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Adarin's magic has some advantages over witchcraft, but it is imperfect. Still, over time, mana recovers, and in this time Metis's hospitality does not run out.
They watch Harry Potter, Adarin is introduced to Wikipedia, he makes the second thingamajig. Isabella interrogates her alethiometer.
It's kind of cryptic about whether she has to fear being a "crazy witch". But she's tentatively optimistic and still brainstorming new ways to format the question. (She complains about the alethiometer being bad at numbers and at "yes" and "no".)
It can, however, identify landmarks by referring to whatever they're named after. It's not so hard to interpret on the subject of where she may find a place to claim. She moves into it, Adarin in tow, Metis retained as a friendly advisor but apprenticeship terminated. The place has plumbing and a generator already; she gets satellite Internet for an entire half-day of spellcasting and collects a hand-me-down laptop from a mortal friend of her mother's. She sets up arrangements for building a nice big wall along the edge of a clearing on her appropriated property. It's a very busy couple of weeks.
Eventually she tries asking the alethiometer a fifteenth way whether she's prone to crazy witchitude. Whether she'd ever hurt someone she loved if they rejected her, or even threaten it.
The alethiometer says: love violence counter-to querent nature.
She's starting to get the hang of interpreting it, even if most of the practice has involved getting the addresses (via intersection and cardinal direction because it can't give her anything so useful as house number or latitude) and this is - this is pretty damn good.
This is good enough.
Of course, that's not all the answer she needs, is it?
Path goes looking for Vernaia.
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dark_light
"I - I didn't think it worked like this," says Enathira, squirming, "maybe it still works like I thought and just - takes a while, if I let you go now he'll kill me probably -"
prodigal_miser
Vern can't think of an argument to counter that. Maybe if she didn't have someone touching her she'd say that Adarin hasn't killed anyone in his life. But she does have someone touching her, so she can't think of what to say other than new and interesting ways to beg for her to stop.
It's probably not any consolation that after this has been going on for about half an hour, Enathira starts quietly crying.
prodigal_miser
None at all. Vern has been crying for far longer, and Adarin doesn't seem capable of doing anything other than shivering and whimpering for release anymore.
This might go on for a while.
Isabella was going to go out flying for rather a long time.
Isabella was going to go out flying for rather a long time.
prodigal_miser
Adarin would have thought that there would be some kind of - of way to get used to this. Some way of coping, some way of doing anything other than being a wreck on the ground and pointlessly begging for this to stop.
But there isn't. It's fresh, every time, in his skull and in his soul. There is no escape from it, no quiet place to think. No way to regroup, or make a plan, or even just block it out and get over it.
He and his daemon can only keep begging, and suffering. That's all.
But there isn't. It's fresh, every time, in his skull and in his soul. There is no escape from it, no quiet place to think. No way to regroup, or make a plan, or even just block it out and get over it.
He and his daemon can only keep begging, and suffering. That's all.
"I'm sorry," says Enathira at the one-hour mark.
prodigal_miser
"Then stop," weeps Vern. "Stop, stop-"
It devolves into the usual stuff, from there.
It devolves into the usual stuff, from there.
"I can't, I can't."
dark_light
Probably nobody in the room is in a position to notice the sound of Isabella landing.
They might hear the magic doorbell, though.
Enathira does, and squeezes Vern tighter, startled.
They might hear the magic doorbell, though.
Enathira does, and squeezes Vern tighter, startled.
prodigal_miser
Adarin, for one, is not in a position to react to any sounds at all. Vern isn't, either, for that matter, but when she's squeezed she lets out another wail, followed by, "Letgoletgoletgo..."
It's possible that it could be heard, from outside.
It's possible that it could be heard, from outside.
dark_light
Path peers in the window, and immediately shouts to his witch.
She tries the door, but it doesn't work.
So she goes around to the window, and in fifteen seconds has a verse composed:
"Shatter quick the window glass,
So that through it I can pass -"
And she lays her hand on the window and it comes apart under her palm, and she has her bow strung and an arrow nocked moments later.
"Drop the bird by the count of three or get an arrow in your brain. One. Two."
Enathira flings Vernaia away from her and curls up in a ball, hands cupped over the back of her head, on the couch.
She tries the door, but it doesn't work.
So she goes around to the window, and in fifteen seconds has a verse composed:
"Shatter quick the window glass,
So that through it I can pass -"
And she lays her hand on the window and it comes apart under her palm, and she has her bow strung and an arrow nocked moments later.
"Drop the bird by the count of three or get an arrow in your brain. One. Two."
Enathira flings Vernaia away from her and curls up in a ball, hands cupped over the back of her head, on the couch.
prodigal_miser
Vernaia is flung - she hits the ground in a whimpering heap, sobbing and shivering. She lies there for a little while, before she manages to get up and start making her way to her mortal.
Adarin's reaction is a bit more immediate. He gasps in a breath that half-sounds like a whimper, and murmurs quietly, "Vern..."
There is no walking, in this condition. Not right now, not while his daemon's over there and she's just been held for what feels like an eternity. So, he crawls, and the soonest he possibly can - Vernaia is in his arms. She's sobbing, but Adarin can't seem to manage it, though he certainly looks like he wants to.
Adarin's reaction is a bit more immediate. He gasps in a breath that half-sounds like a whimper, and murmurs quietly, "Vern..."
There is no walking, in this condition. Not right now, not while his daemon's over there and she's just been held for what feels like an eternity. So, he crawls, and the soonest he possibly can - Vernaia is in his arms. She's sobbing, but Adarin can't seem to manage it, though he certainly looks like he wants to.
dark_light
Path... stays out of the house, for good reason. He can't exactly snuggle Vern while Adarin is doing it.
Isabella climbs awkwardly through the window and retrains her bow on Enathira. Just in case.
Isabella climbs awkwardly through the window and retrains her bow on Enathira. Just in case.
prodigal_miser
He can think - at long last, Adarin can think of more than just how he's in agony.
The first emotion to come back to his pain-numbed mind is rage.
"What... What exactly did you think - what did you think you were doing?" he hisses, curled around his daemon and focusing on Enathira.
The first emotion to come back to his pain-numbed mind is rage.
"What... What exactly did you think - what did you think you were doing?" he hisses, curled around his daemon and focusing on Enathira.
dark_light
Enathira just curls up tighter and whimpers.
"Do you want me to shoot her?" Isabella asks him.
"Do you want me to shoot her?" Isabella asks him.
prodigal_miser
"That - that won't be required, Isabella," he says, darkly. Carefully, still holding Vernaia with a vice-grip, he makes it to his feet.
"What," he growls to Enathira. "Are you feeling bad feelings about torturing me and my daemon? Or is is that Isabella's got an arrow trained on you and will make you resemble a pincushion if you so much as breathe incorrectly?"
He steps a bit closer. "Because I assure you, if it's the second, she is not who you have to worry about."
"What," he growls to Enathira. "Are you feeling bad feelings about torturing me and my daemon? Or is is that Isabella's got an arrow trained on you and will make you resemble a pincushion if you so much as breathe incorrectly?"
He steps a bit closer. "Because I assure you, if it's the second, she is not who you have to worry about."
Enathira makes a frightened squeaking noise and stays curled up right where she is.
prodigal_miser
"I don't even know what you were expecting!" says Adarin with a tiny hint of deranged laughter. "What, did drugs seem like a bad idea so something that is worse than rape seemed like it should be the best possible option?"
Another step closer.
Another step closer.
dark_light
"She - she said," murmurs Enathira, almost too softly to be heard.
"Oh, fuck, is this - I said dearest intimacy, didn't I, and I wasn't clear and she got the causality backwards -" says Isabella.
"Oh, fuck, is this - I said dearest intimacy, didn't I, and I wasn't clear and she got the causality backwards -" says Isabella.
prodigal_miser
"- Isabella," he interrupts, very quietly. "My dear, you are not at fault, here."
He keeps walking towards Enathira - he's almost in front of her, now. "So, okay, your idiotic head decided to jump to a conclusion," says Adarin, in the most dangerously quiet tone. "And you decide that touching my daemon means I'd... What? Marry you? Become your sex slave? Love you?"
He laughs. It is not a nice laugh.
"Fuck, and you think that just because you thought it wasn't actually the worst kind of torture that it was suddenly okay?!"
He keeps walking towards Enathira - he's almost in front of her, now. "So, okay, your idiotic head decided to jump to a conclusion," says Adarin, in the most dangerously quiet tone. "And you decide that touching my daemon means I'd... What? Marry you? Become your sex slave? Love you?"
He laughs. It is not a nice laugh.
"Fuck, and you think that just because you thought it wasn't actually the worst kind of torture that it was suddenly okay?!"
dark_light
Enathira is back to not having anything to say.
Isabella puts her arrow back in her quiver, though she doesn't unstring her bow.
Isabella puts her arrow back in her quiver, though she doesn't unstring her bow.
prodigal_miser
"So tell me," says Adarin, plopping down on the couch next to her and looking at her like she's some kind of disgusting bit of scum on his boot. "What do you do when a person says stop?"
She edges away from him. "I didn't want to anymore after - thought it might still - I thought you'd hurt me was I right -"