One Saturday afternoon William received a text out of the blue from Margot (just Margot in his phone, she still hasn't submitted a surname to him yet).
Hey. I've been doing a lot of reading.
A dangerous statement coming from any Mage, smart ones like her in particular. Let's continue.
Want to go explore the woods and mountains tomorrow? I'd like to go hunting for Magic in the wild it comes from.
A funny way of asking somebody out for a hike, but there you had it. The start of a plan to head out toward the foothills the next day. MargoApt offered to drive since it was her harebrained scheme anyways (so she may as well eat the gas cost), and when she picked him up William'd discover the weather chill, the skies overcast and bright like the flashing steel of a sword. Margot was behind the steering wheel in sturdy jeans, dusty hiking boots, and a heavy wool sweater of black and red stripes. A brown jacket was in the backseat along with her backpack (stuffed full with plenty of day trip into the mountain essentials, of course).
Time would pass as it did (when left unbothered), and soon enough they were out on a hiking trail and Margot was standing at a bend in the path, paused and surveying a stretch of meadow and grass before the grass gave way, submitting to the trees that sucked the nutrients from the earth and the sun from the skies.
"Nothing to be found on the trail. Come on," and she stepped off the path and started down the small slope to the meadow instead. As she went, hands on her pack straps, she called over her shoulder to William.
William
Literacy is a dangerous thing.
Nothing good ever came out of reading a book when you were of the magickal persuasion, if only because books provoked questions and questions required answers and sometimes those answers were things that you didn't necessarily want to find out. William was gearing up for the end of a semester that he had o0nly marginally been paying attention to, so there is an offer laid on the table to him- exploration in particular.
And how could he resist?
The young man agrees, emphatically, asks how long they were going to be if only because he might need to prepare. It was going to get colder later in the night, and they were venturing up and well past the point where he was certain there would be no air. William was born below sea level, and the mountains (though refreshing) can provoke the feeling of lightheadedness that comes with holding one's breath for too long.
He might not be as fast as Margot, but he could keep going for quite some time if necessary. The distance doesn't seem to bother him and, strangely enough, he had been quiet for some time. Didn't disturb the fact that they were in nature, occasionally lingered to look at something or paused because he might have heard something. William Holmes hears a lot of things, sometimes those things might not necessarily be there.
Come on, she says, and steps off the path.
He grins, clad in a pair of jeans and some hiking boots that have seen some wear. He's wearing a pullover and a knit cap. They very much look the part of people who will later be discovered eaten by a bear.
"You do this a lot?" he asks.
Margot
Though there wasn't much wind today, not even up where the mountains liked to create air currents, it was quite cool. Moving their bodies kept them warm, and Margot had unzipped the jacket that she'd put over her sweater already. The question gained a glance from the bottom of the grassy slope, where Margot was waiting up for William before setting forward toward the trees.
"I used to, before I moved out here. It was more forests and not really a lot for mountains back in Maine. And the ocean." There's a tiny note of melencholy when mentioning the Atlantic. She missed it, obviously. "I'm trying to get out more, though."
She gestured forward, stretched an arm out and indicated with a couple fingertips instead of pointing directly. "A lot ties into the Earth, but more than just the dirt under the sidewalks back in the city. I think that the ties get stronger, the further into the wild you get. That's what I wanna test out."
William
He listens. Keeps his mouth shut while she's talking and actually pays attention instead of doing the thing that people do when it very much gives the impression that they are waiting for the other person to stop talking so that they can talk and do whatever it is that they would normally do.
"I know that, in some instances, the barrier between the spiritual world and the physical world are thinner the further you get away from human influence," he says, "and certain times of the year and correspond with a shallow space between the worlds... but it doesn't correspond with all spiritual planes." As though he's saying this from experience, though he is paying attention to where they are. Looks down when he's walking down the slope to make sure he doesn't plant on his face.
Stops for a second, pockets a rock. Keeps moving.
Margot
"Right, the Gauntlet," Margot agreed along with what William had explained. It wasn't the kind of agreement that came from 'I already knew that one', though, but rather that she understood the paramaters of what they were speaking of, enough so that she knew the vocabulary at least. That the Gauntlet was thinner the further away from concrete and skyscrapers, though, that was what she was testing.
"That's kind of what I'd picked up in what I was reading. And it would make sense that Magick may be stronger where the Gauntlet is thinner, too. Things are inherently more Magickal over on the other side. Osmosis and all that..."
At certain points the grass grew tall enough to reach Margot's thighs (the top of William's knee instead, most likely, for Margot was a small-statured thing), and to the left and right were different blooms of spring-- bright yellow and bold violet and delicate little threads of white as well. Her palms were tickled by the tops of the grass when she waded through, but came to a pause where the grass began to yield to the denser trees and forest.
She stood with her feet planted and one hand on her hip, the other still on her pack. She looked into the woods thoughtfully, with her dense brows stitched together in the middle-- not worried (for once), but contemplative. Planning. Making decisions.
"Hey, what about you? Where does your Magick root itself, and how do you unlock it? I know Hermetics have words and wands and all, but... What about anything raw?"
William
"Raw like being unadultered or raw like flayed open?" he asks for clarification.
A pause.
"And it isn't... words and Words are different things. Magick is the act of fundamentally stripping away the pretense and the bullshit and working with what is. Ehyeh ašer ehyeh, I am that I Am- or I am what I will be." He then says something. Something that... it is a word. It is most assuredly a word but it is most assuredly not in a human language. "That- it's light, but that word is more than light, is the embodiment of everything that light is. When something is given a name or a word it's-"
He falters for a second, like he isn't sure if he can do the concept justice, "it's given a definition, and by giving something a definition you give it a shape that is at once useful and binding.
"When people talk about quintessence, they think oh, building blocks of magick and what fuels it but it's more than that. It's everything. It's the ground beneath us, the spirits in the umbra, the reason that the first thing we can do with Ars Vis is strip the raw power from the blood and viscera from our own bodies.
"It's the fundamental proof that we are only separate by our Names and not by our root definition."
A second.
"I'm rambling. Basically, for me, the act of magick is touching the world at the core of what it is and manipulating it because ours is the Will of Creation and we are not separate being from what spoke us into existence. I don't know if I actually answered the question."
Margot
Much as he had done for her, Margot had the good courtesy (the good thought, the sharp mind, and the scary curiosity) to keep quiet and listen when he spoke. Hermetics had words and Words, and William was speaking both, and both were incredibly important right now. So she stood in that same stance with her big eyes upon him, listening intently. Dark brows hopped up on her forehead, interested by the word that was light (by his definition), but certainly wasn't something dreamt up by man, lest it was the first one spoken at Babylon perhaps.
When he finished, Margot grinned a little at his conclusion. Chuckled, then rolled her head to indicate forward and stepped into the treeline.
As she walked, she answered him.
"Unadulterated or flayed, I suppose, both have served fine. I mean... I don't know, raw. Like sweat or blood or tearing or pain or... pounding." She furrowed her brow, realizing she was basically just dipping into a paradigm that she and Ned were creating between themselves. Little bits of each, here and there. But she was still trying to drive to a point. She was hunting for more things than just the Magick in the trees.
"Pretty much everything I've found that works for me has been something raw. I'm looking for somewhere we can connect."
William
"Yeah, that's actually a thing. Pain, sweat, blood, connection- it's all a thing you can use, or at least things I have used, to reach into that inner understanding that the boundary between you and me and the rest of the universe is bullshit."
A second, then, "when I first woke up, one of the first things I could do and noticed and was confortable with was feeling the way things break- Entropy. Pain's the only way I know how to get to that particular destination."
Margot
The Verbena-in-training nodded her head, and the shaggy bob of muted brown hair bounced along with. A hand reached up to tuck that mass back, and when she did she passed through a patch where trees hadn't quite bloomed from the spring just yet. The sunlight caught the side of her face, and William would notice that her hair was glimmering ruby-copper-crimson at the temples. Streaked through, but it didn't look like she'd intentionally dyed it that way. Thin, here and there, like she was going salt-and-pepper-gray but in different colors than usual.
"Pain seems to be a key for a lot of people. Myself, I don't take anything away from it. It's still just.... pain." She frowned, but continued. "A lot of what Ned does is with pain, though. And intoxicants, but..." She shook her head and waved her hand. This wasn't a story about Ned, and his story wasn't hers to tell anyways. Not that part at least.
"But I am a blood witch, basically by definition. They usually go hand in hand, so that can work."
She was looking about the forest around them, scanning the scenery without reaching past and deeper into the fibers of reality, but just seeking with her eyes in the same way that she did before they Opened and she Awoke. Feeling out the scenery. In particular, hunting hopeful for a creek she suspected should be around here someplace.
"....I don't know any Entropy, though. It's on my list of things to learn."
William
He notices things. Little thinks. Like the way that her hair looks now, how it is glimmering ruby copper sunset in some places. At her temples, like she may have been graying but instead her hair came in more like a red fox than a silver one. Here his eyes are still green, but more vivid if only because he's offset by nature. Hair more golden because the sun is kind to him. Comfortable here in the way that he is comfortable most places.
Intrinsically pleased, because finally it was quiet.
She mentions blood, though, specifically blood. Does make him stop. Does make him look with brows raised and a smile that crosses his face with something that seems like a cross between recognition and fondness, "I can work with blood. LIteral or figurative. What all do you know how to do so far?"
"If you're cool with physical contact, we have a lot of overlap."
Margot
It should make sense, like a puzzle piece fitting into place, that Margot would work with blood. William had felt her Resonance before, though he hadn't felt her do Magick yet to really know the seeping sticky skin-crawl of being around her Craft. Still, though, it clung to the air around her. Like how murder never truly leaves a room even after you scrub the walls.
She was surprised to find that he smiled, though. Margot had come to expect that the core nature of her Craft would bother the more refined, but she was also starting to learn that people here defied her expectations more often than not. If anything, the Mages were more intrigued by her than off put.
If she was cool with physical contact or not, though... She looked at him questioningly and tipped her head just a bit. How her eyes set on her face coupled with the movement had her leaving an incredible impression of an owl there.
"Well, within reason, sure."
Proud of herself for not blushing and flustering, but quick to usher along to the next thing all the same, she turned and started walking again. Along the natural upward-and-leftward curve of the ground they were walking, with the flow of the earth. Seeking that running water still. She spoke of what she knew while on her forward march.
"I'm an Apprentice. I can just... sense. But I know of Life, and of Spirits. Of Prime and Forces and Matter and as of just recent of Correspondence as well. I can find ghosts, and sickness, and I understand space and can find things and people and.. well, the sky's the limit with application, really."
William
"No kissing on the lips. Just like in Pretty Woman."
He's joking. He's very obviously joking. Grins and keeps on walking because she's not blushing or flustered but damned if he didn't want to try and get her there. Hands go in his pockets. Backpack stays where it is because he comes with tools- makes it a point to come with tools because a much of his practice seems to be bound up in the physical even though it is so very conceptual.
He has to touch something. Has to be in the thick of it, can't remove himself from being in the middle of magick because distance is still very real to him.
They are coming up on water. It's babbling in the distance, or perhaps rushing because water does what it will.
"Let's try something with Life," he offers, "I think that might be our best overlap. I could try and share the perception of entropy with you if you wanted- it would be kind of... uh... a group hallucination doesn't quite fit, but it's kinda like that?"
Shakes his head.
"It's interesting to perceive the relationship between growth and breakdown."
Margot
The joke is taken as such, and Margot just grinned back at him, the expression a little lopsided and not without its own tiny flint of warning behind it. I know you're joking but seriously watch your step buddy this is tricky path you're climbing around on. There was water somewhere ahead, and they could catch its whisper in their ears now.
"Group hallucination isn't far off, though. Not sure how else I would describe it. Ned and I made a joint effort at scanning where I live and managed to reach out into the whole building instead of stopping at just one room like I'd normally have to. His way of sensing things is different, though. It was like having a technicolor grid mash up with gut-sense and intuition. It made me feel dizzy. I'm pretty sure I almost fell off the table," she added with a small chuckle.
There, up ahead, a brook. Narrow and cut not very deep into the earth (but grooved all the same, it's been running long enough to make its mark for certain). Margot looked satisfied with what they'd found and came to a stop to look up where it was coming from, down to where it went.
"....I think that water's going to have something to do with healing and cleansing, when I'm able to do more. It's tricky, when I'm figuring out what does what and is associated with what, but I'm not able to actually test it yet."
William
They come upon a brook and he looks at it, eyes wary for a second in the way that someone who was burned at the stake in a past life looks at a campfire. Knowing that, yes, this is no threat, but at the same time it's just memory enough that it causes concern. (It is no past life, not even a decade old. Fear teaches many lessons. To some, it is a spirit of Respect.) William knows not to assume that water is soft.
Crusher of cities. Giver of life. That which carves through mountains.
"I can see water and blood being similar- and water and fire, in that regard, for cleansing. Makes way for something new, takes away impurities," he thinks aloud, continues onward and stops, finally, when he's at the edge of the brook. Looks for a stone to stand on, to tempt trepidation.
"Do you think it's healing in the physical sense or healing in the mental sense?"
Margot
"Physical," Margot answered definitively. She'd glanced at him when she felt the hesitation and pause in the air upon finding the creek at last. Saw the wariness there, recognized a familiar aspect to it, and politely looked forward to ignore it (ignore, but not fail to recognize). They weren't here to expose demons and weaknesses. The day didn't need to be nearly as heavy as all that.
"I've done that much before. It's the mental healing that I couldn't--," she cut off there with a hard frown and small shake of her head. "...The mind is tricky. I have a hard time finding where that area exists between the Soul and the Body."
Content with just being able to see the stream for now, Margot shrugged off her pack and set it on the ground in front of her toes with the air of someone who was settling for the moment. Knees bent outward so she could crouch down and unzip the pack. When she stood again it was with a water bottle in hand, the other hand twisting its cap off for a drink straight away. The cap wasn't reunited with the bottle straight away, but Margot did take a break from rehydrating to glance back over to her golden-haired companion.
"I've seen plenty of the breakdown of Life, but not a lot of the growth. One of my neighbors has some tremendous cancer that I'm able to feel just chewing away at them under my bed. Not a lot of growing going on there."
William
(Hop! Dex+athletics)
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 4) ( botch x 1 )
William
[Don't panic! WP]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
William
[Damage? Because rocks and oww?]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 5, 10) ( success x 1 )
William
[Soak, because only my pride is damaged]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )
William
Inhales slow and deep and looks at the water again. It is life. That which makes all things possible when it comes to a breathing earthly form. It should be easier for him to interact with it right now. Takes a look at Margot again and her water bottle and her definitive answers.
He couldn't leave it alone. Couldn't just stand there and be concerned by its presence. Ditches the backpack at the shore and finds a stone he feels like he could stand on. Makes a hop for it-
And lands. Definitely lands, but water, you see, is slippery. Water is slick and stones are not built for being stood on often. They are slippery and there is no such thing as treat and he falls.
Splashes.
Doesn't quite float away because there's not much water there and certainly not enough to drown in, not enough to send him scrambling to his feet and looking like a terrified and soggy cat. Nope, just enough for him to be pretty goddamned wet.
William just sits in the water.
"..."
Yep. She saw that. Play it cool.
"Cancer fucking blows."
Margot
[Willpower: I promise I'm trying not to laugh at you]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )
Margot
There was idle curiosity present while Margot watched William climb himself up on top of a rock and go to hop into the creek. Or maybe he intended to hop over it? It seemed to Margot that it was some effort to conquer the miniature waterway and what it was doing to his psyche, which was why she tried very hard not to laugh openly at him when his landing put him ass-down in the cold water.
Her eyes went wide and her expression brightened with the start of laughter, but she clamped her mouth closed and her nostrils flared and she managed to keep herself from snorting and giggling and slapping a knee while pointing (though, let's be honest, that's all anyone wants to do when somebody lands flat on their ass in the water).
"Aw, man, don't just sit there," she told him with a shake of her head and walked (not jumped) down to offer to help him up. She was frowning sympathetically at how wet his jeans were, in particular. It was a chilly day out, after all.
"Do you have any way to dry yourself off? You'll freeze yourself pretty quickly rocking around the mountain in wet jeans."
William
Aw, man, don't just sit there.
Which was when he lost it.
Absolutely lost it. Doesn't have the good sense to cover his mouth or restrain the laughter and he can't fucking help it because his ass hurts and this is somehow hilarious to him.
"But-" Nope. Keeps laughing.
"Fuck," takes her hand as a symbolic gesture and just gets himself up. He's wet. He's really wet, doesn't seem to care, "it's good, it's good, I'll dry out when we're done. Let's sense springtime- whole big blooming literally fucking wilderness."
Margot
William's laughter had caught Margot by surprise. It didn't startle her, though, which was an entirely different thing. She stood with her boots planted one on the bank and the other on a patch of dry earth and stone that the creek bubbled around. Infectious as laughter had the habit of being, a grin spread wide across Margot's face as a way of joining in the spirit.
"Oh come on," she told him when he dissolved into laughter the second time (with a jingle of a laugh in the sound of the statement all the same), and that was when he cursed and accepted her hand and help up to his feet, unnecessary though the assist may have been. He'd worry about drying himself later, and she raised her eyebrows at him as though to ask Are you sure?, but didn't speak the question or dwell upon it. Instead, she shrugged one shoulder and moved on ahead.
She'd let go of his hand once he'd found his feet, and now stood with hands idle at her sides.
"Well, alright, let's do this then. What Life are we feeling out, and how?"
William
"Rabbits?" he pauses, thinks for a second, "we can cast a wide net, or as wide as our current perceptions will let us throw. Define our search once we find something interesting."
He's soaking wet and he's got a smile on his face.
Reaches for her hand all the same, "how do you normally do this for yourself? Do you ever just try and feel the world around you for the Hell of it?"
Margot
Her eyes went from the smiling face to the hand reaching for hers. She looked skeptical, but put her hand out in front of her with the palm facing up all the same. There was doubt there, in how she looked at their hands together. Like something was missing and she was deciding what.
"Well, usually I have an idea of what I'm going to be looking for. Though when we scanned the building I mostly knew where we were looking. But typically it's like... I can feel around a house with my senses looking for vibrations to find movement and can mix that with Life to find living things and know where they are and if they're running, sitting, jumping...."
"Rabbits are fine. Birds, just animals in general." She was nodding her agreement, but still found herself glancing back to the hands held together between them.
"...I don't know that I can follow along with you without a tool that works for me, though... Touch alone's never been in my Craft."
William
"This is how this has worked for me in the past-
"Water is the basis for all living things on this plane- it's like blood in that sense. I hadn't actually intended on being a sopping wet mess, but it'll work for now, hence the lack of desire to dry off or become weatherproof right now.
"A physical connection, though not necessary is helpful for me. Symbolic embodiment of the connectedness of life and nature in general. At which point we're going to need to focus, swap spit- or blood, preferably blood because I'm working with you and not Sera and I said I was going to be a gentleman and I feel like magickally making out would not be the best idea right now."
He continues.
"From physical sensation to bleeding to hearts beating to transcendence of boundaries and tada rest of the world. For me, with that connection, it would start at a single point- you, because we're close or touching, then out to encompass whatever else the senses can handle."
A beat.
"Again, not necessary so long as there's bleeding or tears or spit or sweat or something. Touch is just a convenient bonus."
Margot
For two people to work magick together, an understanding had to be struck and the common ground forged. Margot was by and large unfamiliar with how William worked, and so he explained-- connectivity, touch, physical things of the body for working with Life. He'd made a comment about swapping spit but opting not to and earned himself the same reserved half-cautious half-unsure (yet in spite of herself still a little entertained) expression that was beginning to grow familiar when around him.
Not the best idea right now, he'd said. Her agreement was clear enough, and he continued. Still, though, when he'd concluded her brow was heavy with a thoughtful frown.
"Alright," she said, "hold that thought then." And shook her hand from his so she could go back to her pack on the ground. The front pocket was unzipped and its contents considered carefully for a few seconds before she made up her mind, snatched a small knife, and returned. The brown leather it was sheathed in was unsnapped and tucked into her coat pocket. Her left hand was held out again, palm up, but before there was much time for him to take it back she'd brought the blade to a particular patch in the palm of her hand that she had been shown-- where to cut while doing the least damage possible.
"When in doubt, bleed it out," she told him with a shrug and an almost bitter note. Don't worry, Margot, before long you'll break that glass ceiling and be able to make real change, then the tools will get easier. "Alright, let's do this."
Without much further ceremony, the Witchling steeled herself and dug the blade into her hand. She hissed sharply and the knife dropped into the dirt and water along with a drop or two of red. Then she held her hands out, the both of them, palms up with the left streaking crimson into her life and death and love lines all the same.
[Magic magic modifiers what have you here we go]
Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (7) ( success x 1 )
William
He's learning that a pocket knife is important to have around, if only because he's found he can do any various and sundry things with one. It's small and a little dull and he watches when she digs through her palm, winces and she hisses and he does the same.
Flicks the blade open and it's small enough that it's innocuous, dull enough that he has to really apply pressure to draw blood. Breathing becomes uneasy and forced calm. He doesn't usually cut across his palms. Usually goes somewhere soft or bites his tongue or drags something sharp across the inside of his forearm, but keeping the motion parallel is important to him.
Clenches his jaw because it hurt, exhales with satisfaction and locks eyes with her. Exhilerated, primed, anticipatory, reaching- he's in his element and he's alive and like this was what he was born to do. Willworking. Pulling the fabric of creation itself.
Same hand. Same method. Drops the knife into the water because symmetry.
Blood falls. Eyes eyes with her.
Exhale.
(Magick!)
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (4, 5) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
MargotFor a brief moment, the symmetry had her worried. Influenced by the fact that he was cutting his hand as well, and also born of what she knew so far (there has to be touch, a connection, to share the experience), she saw the symmetry and worried that he would try to seize her hand. That the conduit would be blood as well as flesh, and frankly she didn't like the idea of becoming a 'blood brother' with him (sorry Will).
But Margot was smart and quick on her feet and quick in her mind as well, and she was getting better and better at reading people. He was seeking symmetry, and there was a ritual in that and that alone-- like a dance, almost. And when she looked up and found his eyes already locked onto hers, a jolt went down her spine, through her knees and grounded her there in the earth.
He breathed out, and she felt the breath pull from her lungs along with-- like a billows, working and pumping together, with the breath of Life to build the pressure and direct the machine, with the blood and pure Magick to serve as the fuel.
What Margot brought to the table would not contend much against William's, for the force of his Magick was double her own, and sheer force of will had built it further. It was still there, though-- a sense that didn't manifest visually but rather as a sense within one's self. A tug in the gut and the heart in the direction of where Life was, a mutual sensation of the heartbeat of the thing that lived and breathed elsewhere from there. Perhaps a dull red in the black void of echolocation-esque scanning, but only because red was associated so strongly with the warmth of life.
There were plenty of creatures alive in these woods, and they could feel many all of them.
WilliamThere was a benefit to having been courted by so many and summarily dropped by them in similar fashion- William Holmes has seen a number of ways people work and Work and has developed practices dissimilar to what one would think a Hermetic worked like. This, of course, was a lie of sorts. They are not as cookie cutter as they seem, unified under common ideas but, at the same time, the practice varies wildly.
He tried once to explain to a young woman, who considered herself a beacon fo darkness and a worshipper and devotee of the Old Gods- who called him a sunflower, who gave her sight to the Morrigan, who held disdain for so many people of the city- he'd tried to explain to Arionna that there was a purpose in etiquette, that there was meaning in ritual even if people didn't remember what the meaning was. This is ritual in itself, even if the ritual isn't written down.
Ritual isn't always written into the pages of some book or held up by some Golden Dawn figures who don't know the true meaning behidn what they do- it is communication. It is symbolism.
They perceive the life around them differently, but they perceive it together. Red, red blood falls and strikes a contrast against green, green grass. There are birds around them tiny fish in the brook, crawdads under rocks and insects in the grass and a spider liquifying its prey as some little red tailed hawk in the distace, just barely at the edges of their perception, is laying its eggs.
Three. Specificially, three eggs.
His heart is beating hard and fast and his breathing is calm. This is Effort. This is grounding.
MargotThey switched from individual animal to animal after getting a basic understanding of the density of life in their area (animal life-- non-insect, though, that was asking for an overload). When they came upon the hawk Margot reached toward Willaim with the hand that wasn't dribbling blood onto the ground, found his sleeve and grasped it.
"Look," she breathed, and they observed without quite necessarily 'looking', for though Margot's face was still turned toward William she certainly didn't seem to be doing much seeing with her eyes-- far too focused on what was Perceived instead.
Sooner or later, ultimately it didn't matter out here in the woods Time was easier to lose and perhaps even mold (another day). Margot's left hand clenched closed over the wound and her fist turned then withdrew. She blinked a couple of times and then cast her gaze away, toward the ground between their feet. To the blood mingling together on rock and stone and threatening to make its way to the water as well.
She swallowed, huffed a breath out, then opened her hand and looked at the cut. "Shit, that felt like a good idea at the time."
WilliamHe seems primed to deal with the sensory overload that comes with perceiving everything around him. Margot's the one that seemed to put precision to it; William would be more prone to letting it all flood through like it was a leavy breaking or a retaining wall crumbling. Take it all and sort it out later- Margot is much more focused than this.
She reaches for his shirt and he stands still, holds his breath and he's awestruck. This is life. This was the life that he had craved for so long to see, not the fish eating the worm but the birth of the universe, the creation that lets him focus for a second on something other than the destruction of it (never lasts long, he kmnows they go hand-in-hand, but he's no wheel turner so he doesn't have to make peace with that yet.)
He finally stops holding his breath, closes his eyes tight before turning her way and opening them again. Looks at her hand-
"At some point, it'll get where you can close that up, no problem," he starts to meander to his bag, "need help bandaging it up? I don't think you went too deep, but it's gotta hurt."
Says the man whose hand is still bleeding. He'd know if it was too deep- they both would. They reached out to feel the entirety of the life around them, it would include the beating hearts in the closest proximity.
Margot"I've seen it done. It's a while until I get there." Margot looked up from her hand to Will and offered a small smile-- one born of exhileration and insight to a secret that the vast masses of humanity didn't know. "I'm sure I will, though."
He offered to bandage up her hand, so she nodded and turned to climb the small embankment and return to where her backpack was left on the ground. There, with a foot to hold the pack in place and her right hand to do the rest of the work, she produced a little red first aid kit. This was set on the ground, and she sat down cross-legged in front of it. Figured William would be joining her on the earth soon enough.
"If you can help get my hand bandaged first, I'll be able to return the favor."
A pause, where her eyes flicked up to and found his. Shit. Innuendo. Her eyebrows raised, and she grinned. "Heh. Y'know what I mean."
WilliamI'll be able to return the favor, she says.
"You promise?" he replies with a grin. Cheeky, he sits down across from her and tries to remember the things he's seen on Saturday morning specials and during all the times that he has had to staunch bleeding but slicing wounds are a little different from punctures. "I would say something about getting wet just thinking about it, but I'm already there- so."
A shrug. A beat.
"That innuendo doesn't work when you're a guy, that was lame, I apologize immediately," he gets on to working.
"How long you been doing this?"
MargotThe cheeky grin and retort that he gave back was accepted in stride, and for that Margot felt a little accomplished. She was so bashful usually, so easy to bring to an embarrassed flush, so some innuendo-laden banter being taken in stride was satisfying for her, in a way. She looked down to start unzipping the first aid kit for him and offer up what she'd brought along further, and he continued on to explain that he was already wet, so...
Margot looked back up at him with surpise, appearing taken aback and not really sure at first of how to respond. "Uh...."
Then he took it back-- apologized because it didn't work. She stared for a moment, then chuckled and held out her hand for him to start working.
"What, Magick? I Awoke last June. But I kind of... wandered a bit after that. It was only this January that I really started to understand what's going on and what I can do." A pause, then a correction: "What we all can do."
WilliamWhat we all can do.
"The human will is capable of many a great and terrible thing when we figure out that we're not bound by-" he waves around him for a second before going back to the actual bandaging. He isnt' cavalier with this. Is actually taking his time and focusing because he wants to make sure tha tthis is done right and things are disinfected and that she doesn't get pond water in an open wound. It's a quick way to get a staph infection, that.
"Did you just kind of figure it out on your own?" William asks, he's curious, but moreover he seems impressed.
Margot"In bits and pieces, at first." He seemed impressed, and to begin Margot fed into that. She would watch his face when he spoke, and usually would switch back to watching the bandage work intermittently. She looked a bit self-pleased, because if Margot was anything she was smart, and she liked being praised by her teachers growing up and getting top marks and being recognized for that thing she was great at. After Awakening, though, the praise from a professor just didn't quite have the same ring to it. Acadamia wasn't nearly as important, relevant, or powerful as Magick.
But, she was balanced by being self-conscious. All too aware of her own shortcomings and failures, any ego she began to build was often quickly deflated. As it was now when she confessed:
"But I didn't get far. I didn't really understand what I was doing, nor did I do it often, and though I read a lot on the matter I didn't really test anything. I was afraid, still am kind of, of being discovered. Persecuted. You know, witch burnings and all.
"In January I met Ned Gaines and Dr. Andrés Sepúlveda. Ned was in exactly the same boat I was-- Awakened and lost. Then we found Doc, and he's real experienced, he can heal and make things appear out of thin air. He's explained things to us, continues to explain things to us as we keep going on forward, but we're pretty much structuring all of this ourselves as we go along.
"They're not Witches. Doc's a Scientist. Ned's a Worker, or a Crafter, maybe. I'm a Witch for sure."
MargotThen, added on more definitively, she concluded: "No, Ned's a Wielder."
William"Ned's a welder?"
Clearly, the fall on his ass hurt his hearing.
Margot"Wielder," she was prompt to correct, and he'd be damned if she didn't sound the tiniest bit like a know-it-all when correcting.
"Or a Brandisher. He'd probably call himself a Solver, since he looks at things like a puzzle, but I think he's going to use Magick with a force."
Not the magic Forces, that's different.
WilliamIt's leviosa not leviosa, he hears when she corrects him- because it does make a difference because welding and wielding are not the same things.
"Being a brandisher would be that he whips it out for certain occasions, is flamboyant with it- he doesn't strike me as the flourishing type from the few things you've said about him," a pause, a thought, "he could be a strider, one who moves with purpose in a specified direction, but I don't know about goals there.
"So, what is being a witch to you? The difference between a witch and a supplicant to the older ways," William finally finishes the bandaging, looks at it dubiously before looking at his own hand, clenches his fist for a second before letting it go, "doesn't look bad," he says to himself.
Purposeful, you see, because he could take care of that problem for himself really quickly.
MargotWith that particular spin put on the word Brandisher, Margot screwed up her face in response to the thought of Ned and flamboyance going together in the same sentence, then shook her head. "Not a Brandisher, then," she agreed.
But what about her, why was she a Witch? The girl took her hand back and checked the bandage job, not with a lot of scrutiny but rather to see if there were seams she should be careful of, ways that she probably shouldn't bend her hand if she wanted it to last longer. As she performed this check she answered musingly.
"It's in the Craft. I think how you go about doing your Magick is what brings you to your label-- part of it anyways, I should clarify. How you percieve it and believe it works of course plays into it." The dismissive wave of her hand sent that technicality away so she could continue her point.
"For me, my Avatar is an old Goddess of War. She wouldn't care about Science, and this manifestation, what I see and feel, it's too rudimentary and old for much... flourish. My magic just feels old and raw and so it's best suited for and channeled through things like blood rites, rituals with bones and ash by flame, and who knows what else the more I learn."
Her eyes hopped from her hand to his; he was flexing it and claiming it wasn't so bad.
"Do you want me to cover it anyway?" Hey, she did say she'd return the favor.
William"So, your magick isn't in her worship, it's in the act of doing as she would do. In living and being and breathing the way instead of being the moving piece in an Other's bidding?" he asks, not with scrutiny, but more like he was musing. More like he was thinking about the concept and the prospect of how magick is and what it makes you.
Holds his hand out, "reciprocity and symmetry are important, I'd love the help."
Back to thinking.
"I don't know what I am, then. Hermetics tend to get pegged with wizardry but I sure as shit am not Harry Potter or Gandalf."
Margot"Exactly," she said, somewhat astonished in answer to the understanding he'd tried for of how her magick worked. "I've been trying to explain it, and I think that's it. I'm not worshipping her, I'm more of an extension of her. I don't ask her for power, she has already given it to me and isn't taking it back."
She made it sound like she'd tried giving it back. Maybe that was unintentional-- who tried to go back to Sleep?
With his hand extended in turn, Margot set it knuckles-down on one of her knees (bigger work surface than it floating in the air or her trying to steady it herself) and took to cleaning before wrapping.
"You don't strike me as much of a wizard either, no magic words or wands or Familiars." She paused her work to look back up at his face; really look, study actually. Like she could find the answer in the plane of his forehead or breadth of his nose bridge.
"You feel like a boat in a storm out at sea when you work, but the boat doesn't capsize. Maybe you're a Discoverer? Like of new lands, except the new lands are actually just a metaphor for Existence."
William"Ah, be still my heart, it's like she knows me," he says, as though this is the best agreement he could muster that he did, in fact, agree with her assertion. That maybe he is one who Discovers. Maybe he is some kind of explorer, for good or ill seeking things one was never meant to know.
He's seen some shit. Hasn't broken his grasp with reality in such a fashion that others have noticed. Maybe he'd outgrown it with the nightmares (lies, all lies. He is tied to something older than old, formless because its form is broken. He doesn't break because he knows Things, even if he hasn't remembered them.)
"I'm keeping that, I think I like Discoverer."
MargotThe wide-eyed little witch smiled, and for once in a great while there wasn't a drop of worry or anxiety to be found tightening the expression. The bandage was clipped and tied neatly into place (she wasn't an expert, but she'd done this recently and watched any number of other bandages be tied up by more skilled hands than her own-- smart girls like her picked up on things), and she bounced her knee a little to indicate his hand was his own again.
"I'm glad, I thought it was a little inspired of me."
With the kit all packed up again, Margot stood up once more. Looked to William and shouldered her pack. "Come on, I'll bet we can find dry clothes and lunch for cheap back in Boulder.
But Margot was smart and quick on her feet and quick in her mind as well, and she was getting better and better at reading people. He was seeking symmetry, and there was a ritual in that and that alone-- like a dance, almost. And when she looked up and found his eyes already locked onto hers, a jolt went down her spine, through her knees and grounded her there in the earth.
He breathed out, and she felt the breath pull from her lungs along with-- like a billows, working and pumping together, with the breath of Life to build the pressure and direct the machine, with the blood and pure Magick to serve as the fuel.
What Margot brought to the table would not contend much against William's, for the force of his Magick was double her own, and sheer force of will had built it further. It was still there, though-- a sense that didn't manifest visually but rather as a sense within one's self. A tug in the gut and the heart in the direction of where Life was, a mutual sensation of the heartbeat of the thing that lived and breathed elsewhere from there. Perhaps a dull red in the black void of echolocation-esque scanning, but only because red was associated so strongly with the warmth of life.
There were plenty of creatures alive in these woods, and they could feel many all of them.
WilliamThere was a benefit to having been courted by so many and summarily dropped by them in similar fashion- William Holmes has seen a number of ways people work and Work and has developed practices dissimilar to what one would think a Hermetic worked like. This, of course, was a lie of sorts. They are not as cookie cutter as they seem, unified under common ideas but, at the same time, the practice varies wildly.
He tried once to explain to a young woman, who considered herself a beacon fo darkness and a worshipper and devotee of the Old Gods- who called him a sunflower, who gave her sight to the Morrigan, who held disdain for so many people of the city- he'd tried to explain to Arionna that there was a purpose in etiquette, that there was meaning in ritual even if people didn't remember what the meaning was. This is ritual in itself, even if the ritual isn't written down.
Ritual isn't always written into the pages of some book or held up by some Golden Dawn figures who don't know the true meaning behidn what they do- it is communication. It is symbolism.
They perceive the life around them differently, but they perceive it together. Red, red blood falls and strikes a contrast against green, green grass. There are birds around them tiny fish in the brook, crawdads under rocks and insects in the grass and a spider liquifying its prey as some little red tailed hawk in the distace, just barely at the edges of their perception, is laying its eggs.
Three. Specificially, three eggs.
His heart is beating hard and fast and his breathing is calm. This is Effort. This is grounding.
MargotThey switched from individual animal to animal after getting a basic understanding of the density of life in their area (animal life-- non-insect, though, that was asking for an overload). When they came upon the hawk Margot reached toward Willaim with the hand that wasn't dribbling blood onto the ground, found his sleeve and grasped it.
"Look," she breathed, and they observed without quite necessarily 'looking', for though Margot's face was still turned toward William she certainly didn't seem to be doing much seeing with her eyes-- far too focused on what was Perceived instead.
Sooner or later, ultimately it didn't matter out here in the woods Time was easier to lose and perhaps even mold (another day). Margot's left hand clenched closed over the wound and her fist turned then withdrew. She blinked a couple of times and then cast her gaze away, toward the ground between their feet. To the blood mingling together on rock and stone and threatening to make its way to the water as well.
She swallowed, huffed a breath out, then opened her hand and looked at the cut. "Shit, that felt like a good idea at the time."
WilliamHe seems primed to deal with the sensory overload that comes with perceiving everything around him. Margot's the one that seemed to put precision to it; William would be more prone to letting it all flood through like it was a leavy breaking or a retaining wall crumbling. Take it all and sort it out later- Margot is much more focused than this.
She reaches for his shirt and he stands still, holds his breath and he's awestruck. This is life. This was the life that he had craved for so long to see, not the fish eating the worm but the birth of the universe, the creation that lets him focus for a second on something other than the destruction of it (never lasts long, he kmnows they go hand-in-hand, but he's no wheel turner so he doesn't have to make peace with that yet.)
He finally stops holding his breath, closes his eyes tight before turning her way and opening them again. Looks at her hand-
"At some point, it'll get where you can close that up, no problem," he starts to meander to his bag, "need help bandaging it up? I don't think you went too deep, but it's gotta hurt."
Says the man whose hand is still bleeding. He'd know if it was too deep- they both would. They reached out to feel the entirety of the life around them, it would include the beating hearts in the closest proximity.
Margot"I've seen it done. It's a while until I get there." Margot looked up from her hand to Will and offered a small smile-- one born of exhileration and insight to a secret that the vast masses of humanity didn't know. "I'm sure I will, though."
He offered to bandage up her hand, so she nodded and turned to climb the small embankment and return to where her backpack was left on the ground. There, with a foot to hold the pack in place and her right hand to do the rest of the work, she produced a little red first aid kit. This was set on the ground, and she sat down cross-legged in front of it. Figured William would be joining her on the earth soon enough.
"If you can help get my hand bandaged first, I'll be able to return the favor."
A pause, where her eyes flicked up to and found his. Shit. Innuendo. Her eyebrows raised, and she grinned. "Heh. Y'know what I mean."
WilliamI'll be able to return the favor, she says.
"You promise?" he replies with a grin. Cheeky, he sits down across from her and tries to remember the things he's seen on Saturday morning specials and during all the times that he has had to staunch bleeding but slicing wounds are a little different from punctures. "I would say something about getting wet just thinking about it, but I'm already there- so."
A shrug. A beat.
"That innuendo doesn't work when you're a guy, that was lame, I apologize immediately," he gets on to working.
"How long you been doing this?"
MargotThe cheeky grin and retort that he gave back was accepted in stride, and for that Margot felt a little accomplished. She was so bashful usually, so easy to bring to an embarrassed flush, so some innuendo-laden banter being taken in stride was satisfying for her, in a way. She looked down to start unzipping the first aid kit for him and offer up what she'd brought along further, and he continued on to explain that he was already wet, so...
Margot looked back up at him with surpise, appearing taken aback and not really sure at first of how to respond. "Uh...."
Then he took it back-- apologized because it didn't work. She stared for a moment, then chuckled and held out her hand for him to start working.
"What, Magick? I Awoke last June. But I kind of... wandered a bit after that. It was only this January that I really started to understand what's going on and what I can do." A pause, then a correction: "What we all can do."
WilliamWhat we all can do.
"The human will is capable of many a great and terrible thing when we figure out that we're not bound by-" he waves around him for a second before going back to the actual bandaging. He isnt' cavalier with this. Is actually taking his time and focusing because he wants to make sure tha tthis is done right and things are disinfected and that she doesn't get pond water in an open wound. It's a quick way to get a staph infection, that.
"Did you just kind of figure it out on your own?" William asks, he's curious, but moreover he seems impressed.
Margot"In bits and pieces, at first." He seemed impressed, and to begin Margot fed into that. She would watch his face when he spoke, and usually would switch back to watching the bandage work intermittently. She looked a bit self-pleased, because if Margot was anything she was smart, and she liked being praised by her teachers growing up and getting top marks and being recognized for that thing she was great at. After Awakening, though, the praise from a professor just didn't quite have the same ring to it. Acadamia wasn't nearly as important, relevant, or powerful as Magick.
But, she was balanced by being self-conscious. All too aware of her own shortcomings and failures, any ego she began to build was often quickly deflated. As it was now when she confessed:
"But I didn't get far. I didn't really understand what I was doing, nor did I do it often, and though I read a lot on the matter I didn't really test anything. I was afraid, still am kind of, of being discovered. Persecuted. You know, witch burnings and all.
"In January I met Ned Gaines and Dr. Andrés Sepúlveda. Ned was in exactly the same boat I was-- Awakened and lost. Then we found Doc, and he's real experienced, he can heal and make things appear out of thin air. He's explained things to us, continues to explain things to us as we keep going on forward, but we're pretty much structuring all of this ourselves as we go along.
"They're not Witches. Doc's a Scientist. Ned's a Worker, or a Crafter, maybe. I'm a Witch for sure."
MargotThen, added on more definitively, she concluded: "No, Ned's a Wielder."
William"Ned's a welder?"
Clearly, the fall on his ass hurt his hearing.
Margot"Wielder," she was prompt to correct, and he'd be damned if she didn't sound the tiniest bit like a know-it-all when correcting.
"Or a Brandisher. He'd probably call himself a Solver, since he looks at things like a puzzle, but I think he's going to use Magick with a force."
Not the magic Forces, that's different.
WilliamIt's leviosa not leviosa, he hears when she corrects him- because it does make a difference because welding and wielding are not the same things.
"Being a brandisher would be that he whips it out for certain occasions, is flamboyant with it- he doesn't strike me as the flourishing type from the few things you've said about him," a pause, a thought, "he could be a strider, one who moves with purpose in a specified direction, but I don't know about goals there.
"So, what is being a witch to you? The difference between a witch and a supplicant to the older ways," William finally finishes the bandaging, looks at it dubiously before looking at his own hand, clenches his fist for a second before letting it go, "doesn't look bad," he says to himself.
Purposeful, you see, because he could take care of that problem for himself really quickly.
MargotWith that particular spin put on the word Brandisher, Margot screwed up her face in response to the thought of Ned and flamboyance going together in the same sentence, then shook her head. "Not a Brandisher, then," she agreed.
But what about her, why was she a Witch? The girl took her hand back and checked the bandage job, not with a lot of scrutiny but rather to see if there were seams she should be careful of, ways that she probably shouldn't bend her hand if she wanted it to last longer. As she performed this check she answered musingly.
"It's in the Craft. I think how you go about doing your Magick is what brings you to your label-- part of it anyways, I should clarify. How you percieve it and believe it works of course plays into it." The dismissive wave of her hand sent that technicality away so she could continue her point.
"For me, my Avatar is an old Goddess of War. She wouldn't care about Science, and this manifestation, what I see and feel, it's too rudimentary and old for much... flourish. My magic just feels old and raw and so it's best suited for and channeled through things like blood rites, rituals with bones and ash by flame, and who knows what else the more I learn."
Her eyes hopped from her hand to his; he was flexing it and claiming it wasn't so bad.
"Do you want me to cover it anyway?" Hey, she did say she'd return the favor.
William"So, your magick isn't in her worship, it's in the act of doing as she would do. In living and being and breathing the way instead of being the moving piece in an Other's bidding?" he asks, not with scrutiny, but more like he was musing. More like he was thinking about the concept and the prospect of how magick is and what it makes you.
Holds his hand out, "reciprocity and symmetry are important, I'd love the help."
Back to thinking.
"I don't know what I am, then. Hermetics tend to get pegged with wizardry but I sure as shit am not Harry Potter or Gandalf."
Margot"Exactly," she said, somewhat astonished in answer to the understanding he'd tried for of how her magick worked. "I've been trying to explain it, and I think that's it. I'm not worshipping her, I'm more of an extension of her. I don't ask her for power, she has already given it to me and isn't taking it back."
She made it sound like she'd tried giving it back. Maybe that was unintentional-- who tried to go back to Sleep?
With his hand extended in turn, Margot set it knuckles-down on one of her knees (bigger work surface than it floating in the air or her trying to steady it herself) and took to cleaning before wrapping.
"You don't strike me as much of a wizard either, no magic words or wands or Familiars." She paused her work to look back up at his face; really look, study actually. Like she could find the answer in the plane of his forehead or breadth of his nose bridge.
"You feel like a boat in a storm out at sea when you work, but the boat doesn't capsize. Maybe you're a Discoverer? Like of new lands, except the new lands are actually just a metaphor for Existence."
William"Ah, be still my heart, it's like she knows me," he says, as though this is the best agreement he could muster that he did, in fact, agree with her assertion. That maybe he is one who Discovers. Maybe he is some kind of explorer, for good or ill seeking things one was never meant to know.
He's seen some shit. Hasn't broken his grasp with reality in such a fashion that others have noticed. Maybe he'd outgrown it with the nightmares (lies, all lies. He is tied to something older than old, formless because its form is broken. He doesn't break because he knows Things, even if he hasn't remembered them.)
"I'm keeping that, I think I like Discoverer."
MargotThe wide-eyed little witch smiled, and for once in a great while there wasn't a drop of worry or anxiety to be found tightening the expression. The bandage was clipped and tied neatly into place (she wasn't an expert, but she'd done this recently and watched any number of other bandages be tied up by more skilled hands than her own-- smart girls like her picked up on things), and she bounced her knee a little to indicate his hand was his own again.
"I'm glad, I thought it was a little inspired of me."
With the kit all packed up again, Margot stood up once more. Looked to William and shouldered her pack. "Come on, I'll bet we can find dry clothes and lunch for cheap back in Boulder.
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