This post's authors have general content warnings that might apply to the current post.
Next Post »
« Previous Post
Permalink
Isabella slowly ramps up her working speed, and now it includes researching motion-spells (and an embarrassing amount of falling over, but she's working on that, she managed dagger lessons and she can manage this) and writing letters - conventional mail-oriented letters, she is not sending Path on courier errands again anytime soon - to witches who know about nasty magic. (For all her insistence, Metis isn't a specialist, she just believes in a well-rounded education.)

Isabella's grandmother sends her the clan library's Book of Tattoo Spells. A witch from Brazil sends her a curse that matches the parameters she wrote asking about.

"Hey, Kas," says Isabella, climbing up to the attic after fetching the mail and brandishing the latter. "Guess what Niada Ivakesi sent me."
Total: 79
Posts Per Page:
Permalink
Kas and Petaal are snuggling, Petaal in tiger shape, Kas in underwear.

"Is it fun?" he asks cheerfully. "I bet it's fun."
Permalink

"Are cluster headaches fun?" she asks, peering between the spell and them.

Permalink

"Sure!"

Permalink

"Then this is tons of fun, I suppose," says Isabella. "The curse is designed to just give you cluster headaches as, you know, a stable feature of your life that will strike randomly as though you naturally had them, but I think I can get it under finer control if I edit the verse a little, and of course I can lift the curse any time."

Permalink
Kas beams.

"That does sound fun."
Permalink

"She included a printout of the Wikipedia page," says Isabella, "about cluster headaches. Apparently they are widely considered the worst pain that humans experience. If you ask someone who's given birth unanaesthetized and who also gets these, they will prefer the former."

Permalink

Petaal rumbles happily and nuzzles Kas's hair; he laughs and hugs her.

Permalink

"Oookay," laughs Isabella. "And the nickname 'suicide headaches' is apparently not a joke, so, you know, remember that I can take the curse off in under sixty seconds if you want me to, don't go stabbing yourself through the eye or anything because that's harder to fix. ...And if you're going to operate a motor vehicle or anything, let me countercurse you first. I think the bayleaf tattoo will probably keep you from dying on impact if you crash on cloud-pine because you get a headache, but it's witchcraft and it's not as good at cars. And one of the tattoo spells in my book is one that will inform me if something dreadful happens to you so I'd be able to patch you up. But if you're that enthusiastic about it I can do this right now."

Permalink

"Yes I am that enthusiastic about it," Kas says emphatically.

Permalink
Isabella laughs. "Okay then." She gets wine and assorted herbs from the cornucopia that now permanently lives tied around her neck, tucked unobtrusively under the silks. "This is normally intended for casting on less enthusiastic... subjects... so I don't need you to do anything in particular, but you can watch if you want."

Rune rune rune rune rune, and all but the middle one are the same one. Lines of herbs spraying out from the line of symbols in all directions and another line trickled across them. This spell doesn't call for a sacrifice, so Isabella doesn't bother to summon an animal; she just clasps her hands, takes a moment to note the cardinal directions to help her get into the habit, and says a poem that is not in English, except for the second-to last line, which she has changed from its original to "Respite given at my whim" - that's the edit she made for finer control, although she's not terribly confident about mixing languages and the spell might go off as originally designed, thus her caution about motor vehicles.
Permalink
Kas watches all this.

...And then he grins.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes and curling up beside Petaal, "that's nasty. I love you so much."
Permalink
"I want to test the whim-based suppression thing at some point, say when," says Isabella, sitting down and smirking at him.

Goodness. He makes faces.
Permalink
He does. Happy, happy faces.

"Come snuggle us first," he says, holding out his arms.
Permalink

Isabella is perfectly content to oblige!

Permalink
Cuddlessssssss.

Petaal hugs Isabella with her front paws and nuzzles Kas again; Kas tucks his face in against Isabella's neck and hums happily.
Permalink

Path winds up nestled near Petaal's forepaw and between Kas and Isabella's chests, quite comfortably.

Permalink
Good cuddlepile. Best cuddlepile.





A few weeks later, Kas disappears again, the same way he did last time. No goodbye, no note, just gone. He takes Petaal's cloud-pine and nothing else.
Permalink
Okay then. Isabella really doesn't want him to crash; when she notices he's gone she assumes the correct mindset of whimsy and banishes the headaches.

Isabella has plenty to work on. She doesn't make much headway addressing the alethiometer herself, although she does carry on studying her dictionary to see how far she can get. But she's got an entire new branch of magic to figure out, and if Kas isn't back again by the time she's run out of avenues of research on that she can always find him. She's probably getting more done, actually, since he and Petaal don't keep distracting her by being so ludicrously attractive.
Permalink
As seems to be his habit these days, he sends postcards.

The first one comes from Quebec. Augustine thinks you're hilarious. Love you. K&P
Permalink

Isabella adds it to her postcard stack. Hilarious how, she wonders? She can ask when he gets home.

Permalink
It takes about a month before he sends a second one, also from Quebec:

You took away my headaches, didn't you? I liked those!
Permalink

Well, he can have them back when they're not cloud-pining all over creation. She's not that sure of the bayleaf tattoo, and the notification tattoo inside his wrist only tells her when to come looking for him, it doesn't ensure she'll get there any faster.

Permalink

Two days after that: Went to Milliways again. I fucking love my alt.

Permalink

Well. Good for them. Isabella's not planning to have sex with any of hers, but to each their own.

Permalink
Another week, another postcard, this one from Montreal.

I think it would be fun if you pretended to be all crazy and possessive and knifey ♥
Total: 79
Posts Per Page: