Two girls are moving their hands through the air and speaking together in perfect parallel.
Two girls are looking expectantly at a circle of red chalk on their floor.
Two girls have done something exceptionally stupid.
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Post last updated:
cooperation
Harry Dresden in Elcenia
Harry Dresden is currently exiting the shower, reaching for a towel and mourning the fact that, for all that she would have damned his soul to Hell and probably made him eat puppies for breakfast, Lasciel's shadow was really convenient when the water heater was broken. He misses hot showers, dammit. And, not that he's going to admit it to anyone, but... he kind of misses her, too.
He doesn't have much time to do so, because as his feet hit the tile, they're suddenly not hitting the tile anymore. He's on a hardwood floor, and there are two girls waving their hands around and- shit, are those pointy ears? He hopes they're not faeries.
He really, really hopes they're not faeries.
Towel in hand, he goes into something like a fighting stance while drawing in as much power as he can. He feels his skin prickling with energy. "Alright, I don't know who or what the hell you might be, but I'm a wizard and I will not hesitate to start setting things on fire. How did you do this?"
He doesn't have much time to do so, because as his feet hit the tile, they're suddenly not hitting the tile anymore. He's on a hardwood floor, and there are two girls waving their hands around and- shit, are those pointy ears? He hopes they're not faeries.
He really, really hopes they're not faeries.
Towel in hand, he goes into something like a fighting stance while drawing in as much power as he can. He feels his skin prickling with energy. "Alright, I don't know who or what the hell you might be, but I'm a wizard and I will not hesitate to start setting things on fire. How did you do this?"
The girls titter - and the pointy-eared one blushes - exactly as though, well, they've just had a man fresh out of the shower appear in their room and they're adolescent girls. The brown one averts her eyes, and the pale one goes for the bookshelf, murmuring something in an incomprehensible language.
Harry is confused, for a moment. Then he realizes why they're laughing, and he blushes conspicuously. He goes to cover himself, but then realizes that it would involve letting his guard down, which isn't something he wants to do around two weird girls who can summon corporeal entities. He founders for a moment, going redder and redder, until he realizes that he still has the towel. He mutters unpleasantnesses, wraps it around his waist as quickly as he can, then gets his hands back up into a useful position.
He clears his throat. "Okay, that aside, my questions and threats stand. Who are you, where am I, I have fire. Not that you can... understand a word I'm saying... Dammit. Am I going to have to start miming? If I have to mime, I'm putting this towel on more securely."
He clears his throat. "Okay, that aside, my questions and threats stand. Who are you, where am I, I have fire. Not that you can... understand a word I'm saying... Dammit. Am I going to have to start miming? If I have to mime, I'm putting this towel on more securely."
The brown girl says something apparently to him, not that she's gotten any more comprehensible in the last few seconds. The blonde one flips through her book and finds what she's looking for. She waves her hand through the air and speaks.
"You should, uh, be able to talk to us now," giggles the brown one.
"You should, uh, be able to talk to us now," giggles the brown one.
By this point, he's lost most of his steam with the threats. If they were going to hurt him, he's pretty sure they'd be less... teenager-y, about it. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Okay, so... what the hell is going on, for a start. I'd love to know that. What's going on, who are you, how in God's green hell can you summon corporeal entities, etcetera. And are you going to hand me to the vampires on a silver platter, because that's kind of how my life has been going lately." After some redness and some chewing on his lip, he adds in a rush, "And my water heater's broken, so, what- It's not- That's not indicative. Not that it's relevant. You're like twelve. But still. Not indicative."
"We got the spell out of an old book!" says the brown one. "It's just for a few degrees and then we can send you straight home. My name's Saasnil, and that's Korulen. What's not indicative of what?"
"What would vampires want you plated for? That seems kind of beside the point, and also, you look like a human to me," says Korulen.
"What would vampires want you plated for? That seems kind of beside the point, and also, you look like a human to me," says Korulen.
Harry sighs. "It's... good, I guess, to meet you, my name is Harry, conjure it at your own risk. And try not conjuring me, either. And- indicative things- that is irrelevant, I didn't say anything, nothing was said. Anyway. I'm kind of quietly amazed that you can do terrestrial summoning and you haven't heard of the Vampire War, but long story short vampires are dicks, I killed a bunch of them, now they're kind of at war with the wizards and most particularly at war with me. They would really like me dead."
At the mention of spells out of old books, Harry would feel an urge to spit on the ground and turn around twice, but he's not actually a grizzled prospector. Instead, he puts on his most potent Warden Face. "And as a warden of the White Council, I'd like to inform you that spells out of old books are a terrible idea. They lead to things like Chicago being eaten by necromantic death tornadoes. That kind of thing can get your fool head chopped off for being a warlock." This ominous pronouncement is slightly weakened by the fact that he's wearing only a threadbare towel. Most of his pronouncements will probably be weakened by that, really. "It's good that you checked you can reverse the spell, though. Some idiots do this stuff on a whim and just assume that whatever they do can be reversed, because why would magic ever permanently inconvenience them?" (He's not talking to his past self here, why on earth would you think that? That's very uncharitable and not at all true.)
At the mention of spells out of old books, Harry would feel an urge to spit on the ground and turn around twice, but he's not actually a grizzled prospector. Instead, he puts on his most potent Warden Face. "And as a warden of the White Council, I'd like to inform you that spells out of old books are a terrible idea. They lead to things like Chicago being eaten by necromantic death tornadoes. That kind of thing can get your fool head chopped off for being a warlock." This ominous pronouncement is slightly weakened by the fact that he's wearing only a threadbare towel. Most of his pronouncements will probably be weakened by that, really. "It's good that you checked you can reverse the spell, though. Some idiots do this stuff on a whim and just assume that whatever they do can be reversed, because why would magic ever permanently inconvenience them?" (He's not talking to his past self here, why on earth would you think that? That's very uncharitable and not at all true.)
"Racist much?" asks Korulen. "Like, wow, I have friends who are vampires."
"Reversing spells is easy, you just do them backwards," says Saasnil.
"Maybe he's got offworld magic," suggests Korulen. "Or something. Which doesn't work like that? I mean, we did get him out of another world."
"Reversing spells is easy, you just do them backwards," says Saasnil.
"Maybe he's got offworld magic," suggests Korulen. "Or something. Which doesn't work like that? I mean, we did get him out of another world."
Harry looks absolutely poleaxed at the phrase "another world." There are no other worlds, there's the physical realm and the Nevernever and-
the Outside. Great. He's been summoned by teenage Outsiders. They don't look particularly tentacled, but stereotypes have never helped anyone. For a moment he wonders, inanely, if they're going to get in trouble for reaching beyond the Outer Gates. Then he remembers that they would like nothing better than to weaken the fabric of reality, so they probably aren't all that careful about the Laws of Magic.
But... he hasn't met that many Outsiders, but the ones he's seen somehow make him doubt that they come in "giggling teenager" flavor. Maybe there are more things outside of heaven and earth than are etcetera etcetera. He doesn't really know how he'd test it, without possibly aiming his Sight at a pair of Outsiders, though. Which he isn't really keen on. He likes keeping his brain where it is.
"Yeah, if you can do spells backward we definitely have different kinds of magic," he says instead of freaking out at the nice possibly-tentacle-monsters. "And if you have vampire friends, I'm pretty sure we have different vampires too. Unless they happen to be sparkly and eat sex energy, in which case I'd be kind of a hypocrite to knock you for it."
the Outside. Great. He's been summoned by teenage Outsiders. They don't look particularly tentacled, but stereotypes have never helped anyone. For a moment he wonders, inanely, if they're going to get in trouble for reaching beyond the Outer Gates. Then he remembers that they would like nothing better than to weaken the fabric of reality, so they probably aren't all that careful about the Laws of Magic.
But... he hasn't met that many Outsiders, but the ones he's seen somehow make him doubt that they come in "giggling teenager" flavor. Maybe there are more things outside of heaven and earth than are etcetera etcetera. He doesn't really know how he'd test it, without possibly aiming his Sight at a pair of Outsiders, though. Which he isn't really keen on. He likes keeping his brain where it is.
"Yeah, if you can do spells backward we definitely have different kinds of magic," he says instead of freaking out at the nice possibly-tentacle-monsters. "And if you have vampire friends, I'm pretty sure we have different vampires too. Unless they happen to be sparkly and eat sex energy, in which case I'd be kind of a hypocrite to knock you for it."
That would be a point towards alternate-universe vampires, then. In which case Harry has probably just accidentally sounded racist against some perfectly nice bloodsuckers. Fantastic. "Okay, there are three types of vampire in my world. The Black Court are basically walking evil corpses; they're the worst and they should be destroyed whenever they show up. The Red Court, who want me dead, are awful rubbery demon-things that drink blood and enslave people a lot; they are also the worst and should be destroyed. The White Court are beautiful sparkly folks who feed on spirit energy through sex. Or fear or despair, but the sexy ones seem like the most common. They're sometimes alright, weaselly bastards though they may be."
Harry is prepared to give these weird Outsider vampires the benefit of the doubt, for however long these weird girls are going to keep him trapped in a circle. He doesn't exactly have high hopes for them given their counterparts in his world, though.
Harry is prepared to give these weird Outsider vampires the benefit of the doubt, for however long these weird girls are going to keep him trapped in a circle. He doesn't exactly have high hopes for them given their counterparts in his world, though.
"Those don't sound like the same things as each other, let alone regular vampires," says Korulen.
"I'm not sure this offworlder is the best offworlder. Maybe we should put him back and get another one," says Saasnil.
"It's random, the spell's random," says Korulen, "if we put him back and get another one it'll just be another random person who might not be any more to your liking, and it doesn't matter for proving we could do the spell."
"I guess."
"I'm not sure this offworlder is the best offworlder. Maybe we should put him back and get another one," says Saasnil.
"It's random, the spell's random," says Korulen, "if we put him back and get another one it'll just be another random person who might not be any more to your liking, and it doesn't matter for proving we could do the spell."
"I guess."
That's kind of what Harry's hoping for, but he bristles at the judgment anyway. "Well excuse me for not being some kind of perfectly inoffensive hippie or something. I tend not to like species that murder and enslave humans as a matter of course. I also tend not to like people who kidnap me out of my damn apartment, in case you were wondering."
"Sorry," says Saasnil sheepishly.
"Nemaar should be out of his class in a couple degrees and all we want to do is show you to him and then home you go," says Korulen.
"Nemaar should be out of his class in a couple degrees and all we want to do is show you to him and then home you go," says Korulen.
"Getting anything into the circle with you would take longer than we want to keep you in the first place," says Korulen. "Sorry."
"Fine," he grumps. He sits himself on the floor, careful of the towel, and glares pointedly at the runes surrounding him. They don't even make any sense. Damn magic aliens.
"We do have time to get rid of him and get a different one, though," says Saasnil.
"I mean, I guess, if - oh no -"
"What?"
"Oh no oh no Saasnil you can't co-cast a reversal stupid stupid how did I forget -"
"I mean, I guess, if - oh no -"
"What?"
"Oh no oh no Saasnil you can't co-cast a reversal stupid stupid how did I forget -"
This sounds... negative. "I'm taking back what I said about you not being idiots."
Okay. He may be stuck here. BAD. But if he's stuck here, what needs to happen? Molly needs to find another master before the Council beheads her. The Sword needs to go to someone who can keep it and/or give it to some worthy knight. Bob... he's tempted to take Bob with him into this brave new world, but the magic knowledge skull should probably go to the people who are trying to keep Chicago from catching fire in his absence. Somebody needs to tell Murphy. God.
This is shaping up to be a much worse day than he thought.
Okay. He may be stuck here. BAD. But if he's stuck here, what needs to happen? Molly needs to find another master before the Council beheads her. The Sword needs to go to someone who can keep it and/or give it to some worthy knight. Bob... he's tempted to take Bob with him into this brave new world, but the magic knowledge skull should probably go to the people who are trying to keep Chicago from catching fire in his absence. Somebody needs to tell Murphy. God.
This is shaping up to be a much worse day than he thought.
"I have to tell my mom -"
"DON'T I'll be EXPELLED -"
"You won't be expelled! If I can't reverse it alone you're the backup, you'll be in trouble but they won't expel you."
"Don't tell her - maybe there's - can we send him -"
"We can't send him, he's not Elcenian!"
"DON'T I'll be EXPELLED -"
"You won't be expelled! If I can't reverse it alone you're the backup, you'll be in trouble but they won't expel you."
"Don't tell her - maybe there's - can we send him -"
"We can't send him, he's not Elcenian!"
Maybe I could apply for a dual citizenship, he thinks with a slightly manic mental giggle. God, this is a mess. If he could just send back some letters for Karrin and Michael and-
"Can you send messages back to where you got me from?" he demands. Because if they can, this becomes ever so slightly less terrible. Still the worst day he's had in a good while (the thing with the ghouls aside), but not quite "my lover turned into a vampire, I killed several dozen innocent humans, and I just caused the biggest supernatural war in recent memory" level.
"Can you send messages back to where you got me from?" he demands. Because if they can, this becomes ever so slightly less terrible. Still the worst day he's had in a good while (the thing with the ghouls aside), but not quite "my lover turned into a vampire, I killed several dozen innocent humans, and I just caused the biggest supernatural war in recent memory" level.
"Y-yeah, we can send letters, or, like, people who know what they're doing can send letters, I'm so stupid -" says Korulen.
"Don't tell," whimpers Saasnil.
"I have to."
"I can't get expelled I can't I can't -"
"You won't be. I have to tell my mom."
Korulen closes her eyes.
After a moment, the door opens, and a man who looks like he's probably Korulen's dad, complete with pointy ears, opens the door.
"Don't tell," whimpers Saasnil.
"I have to."
"I can't get expelled I can't I can't -"
"You won't be. I have to tell my mom."
Korulen closes her eyes.
After a moment, the door opens, and a man who looks like he's probably Korulen's dad, complete with pointy ears, opens the door.
"Hello, reasonable adult!" says Harry with brittle cheer. "You look like the kind of person who is going to start apologizing and telling me there's just nothing you can do, you're terribly sorry. Stop me if I'm wrong."
"I apologize on behalf of my daughter and student," says the man gravely. "There may be something to be done, but not hastily - Korulen - why?"
"Nemaar was teasing Saasnil and she wanted to prove him wrong and she got me to help I was stupid -"
Her father sighs.
"Nemaar was teasing Saasnil and she wanted to prove him wrong and she got me to help I was stupid -"
Her father sighs.
"Sounds about right," Harry comments. "Wanting to prove people wrong and being stupid have gotten me far in life. Hell, that's half my career right there."
Harry has had a very long day, and his reaction time is slow enough that it takes him a fraction of a second too long to look away from the man's eyes before he's
falling
spiralling
into them.
Shit.
falling
spiralling
into them.
Shit.
It's very green in there.
This man is not himself. Or rather, he is not alone. He is wrapped up in, interpolated by, coextensive with, someone who is not him - or at least wasn't; it looks like they've been doing this for a very long time.
He's also a teacher, a wizard, an academic, but these are all relative afterthoughts compared to the She that is -
- shutting the soulgaze down hard, kicking Harry out of her husband's mind.
When Harry's paying attention to the world again, she's in the room, standing beside him, the same green of her presence showing up in her hair, hand over Kanaat's eyes, frowning at him.
"What was that?" she asks.
Harry cannot answer at the moment, because he has a psychic hangover that feels like Magog is hammering on the inside of his skull with an ice pick. Also, he's gibbering a bit. That... that wasn't quite as bad as gazing on the Faerie Queens on the field of battle, but she's really, REALLY big. That kind of thing stays with you.
After gasping and trying not to vomit for a while, he stutters out, "It was... it was, not on purpose. Soulgaze. I'm sorry, I, don't hurt, don't hurt me?"
After gasping and trying not to vomit for a while, he stutters out, "It was... it was, not on purpose. Soulgaze. I'm sorry, I, don't hurt, don't hurt me?"
Harry breathes. He recites a mnemonic in his head. The memory recedes into the background of his mind (it'll never go away, it'll never fade, but it's not everything anymore). Once he trusts himself to speak, he explains.
"It's... when a wizard, a wizard from my world, looks in someone's eyes for too long, we see into their soul, and they see ours. It's not usually that, uh, dramatic. You're a scary lady. In a complimentary sense. Why is your husband you?"
"It's... when a wizard, a wizard from my world, looks in someone's eyes for too long, we see into their soul, and they see ours. It's not usually that, uh, dramatic. You're a scary lady. In a complimentary sense. Why is your husband you?"
"He isn't, exactly. We're mindlinked," she says. "It's among my abilities. Another thing I can do with them is determine if it's safe to let you out of the circle, with your permission to perform a minimally invasive scan."
At the mention of scanning he reflexively crawls as far away from her as he can within the confines of the circle. Minimally invasive sounds... vaguely promising, though. And he's getting sick of this circle.
"How minimally?" he asks, instead of "Get the hell away from me with your creepy psychic god-magic."
"How minimally?" he asks, instead of "Get the hell away from me with your creepy psychic god-magic."
"All I need to know is if you're liable to be violent or lawbreaking in a way that is more inconvenient to deal with than keeping you in this circle is likely to be. I can leave everything irrelevant to those questions completely alone."
"That sounds all right," he allows. And it's not like there's a chance in Hell I could stop her, he adds mentally. He's pretty sure he's not violent or lawbreaking enough to cause significant trouble unless trouble is caused to him first.
"This won't feel like anything. Just relax," she advises.
It doesn't feel like anything.
She steps forward and smudges the chalk line. "There you go. Unfortunately, we can't send you home yet, but you don't have to stay in the circle."
It doesn't feel like anything.
She steps forward and smudges the chalk line. "There you go. Unfortunately, we can't send you home yet, but you don't have to stay in the circle."
"Well, thanks anyway," he says. With a glance down at his state of attire, he adds, "There any chance I could get some clothes? Preferably the clothes that I own?"
"We can summon belongings, send things, even summon other people and then send them back - it's only you who's stuck," she says. "Let's get out of this particular room, first, though. Please maintain a hold on your towel. There are a lot of teenage girls on this hall."
Kanaat opens the door.
Kanaat opens the door.
Holding onto his towel is, at the moment, Harry's number one priority. He will guard this towel with his life. (Public nudity is a thing that happens to him, on a distressingly frequent basis, but he'd rather not make a hobby of it. Especially not with teenage girls involved.)
"So, I can say goodbye, or whatever I need to say, in person? That's... that's good. Thank you." Saying goodbye with a heartfelt letter was never going to sit well with him. Saying goodbye at all doesn't sit well with him, but there are ways and ways. Plus, if he ever gets back and he did just send a letter, Murphy would probably punch him. And it'd hurt.
"So, I can say goodbye, or whatever I need to say, in person? That's... that's good. Thank you." Saying goodbye with a heartfelt letter was never going to sit well with him. Saying goodbye at all doesn't sit well with him, but there are ways and ways. Plus, if he ever gets back and he did just send a letter, Murphy would probably punch him. And it'd hurt.
"I recommend sending letters first so that whoever we summon for you doesn't appear while they were in the middle of something," says Green Lady. "But yes. Also, you shouldn't expect to be stuck here forever. When Korulen has bound a familiar she will probably have enough channeling capacity to send you back without having to co-cast."
Harry reddens slightly at the thought of inadvertently catching Karrin the same way they got him. Or, for that matter, Michael. "Yes, letters, good policy. Warnings to not be naked for a while."
He doesn't respond to her second point. He's long since learned that Murphy's Law is not just a suggestion. And he's a bit worried that by the time he gets back, it might not be a world he wants to live in. He's not bigheaded or anything, but it doesn't escape his notice that he's personally stopped the apocalypse four or five times in the past seven years.
He doesn't respond to her second point. He's long since learned that Murphy's Law is not just a suggestion. And he's a bit worried that by the time he gets back, it might not be a world he wants to live in. He's not bigheaded or anything, but it doesn't escape his notice that he's personally stopped the apocalypse four or five times in the past seven years.
"Exactly."
At the end of the hall is a closet. Green Lady, her accessory, and Harry - assuming he obeys her gestured suggestion - enter this closet.
At the end of the hall is a closet. Green Lady, her accessory, and Harry - assuming he obeys her gestured suggestion - enter this closet.
Harry raises an eyebrow (or something like that - he's working on the expression, okay), but follows her in on the assumption that the closet is more than it appears. If she's going to store him in the supply cupboard, he reserves the right to be confused and irritated.
There isn't any evidence of supply storage in the closet.
"Headmaster's office," she says, and it moves. Sideways.
"Headmaster's office," she says, and it moves. Sideways.
Harry lurches a bit, but takes it in his stride. "Is this technological, or do you just have enough magic lying around that you can be hilariously excessive with your enchanted items?"
"I'm Harry, nice to meet you," he responds. "You really weren't kidding about that "minimally invasive" thing, huh." He appreciates that. Unless this exchange was just to throw him off guard, but he's not dealing with Mab, here; he can afford to be slightly charitable with his assumptions.
"Your name wasn't attached to any of my questions," she says.
The lift starts going down. Then forwards. Then up.
The lift starts going down. Then forwards. Then up.
Harry leans against the closet wall and enjoys the ride. It's been a while since he was on a rollercoaster or anything. Inertia is fun!
A thought strikes him. "So, how advanced is your technology here? Because wizards kind of mess up anything past the invention of the steam engine, and I'd rather not break all your stuff, you seem like nice people."
A thought strikes him. "So, how advanced is your technology here? Because wizards kind of mess up anything past the invention of the steam engine, and I'd rather not break all your stuff, you seem like nice people."
"Well, I don't know what a steam engine is, if that answers your question," says Keo.
The lift comes to a halt and opens on an office with a lot of bookhelves and a desk and some chairs. Kanaat heads for the bookshelves and looks for a book.
The lift comes to a halt and opens on an office with a lot of bookhelves and a desk and some chairs. Kanaat heads for the bookshelves and looks for a book.
"That's reassuring."
Harry finds a chair and weighs the benefit of sitting down against potentially offending the dragony goddess woman by getting her chair wet. He eventually decides that he's tired enough that he doesn't care if she decides to smite him. As usual.
Harry finds a chair and weighs the benefit of sitting down against potentially offending the dragony goddess woman by getting her chair wet. He eventually decides that he's tired enough that he doesn't care if she decides to smite him. As usual.
She doesn't protest about the chair. She rummages in the desk and comes up with square paper and a stick of graphite (there's a rubber grip on it, but it's not wrapped in wood like a pencil). "For your letters," she says.
"Thanks." He takes the stick and the paper and starts writing.
After a few minutes, he writes out a letter in a cramped, spidery hand, then folds it up and writes "KARRIN, READ THIS" at the top. "Can she respond?" he asks.
After a few minutes, he writes out a letter in a cramped, spidery hand, then folds it up and writes "KARRIN, READ THIS" at the top. "Can she respond?" he asks.
"We can summon the paper back again after sending it. Leave room," suggests Keo.
Kanaat has found what he's looking for and is now drawing on the floor.
Kanaat has found what he's looking for and is now drawing on the floor.
Harry nods, then adds "Respond on back" to the note. He reconsiders, takes another sheet, folds it into the first, and scratches out "back" to replace it with "sheet attached". "Okay, I think we're good."
"Did you give her a time constraint on writing back?" Keo asks. "We need to either know when to summon the letter back, or scry on her to find out, and the latter has several disadvantages."
He slaps his forehead. "Respond on sheet attached" gets a neighbor reading "within one hour". "That sound good to you?" he asks.
"Assuming it gives her enough time," agrees Keo. "First order of business, clothes. If you'll go put your hand in that loop coming off the first circle -" Kanaat is now drawing a second circle - "we can collect whatever clothes you concentrate on, one article at a time."
He goes to do so. "Can that do other objects? Because I have kind of a lot of magic stuff that I wouldn't want to have to re-enchant."
"...If I'm harmless, they're harmless?" hazards Harry. "Guns don't kill people, people kill people? I use them in self-defense? If it's a problem I can just summon the ones that aren't weaponry and Molly could take the heavy stuff, it'd do her a lot of good anyway. She's bad at the whole "crush your enemies" thing."
"No one is likely to attack you here," says Keo. "If someone does, you can think my name really hard and I'll hear it; I'd rather not have weapons on the campus."
Harry pouts a bit. They're taking away his toys! "Well, that's a welcome change, I guess. Molly will love the blasting rod. I can still have my staff, though, right? That's a general-purpose tool that I can use to hurt people, but I don't have to. And it's got sentimental value."
"Yes. Clothes." He retrieves: pants! Pants are a wonderful invention. He also retrieves a shirt, and socks, and shoes, and a leather duster jacket. This last he clutches to himself as though it were his dearest friend. He quickly dons them, since he's dried off about enough to do so. He looks much more comfortable. Not, like, particularly comfortable, he's never particularly comfortable, but he looks less uncomfortable.
He considers. He hates parting with his focus items, but Molly really does need the blasting rod and the shield bracelet more than he does. And the force rings. He has the duster, at least; it'd never fit anyone else. Advantages to being taller than any human being has a right to be. "Just my staff and a couple of spell components, I guess," he mutters. He would be kicking rocks, were there rocks to kick.
"Sure. Put it in the other circle, same thing with the hand, concentrate on where you want to put it. It can be just near the recipient if you don't know where they are."
He nods. "Good, good. I think Murphy would probably be getting ready for bed by now, so it shouldn't be too hard to get it to her." He concentrates, and the letter goes.
Once that's taken care of, Keo says, "So, while you're here, the school is responsible for you. We can give you a pass to the cafeteria and put you in an empty dormitory room and if there's anything you need that it would make more sense to buy than summon I'll have Korulen take you shopping at her own expense."
He nods again. "Sounds good. It's not like I can raise a tower from the ground or something, so it's nice to have housing options. Homelessness is not fun, by all accounts." He chews a lip, then says, "And I should probably apologize to those girls. They were dumb, but I didn't have to be that mean."
Harry sighs. "I know, but I don't like being mean to girls. And if we went after everybody who made a stupid mistake, I wouldn't be here."
"Well, since we didn't wind up having to keep you in the circle indefinitely, you will be able to find them in the same room - Korulen earlier, since she's the one I'm sending shopping with you for whatever incidentals."
"Oh, uh, I gave her an hour. It's a pretty long time, it's- I guess I can't rely on the idea that our days would be the same length. It's... sixty seconds times sixty? Where a second is like," he pauses, "that long. That's not actually helpful. It's a pretty long time. In case she was in the shower or something, or in case she wanted Molly or somebody to check that I had actually written the letter. Should it have been less?"
"No, that's fine. So in about... an angle we'll summon the letter back. Which doesn't leave a lot of time for shopping, but you could get to the city and back if you walked reasonably quickly, or we could show you your room and make sure you know how the relevant facilities work."
He considers these options. "I'd be better off seeing the room, I think. And maybe getting in that apology. I can go shopping later. Preferably as much later as possible."
Harry is not a fan of shopping. He is less of a fan of shopping with other people's money. The amount to which he is a fan of shopping with other people's money in a foreign world cannot be measured by conventional instruments.
Speaking of which, money; he should try to get some. "Incidentally, is there some kind of a job I could get? I'm good at finding things and I can put up wards and stuff. Or make some enchanted items, though it's not my specialty." His specialty being killing monsters, which he has been led to believe is a bit of a niche market here.
Harry is not a fan of shopping. He is less of a fan of shopping with other people's money. The amount to which he is a fan of shopping with other people's money in a foreign world cannot be measured by conventional instruments.
Speaking of which, money; he should try to get some. "Incidentally, is there some kind of a job I could get? I'm good at finding things and I can put up wards and stuff. Or make some enchanted items, though it's not my specialty." His specialty being killing monsters, which he has been led to believe is a bit of a niche market here.
"Warding's basically covered to everyone's satisfaction... finding you might find a niche if you undercharge commercial wizarding outfits. Items might depend on the items." She leads him back into the lift; Kanaat remains behind.
"Terrific," he grumbles. "You know, my job would be a lot easier if you were at war or something. I mean, I'm glad you're not, but my brand identity is kind of heavy on the explosions. Items, I can charge them up with short-term effects mostly limited to telekinetic force, fire, or air manipulation. I could make a lighter of some kind, but I can't imagine you guys have this much magic and not lighters. And I could make you some very potent weaponry or decent shielding amulets, but you guys seem to be some kind of utopian peace commune or something. Other than that, my primary use is pretty much killing things or getting stuff off the top shelf. Which is kind of depressing."
"This particular country is entirely demilitarized and pacifistic, sorry to disappoint," she says, smiling slightly. "There is no shortage of ways to set things on fire. Other countries might find you more interesting."
Harry grimaces. "I'm not thrilled that my best option looks to be becoming a weapons manufacturer for countries I know nothing about. I'll stick with mooching off the nanny state until and unless I find somebody who looks like they could really use the help, I guess. And find lost puppies for pocket change in the meanwhile."
"You're not mooching off the state, you're accepting damages from the school. If you'd prefer to mooch off the state, they'll let you, though. Are lost puppies a common problem where you're from? Don't their parents keep track of them?"
"Well, at least accepting damages sounds a little nicer. Hadn't really thought of it that way. And usually it'd be pet dogs, who are a bit harder for a family to keep in one place than it would be for their mom. They run away without realizing they're doing it, and then they can't find their way back. I don't charge as much for finding dogs, they need finding more than whatever heirloom whoever dropped down the back of the couch." And Mouse would probably glare at him if he did. Very smart dog. Very judgmental too.
"I don't think we have dogs here, whatever those are," says Keo. The lift lets them out in a dorm hall, deserted; she picks a room and lets him into it.
He enters the room. "It is weird that you don't have dogs. I don't know, maybe something's messed up about my brain, but I find that weirder than the fact that you have freaky alien magic that can summon random humans. Speaking of which, is there any way for me to get my hands on some of said magic? It's always nice to have as many resources as you can get, back in my world, and I don't see any reason I shouldn't try here too."
He thinks it could be a nice surprise for Nicodemus if he ended up in a circle rated to hold literally anyone imaginable. Or Cowl. Or maybe summoning up Mavra just in time for the sunrise. He can't help smiling a little at the thought.
He thinks it could be a nice surprise for Nicodemus if he ended up in a circle rated to hold literally anyone imaginable. Or Cowl. Or maybe summoning up Mavra just in time for the sunrise. He can't help smiling a little at the thought.
"I doubt very much that you have any of the Elcenian forms of magic. You have to be born with them; everyone here is born with a channeling capacity for wizardry but you likely don't have one."
"Damn." It's not like he was really expecting to get game-breaking alien magic, but it sure would have been nice. Although, since he's in Gamebreaker Wizard Land anyway... "Would it be alright if I hired some wizard or another to help me destroy an undead being of ultimate evil who wants me dead?" He thinks for a moment. "Or, like, a few undead monstrosities. I've got a list. Maybe I could get a bulk rate."
It would make his job a lot easier if he could get rid of a couple of the top vampires, and sunlight's pretty easy to come by. It seems a shame to waste it.
It would make his job a lot easier if he could get rid of a couple of the top vampires, and sunlight's pretty easy to come by. It seems a shame to waste it.
"Does it count as murder if the victim is already dead? And, like, super evil. You can confirm with your psychic woo-woo dragon magic, really really evil." If anyone is an exception to laws against murder, he's pretty sure Mavra and the Lords of Outer Night fit into that niche.
"If it's still illegal, I can visit this world's requisite hive of scum and villainy and get it done there. It's just more convenient if I can source it locally." He pauses. "What is this world and/or country called, anyway? I'm realizing that I have some holes in my geographic knowledge. It's a noted failing of the American educational system."
"If it's still illegal, I can visit this world's requisite hive of scum and villainy and get it done there. It's just more convenient if I can source it locally." He pauses. "What is this world and/or country called, anyway? I'm realizing that I have some holes in my geographic knowledge. It's a noted failing of the American educational system."
"We don't have a problem with dead people doing things, around here, so there are no exceptions for dead people per se. I'm also not above the law with my dragon magic - I could get away with it but that doesn't make it legal. You would probably have more luck on the legality front in, say, Oridaan, but everything will be very expensive. This world is Elcenia and the country is Esmaar, and you're in the Binaaralav Academy of Wizardry just outside the city of Paraasilan."
Harry nods. "Well, I have something to save up for, I guess. Expensive trip to Oridaan for cheaty monster-killing and, I don't know, fancy chocolates. Nice firm goal." He files it away somewhere under "things that should definitely be accomplished by the time I get back to Earth", and taps his feet a few times in what may be a suppressed jig of happiness.
"So, should we find the girls, then? I have to say, I'm feeling a hell of a lot better about this unexpected trip now that I've hacked the vampire war. If it didn't seem like it'd encourage risky behavior, I'd probably be thanking them."
"So, should we find the girls, then? I have to say, I'm feeling a hell of a lot better about this unexpected trip now that I've hacked the vampire war. If it didn't seem like it'd encourage risky behavior, I'd probably be thanking them."
"Don't thank them, please," says Keo dryly. "It would cause disciplinary problems. If you want to go back to their room -" She gives him the name of their hall and room number, and reminds him of his own hall and room number. "If you need anything, think my name really hard, I'll be able to answer."
"Good to know! Your omniscience is somewhat creepy and very convenient."
He writes the numbers on a notepad he keeps in the pocket of the duster (pockets, so convenient, especially compared to towels) and makes a concerted effort not to outright skip down the hall to the girls' room. He just theoretically almost solved the second-worst mistake he ever made. It's a good day for Harry, for the White Council, and for the continent of South America at large, though they don't know it.
He writes the numbers on a notepad he keeps in the pocket of the duster (pockets, so convenient, especially compared to towels) and makes a concerted effort not to outright skip down the hall to the girls' room. He just theoretically almost solved the second-worst mistake he ever made. It's a good day for Harry, for the White Council, and for the continent of South America at large, though they don't know it.
"I'm not omniscient," says Keo, and then she casts a spell and disappears, leaving him to direct the lift where he likes.
With some consultation of his notepad, he arrives at Korulen and Saasnil's room. Knock, knock! He really hopes they're not still crying, because that would be deeply uncomfortable and he's known to be bad with crying girls! Even crying girls who may or may not be half dragon, and wow is he ever having to remind himself that dragons here do not appear to be nigh-omnipotent as a species. (Keo aside. She is a special case, he can see that much.)
Korulen opens the door.
"Oh, um, hi," she says. "Did you want to go shopping now? Mom said you might want to go shopping and that I should take you whenever."
"Oh, um, hi," she says. "Did you want to go shopping now? Mom said you might want to go shopping and that I should take you whenever."
Harry tries to look as nonthreatening and polite as it is possible for a scruffy 6'10 man with a stick and a trenchcoat can look. "Nah, the shopping can come later, I accidentally did a thing that resulted in scheduling. I actually kind of came here to apologize."
"Uh, we're the ones who stupidly summoned you and got you stranded here, you don't need to apologize to us..."
He scratches his head awkwardly. "Yeah, but I was - pretty mean about it, and you were already having a really hard time. I know how it feels to make a dumb mistake and have people yelling at you for it to no end, and it sucks. This is so far from the worst thing to happen to me this month that it's kind of hilarious. So - sorry for making a bad situation worse." He pauses. "Don't do it again, though. In case you're not quite traumatized enough to get that."
"Good then!" says Harry. "So. I'd better head back to the office, I think it's time for them to summon the return letter from Murphy. Sorry again, make fewer bad decisions, friendly neighborhood warden is going away now."
He sidles off. Awkwardly. Is this man ever not awkward. Sources point to no.
He sidles off. Awkwardly. Is this man ever not awkward. Sources point to no.
Korulen waves, also awkwardly, and closes the door.
The lift is obedient to his instructions. Kanaat's in the office; Keo's off somewhere else.
The lift is obedient to his instructions. Kanaat's in the office; Keo's off somewhere else.
"Hey, uh, Kanaat? Has it been an- angler? Yet?"
He's going to have to learn to actually convert these units at some point, probably. That point is not right now. In fact, it's as far in the future as he can reasonably put it. Harry Dresden is not one to change his measurement systems; he never went metric, and he's not going Elcenian without a fight.
He's going to have to learn to actually convert these units at some point, probably. That point is not right now. In fact, it's as far in the future as he can reasonably put it. Harry Dresden is not one to change his measurement systems; he never went metric, and he's not going Elcenian without a fight.
Harry looks to be doing some mental math. "...Maybe? You could, uh, scry her? That's your divination thing? She'd be expecting something like that, and you could see if she's ready."
"It would take several degrees to draw the circle for scrying," Kanaat says. "I can do it if it's necessary, but if it would only be necessary in order to figure out whether an hour has passed it seems redundant."
"Damn. Well, I guess we could summon it now? She's probably done anyway, the full hour was just for insurance."
Kanaat goes over to a circle he drew earlier and casts a spell and receives a letter, which he hands to Harry.
Harry opens it and winces. The writing on it is large and, to whatever degree handwriting can be said to have emotions, it looks pissed. "This is going to be a happy reunion, I just know it."
He reads through. Murphy's handwriting shrinks down a bit past the first few lines as she realizes that figuring out logistics is more important than telling Harry exactly what she's going to do with his spleen. She says that he took a woefully inadequate supply of things with whatever the hell he took them with, magic before basic life grounding as always, and she's packing him a travel bag for when they summon her. She tells him she'll tell most people whatever he wants her to, but she's telling some people the whole truth and nothing but regardless, and he can blow it out various orifices if he objects. She tells him to summon her after half an hour from the hour she was already given. The remainder of the letter is occupied by more invective, apparently added to periodically whenever she thought up something else. She appears to have been interrupted in the middle of the phrase "bony ass".
There's a cheap wristwatch taped to the paper, as she appears to have realized that he didn't take a watch and that he's terrible at keeping track of time. She knows him pretty well. The watch is Hello Kitty themed, because she is not afraid to use her knowledge of him for evil.
Harry sets down the letter and puts on the watch. "Huh. That went better than I expected."
He reads through. Murphy's handwriting shrinks down a bit past the first few lines as she realizes that figuring out logistics is more important than telling Harry exactly what she's going to do with his spleen. She says that he took a woefully inadequate supply of things with whatever the hell he took them with, magic before basic life grounding as always, and she's packing him a travel bag for when they summon her. She tells him she'll tell most people whatever he wants her to, but she's telling some people the whole truth and nothing but regardless, and he can blow it out various orifices if he objects. She tells him to summon her after half an hour from the hour she was already given. The remainder of the letter is occupied by more invective, apparently added to periodically whenever she thought up something else. She appears to have been interrupted in the middle of the phrase "bony ass".
There's a cheap wristwatch taped to the paper, as she appears to have realized that he didn't take a watch and that he's terrible at keeping track of time. She knows him pretty well. The watch is Hello Kitty themed, because she is not afraid to use her knowledge of him for evil.
Harry sets down the letter and puts on the watch. "Huh. That went better than I expected."
"We wait... almost another hour. Apparently that was less than an hour, what we just did. And she's going to show up and yell at me and give me all the things I forgot to get out of my apartment because I'm an idiot. Standard fare, really."
"We could just summon whatever the things are if you'd prefer not to be shouted at," Kanaat says mildly.
"Well, I do also want to talk to her. And she's better at remembering things than I am, I'd miss something. Plus, the yelling is an important part of our relationship, I'd better stock up now so I don't feel deprived now that I don't see her around every day."
"As you like. I'll get started on the circle." He picks up his chalk and starts drawing on the floor again.
Harry seems somewhat at a loss for what to do! He elects to amuse himself by looking at books in weird alien languages. Alien languages, wooooo.
Well, the translation spell lets him read their titles, although some of them disconcertingly trail their text past the edge of their spines as part of being translated.
Even better! Weird alien books in perfectly normal English, wooo. He picks one that seems vaguely interesting (it's historical, record of a war of some kind) and sits to read it. Not his favorite way to eat time, but he'll make do.
This book is about the period of time in which some country called Ertydo conquered a lot of stuff and some of the stuff unconquered itself violently. The wars seem to involve a lot of magic.
Ooh, magic wars. It's kind of fun reading about a magic war that isn't his fault! He feels a bit sorry for the conquered folks, but that's how it goes, and it looks like they got their own back anyway. Good on them, probably.
The book is easily long enough to occupy the entire time Kanaat spends drawing the circle. And the rest of the half hour.
He checks the terrible watch pretty frequently. At the set time, he stands.
"Hey, Kanaat, the time of reckoning approaches. We can summon Karrin for yelling purposes now."
"Hey, Kanaat, the time of reckoning approaches. We can summon Karrin for yelling purposes now."
"If you'll just supply the focus," says Kanaat, gesturing at one of the loop things where Harry has been putting his hand.
"Sure thing." He puts his hand in and does the focusy thing. Paging Karrin Murphy, tiny angry policewoman extraordinaire.
Murphy appears in a sitting position with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, apparently having been petting an unreasonably large cat. She falls unceremoniously on her rear, swears loudly, and gets up. She looks around, notes the weird alien wizard-man and the weird non-alien wizard-man, and tests to see if she's confined in this circle thing. Naturally, she is.
"Harry. Good to see you. Mind letting me out of the force field?" she asks in a slightly strained tone of voice.
"Promise you won't throw me out a window?" he responds.
"I promise, I promise."
Harry looks to Kanaat. "She's not much threat to magic people without tools that she doesn't have on her right now, and she almost certainly won't hurt anyone. Besides my feelings. Can you let her out of the circle?"
"Harry. Good to see you. Mind letting me out of the force field?" she asks in a slightly strained tone of voice.
"Promise you won't throw me out a window?" he responds.
"I promise, I promise."
Harry looks to Kanaat. "She's not much threat to magic people without tools that she doesn't have on her right now, and she almost certainly won't hurt anyone. Besides my feelings. Can you let her out of the circle?"