On the one hand, magic exists.
On the other hand, ow.
On the first hand, perfect healing.
On the second hand, ow.
On the first hand, flight.
On the second hand, holy fucking ow that one's definitely the worst, yep, ow ow ow.
Since TK is apparently great she puts in her own blue rose to replace the black one. The insubstantial bruising is significantly more pleasant than the other roses' methods of joining. Now, what can she start out doing with telekinesis?
Well, that's vaguely unsatisfactory. Is there a limit to the number of nearby small light objects she can move short imprecise distances?
Can she do a little of this while also getting her up-till-now neglected homework done, it's not as interesting as conjuring and Professor Roth is not particularly forgiving of late assignments.
...
The blue flower hurts a lot less than the black one, it feels kind of weird. Not being able to conjure things feels weird too, she spent long enough practicing that she keeps absentmindedly trying to draw a marble or a necklace or something through and minding the absence.
...
Fuck it. The ache didn't bother her that much, and it would probably be best to get used to it as soon as possible, considering how much worse taking it out and putting it back in is. She doesn't bother to take the blue flower out again (the nonblack flowers barely hurt while they're in, really) before sticking the flower of It Really Really Hurts back in her arm. Ow, but the resulting pain is frankly dramatically much less than the pain of putting it in, so there's that. Great. Let's conjure a bunch of pebbles and juggle them while finishing this worksheet.
If she works mostly on complexity and duration and drops all the non-conjured items she was futzing with, can she simply toss newly-formed items into the pile of floaty things?
Excellent. And maybe test/train her weight limits by generating gradually massier items.
Her concentration is, sadly, diverted as she has to finish the rest of her schoolwork (she has never resented its intrusion more than she does now, this is fun) but she manages to force at least a few more grams out of her capacity before she looks at the time and makes herself go to bed.
The next morning Edie notices the number of blossoms on her sister's forearms and raises an eyebrow.
"The other ones don't really feel like much in comparison to the black one," she says a little defensively, "and it got so that not being able to conjure stuff was more annoying than the pain."
"To return your own sentiments--don't hurt yourself. Well, I mean, besides--you know what I mean."
When a classmate wants to borrow a pen, can she stick her hand in her bag and conjure a pen in it that will last longer than the class period?
She makes a pen that'll last three minutes and scribbles on the margins of a piece of notebook paper with it, then tucks it out of sight. Does the paper stay writ on when it vanishes?
...
This means she's permanently made something. Ink is something. That is so cool. Between this and the fact that the roses heal all injuries maybe it would be a good idea to see if she can make food you can actually eat. Unless food is too complicated and/or massive, in which case she needs to push herself some more. She puts her hand back in her bag and tries to manifest a piece of chocolate.