[M O R D R E D] (
eternalmagic) wrote in
riverviewlogs2017-09-11 05:38 pm
[open] who will go down to those shady groves
who: Anyone
what: General CR building
when: September, post-Dragosta
where: Miscellaneous
warnings:idk are the Taaco twins gonna be there
.I. Waterbending
[Barring a few unfortunate incidents (no offense meant), he was able to avoid most of the chaos that took over the city during the Dragosta festival. Not that he has anything against festivals. He participates in plenty back home, albeit usually for ritualistic reasons. This one just happened to outpace his willingness to assimilate -- primary reason being that if his soulmate is here, he'd rather not know about it.
In any case, he only retreats for as long as it takes all the fuss to die down (especially for those damn fairy lights to dissipate), and then it's back to regular scheduled programming of trying to get Riverview's damn elements to let him play.
The weather's still nice. And water tends to be the most reasonable element to negotiate with. So he's swimming. If that seems weird, then joke's on you, because it's starting to work.]
.II. All-nighters
[Aside from classes, errands and the odd venture into the city, Mordred can typically be found in just one place.
Gramarye has swallowed him. He had high hopes for the resources available within the magical research facility, and so far he hasn't been disappointed. The opportunity to venture beyond the wall for a more thorough pass has yet to present itself, and Mordred isn't so dismissive of Bryn as his guide that he's prepared to risk her extreme displeasure by simply strolling out there himself. What that means is, he has to rely almost solely on Gramarye for information, and he has thoroughly devoted himself to the task of absorbing it.
It's been a few days. And nights. Requiring significantly less sleep means that a) he gets more accomplished, and b) his roommate Draco basically has an entire apartment to himself, minus one corner cloaked in darkness and stars.
This evening (morning? afternoon?) Mordred is three stories up in the library, balancing on a ladder as he selects the books he wants to work through next. Every once in a while, he'll toss a book sideways, whereupon it spirals down and settles delicately on top of a stack accumulating at one corner of a large table below. There are a few plants gathered on the other end of the table, like specimens, preserved in bubbles of what looks like shimmering glass.]
.III. Cocktails
[Through the graciousness of Millennial Loki, Mordred has acquired VIP access at the club Trixie.
However, he hasn't actually used it yet.
He's been sort of systematically trying out all of the places in Riverview that serve alcohol, not because he is often in the mood for a drink, but should the mood strike, ostensibly it's best to know exactly where to go. Trixie has turned out to be one of those places, not just because he gets along with the owner, but because the bartender likes to experiment and Mordred is not opposed to judging the results.
He's there tonight, leaning on the bar, distractedly nursing something that is three different neon colors and has a name he didn't bother to hear before he started drinking it.]
what: General CR building
when: September, post-Dragosta
where: Miscellaneous
warnings:
.I. Waterbending
[Barring a few unfortunate incidents (no offense meant), he was able to avoid most of the chaos that took over the city during the Dragosta festival. Not that he has anything against festivals. He participates in plenty back home, albeit usually for ritualistic reasons. This one just happened to outpace his willingness to assimilate -- primary reason being that if his soulmate is here, he'd rather not know about it.
In any case, he only retreats for as long as it takes all the fuss to die down (especially for those damn fairy lights to dissipate), and then it's back to regular scheduled programming of trying to get Riverview's damn elements to let him play.
The weather's still nice. And water tends to be the most reasonable element to negotiate with. So he's swimming. If that seems weird, then joke's on you, because it's starting to work.]
.II. All-nighters
[Aside from classes, errands and the odd venture into the city, Mordred can typically be found in just one place.
Gramarye has swallowed him. He had high hopes for the resources available within the magical research facility, and so far he hasn't been disappointed. The opportunity to venture beyond the wall for a more thorough pass has yet to present itself, and Mordred isn't so dismissive of Bryn as his guide that he's prepared to risk her extreme displeasure by simply strolling out there himself. What that means is, he has to rely almost solely on Gramarye for information, and he has thoroughly devoted himself to the task of absorbing it.
It's been a few days. And nights. Requiring significantly less sleep means that a) he gets more accomplished, and b) his roommate Draco basically has an entire apartment to himself, minus one corner cloaked in darkness and stars.
This evening (morning? afternoon?) Mordred is three stories up in the library, balancing on a ladder as he selects the books he wants to work through next. Every once in a while, he'll toss a book sideways, whereupon it spirals down and settles delicately on top of a stack accumulating at one corner of a large table below. There are a few plants gathered on the other end of the table, like specimens, preserved in bubbles of what looks like shimmering glass.]
.III. Cocktails
[Through the graciousness of Millennial Loki, Mordred has acquired VIP access at the club Trixie.
However, he hasn't actually used it yet.
He's been sort of systematically trying out all of the places in Riverview that serve alcohol, not because he is often in the mood for a drink, but should the mood strike, ostensibly it's best to know exactly where to go. Trixie has turned out to be one of those places, not just because he gets along with the owner, but because the bartender likes to experiment and Mordred is not opposed to judging the results.
He's there tonight, leaning on the bar, distractedly nursing something that is three different neon colors and has a name he didn't bother to hear before he started drinking it.]

no subject
Anything you can tell me, I'd be grateful to learn.
[It's as simple as that.]
no subject
He holds his palms out, just above hers, not touching.
She'll feel it almost immediately. Mordred's magic sifts across her hands, soft and delicate, like a warm breeze, just shy of a caress. It slips through her fingers, curls lightly across her wrists, until she may get the sensation that it's sinking in, beneath her skin, into her bones and blood. It doesn't suffuse her, but turns... coaxing. Almost a pull. It summons the magic in her to the surface.
Electricity crackles between their outstretched hands, little sparks leaping from her fingers to his like lightning in a bottle. Mordred watches intently, his brow still furrowed. His fingers spread slightly, the tingle of his magic rippling like water. The sparks develop a heat behind them, growing brighter, almost as if they catch fire for a single instant before they wink out. He flexes his fingers again, and the tips of hers start to grow cold, as if the circulation is failing. Mordred's gaze is sharp and bright.
Then, seemingly for no reason, Bryn's magic calms again and his own withdraws from her -- gently, like it's soothing the pieces of her it touched as it goes. Mordred clasps her hand briefly, making sure it's warm again, and then lets go.]
Well, I can assure you of one thing: this magic is definitely yours.
no subject
The water. The heat of an inner fire. The solid sense of earth. All of that is quite unexpected and her eyes widen as she feels it all rise and fill her to the brim.
She looks shocked and uncertain as he pulls away, as if she can't quite understand what's happened and, honestly, she can't. One element, she can grasp. But two? Three? Four?]
There's too much of it. Too many--people only have one, maybe two elements to call to hand and even then, half of them have them Gifted by the deities. Are you sure it's all mine?
no subject
The natural magic on this moon is... augmented, and wild -- I expect as a result of the war. Land ravaged by conflict has a way of holding on to that memory. It becomes defiant. [He gestures to her.] Your magic was born here, so I suspect the nature of it is much the same. But it was born in you. No magical object, no outside source. It's in your blood and bones. All yours.
[Mordred looks at Bryn for a moment. From his perspective, this is a blessing anyone ought to be grateful for, but he's not so detached that he doesn't appreciate how overwhelming it could be as well.] Are you all right?
no subject
I will be. It's a lot to take in. Back home, people discover their abilities when they're children. They're born with it there and it manifests early enough for it to be second nature to them by the time they're my age. It was one thing to have just the one but to know there's that much more is...a lot to process.
[Pursing her lips together, she reaches out without looking for the nearest piece of food she can find and sticks it in her mouth, needing to do something while they discuss this.]
My father would be beside himself with joy if he knew. Both of them, really. My mother too.
no subject
Fortunately, Bryn is not irresponsible, psychopathic, or stupid. And she has friends to help.]
That's wonderful that they'd be supportive of you. I can understand why you would be so overwhelmed, but until it's proved otherwise, treat it as a gift. [He smiles slightly.] ...is my advice, at least.
no subject
It's a gift, just a complicated one. This power is like being given more than a fortune. It's a treasure trove. One that I couldn't take back home with me, should the opportunity arise. And I ought to go home the moment I get that chance but...
[Even trailing off, the look she gives him speaks volumes. Who would give up such a gift as this?]
no subject
You don't have to make that choice yet, you know.
no subject
[And she doesn't want to fuck her life over on a gut feeling she hasn't reasoned out yet.]
no subject
Bryn, I understand you want to have control over this. It's a good trait to have, and from what I've seen you manage it better than most people would. But you can't let an uncertain future slow you down in the present.
[It's possible that she may recall their first meeting, when he expressed his own genuine disdain for prophecy and fate.]
Work with what you have, when you have it. It doesn't matter if it's five minutes or fifty years.