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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]

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[tongueamok]

Good.

[He takes a long swallow of tea, letting the heat settle into his stiff joints. They grow stiffer by the day.]

It's not so bad, really. The choice was an easy one for me, and we moved my garden, and... hm.

[He falls silent, his mind still turning over how much things changed after that -- for him, for Glacius, for who they are in the city.]

[dedikated]

( In all honesty, with Carlisle's deteriorating health, it's probably for the best that his garden is no longer on a roof. Less stair climbing required. She lets her tea cool before taking a sip of it, quiet and almost thoughtful as the taste blossoms on her tongue. )

How'd you start gardening, anyway?

( She's never really tried to garden, despite the fact that she spent so much time hiding among the lavender plants in her teenage home when the pain of what happened to her parents got to be too much. )

[tongueamok]

My father encouraged me toward alchemy when I was younger. I'm sure he realized quickly that I was not suited for adventuring.

[Or monster-hunting, or elemental magic, or anything his family was known for, really.]

We had a garden just beyond our estate's walls. It hadn't been properly tended to in some time when it was given to me, but it did give me a way to occupy my time between my studies.

[dedikated]

( Yeah, she... can see why someone might think Carlisle wasn't the best choice for adventuring, even before the whole half-dead thing happened. )

Your estate? ( Yes, she does sound amused by that. Careful, Carlisle, you're sounding awful posh right now. )

[tongueamok]

[His eyes flick to her.]

Have I never told you about my home, Kate? The Longinmouths are a celebrated bloodline, particularly in our homeland.

[Which might attribute to some of that constant guilt he feels about not being a very good one.]

[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.

[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.

[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. )

[tongueamok]

Like Faith? [He gives Kate a puzzled look.] What about Faith? What was wrong with Faith?

[Not that he cares -- he's just curious.]

[dedikated]

( Wrong is... the wrong word and Kate's lips quirk upwards. )

Nothing. She's... special. ( In a lot of ways, but Carlisle knew that. )

We call them Named ones. People with certain sets of powers that get a name. One in a million sort of thing that springs up randomly.

Faith's a Phoenix.

[tongueamok]

A Phoenix?

[The word is lost on him, Kate. Forgive him.]

The title sounds fancy, but what unique could she do?

[Because of his reclusive nature, he rarely saw her do anything, and he assumes the ability to coerce birds to move in with you is not a choice skill in any world.]

[dedikated]

Stories said it were a bird of fire that could heal people with its tears and come back to life.

( A shrug. ) Could do most of that. Didn't need to cry to heal anyone. Regenerated her injuries instead of dying in the first place.

[tongueamok]

[A necromantic bird. How utterly dreadful.]

So she was some kind of... pyromancer and healer. That seems counterintuitive.

[dedikated]

( Well the only real version of them is Faith, at least. And she can't come back from the dead. )

Why?

( And no one said powers had to make sense. Look at hers. )

[tongueamok]

Fire is wildly destructive, while reparation is not. If she were to lose control of her pyromancy while attempting to heal, it would be devastating to the victim. And if her healing does not require a firm grasp on her energies as mine do, it could be dangerous in an entirely different way.

[He sips again, wondering if the difference, perhaps, lies in what constitutes a power versus magic.]