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In which Jaeha meets a ghost boy
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"Will do."

He does.

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Jeremy floats behind.  "And, uh, there's some string in this drawer; we'll need that.  It's in the back."

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String in the drawer! He's so curious.

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"Okay, so," he explains once Jake's rummaged enough in the odds-and-ends drawer to find the ball of twine among the buttons and nails and pliers and scissors, "basically the process here is, you're going to draw a shape on the floor that's pretty much two connected circles—I'll explain in more detail later—and then we'll both stand in it, and then you'll fill up the glass with water, speak a particular poem, and then drop the ice cube in.  Then, uh, you go outside and take the ice cube out and pour the water over it.  And this like, symbolizes giving me some of your energy."

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"...alright. That's very aesthetic."

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"It kind of is," he grants.  "I just wish the text of the poem had more to do with what's actually happening.  With some of them it kind of seems like whatever process created these just, wanted something that scanned and rhymed and—doesn't have anything in common with the actual result.  Like you're pointing to a particular effect, invoking it, and the actual meaning of the words barely seems to matter."

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"What's the poem like? Or should it wait until it's time to do the spell?"

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"I can either say it to you and have you repeat it line-by-line in the circles, or I can tell you now and you can have it written down in front of you.  Whichever you think will make you more able to say it perfectly accurately."

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"Probably the first thing."

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"Okay.  You do have to say it perfectly.  If you mess up you can say 'pfeh' and start the line over, but—it would be really bad if you stopped in the middle, or something."

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"...pfeh. That's so cute. I can do it."

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"—Okay, so, with the shape, you're going to use the string as a compass, but we can just kind of weigh it down with whatever at the centerpoint, because we're not actually completing either of the circles and it doesn't matter if they spiral a bit.  You're gonna start with the big one, which should be plenty wide enough for you to stand in and move your arms around and stuff because you need to pour the water.  And then there'll be the littler one, over here, with its centerpoint outside the big one but with the edge overlapping.  Except that the lines are just going to meet at some corners instead of actually crossing—or, I mean they can cross at first but then you'll erase the inside parts."  (The living room floor is bare wood without any obvious damage, and looks like it'll accept chalking of this description fine.)

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Alright, he can do that, sounds simple enough.

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Jeremy floats around horizontally with his face a foot away from the ground to inspect Jake's work.  "...You did a thorough job erasing.  I don't think I have any criticisms here."

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"Thank you, sir."

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Jeremy just kind of sputters.  "I—uh—y.  Uh."

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He grins.

"So, what next?"

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"...I guess we could stand inside and start doing the steps.  Are you really sure you don't want the poem first; it's going to sound a little weird and it's really really important that you read it all the way through in spite of that."

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"Sure, I can have it first, I am just not sure how well I will be able to do the rhythm of words in English if I have to read it out rather than repeat after you."

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"We can do both.

"Flowing water, drawn from what's near
Exhibit that shine of my soul and my living
Glinting glasswork, made for my cheer
Display the éclat of my body's sweet giving
Sparkling ice, as solid as death
I welcome you in; focus gleam into glare
Enter, O spirit, condensed as from air
I inhale you and share with you synchronized breath."

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"Okay it's, uh. Kinda hot."

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"...What.  —Okay I can kind of see it actually."

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"I suppose it's good quid pro quo, you introducing me to sexy poetry after I introduced you to sexy music."

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"I don't know that I'll be able to keep it up to match what else you've introduced me to.  —Do you have any questions; does that sound readable and fine and everything?"

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