[It was awfully nice of Max to say that, even though it probably was the magician's equivalent of tying your shoes. Still, that was pretty fantastic the first time you managed it, too . . .]
[Fair enough. Max takes another long swig and sets it back down.]
Mmmmmm, blood is... it's life, it's energy. Spilling my own blood gives a hell of a boost to my magic. I wouldn't use it normally but... [He shrugs like it's no big deal to have cut open his own hand for the sake of magic practice.]
Thread is just what I use as a focus. It's how I See magic.
Mmmm, it can be. It's complex and there's a lot of different kinds, different ways of using it.
Mmmm, usually, yeah. I... I See spells as threads, as weaving, like nets or webs. I've heard of people hearing it as music, or words slotting together. For me, it's thread.
I don't know. You don't need to See it to be able to use it. It helps, but it isn't essential. It's a relatively common skill in my family but considering our heritage, it's not really surprising.
[It's really difficult to even try to remain serious when Jack is giggling like that. Max shoves one of the bottles into Jack's waiting hand and finishes off the last dregs of his own.]
Well, I'm the devilishly handsome one with supernatural powers. People are supposed to dig that, right?
And the hot springs was the first time in like... two years.
Prick. [He says it with all due affection, ruffling Jack's hair in revenge.]
[Jack takes the ruffling with a sort of drunken good grace - which is to say with just a bit of squirming and an intrigued, enthused hoot.]
The hot springs? [He has a hasty gulp and leans closer, grin almost painfully wide.] Don't stop there! Out with the salacious details already. Who's the lucky girl or boy?
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[He knocks back his own vodka too, setting it down onto the table. He's a little fuzzy headed by now, but it's a pleasant sort of feeling.]
I've heard she's fairly friendly, yeah.
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Mm. Do you deal with a lot of spirits?
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Like this one? Sometimes. Mainly I deal with human spirits, ghosts. Ones that have got stuck.
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[Grinning agreeably, Jack sinks down further on the couch, toeing off his shoes.]
What sort of work is that?
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[A rotting soul is easy prey.]
I'm an exorcist. England has a lot of ghosts. Sometimes they're benign, often, they aren't. They can cause problems. They can get dangerous.
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[He doesn't sound like he's taking the whole thing seriously, but that's just the drunken singsong. He believes Max without question.]
How exactly does one exorcise a spirit?
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[He reaches over to grab one of the bottles, dispensing with glasses altogether as he sips from it.]
Circle to contain them is pretty standard. For me, it's fairly easy to lure them in. Thread to trap them. Then fire to burn the thread.
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And burning your trap doesn't just . . . let them back out?
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It's... difficult to explain. I use a spell to send them on. Burning the thread just completes it. It dispels the energy.
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Ah - no thanks - and I suppose the blood and the fancy weaving all have important roles too?
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Mmmmmm, blood is... it's life, it's energy. Spilling my own blood gives a hell of a boost to my magic. I wouldn't use it normally but... [He shrugs like it's no big deal to have cut open his own hand for the sake of magic practice.]
Thread is just what I use as a focus. It's how I See magic.
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[No wonder you can spend years at Oxford just studying the history of this stuff. Jack scratches at his jaw, looking at the string curiously.]
Does everyone see it differently?
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Mmmm, usually, yeah. I... I See spells as threads, as weaving, like nets or webs. I've heard of people hearing it as music, or words slotting together. For me, it's thread.
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[He pauses just a moment, then practically giggles at his own words. Best not to embark on speculation regarding Max's bits.]
Erm- sorry, I mean- bloodline.
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Riiight. Sure you did.
I can't believe you're the one of us getting laid regularly.
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[He barely holds onto indignance before he's giggling again, reaching out for a bottle to have another sip.]
Besides that I have the devil's own luck.
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Well, I'm the devilishly handsome one with supernatural powers. People are supposed to dig that, right?
And the hot springs was the first time in like... two years.
Prick. [He says it with all due affection, ruffling Jack's hair in revenge.]
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The hot springs? [He has a hasty gulp and leans closer, grin almost painfully wide.] Don't stop there! Out with the salacious details already. Who's the lucky girl or boy?
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I swear Jack, if you breathe a word of this to anyone I will make your life hell.
[He sits back on the couch looking a touch awkward.]
Helios.
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[Jack doesn't know if he's more amazed or just all the way into disbelief yet, and through it all he stays teetering on the verge of laugher.]
Not- not the god, but the actual- here, in Luceti- with the dragons. That Heios?
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No, some other Helios who was around the hot springs last week.
Of course that Helios.
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[A stray giggle escapes him, and he drowns it in another swig, looking at Max admiringly.]
Honestly, not bad. Malnosso-induced, or should I expect to see him guiltily slinking out of the community house door at odd hours now?
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One time only deal. And there would be no guilty slinking. I'd totally make him breakfast.
[He gives Jack an incredulous look.]
Not bad? Not bad? The man is gorgeous.
[And a whole bunch of other adjectives he cannot use without sounding like a lovesick fool.]
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