Soph and Bella have a room upstairs. It has bunk beds - blue sheets on the bottom, red plaid on the top - and bookshelves full of a four-to-one ratio of regular books and spiral notebooks, tidily organized; the rest of the room is less tidy and Soph nudges a sweatshirt aside with her foot as she shows Delilah in. "Sorry about the everything, wasn't expecting people over."
"What's the, like - mean and standard deviation on how long this takes people?" asks Bella.
"Based on a highly limited sample, mean is approximately 7 months, with a standard deviation of, uh, almost two years? Median and mode are both on the first day of trying."
"So basically if I don't get it today I'm looking at a really long haul but still may get it eventually. Mmkay."
"Well, it took me over five years, so. Everyone else in the sample had it within three weeks."
Bella glances up. "Do you know what kept you?" she asks, tentatively, not sure if this is a sore spot or a point of etiquette or what.
"Special snowflake magical lightning rod," he says, with a crooked little smile. "I'm what's known as a ground. I basically don't store magic myself, but I can channel it one way or the other. You can't teach a kid how to access his internal store of magic if he doesn't have one."
"Okay. And mine is basically a waterfall hat so that... might not be a problem I have to look forward to? What are the effects of having waterfall-hat-style magic?"
No results.
"No worries," Delilah says. "I just thought we shouldn't show off if Bella's having trouble."
"Yeah. Like, she doesn't have massive jealousy issues, but yeah." She looks at her hand; at some point the cloud has dissipated. "Should I make another one? Are little puffs of magic useful like that or is the little-puffs step just an easy first exercise?"
"Rather than trying to do something with it, see if it feels like there's something it wants to do."
"Seems to be very determined to stay exactly where it is," she mutters. "...The waterfallishness cuts off hereabouts." She taps the side of her neck. "It doesn't keep going after that. So I guess it wants to form a curtain around my head?"
"Yeah, pretty much just an easy exercise. They don't really do anything. You can totally make another if you want, though."
"It's cute! I wonder if it puts out enough light to be handy if I get up for some reason in the middle of the night." She replaces the cloud, this time without the expedient of mime, and watches sparks of lighting set parts of it brightly aglow.
"Mine works pretty well in a pinch," Delilah says, and calls it up. It glows a sullen red in her palm, coiling against itself like a lava flow, the shifting edges revealing crackling heat underneath.
"Ooh, that's pretty," admires Soph. "Okay. So I have a nifty little lantern. What else?"
"Are we talking more like, 'heal papercuts', or like 'conjure cupcakes', or like 'teleport to school'?"