Waver Velvet | Lord El Melloi II (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
slightlytaller) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deernet2022-04-04 03:53 pm
slightlytaller) wrote in deernet2022-04-04 03:53 pm
Text | un: big ben
A quick question.
I see we're dealing with some sort of unending night scenario. The pirates and the squid thing are easy enough, but I've got to know:
Is this a Vampire kind of darkness or a Werewolf kind of darkness? I can figure the rest out accordingly if someone has an answer.
Also the convenience stores here suck. The tea is weak, I can't find a decent sandwich, and all of the rival shops are out of a proper cleaner to get the salt stains off my glasses.
Anyone feel like sharing any tips?
- V
I see we're dealing with some sort of unending night scenario. The pirates and the squid thing are easy enough, but I've got to know:
Is this a Vampire kind of darkness or a Werewolf kind of darkness? I can figure the rest out accordingly if someone has an answer.
Also the convenience stores here suck. The tea is weak, I can't find a decent sandwich, and all of the rival shops are out of a proper cleaner to get the salt stains off my glasses.
Anyone feel like sharing any tips?
- V
no subject
[A shrug. He wasn't inclined to that kind of exercise, thanks.]
It's just a popular recreation among some of the students I teach. Have you ever seen snow?
[Within the question was information that should spark an obvious one for Palamedes: This guy looked like a scrawny teen-- how could he have students? And yet-- Waver gamely flipped through the options on the rack, determining his choices more on texture than fit.
To the suggestion, he cast Palamedes a look and held fast to the sweater he had chosen. It was the only one with any red in it's design, and that alone helped Waver feel a little better.]
....I think I like this one.
[He said softly, holding it up. Even if it was a little big on him, it would more than do it's job for now.]
no subject
Suit yourself. And no: not before I woke up here. I was raised in a hermetically sealed Library and went on one very bad vacation without any snow, then — here.
[So that's just a big no all around.]
What do you teach?
[Like, Palamedes was Master Warden at 13, so it's not impossible that this tiny young man is a teacher...]
no subject
It helped him feel closer to his king.]
You lived in an archive?
[It was boggling to think about while he checked out his items, gladdened for the small mercy of the tellers waiving fees upon realizing that he had only been on shore for less than a week.]
I suppose that must be expected. You are the Warden of untold volumes and folios of paper kept in lightless and airless containment.
[A shrug. It was all he was going to comment on the matter. To the question, he tilted his head to the side.]
I'm the Professor of Modern Magecraft Theory at the Clock Tower, and I am proficient enough with alchemic principles to put them to use in analytic and forensic practices.
[...Why yes, he's a glorified librarian who moonlights as a freelance (ish) detective-- like in those cozy mystery movies grandmotherly types liked to watch on the weekends.]
no subject
[See, he can do that thing too; not that it matters one way or the other if people don't understand the Sixth here. Even the other Houses consider them cagey recluses in their weird metal tupperware, shuffling around artifacts. But alright: magecraft theory, which means magic school.
That's fun. Genuinely, Palamedes occasionally misses taking exams and toiling away days into weeks perfecting practical skills for class.
As an afterthought, he grabs a cloak from the rack; it feels heavier? It will do.]
I'm a necromancer, so alchemy is outside my area of expertise. Can I take your class?
[hahaha, jokes! no but really though.]
no subject
The school makes use of liminal and abandoned spaces within London-- the city I've been living in-- and there is a clock tower on campus. However, to say that we're in a clock tower is misleading. The school, as well as this faction within the larger Mage's Association, merely calls itself the Clock Tower.
[Welcome to Mage Politics, Palamedes. Even the 101 is confusing af to outsiders.
Waver regarded him with his head tilted in curiosity. For the moment, not even the dreary weather could dull the spark of energy in his dark eyes.]
I'm not sure how far Modern Magecraft Theory will go for someone who doesn't know the basics... but I can certainly teach you alchemy.
As a trade-off, would you teach me some of your practice?
no subject
Now then. The magics.]
You have to be born a necromancer, but if you want to know about anatomy, I can teach you that. Curative science is a hobby of mine.
[That is to say, not magic at all.]
The basics of your magecraft might be an unconquerable hurdle, but theory is interesting. You're a teacher; let's have a lecture.
no subject
[He heaved a frustrated sigh. Such was the story of his life-- clearly. And, clearly, he was on the wrong side of that divide even in his own world.]
Regardless, we can stick with the scientific basics. Alchemy follows many similar principles as chemistry-- and some people even say that chemistry only exists because of ancient alchemists.
[Even if it wasn't magic, they could still learn from each other and hone their individual crafts. Waver held his bag with the sweaters tightly under his arm and looked up at Palamedes with clear interest.]
Besides that, I do need to learn more about healing arts. Even if it's not magecraft, I've been party to too many crises with injuries to continue being useless in those times.
no subject
He hums, briefly moving aside to like, exchange a cool rock for this cloak or whatever. He's getting the first one he picked up and that's that, it'll be good enough.]
Sure, I'll show you the ropes. [No, he does not need a bag, he's going to put this new cloak on over everything else, right now--] That said, if you're going to wallow about how I was born lucky, or whatever your ancient lineage crap is, I'm going home. Being born a necromancer and being a good necromancer are two different things, and I really can't stand people who assume.
[So, like, those are his terms, delivered pretty blandly, all things considered. He arranges the hood of the cloak, flips it up, flips it back down, then holds his arms out at his sides. Look, behold the fashion.]
What do you think?
no subject
[Which, he didn't. Instead, he effectively dropped out and within the next couple of years put himself in debt to buy out lecturing rights once he learned one of his teachers had died in the same overseas affairs Waver had dropped out to participate in. As it stood, he was the only one of his old classmates to rise above the wash of politics and thrive within the last decade.
Regardless, it was still bothersome to hear.]
Fine. I won't say anything more about it. Your world is different from mine, anyway. There's no telling whether or not our arts are even compatible.
[Among a variety of other factors. Waver wasn't about to assume anything. He just knew his sore spots, and that was unfortunately the one single barrier that he could not overcome no matter how many lifetimes of hard work he put into his craft.
...Waver did want to change into his new sweater as well, but that would require removing the one he had on Foolish as it was, he wanted a little privacy to do so.]
...The cloak looks good, [He commented.] It's probably nice and comfortable for this weather, too.
no subject
Come with me, then.
[It's time to locate some fancy paper. Fancy paper won't cast any judgments on anyone, which is considerate. Palamedes leads the way out of the shop, stopping to remember it's dark outside, then turns and continues further down - away from the way they came.
Paper time, paper time...]
Just so you know, though, I'm not a doctor. It's basic first aid left when the "arts" are removed.
[You know, in case that actually isn't enough of a trade.]
no subject
[Waver replied, trotting along with him. It had been a long time since he was left in the dust left behind in someone's stride-- and not for the first time in recent weeks he was cursing his foul luck.
Wisely, he kept the bitter commentary to himself. There was no need to advertise that he had lost 30 centimeters while foolishly falling into a painfully obvious trap.]
There might be a time when magic fails to work, and we'll need to know how to splint and suture like any other medic.
... We going to the stationary shop?
no subject
[No, it's only the necromantic ability to pinch and pull at various bodily energies that brute forces necromancy into a "healing art." Barely. Necromancers are not particularly known for trying to save lives.
Luckily, this one cares about that!! And:]
We are. It's around the corner, if I'm recalling my streets properly in the dark. I'll let you take the lead on decorative choices once we get there.
no subject
[Waver commented, dryly. Then added:]
I bet the necromancers you work with also make chalk from bone dust, and use fingers as bullets.
[A shrug. One of the few colleagues that he trusted his students with was a necromancer of a unique reputation. More importantly, they both believed in the art of doing what was right instead of doing what the politics of their society told them to do.]
...You should be warned, I might not be that great with decorative choices. Most of my wardrobe is black.
no subject
[Is this a joke? He's not explaining it; maybe it is. The Sixth makes use of enough organic material, fat-based and so on, that maybe finger bullets wouldn't be so strange at all.
Still, it's delivered with the mild affect of maybe-a-joke-maybe-not, and he snorts, gesturing at himself and his head-to-toe grays.]
Blame the sun going out for a boring color scheme, if you want. Ultimately, it's your card.
no subject
[He shrugged. Waver and Sisigou Kairi, the Necromancer in question, were united in their shared disinterest in the politics of mage society but their willingness to play regardless. They both knew what was up, and that was the part that was important.]
I don't think Captain Amaranth will judge too much about the color. Her girlfriend, whom I've yet to meet, might.