theweakhavepurpose | Hadriel Inbox

Aheh. That was the intention, yes.

[At least Pratt sounds excited, even if he doesn't know exactly what it is Carlisle has gifted him. His smile fades just a little, his voice softening as his eyes affix themselves on his hands.]

I... know too well that this world can be frightening. That so often, the false gods delve into our nightmares and manifest them before our eyes. We have spoken of- of being mired in our own guilt. I told you I keep busy with gardening. It helps me cope with the mere weight of living, and I thought, perhaps, it might help you, as well.

[He smiles, soft and genuine.]

That's.. very kind of you. Something to ease the torment in my own mind? I could definitely use that.

Being alive is rough sometimes. Especially when.. circumstances out of your control start ruining everything no matter how hard you try to stop it.

[He picks the rock up again, just to have something to do with his hands and a place for his eyes to rest that isn't on another human being.]

What do the symbols mean?

There is only so much we can do against our circumstances, both here and in our own worlds. Finding a reason to keep surviving them is key.

[Even if he's only recently found his own reasons, ones he's actually satisfied with and not merely grasping at out of desperation. His eyes flick back to the stone as Pratt handles it, his voice still quiet as he answers.]

It's a glyph. That sigil there is for abjuration, and those for the various elements one might encounter in nature. And the platforms encircling them, along with the inscription there in that outer circle -- they dictate what the glyph should do when activated. In this case, forming a barrier.

That's well said. I could do with remembering that more.

[ And then Carlisle is explaining the rock and it's like he started speaking a foreign language. Not just a foreign language but as if he was explaining calculus in Arabic or something. He's getting a few words here and there: encounter in nature, inscription, forming a barrier. ]

A barrier? Is it similar to the dome you have over your garden?

[Carlisle's mouth widens into a grin.]

Yes. Just like it, actually. Well, a smaller version of it. I didn't know if you'd have anywhere to put it around your home, and it's not quite as sturdy as the one surrounding my garden in the park, and won't encompass nearly the area, but this one took quite a bit less work to craft and is far more... portable.

[Hey look at that! Pratt's kind of proud of himself, he's not a complete idiot and he didn't offend Carlisle by not knowing how any of this stuff works. ]

So I put this on the ground and plant all my plants around it.

.... How do I turn it on?

[He sidles a bit closer to Pratt.]

The contact point is this this arch here. It did occur to me that you might not have the ability to actually activate it. I'm not sure of the capacity for magic in your world, but I have met others here who, while their worlds had no known magic, were capable of utilizing it once taught. And a glyph is the barest form of magic I know, able to draw out the energy required from someone even if they are unable to manipulate that energy themselves.

[He wrings his hands once more, his nerves showing.]

But, should you be unable to activate the glyph, it is capable of maintaining its, ah. Charge, I suppose, for a day or so before the energy fades. And- and since we live so close, it is convenient that I could recharge it myself, if need be.

We don't have magic.

[He says it slowly though. They don't but they do have things that are unexplainable. How does Faith control the Bliss? It's just a drug, how is she physically present when people are dosed with it? How does Jacob appear in peoples hallucinations even when he's miles away? How does Pratt's voice carry into the trials?

He has no idea how any of that works. He assumed it was because he was going insane and something else was at play. But now being here he's seen so many things that he doesn't understand. Maybe it is something more.]

So it's kind of like a battery. I charge it up with my energy and it slowly uses that over time.

[He runs his finger over the glyph, wondering what he should do? Concentrate on making it glow? Think happy thoughts?]

Ah, yes. A battery.

[Said just like someone who is very proud he that he knows what a battery is. Most otherworldly technology scares him, but he's picked up on a few of the less frightening terminology.]

To 'charge it up,' you'll need to press your finger to the contact point. The glyph will do the rest. It is a fairly benign construction, so if it turns out you haven't enough energy to activate it -- but enough to get it started -- it won't drain you dry. Or fatally backfire.

[Probably.]

But if you'd rather I activate it to show you how it works, I don't mind.

[ He's so happy that he actually gets it. He feels like he's learning. ]

If it fries me, you can plant all this in my honor. Lemme see if I can give it a go.

[ A battery he charges with his own energy. Finally he's useful for something. He holds the rock in one hand tracing that engraving again before pressing where indicated.

He'd expected it to hurt or at least feel like something. But it sort of feels like touching the static of a computer monitor. It glows slightly, but doesn't exactly turn on.]

I did something!

[ He's delighted! Sure he's basically just made a faintly glowing rock, but it's the most magic he's ever done. ]

[Carlisle grin widens, stretching easily across his face as he eyes the now-glowing stone. Where Pratt touched is alight, the glow of energy slowly seeping into the lines etched around the rock, filling the circles and symbols one by one.]

So you did. I'd say it— oh!

[He doesn't even get the chance to finish his assessment as the stone vibrates gently, the energy trapped within it having finished its journey, and therefore activating the glyph; a barrier springs from the rock, engulfing them, passing over their bodies with a tingling sensation much like a sudden shock. It spreads around them, reaching around twelve feet in any direction before finally stopping, the barrier lingering like a translucent wall all around them. The temperature shifts, becoming more comfortable almost immediately.

Carlisle doesn't seem frightened -- just surprised.]

Goodness, that was more sudden than expected. How do you feel?

Edited 2019-01-23 05:22 (UTC)

[He keeps a tight hold on the stone, because he knows his first instinct is to drop the thing and that'll likely break whatever magic Carlisle has imbued it with. And just be plain rude since it's a gift.

He smiles up at the barrier around them. Look what he did!]

A little.. weird I guess.

[It feels like he's been tracking game through thick underbrush for hours. His body is tired and a little sore, but it's not so bad he needs to go lay down. And he has a dome! A magic one! Oh he's so happy.]

And this just feeds off me and the dome will protect my plants? This is fantastic!

[The corner of Carlisle's mouth curls tighter in a reassuring smile.]

'Weird' isn't bad. It's fairly average, actually. And you aren't wobbling like you might pass out, so I'd say better than average.

[He remembers that first time he realized he had the potential for magic -- it's a rush that he wishes everyone could experience, the immediate notion that there might be more to oneself than they ever possibly imagined. It gave him some sense of purpose, like he deserved to bear the name of Longinmouth.]

The initial activation should be the worst one. Just touch the contact point again every few days or so to make sure the energy doesn't fully dissipate, and the barrier should hold, protecting your plants and anything else encapsulated within it from the more extreme elements.

I'm used to being exhausted. Maybe it helped?

[Jacob made him strong and now it's paying off by letting him do cool magic things. This is fantastic.]

This is amazing. Thank you.

[He sets it down on the edge of his porch, adjusting it so it looks nice. He won't ever have anything as great to offer to Carlisle in return. But he'll dwell on that later.]

How did you learn to make these?

[As Pratt sets the stone on the porch, Carlisle looks behind them to see just how far it reaches. Not too shabby, if he does say so himself.]

I am, unfortunately, a self-taught glyphcrafter overall. My uncle, Benistad, taught me the very basics long ago, but as the easiest form of magic to learn, I likely could have taught myself that, as well, given enough time and the proper books. I will admit that I have had students in this place that surpassed my own glyphs so readily that I felt inadequate by comparison, but I have managed to find ways to serve my needs through the craft, particularly in schools of magic I cannot access on my own.

[He rubs at his neck, his shade deepening.]

I am... quite proud of these, if I am honest. I have to enlist some help in carving the glyphs into the rocks, so I cannot make many of them, you see. But with those I can, I hope I- that I can bring about something good in this world, even if only for a few individuals.

Giving back to the community.

[ He understands completely. If he could do something to help everyone here he would, even if it was something small. All he had to offer was his stockpile of soup and what he'd made out of the range.]

If it makes you feel any better I thought I was a good shot and then Nathan fucking destroyed me at the range.

Doesn't mean you're bad at it, just means other people are good at it too.

[ Though he knows that's hard to come to terms with. He may not be much of a cocky showoff anymore, but he still has a strain of that in him, and it stings to be shown up. ]

You should be proud of them, they're awesome.

[It is hard to come to terms with, especially when one has lived a life riddled with failures both genuine and perceived. He's failed to live up to the name he was, at one time, so proud to bear, and it has embittered him toward his lineage in a way he doesn't like to admit; he feels inadequate every time he thinks of those tall paintings in the Longinmouth estate, depictions of the family's finest moments, and knows he will never have one of his own.

If nothing else, at least he has these rocks, and some fine students. People who care for him in ways he never thought possible back in Bear Den, where his reputation and affliction alienated him. Homesick as he may be, things are... better here.]

I am. Proud of them- my students, I mean. And these rocks. And my garden. Gardens, now, I suppose. Heh.

[He smiles sheepishly. Good on you Pratt, making him thinking positively.]

[Pratt has pretty much never been a positive influence on anyone so this is new territory for them both.]

A man of many gardens. You're making this world a better place. One rock at a time.

But seriously, this is ... really thoughtful. Thank you.

[He doesn't know how to actually convey how pleased he is with words. Everything he thinks up sounds sappy and stupid, so he hopes that Carlisle just knows somehow.]

Are you training people to do magic?

[As pleased as he was about what good he's doing for a change, Carlisle can't help the pause that question gives him.]

I- ah. No, not currently. My— [He rubs at the knot in his neck, his smile fading.] My latest student vanished only recently. I... haven't the heart yet to seek out another.

[And given how badly he took Atem's disappearance, he's not sure he will be putting out feelers for more.]

Oh.

That's.. that's too bad.

[he hasn't had the experience of anyone disappearing yet. At least not anyone he was close to.]

I guess it's good that they got to go home. But disappointing to everyone left behind.

[There's no real winners of the people who aren't getting to go home. Assuming they want to anyway.]

Perhaps. I know not the circumstances of the world he left behind. Perhaps he was dead there, and this was his second chance.

[Carlisle: ever the optimist, most fun guy at parties.]

At least, while he was here, he was able to help me with some of my inscription work. There is not much else I can do but keep his contribution within my memory, and allow him to live on through it.

Edited 2019-02-15 03:49 (UTC)

People have said that before, that this place is a second chance for those who are dead. And even I thought that maybe that's what it was, but the more I think about it it doesn't seem like much of one. All the things people want to live for: family, friends, places, honor, pride; all that stuff - it's not here. It's back where they came from.

There's nothing to prove here. And even if we become wonderful people here, no one back home would know. So what does it even matter?

[Well he knows why it matters. It matters to himself. But it's bittersweet. If he can right some of the wrongs, atone for some of his poor decisions, he might personally feel a little better about himself but it won't actually make it better.]

That's a good plan, he's still with you then. In a way.

[Whatever momentary encouragement Carlisle receives from Pratt's approval of his plan is outweighed by his initial argument. None of the things he listed are back where he came from: not family, not friends, arguably not even honor or pride. Save for his goddess, nearly everything he has that he cherishes is here.

He cannot consider such a foul place home, he reminds himself. However, he has long faced the fact that he is utterly terrified of being sent back to Bear Den, back to an empty estate and a world that despises him as much as he despises himself. He twists his fingers.]

I suppose it only truly matters to the one person we must face each and every day: ourselves. Some people have only that, and no one else -- neither here, nor there.

[Spoken like a man who has no one waiting for him back home.]

[Oh. Pratt casts his eyes downward. He didn't have anyone waiting for him back home either, everyone thought he was dead or hoped he was, and he was eager to get back and give them what they wanted. Hours away from death it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter, and death would be a reprieve from his existence.

But .. not everyone thinks as twisted as he does. He's aware enough to know that some of the things that cross his mind aren't normal. Not only things that were planted there by Jacob, but even everyday thoughts had been twisted until he didn't recognize them. It's fitting, he barely recognizes himself anymore.]

You're right.

Just.. making the best of it? I guess that's what people are doing, even those who like it here. They're ... adapting. Surviving.

[He can't do that though. He refuses to think of this place as home. To accept this new normal.]

[Carlisle nods numbly.]

I suppose.

[He's silent another moment, his nails finding their way to that bandage on his arm and picking at it as he caters to his nerves. He finds his voice, and it's far quieter than it had been.]

It's... funny, really. Back home, in Bear Den, is where I would have something to prove to others. I have a lineage I cannot possibly uphold. A bloodline that dies with me, and a demise that, thanks to this place, I have been able to measure how awful it will be for those who remain. But it is here that I have found a way to stave off my affliction, and a reason to even do so. And I have asked myself time and time again: where is it I should be? Is it worse to be here, fed upon by false gods but truly living, or back home, where I am damned in both life and death?

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