(closed)

[deceitful]

who: Peter and Margo
what: Meet cute, round two
when: Now
where: Gramarye Magic Research
warnings: n/a



[ Technically, magic isn't Peter's forte. He's supernatural, sure, and while he's inherently magical, he can't perform it in the strictest sense. But what people seldom seem to realise is that magic is so much more than Harry Potter— waving a wand, saying an incantation, the whole shebang.

There's magic in ritual. Power in seasons, in the turn of the earth. Knowing random pieces of esoteric knowledge like that was how he brought himself back to life.

Curiosity is what brings him here to the research institute. Riverview has its similarities with its own world, but also its differences. Magic might be one of them, and where better to get an idea of that than here? (Plus, he's been sitting idle for a while now. Bored.)

So he walks into Gramarye Magic Research, and quite literally runs into Margo. ]

Comments

[deceitful]

[ Ah— so they're doing this. After a final, longing look at the book, Peter follows Margo in (and doesn't miss the furtiveness— is someone being naughty and breaking the rules?) to the office. The building's quiet aside from the hum of electricity, any heartbeats muted and far. Nobody in the nearby vicinity. ]

Not even if I ask very nicely?

[ Kidding. Or is he?

Scholarly curiosity takes precedence, and he abandons any flirtation in favour making a go on gesture at her.

Notes for his own reference: 1) Margo's used magic before in plain sight, suggesting where she comes from, it isn't unusual to be able to do it. That, or she's careless. 2) Her willingness to put on a demonstration suggests-- what? A certain amount of confidence in her abilities, or a desire to show off? Also, she doesn't have any sort of implement on her, as far as Peter can see. ]

[ibiza]

[ The flirtation doesn’t go unnoticed. Margo raises her eyebrows and smirks in response. With nothing else said on the matter, she gets settled and centers herself in preparation for a spell. The demonstration is the real reason they’re here, after all.

She makes a series of sharp movements with her hands, repeating them once, then twice, and holds out her right hand. First, orange and red sparks float upwards as if coming from thin air and then a flame sparks, burning in her palm and not harming the flesh one bit. Margo holds it there for a few seconds, then closes her palm and extinguishes the flame, smiling at Peter. ]

It’s a very simple spell, but you get the gist of things. Magic where I’m from is a force that exists like a well that you draw from. You cast spells by making somatic movements.

[ Margo cants her head to the side looking at Peter with a smile. ]

What about you? What is magic for you?

[deceitful]

[ He watches avidly, from the hand gestures (what do they mean? is there rhyme or reason to them?) and then the conjured flames, blinking once. It's impressive, and more than that, fascinating how the flames don't burn her flesh. The hypotheses run wild in his head: is it because it's an extension of her? Her own creation, so it can't hurt her?

Oh. But somatic movement. ] Then the meaning to the movements don't have so much to do with it than the intention behind it.

[ Not uncommon. Magic is usually half intent, half something else. He extends a hand. ] May I?

[ Take a look at her hand, that is. He speaks while he skims his fingers over her palm. It's smooth and unmarked. ]

Depends on which quarter you look for it. Druids are fairly common where I'm from, and most of their magic stems from rituals, nature, and fortune telling. Sometimes sacrifice.

[ibiza]

[ It’s not every day that Margo gets to show off. She smiles as she holds out her palm for Peter to inspect. ]

The spell is meaningless if you don’t will it to work. The big stuff takes a lot out of you. Anything beyond your ability or even close to it is actually quite dangerous to perform.

[ Once he’s done looking at her hand, she withdraws it and lets it fall to her side. Her eyebrows wrinkle with interest as he mentions druids. Her classes at Brakebills mentioned druidic magic, but never really delved into the topic. Natural magic, however, is very familiar to Margo. It’s one of the disciplines taught at her school, but of course it isn’t the one Margo specializes in. ]

Druids, huh? So, Celtic in origin?

[ She smiles a little bit, leaning a little closer. ]

What’s your interest in magic about?

[deceitful]

Celtic, yes.

[ The Celts took root in Beacon Hills generations ago. Whether or not one of them had brought the Nemeton across the ocean with them, a tiny seed hidden and cared for for the duration of that long journey, or if they had come because of the call of the tree— that's a distinction lost to the annals of time. They're an irritating and secretive lot.

He returns Margo's palm to her, tucking his own hands into his pockets. Fire isn't something he cares much to play with. Literal flames, that is. Figurative ones? He's all for it.

But not at the moment. His interest veers towards the academia rather than the practical, and he makes a considering noise. ]

It's useful. [ Even if he can't use it directly. ] Have you always known you're capable of magic?