[A few centuries. All that time to learn more, to accumulate more power. He wonders just how different in many things this Berna is to Amelia.
In between two flowering shrubs, he leads her to another spider on its web. This one's big, black and bright yellow. And this time, he actually reaches out for it, casually extending a hand and nudging it into awareness with a finger. Gently.
It seems Henry doesn't have many issues handling spiders, either, if that's his intent.]
And she wasn't? Human, I mean.
[Yes, he notes the way she talks about her past today, even in a roundabout manner. That's good, right? Some manner of progress. Maybe he can ask a little more later.]
She was the first to offer her hand in friendship. I wasn't as amenable at the time. If anything, I was stubborn about being left alone.
[She keeps her attention on the spider even sketching out Henry's hand it's sitting on.]
Well. I suppose it would be interesting if you met her. But I can warn you ahead of time that she's consistent when categorizing the people she meets into two groups: Like and dislike.
[It goes unsaid which group Henry doesn't want to be in. At his latter question the pencil pauses. But she nods again.]
I am.
[And she leaves it at that. Gotta draw that last leg for the spider after all.]
[He just needs to figure out how to ask. Diving straight into her head last time didn't help; in that way, he was being insidious. Sneaky, when he shouldn't have. Is straightforwardness the route to take this time?
He wonders. Then he rolls the dice.]
So... Can I ask why do you think that is? That man I saw in your memories, he chose you, didn't he?
[She finishes her sketch and the pause that follows is drawn out. A small breath escapes her as she hugs the sketchbook against her chest. Reluctant.
Adam was the one who told her that it helps to speak of her past with detachment but not necessarily with apathy; she shouldn't invalidate her own pain.
Henry is lucky in his rolling of the metaphorical dice. It also helps that after silently mending the gap during their trip beneath Blue Moon Lake, Amelia feels a lot more willing to speak truthfully or at least frankly.
She said it herself; it didn't have to be a challenge.]
[He supposes the risk was worth taking. An answer comes, though it's a brief one. He has to strain to read between the lines, but it's given freely and that's... something.
He tracks her gaze over to the red roses, bright in the sun, still cupping the spider close.]
Just at random? [Or rather, a pet project? A kidnapping. Well, he's been there before, too.] To see what a human witch could do?
To clarify, it was a gradual kidnapping. And yes, it was random. It didn't have to be me.
[Slowly, slowly, she was drawn away from her family and her potential life as a natural human. So enchanted she was with her new ability to create phenomena that she didn't notice that her mother and father started to forget; her existence to them became transient.]
The Witch King is a creature of impulse and curiosity. He gives himself a premise and runs with it regardless of who is affected at the other end.
[The bitterness in her voice sneaks in. It's also getting warmer so she starts moving to the shade of one of the trees.]
[He can hear that bitterness creeping in like a shadow. No doubt she felt like her life was toyed with and the potential of being normal thrown away like it were an afterthought; but moreover, she was an experiment. Much like he was, in a way.
He doesn't respond at first. A cloud shuffles its way out of the sun above, and the rays are warmer as the time drags forward. It's a little uncomfortable for Henry, so he turns to gently ease the spider back onto its web.]
Like all of those who meddle with things they shouldn't, eventually, he may come to regret it. [Still, that man with the bright red hair... He must be very powerful, indeed.] What is he?
[Amelia waves her hand so that the shade of the tree stretches and extends to cover them both. She casts magic so flippantly sometimes.]
He just told me to figure it out myself. This was basically his instructional style during my time with him; throw me into the middle of a problem and figure it out from there.
[And sometimes she barely, just barely survived those situations.]
From what I've gathered... He may be the reason why witches and magic exist at all.
[That’s a curious thought, isn’t it. Disturbing, too, though Henry does find it more fascinating than not.
Still, somehow, this manages to drag a bit of empathy out of him — so small that it does not sound in his tone, but rather, the manner of things he says.
(Also, thanks for the shade.)]
So then he did train you. But it sounds like it was all trial by fire.
My… [Papa. No.] The director of the lab I lived in and your Witch King might have gotten along, you know. Sometimes it felt that way to me, too.
And there was no getting out of that arrangement, no matter what I wanted.
Edited (Icon… and wording lol) 2023-06-30 23:54 (UTC)
[Amelia glances over at Henry. She hadn't asked about his time in the laboratory; it was a self-imposed action. Yes, she was curious but no, it wasn't the right time, it may never have been. Don't poke, don't push, don't bother. At the very beginning, she didn't think it would come to this point where they were sharing things about themselves.
Life takes very odd turns.]
Well... His thought process is bizarre. Depending on the conditions of that laboratory you may very well be right.
[Amelia shrugs and offers Henry's sketchbook and pencil back to him.]
... Or he would decide to do something else entirely based on a standard he would make up on the spot.
[Life is full of more surprises than Henry sometimes gives it credit for, rearing their heads in the small moments, the ones where he does not even recognize them as significant. But it is. She gives a little, and he gives in turn. This is more than what he usually bothers to offer anyone at all.]
They weren't very good conditions, let's just say.
[For him. For the children after him. The people who ran HNL pretended at kindness but in the end, they were all just tools. A means to an end.]
The less of him, the better. Forty years as his student was more than enough.
[Henry's thought gets a headshake from Amelia.]
If you think about it there's a danger of speaking it into life. All I know for sure is he tends to know what my activities are and he'll find a way to belittle me.
[The Witch King finds her solo antics amusing. She just wants to live her life without his shadow hovering over her constantly.]
[And now he looks up at her again, smiling Innocently (TM).]
Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. It’s just… He was formative for you, whether or not the circumstances were ideal. I’m curious about what kind of tutor you had; if it was anything like how I was taught how to use my powers.
[She crosses her arms at him but her voice is gentle if somewhat grave.]
I don't know what happened to you in that laboratory. And... I don't think I could really talk about the decades I spent with him to compare and the aftermath of it all once he was tired of me. It's a difficult thing to explain.
[There's a gap between her learning under the Witch King and the person she is now. Something, no, someone far more significant and painful.]
But before you misunderstand, thank you. For asking me directly about my circumstances that is.
[He listens, hearing clearly what’s being said: it’s still too vulnerable to speak too casually on. It’s “difficult”, which means there are critical pieces of the story he’s missing.]
I won’t lie and say I’m not curious. But I’m not going to force you to talk about it either — that’s just about as bad as me digging around in your head.
[And he does mean that. Even if he puts on a show with this politeness he majority of the time, he knows there’s no benefit to repeating past mistakes. Not with her.
Her thanks, though… It’s strange. Gratitude for him being considerate? What does he do with that?]
…You’re welcome. But mostly, it’s just because I learned my lesson. And I’m glad I did.
[He turns the sketchbook over, to tap at the last spider she drew.]
I wouldn’t have gotten this one otherwise. It’s my favorite of the ones you did, I think.
[Oh? Henry tilts his head as though that might reveal whatever expression she’s making — it doesn’t, of course, but he can imagine she appreciates the compliment.
Good to know.]
I don’t see why not. A scorpion with oven mitts and an apron.
[She rolls her eyes at his jest and starts making her way back to the house.]
You know, I definitely have a spell or two in my repertoire to make sure that the heat doesn't bother you too much. I'll just re-review it before I try anything.
[Amelia's about to open the back door that leads to the kitchen but stops when on the pipe she spots a spider web, though it's semi-damaged and barely hanging on. There's also no spider.]
Oh. I think we missed one. [She glances around.] Has it gone off somewhere?
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
cw; spider photo
In between two flowering shrubs, he leads her to another spider on its web. This one's big, black and bright yellow. And this time, he actually reaches out for it, casually extending a hand and nudging it into awareness with a finger. Gently.
It seems Henry doesn't have many issues handling spiders, either, if that's his intent.]
And she wasn't? Human, I mean.
[Yes, he notes the way she talks about her past today, even in a roundabout manner. That's good, right? Some manner of progress. Maybe he can ask a little more later.]
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[She watches as Henry beckons the spider to his hand and looks down at the sketchbook to start sketching.]
Berna's one of the longest-lived I've ever met. She's seen a lot as you can imagine. I was surprised I managed to befriend her.
no subject
[He turns, cupping the calm spider in his hand, held out for her to get a better look at while she draws.]
Maybe I can meet her someday. But... this means you're a unique case, right?
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She was the first to offer her hand in friendship. I wasn't as amenable at the time. If anything, I was stubborn about being left alone.
[She keeps her attention on the spider even sketching out Henry's hand it's sitting on.]
Well. I suppose it would be interesting if you met her. But I can warn you ahead of time that she's consistent when categorizing the people she meets into two groups: Like and dislike.
[It goes unsaid which group Henry doesn't want to be in. At his latter question the pencil pauses. But she nods again.]
I am.
[And she leaves it at that. Gotta draw that last leg for the spider after all.]
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But it's still an opening.]
I see.
[He just needs to figure out how to ask. Diving straight into her head last time didn't help; in that way, he was being insidious. Sneaky, when he shouldn't have. Is straightforwardness the route to take this time?
He wonders. Then he rolls the dice.]
So... Can I ask why do you think that is? That man I saw in your memories, he chose you, didn't he?
Henry rolled a nat 20...
Adam was the one who told her that it helps to speak of her past with detachment but not necessarily with apathy; she shouldn't invalidate her own pain.
Henry is lucky in his rolling of the metaphorical dice. It also helps that after silently mending the gap during their trip beneath Blue Moon Lake, Amelia feels a lot more willing to speak truthfully or at least frankly.
She said it herself; it didn't have to be a challenge.]
You could say I was chosen.
[She turns her gaze to her red roses.]
It was a kidnapping.
the irony of that is too real
He tracks her gaze over to the red roses, bright in the sun, still cupping the spider close.]
Just at random? [Or rather, a pet project? A kidnapping. Well, he's been there before, too.] To see what a human witch could do?
no subject
[Slowly, slowly, she was drawn away from her family and her potential life as a natural human. So enchanted she was with her new ability to create phenomena that she didn't notice that her mother and father started to forget; her existence to them became transient.]
The Witch King is a creature of impulse and curiosity. He gives himself a premise and runs with it regardless of who is affected at the other end.
[The bitterness in her voice sneaks in. It's also getting warmer so she starts moving to the shade of one of the trees.]
no subject
He doesn't respond at first. A cloud shuffles its way out of the sun above, and the rays are warmer as the time drags forward. It's a little uncomfortable for Henry, so he turns to gently ease the spider back onto its web.]
Like all of those who meddle with things they shouldn't, eventually, he may come to regret it. [Still, that man with the bright red hair... He must be very powerful, indeed.] What is he?
no subject
[Amelia waves her hand so that the shade of the tree stretches and extends to cover them both. She casts magic so flippantly sometimes.]
He just told me to figure it out myself. This was basically his instructional style during my time with him; throw me into the middle of a problem and figure it out from there.
[And sometimes she barely, just barely survived those situations.]
From what I've gathered... He may be the reason why witches and magic exist at all.
no subject
Still, somehow, this manages to drag a bit of empathy out of him — so small that it does not sound in his tone, but rather, the manner of things he says.
(Also, thanks for the shade.)]
So then he did train you. But it sounds like it was all trial by fire.
My… [Papa. No.] The director of the lab I lived in and your Witch King might have gotten along, you know. Sometimes it felt that way to me, too.
And there was no getting out of that arrangement, no matter what I wanted.
no subject
Life takes very odd turns.]
Well... His thought process is bizarre. Depending on the conditions of that laboratory you may very well be right.
[Amelia shrugs and offers Henry's sketchbook and pencil back to him.]
... Or he would decide to do something else entirely based on a standard he would make up on the spot.
no subject
They weren't very good conditions, let's just say.
[For him. For the children after him. The people who ran HNL pretended at kindness but in the end, they were all just tools. A means to an end.]
Do you still... keep in touch with him?
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If I'm truly desperate? Yes. But it's easier if I solve problems myself rather than ask him for anything.
[The Witch King kind of gives her more puzzles for her to wrap her head around than help! Direct helpfulness is so uncommon from him.]
He comes and goes as he pleases so there's no way to predict if he'll be here, there, or anywhere.
[Then Amelia points in the distance at some crows hanging about on the trees opposite of them.]
The crows help me send messages to him if I resort to it.
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I imagine you wouldn't want anything to do with him.
[But he also imagines she doesn't have a choice.]
Wonder if I'll get a chance to meet him in the flesh someday.
[Now, he takes back his sketchbook and pencil, idly looking over Amelia's work.]
no subject
[Henry's thought gets a headshake from Amelia.]
If you think about it there's a danger of speaking it into life. All I know for sure is he tends to know what my activities are and he'll find a way to belittle me.
[The Witch King finds her solo antics amusing. She just wants to live her life without his shadow hovering over her constantly.]
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Does that include knowing you're harboring a man from another world in your home? I'd at least expect a hello.
[Yes, he will manifest this reality.]
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[Amelia is making a face at Henry's expectations regarding the Witch King. She seriously does not want her teacher around.]
I am not inviting him directly. If he turns up so be it, if not, that's that.
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Of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. It’s just… He was formative for you, whether or not the circumstances were ideal. I’m curious about what kind of tutor you had; if it was anything like how I was taught how to use my powers.
no subject
[She crosses her arms at him but her voice is gentle if somewhat grave.]
I don't know what happened to you in that laboratory. And... I don't think I could really talk about the decades I spent with him to compare and the aftermath of it all once he was tired of me. It's a difficult thing to explain.
[There's a gap between her learning under the Witch King and the person she is now. Something, no, someone far more significant and painful.]
But before you misunderstand, thank you. For asking me directly about my circumstances that is.
no subject
I won’t lie and say I’m not curious. But I’m not going to force you to talk about it either — that’s just about as bad as me digging around in your head.
[And he does mean that. Even if he puts on a show with this politeness he majority of the time, he knows there’s no benefit to repeating past mistakes. Not with her.
Her thanks, though… It’s strange. Gratitude for him being considerate? What does he do with that?]
…You’re welcome. But mostly, it’s just because I learned my lesson. And I’m glad I did.
[He turns the sketchbook over, to tap at the last spider she drew.]
I wouldn’t have gotten this one otherwise. It’s my favorite of the ones you did, I think.
no subject
If I keep drawing with you maybe you'll get something better than that. Hopefully.
[... Things to look forward to. Someone to do them with. This was not something the Witch King could have ever taught her.
As soon as she's absolutely sure that her expression is neutral again she looks up at Henry and gestures one shoulder back to the house.]
It's getting warmer now so let's get that late breakfast underway, shall we?
no subject
Good to know.]
I don’t see why not. A scorpion with oven mitts and an apron.
[He jokes.]
Breakfast sounds good. Let’s get out of this sun.
no subject
You know, I definitely have a spell or two in my repertoire to make sure that the heat doesn't bother you too much. I'll just re-review it before I try anything.
[Amelia's about to open the back door that leads to the kitchen but stops when on the pipe she spots a spider web, though it's semi-damaged and barely hanging on. There's also no spider.]
Oh. I think we missed one. [She glances around.] Has it gone off somewhere?
no subject
[Be taken with him back home, SO KIDS DON'T SET HIM ON FIRE ANYMORE--
The thought is severed when he notes the same pipe with the same torn spider web. No spider. His brows pinch together.]
Leaving its web like that? Something could have happened. It's not windy enough for the weather to have done it on its own.
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