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]

[Make that two of them shivering: Carlisle shakes his head, remembering the ship, the crash, and the awful compulsion in his mind all that time far too clearly.]

Though I'll admit I don't know what an 'eh aye' is, I'd rather not remind myself how far I am from home.

[He finishes his glyph, and deems it good enough after giving it a once-over. He moves the jar onto the paper himself, gauging how much liquid is inside.]

[einselective]

Artificial Intelligence. [Marian absently clarifies in a mumble regardless before adding:] Sorry it's so cold in here. I don't think the thermostat [or well, whatever passes for it in these odd dwellings] is working.

[It's actually fairly warm with all the extra lighting; Marian's been bringing in more lamps every time she finds more in the shops too.]

[tongueamok]

It's— nevermind.

[He'd rather not clarify why he was shivering.]

Artificial intelligence would... be like a construct then?

[einselective]

I wouldn't know what you even consider a 'construct'.

[On the other hand, how do you even start with someone so deeply ignorant about the fundamental technological basis of modern society.]

AI doesn't have to have any sort of body, if that's what you mean. Just a very complex set of instructions written into a machine, allowing it to learn independently. No 'magic' involved, and no real life. Hence the 'artificial'.

[tongueamok]

I have only just heard of this thing, and I already hate it.

[Because yes, it does sound like a construct, though constructs do have bodies. The instructions written into something, as well as the possibility it can learn independently, are close enough.

Deciding how much energy he needs to pour into the glyph, Carlisle returns to the point where he'll be placing his hands.]

Constructs include any sort of golem or automata, though it branches as far as living traps and fleshbeasts, though the latter is technically an undead. Constructs have no innate energy, no lives of their own, and yet, they live.

[einselective]

[Just as much as Carlisle doesn't want to hear about technology, the first thing that came to Marian's mind when he said it was 'golem'. And the explanation was, indeed, just as stupid as she suspected.]

Hmph. Tell me, what do people who can't use "magic" do with their lives, where you're from?

[tongueamok]

[Her tone draws Carlisle from his guesstimations, his eyes meeting hers.]

Plenty, actually. It's not a skill everyone has. My uncles for example, were hunters, men who culled the land of dangerous beasts and abominations. One was a very talented magician, while the other hadn't a drop of magical energy at his command. It was the latter who was the better glyphcrafter of the two, however. And he was a fine warrior.

[He gestures to the rest of the room.] I assume your 'technology,' no matter how nefarious it may seem at times, is a tool where you come from. Magic is a tool where I come from. Either way, they are tools to be used, but not everyone is skilled with those tools in the same way.

[einselective]

"A tool anyone can use, if they're inclined. And doesn't drain their life force..."

Not unless something goes terribly wrong, anyway. It says something for how she's starting to get settled in that it's easy to start off as if everything is still fine where she's from. Everything just happened so fast.

She stares sourly at the jug of water instead of meeting Carlisle's gaze in any way whatsoever.

[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?