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#Post#: 159--------------------------------------------------
Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Emmanuel Date: August 1, 2017, 8:23 am
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"nnh nnh nn-nnh nnn-nn-nnn-nnnh I am a grocery bag..." his voice
murmured and hummed under his breath as he settled down on his
backside in one of the many aisles of the library. There were
books of every stripe and scope, but the young human had pulled
down a great tome that evidently described dance customs in
fallen Atlantis. The hood on a pale blue tri-blend hoodie was
pulled up over his blond hair and he was holding what looked
like a wand. Really, it was just a rod about a foot long. The
time-keeper for a formal dance floor, that the dancemaster would
tap or otherwise rap on something to set the tempo if dancers
started to fall out of sequence.
His cup of tea, big old chipped mug of stuff, sat empty and with
the swirled traces of leaves in the bottom. He glanced down at
it with a critical blue eye and laughed, turning it around and
pushing it away. Divination was such unreliable work, but
something about his leaves today just screamed booo-riiiing and
he thought to push it away, as if he could spare fate by not
looking at it.
His rod tapped gently in time on his knee while he turned a
great dusty page. "These are... impossible." he frowned at the
dance requirements and layouts. "...it was underwater." he
surmised a bit more loudly than he'd expected. The woes of a
person talking around headphones.
#Post#: 160--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Nera Quinn Date: August 1, 2017, 8:46 am
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From another stack, around a corner, came the redhead, eyebrow
deep in her own dusty tome about medieval occult practices in
blood magick. Hard rock loud enough to be heard even without
Nera removing her head phones caused her rhythmic step, the bass
beat a match for the sway of her hips and the nod of her head.
His words caused her to look up from the book, those steel blue
eyes looking him, then his book over. Curiosity craned that head
just slightly as she tried to make sense of what she saw. "The
fuck... That's not even...were they fish, or something?" Her
words, also too loud, echoed incredulous skepticism. Head
tilting the other way, she sought to engage the holder of the
book and look him in the eye. "What in all of Hades' hells did
you find?"
#Post#: 161--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Emmanuel Date: August 1, 2017, 8:53 am
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There was a blink and a moment of parsing in the young man's
day. Someone was speaking to him and it wasn't the book. Talking
books bothered him forever in libraries and the instinct to find
the offending work was soon waylaid when he laid eyes on the
hard rock disciple and offered a knee-jerk smile. With a tip of
his head, JB looked at the cover of the book and then let it
fall open once more in his lap. "They were kinda fish, but kinda
not fish. Just people who grew differently. I'm not sure they
breathed water or anything like that, but they seemed to like
ballroom dance in three dimensions." he answered with what he'd
read from the book. Gesturing with his rod, he made as if to
stir the air over his head.
"I found a book on dancing, for a place that I'll probably never
see. I had to take a look, at the illustrations at least." The
rod, mundane and soft pine, he aimed at her with a few fingers
extended to show he didn't have a grip on it or a spell close to
hand. "And I think that of all in Hades' hells? I found you. My
name is Emmanuel, and I hope you'll tell me what's in your book.
It looks... ominous. Humor a boy and I'll repay you?"
#Post#: 163--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Nera Quinn Date: August 1, 2017, 9:34 am
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Nera wasn't the knee jerk smile type, so instead, she studied
him for a moment. One corner of her full mouth quirked, and she
hung the headphones around her neck with a tug and twist. "Nera.
And you sure you want what's in my book? It's a bit different
than dancing practices of a lost people. Though if that was what
they found joy in, I'm starting to understand why they eschewed
the rest of the world. Find some inner peace, don't let other
assholes ruin it." A gloved hand reached out to offer help up.
[b]"Mine is dark, because the time WAS dark. They had some weird
and creepy thoughts on magick workings. Like the idea that pain
helps it. A lot. Especially, ta-da, blood magicks. Infusing the
blood with deeper and more complex emotion yielded better
results. Blood is the life, and all that Renfield babble."[/b]
Her hand waved the train of thought by.
"What's so special about finding a Goth chick, eyebrow deep in
weird occult practices and flapping her gums? That's every day
with me. Whatcha lookin' for, Emmanuel? I'll humor you until you
bore me, piss me off or make me too edgy. Deal is, I ask any
questions, you answer honestly. My payment, for now. More will
be negotiated on, depending on what you ask of me." Her smile
turned playful and teasing for a moment before she turned to
saunter toward a quiet corner made for talking.
#Post#: 165--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Emmanuel Date: August 1, 2017, 10:27 am
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"Nera. Nice to meet you. And no, on second thought? I'm sure I
don't want what's in your book. Times were dark and the people
who've got lessons to learn from dark times? I hope they learn
'em painlessly. But I hope I never do." he affirmed and reached
to accept her gloved hand to get hauled neatly to his feet. The
book he held, he replaced in the librarian-harming space between
Move Like You Mean It and Haka of the Magickal World and then
moved to pursue his new acquaintance.
"Everything's special about finding a Goth chick deep in the
craft and wanting to talk about it. Now, one thing:" he began,
holding a hand up in hopes of slowing the train even as he sank
down onto his folded legs on the floor. Chairs were everywhere.
Some people were just born to be floor sitters. "I don't promise
to entertain you. Or to make you happy. Promises are really,
really important and I mean to keep the ones I make. That said?
I promise I'll answer questions honestly. I would want the same
from someone I just met, if I were you."
The rod, he balanced in his hands for a breath before setting it
with its colleagues on the newspaper reading rack. The jeans,
the hoodie, the satchel at his side? Emmanuel was born to be
overlooked. His eyes, however, fell to her gloves. "How do you
infuse blood with emotion? I don't understand the concept. Have
you ever done it?"
#Post#: 166--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Nera Quinn Date: August 1, 2017, 4:42 pm
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Nera threw herself into a chair, then coiled her legs quickly
onto the cushion. "Sugar, I'm a street kid. I don't expect
nothing beyond what I ask for. Which, in this case, is honesty.
The payment for our talk, yeah? I'll give it back, unless you're
one who views omission as lying. Then? Well, I guarantee
nothing. Anything else, and we negotiate." Her shoulder lifted,
as it was her only offer, her smile full of mischief and
curiosity both.
"So, you're a child of the craft? Solitary or coven? What forms
do you pursue?" And because their deal was struck, she answered
his question. "Yes, I have. Not to the level covered in that
book, but I've done so with my own blood. Think of it in terms
of drawing blood and fueling your magick while a certain emotion
is stirred high. Sometimes, it's pain or fury. Sometimes, it’s
lust or a mother's love. I’ve used fury and lust. Match the
emotion to the work. You’ve never thought about or heard of sex
magick? Some powerful work there.”
The mage plucked at the fingers of the glove on her left hand,
loosening and then hooking her thumb into the top of the leather
and sliding it downward. Runic markings were scarified into her
flesh, seemingly by a very sharp and thin blade or a needle.
They were small, a couple dozen scattered the pale flesh from
her hands to her elbows. Most were for focus, or amplification.
An interesting set decorated her knuckles and seemed to be
specifically for the chaining of something. The bondage of a
thing, as it were. Warding runes were obvious to the warding
Mage. “All of these have served the purpose of making my magic
stronger through their pain. Some are healers in the craft. Some
are givers and herbalists and peacemakers. I’m...not.”
#Post#: 168--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Emmanuel Date: August 2, 2017, 7:33 am
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"Solitary, for the most part. My parents offered me a place in
theirs, but they were so woven together and tight that I didn't
feel like I fit very well. Father Wilburforce wasn't very happy
about the decision, mind you. I convinced them to teach me the
lesser wardings and banishments, though." he advised with a
smile. The glove she drew off, he shifted closer and regarded.
First the glove, then the scarred and marked runes on her arm.
He felt the innate refusal of the wards on her knuckles, the
sense of I'm trespassing... that they gave an onlooker. Without
touching her, seemingly aware of the very protective nature of
her array of once-wounds, he gestured with a fingertip that she
should turn her hands over to show him the palms.
"I've thought about sex magick, but it isn't very compatible
with what I know. Shame, right? Every machine needs its fuel,
though. You into some extra curriculars? I'm pretty good with a
party." he answered her question and came up to his knees to
look at her palm. He bent her ring finger to her thumb with a
gentle touch, as if to see the way it affected her lines.
"Some are healers in the craft. Givers, herbalists, peacemakers.
Some are warriors and gods of destruction, meant to split the
world in half and watch new life come from the mending.
Destinies suck, if you ask me. Mother Eliza used to tell me that
a person's will to advance or progress runs downhill like water.
People end up where they end up, and cut paths behind them. Did
you cut a path behind you, or did you follow someone to where
you are?" From his bag, the young man came up with a pair of
small apples. One, he offered to her. The other, he split in his
hands and left half on one of the bookshelves.
"For the librarian..." he whispered.
#Post#: 170--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Nera Quinn Date: August 2, 2017, 9:58 am
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She offered her hand for studying, looking at her own palm
momentarily and wondering what he saw. The gaze of those blue
eyes shifted to look the other mage in the face, a slow smile
curving her lips. “Was that an invitation I heard? I get up to
extracurricular activity. You lookin’ to learn a thing or two?
Or show me a thing or two?” Her curiosity gleamed bright in that
look, but as the lightest touch brushed her fingers, her hand
jerked. It took focus not to curl her fingers into a protective
fist.
The lines of her palm were carved deep. The spidering of little
lines of anxiety were nowhere to be found, and her lifeline was
long, though the beginnings of it saw an early dual line that
came together as one. Her head line was long and ended very
neatly between the finger of Jupiter and Saturn. The pads of her
palm were well mounded and plush. Without looking Emmanuel in
the eye, she answered his question. “I cut a path behind me. I
couldn't do anything else. I’ve never really found someone like
me.” Once more her shoulder lifted in it’s shrug, and her head
gave a jerk. “I’m one of a kind, sugar. And don't you forget
it.”
Nera traded the whole apple for the half of one on the shelf. It
seemed more fitting that way. “Why does sex magick strike you as
incompatible with what you know?” Asked the young woman before
crunching into the apple not so delicately. She ate with the
hand that was ungloved.
#Post#: 177--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Emmanuel Date: August 3, 2017, 8:23 am
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A whole fruit for a half. It had a certain poetry, one that he
had to appreciate. Leave the best for a teacher, take the equal
of your peer. Or would-be peer, if JB had half the mystical
sense that Nera displayed. His touch drew a sharp slice across
her palm, without scratching with his nails or anything else. A
figurative bisection of her palm in his mind. "Something is
looking after you. Early blessing? Something from a parent or a
tutor? I felt something stop me when I did that. Like bumping
over a piece of glass." he described before releasing his grasp
on her and folding his legs more securely beneath him.
"One of a kind. Cutting the path. What is it about the students
here that makes them inclined toward being so damned lonely?
Wisdom and ambition must drive a lot harder than playground
games. Gear shift." he said without much in the way of
explanation. He figured he wouldn't need it. "I'd be all about
some extracurricular, but I don't know anyone around here on the
level. My garden is fit for parties, if you get my meaning."
Another beat, and he rubbed his face with a hand. "Sex magic
tends to need some sex around. Or at least the drive and low
kinda heavy feeling that comes with it. Incompatible, because I
really learned these things as children's rhymes and dances.
They're the vocabulary of my young life and I've never had the
chance to explore it more freely. My parents did, though. Lots
of socks on knobs for those four. So you finished with your
book? My stuff is unpacked, I'm all dressed up and I have
nowhere to go. Where's better tea around here?"
#Post#: 180--------------------------------------------------
Re: Dancing With Myself - [Open]
By: Nera Quinn Date: August 3, 2017, 1:57 pm
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Nera shook her head at his question over a “blessing”? “No,
sugar. That’s a barrier to keep things in, rather than to keep
you out.” Whatever the power was within those runes, it flared
at the touch of his finger across her palm and his grasp over
her hand. Her hand closed into a small fist and she cradled it
as he released her, though not like it hurt. More from automatic
gesture, than anything thoughtful. She lifted her shoulder in a
shrug.
“I keep my distance out of caution, darlin’. Had the shit kicked
out of me a time or two for being capable of what I am. And I
don't miss contact after awhile, if I stay away. It makes sense
to me. I don't get too used to anyone. Shit happens, people
leave. You miss ‘em for a little while, and then you move on.
Real easy recipe for being untouched by the storm.” The young
woman leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees, chin
cradled in her gloved hand. The game change bothered her not a
bit.
“I’ve got a shared house. My roommate seems like she’s pretty
cool. I’ll see if she’s down and if she knows anyone else. Then?
We’ll go have a damn tea party in your garden.” A wide and
toothy grin curved her mouth, a grin worthy of a certain feline.
“I call the Cheshire Cat for this tea party. And as for tea? I
know of a place with tea. Never been, but I’m good with trying
something new. Don't know much on teas and herbs. I take what
I’m given, and don't ask questions. My chemists have been pretty
strict on that aspect.” With a sort of pent up and boundless
energy, Nera uncurled herself from the chair and bounced up,
happy to be moving. The book gets put back in the stacks,
strangely where it is meant to go. A clove cigarette is pulled
from behind her ear and put into her mouth, where it dangled as
she looked back after a handful of steps, eyebrow raised until
he came alongside her. “Were your parents in a poly quad, or
just close couple friends? Poly just isn't that weird in magick,
have you noticed?”
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