.]

That shouldn't be difficult. Is there a limit on the volume of liquid? Or would it be easier to prepare several smaller batches? Does the figure drawn on the paper need to be drawn by hand each time, or does a copy work? Are you the only one who can 'activate' it, or could others do it as well?

[tongueamok]

[That... certainly is a lot of information.]

Right. First, it isn't so much a limit as it is knowing exactly how strong the enchantment needs to be for that volume, so yes, it is easier to prepare in several smaller batches than a single large one.

Second, it's not a figure, it's a glyph, and a copy would work, so long as the lines are all connected correctly. Some glyphcrafters actually carve stamps of their most commonly utilized glyphs so that they don't have to recopy them by hand every single time. It makes crafting them for the common magician who may prefer to buy them as opposed to write them themselves much easier. Pendlebrook Brimstone actually did that for a time, selling some of his more notable crafts to powerful court magicians. Of course, when someone else is activating a glyph crafted by another, you may run into the problem of a caster not being skilled enough to actually handle the energy output required for the glyph. That's why when I teach, I try to ensure that my students are capable of manipulating their own energy in the first place. It's not for everyone.

[You might want to stop him, Marian. He could go on like this for hours.]

[einselective]

[Hey, the more specific and detailed, the better, in Marian's view. Quantify and qualify.]

Hmm. [She also isn't sure about this talk of 'manipulating energy', whatever that means in Carlisle's specific context. It would be interesting to have a number of sensors set up when he was 'enchanting' things... but that would require equipment she doesn't have here, yet again.] What happens if they can't handle it?

[tongueamok]

Well, you get magical backfire.

[That's said so matter-of-factly. Then he realizes he should probably clarify for the uninformed.]

Er, the glyph doesn't work, or perhaps only partially activates, and the caster usually passes out, or dies in the most extreme of situations. And if not either of those, they still risk aural exsiccation -- er, magical fatigue. The long story short is that if you don't know the limits of your own energy, you shouldn't try activating a glyph.

[einselective]

[That right there is just another good reason not to have too much confidence in whatever it is Carlisle calls magic. Line of questioning finally starting to wind down (for now... that last bit bears revisiting later), Marian finally remarks:]

Duly noted. How long does the enchantment last, or is it permanent?

[tongueamok]

[He'd say the same for technology, but given the world he coems from, that's not entirely a surprise to most people.]

It's relatively permanent. One could dispel it with their own magic, be it a spell or glyph, but until such a thing happens, the tea should be effective. I can't see why anyone would disenchant tea, though. Most dispelling would be used for magical weapons or traps.

[einselective]

Given all of that, have you considered making it available to other residents of the city? It sounds as though a small-scale production would be possible from all you've said so far. I don't know who else you communicated with two days ago, but there are others that I think might find it helpful once in a while.

[Or more than once in a while for all she knows, but let's try to sound at least a little positive here.]

[tongueamok]

I have made it for others, and one of my students knows the glyph herself, but I tend to leave the actual handling of other people to... well, other people.

[Getting out of his house is also scary.]

For example, I let Kate at the clinic deal with handing out those healing trinkets we make. I just provide the energy for them.

[einselective]

If it's a permanent enchantment, there's no reason not to leave some at the clinic. Or the bar, for that matter, for those who want to remain anonymous still...

...wait, you have students here?

[tongueamok]

Two.

[Three if he's counting Frisk, which he's not because he is not teaching a child. They're just observing and happening to pick up a few things here and there. They are not his problem.]

As it turns out, some people from other worlds are compatible with the magic from mine, and it seemed an interesting and useful experiment to determine whether or not they were capable of learning such skills at all.

[einselective]

[This sounds like a terrible idea. In more ways than one.]

Useful...

[Marian hesitates, not really sure how to address this... finally settling for 'not at all']

Never mind. And, well, regardless of your thoughts on providing a community service... I would certainly appreciate your help for personal use for.... uh, a while.

[tongueamok]

That, I can do.

[For a clergyman, he's not big on community service.]

If you'd like, I could come to you, or you could come to my dwelling. Bring whatever sort of container it is you find to keep it in with you.

[einselective]

If you came here, it would work out a little better. [Among other things she wouldn't have to haul a large jug of water halfway across the city. She's getting too old for that kind of lifting, especially considering she's already always got a good ten pounds of hardware carried around on her back.] I'm a couple houses down from the clinic, at the old lab.

[voice] → [action]

[tongueamok]

I will be there shortly, then.

[He doesn't know where the 'old lab' is, but he does know where the clinic is due to his aforementioned dealings with the healing trinkets. In good news, he looks significantly less intoxicated than the last time she saw him.

He's still as nervous as ever though: he's pretty sure he saw some kind of technology in the building through the window, and he's not sure how he feels about that. What is it that they keep in labs, again?]

[action]

[einselective]

[When Marian opens the door, the first answer appears to be 'junk'. Anything scrounged from the stores with the metal, wiring, or circuitry is piled up in the entrance. Not one for pleasantries, she doesn't even bother with a hello.]

Close the door behind you.

[is about the best invitation that can be expected.

Once there's a fridge, microscope, computer, blackboard with a whole bunch of math... and between herself and Alphys the rest of the place has turned into disassembly central, with bits of wires, chips, and metal all sorted into piles and bins. And on what appears to be Marian's side (due to neatness and a lack of anime figures) a couple tidy stacks of papers with more diagrams and mathematical formulae written neatly and precisely.

There's also a couple mismatched but good-sized jugs, emptied and filled with water, sitting beside her chair.]

Do you need a pen? I assume from what you've described so far the exact materials don't matter.

[tongueamok]

[Disassembled or not, the junk in building is an intimidating sight for someone who considers the microwave to be a technological nightmare from a future that he can only hope will not come to pass in his world. He grips his satchel tighter as he follows Marian to her space, his eyes darting around the room fearfully.]

Er, no. I have, ah. I have my own pen. Exact materials do not matter, indeed. One could, um. Inscribe a glyph on anything they chose, really.

[einselective]

[Marian shifts some of the papers around and clears a few bins of wires out of the way to clear a larger space on the desk, hefting one of the jugs up and onto the desk with a heavy 'thunk'. Oblivious to Carlisle's discomfort (preoccupied with her own disgruntlement about 'magic'), she steps back to give him enough space to do his thing, gesturing at the jug.]

All yours.

Even though she watched it carefully the first time, she'll keep an eye on it again this second time around. One good night's sleep doesn't help that much when you've been running on empty for so long, but she at least feels slightly more alert this time. Maybe there was something she missed.]

[tongueamok]

Ah, right.

[Carlisle fishes through his satchel, getting a sheet of paper and his pen. He doesn't seem bothered by Marian's observation, but rather nervous from all the machinery around him. His hand shakes as he pulls out a small jar of ink to fill his pen.]

I, um. Assume you like technology of s- some sort?

[einselective]

[It's only about then that she really notices his discomfort. Giving him a distinctly unimpressed look, in about the same tone as her earlier talk about his poor voice message, she remarks flatly:]

Let me guess. The closest thing to technological advancement where you're from is rubbing two sticks together to make fire.

[Marian, this is not how you talk to someone who's trying to help you.]

[tongueamok]

Why would you use sticks when you have magic or sunstones at your disposal?

[That doesn't really answer the question, and yet it does.]