I think arachnophobia is silly. [Well, of course he does.] I think they're creatures to be admired. More so than most humans.
[Ah, his misantrhopy is showing. But that's cut short, too, when Amelia finds the spider and he moves over closer to inspect it. Beneath the rose plant, a black spider is clinging to the plant's stem. Immediately, he can see that this is the look of one who was swept up by a bird and dropped soon after.
Henry frowns.]
Its legs are broken. It'll be hard for it to... [Well, survive, really. Like this. He frowns.] The most we can do is bring it back to its web for now.
[He's psychic, but he's not the healing kind of psychic.]
[ now we don't have time to unpack all of that dot gif
Amelia doesn't reply to Henry right away. They could proceed as he says and let nature do it's natural thing. It would be inconsequential whether it would live or not. There will be others after it.
("I think it's okay," said her dearest with a smile, "To do something to make someone else happy no matter how small it is.")
The witch moves closer to the roses.]
Let me try something.
[And unexpectedly, she reaches out with her outstretched palm to provide the limping spider a platform. It jerks back at first but she remains still enough that the spider cautiously pulls itself into her hand.]
[He watches as she eases the spider onto her palm with care enough so the arachnid doesn’t move away. Henry has no choice, really, but to see what she’ll do.]
[Amelia smiles even though she doesn't take her eyes off the spider in her palm. She draws it closer to her chest with a clandestine expression.]
Why not a bit of magic?
[This magic isn't one of healing. This magic is one of adding and changing to make something a little bit more out of this small living creature.
The air around Amelia changes. Her aura is buzzing softly as she uses her free hand to pluck a strand of her hair from her head. The strand glints in the sunlight and it snakes around the witch's palm. As if sensing this arcane process the injured spider stays still as the magical thread encircles its legs, its body, it's whole being.
Amelia doesn't need incantations to cast her spells but there is power in words. And so the words she speaks into life seals the spider's new fate.]
[It doesn't even look like a spider anymore as it glows like a colorful orb; red from hair and the green of her magic. Amelia is self-hypnotized by this ritual; the green in her eyes is shining.
Pure magic, pure phenomena, nothing more, nothing less.]
[He can't hope to guess what's happening; her magic is beyond him on a good day, and now? This is a display that proves, he thinks, the power and whimsy of her magic combined.
So all he can do is watch as the spider is enveloped in the orb, red from her hair and shimmering from the emerald of her magic. Amelia's eyes shine a hue that matches, incredibly bright.
He murmurs, a bit hypnotized from the process, too. A bit unsure as to what that incantation is supposed to mean for the little arachnid encased in magic-]
[The magical energy dies down and in her palm, the spider stops glowing. It's black again and all of its three damaged legs are repaired. The sunlight reveals a more iridescent green and gold sheen on its surface. The small creature dances in circles around Amelia's palm as if in celebration.
The witch turns to Henry, uncharacteristically grinning.]
I made it a little stronger that's all. Oh, and gave it some new legs.
[She uses both of her hands to cup the spider carefully and brings it over to Henry.]
[Oh. She’s healed it. She’s made it more than it was. He can see the life and excitement thrumming from it — and she’s smiling wide, in a way that he’s seen so rarely from her.
He doesn’t know what to do for a moment, other than hold out his palm and wait for the spider to skitter back to it. Henry doesn’t answer her question at first; there’s the distinct feeling that he’s just… confused, briefly.]
Why…?
[Why did she do it? He cannot know the reasoning, because she surely does not go about healing all the small, hurt things in her gardens.]
[The spider moves to Henry's palm and it waits patiently to be moved back to it's spot instead of crawling anywhere else. Amelia opens her mouth to answer him but closes it again when she hears the confusion in his voice.
Odd how the explanation sounded simple in her head but she's lost the words all of a sudden.]
Well. I thought it'd be something you like?
[She tries again and instead of overthinking it just says it.]
I wanted to do something that would make you feel happy.
[It's such a simple explanation, but it feels like being handed a too-many-faceted sentiment, and Henry doesn't know how to hold it. How to really process it. Kindness simply for the sake of it is not something he particularly cares to attribute or acknowledge about humanity in general.
Much less when it's directed at him.]
Happy...?
[So very foreign.]
This...
[Quietly, he turns and moves to return the spider back to its web, looking down at it the whole while.]
... I should hope so. I have to keep everyone, not just you on their toes.
[Kindness for the sake of it is something that Amelia ironically learned from someone inhuman, someone who was able to draw out that inherent quality in her. She would be the first to admit that she was selfish and closed off, more willing to care about herself than others. With power such as hers, didn't she have the right? Didn't she have the privilege to lord herself above all other humans?
No, she would say. That isn't happiness. It was not about being greater, not when she had felt so tiny and helpless in her circumstances and not when her heart was so cut up.
(The world is such a dark place, but Briar loved it so.)
There was nothing wrong with doing something small to make someone else's day a little better, a little brighter.
Amelia says nothing as Henry returns the spider back to its web. The small creature, recognizing its home skitters back, delicately clinging to the thin threads. She's running her fingers through her hair as she watches it settle back in.]
It'll last longer. The spider and any webs it makes I mean.
[Said spider is actually starting to repair the damaged area of its web. The webbing it produces shimmers ever so slightly in the sun. Amelia mumbles the last part of her explanation as if suddenly shy about how much effort she put into the magic.]
My hair has a lot of magic so... The webs it makes should be better...
[Amelia has grown so much more as a person than Henry. Henry, who is always so angry at the world, who feels like he was dealt an unfair hand, who feels he fits in so badly with the rest of society that something else must be wrong with it, not him. Never him. His parents were wrong about him, just another pair of of individuals acting out their role in a silly, terrible play.
Little gestures like this, little kindnesses for the sake of it—when they aren’t used to tell lies, or manipulate—are little facets of proof going against the grain. He should reject them, but Amelia’s propensity to use her power to aid something he holds close to his heart, spiders, makes that difficult to do.
He swallows, his throat bobbing up and down. The spider shines; it already tries to make a new web with more vigor than he’s seen most spiders possess. Finally, Henry looks at Amelia.]
Thank you.
[Really, that’s all he can manage for now. All he can say in regards to processing this action. But— Well. It’s sincere, a rarity from him. She really did put some effort into this little gesture for him, didn’t she?
Her hair…]
Your hair… Is it that useful?
[Without thinking, he just reaches out to… touch a lock of her hair, curious. Either oblivious or unremarking to her shyness.]
[Ah. Amelia is a bit too blindsided by Henry's action to react normally such as pulling or swatting him away from touching her hair. She replies rapidly only taking a step back to create a semblance of polite distance.]
It's... I have a lot of excess energy. It has to circulate somewhere and I'm a witch with long hair so naturally, that's where I channel it.
I think you might be able to feel it since it's only notable up... close.
[The lock he has between his fingertips gives off a very low signature and a distinct hum. In day-to-day life, Amelia manages to make her hair appear normal and its gloss and color are natural. The magic that flows through the innumerable strands would not be as distinct until she decides to use it.
Amelia will just glance the other way, thanks. That much should satisfy his curiosity right?]
[This is one such moment where Henry doesn't realize how awkward of a gesture it could be, how it might be considered an invasion of personal space — congratulations Amelia, you’ve officially made it into his category of “people he’ll reach out and touch without warning out of little more than fascination.”
Ymmv regarding whether this is a good thing or otherwise.
But for now, he just looks at its hue gleaming in the sun. So much excess magic that it literally has to be stored in her hair…]
I think I can— Feel it.
[Between forefinger and thumb, the lock of hair thrums faintly against his touch. After a moment, he finally lets it fall away, looking at the lines of her profile.]
There wasn't really a reason to bring attention to it before.
[Let the record show that Amelia Eva Steinbeck has once again stumbled into something that she should recognize as a flag of sorts. And once again she is absolutely not aware of it at all.
She turns to look at him again and she's hidden her hands in her hoodie pouch just so the finger fiddling is not as noticeable.]
So! Breakfast. Late breakfast? Let's have some.
Edited (why do i always have an extra spaced line gd) 2023-07-04 00:23 (UTC)
[It’s a slow and subtle process, Henry’s focus returning inward, self-aware enough to straighten and reset his demeanor into its usual peaceable standard. But it does. He even has enough grace not to mention the obvious way her fingers twitch inside her hoodie pocket.
The smile returns, small and faint.]
Well, now I know. More of your mystery is unraveling by the day.
[…again, for good or ill.]
I had forgotten all about breakfast. Yes, let’s eat.
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
no subject
[Ah, his misantrhopy is showing. But that's cut short, too, when Amelia finds the spider and he moves over closer to inspect it. Beneath the rose plant, a black spider is clinging to the plant's stem. Immediately, he can see that this is the look of one who was swept up by a bird and dropped soon after.
Henry frowns.]
Its legs are broken. It'll be hard for it to... [Well, survive, really. Like this. He frowns.] The most we can do is bring it back to its web for now.
[He's psychic, but he's not the healing kind of psychic.]
no subject
Amelia doesn't reply to Henry right away. They could proceed as he says and let nature do it's natural thing. It would be inconsequential whether it would live or not. There will be others after it.
("I think it's okay," said her dearest with a smile, "To do something to make someone else happy no matter how small it is.")
The witch moves closer to the roses.]
Let me try something.
[And unexpectedly, she reaches out with her outstretched palm to provide the limping spider a platform. It jerks back at first but she remains still enough that the spider cautiously pulls itself into her hand.]
no subject
…Try what?
no subject
[Amelia smiles even though she doesn't take her eyes off the spider in her palm. She draws it closer to her chest with a clandestine expression.]
Why not a bit of magic?
[This magic isn't one of healing. This magic is one of adding and changing to make something a little bit more out of this small living creature.
The air around Amelia changes. Her aura is buzzing softly as she uses her free hand to pluck a strand of her hair from her head. The strand glints in the sunlight and it snakes around the witch's palm. As if sensing this arcane process the injured spider stays still as the magical thread encircles its legs, its body, it's whole being.
Amelia doesn't need incantations to cast her spells but there is power in words. And so the words she speaks into life seals the spider's new fate.]
ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ, ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʟʟ,
ɪɴ ᴍʏ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜰᴀʟʟ
ꜱᴏ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴇᴅ ɢᴜᴇꜱᴛ
ɪ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪꜰᴇ
ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴇꜱꜱ.
[It doesn't even look like a spider anymore as it glows like a colorful orb; red from hair and the green of her magic. Amelia is self-hypnotized by this ritual; the green in her eyes is shining.
Pure magic, pure phenomena, nothing more, nothing less.]
no subject
So all he can do is watch as the spider is enveloped in the orb, red from her hair and shimmering from the emerald of her magic. Amelia's eyes shine a hue that matches, incredibly bright.
He murmurs, a bit hypnotized from the process, too. A bit unsure as to what that incantation is supposed to mean for the little arachnid encased in magic-]
What are you doing...?
no subject
The witch turns to Henry, uncharacteristically grinning.]
I made it a little stronger that's all. Oh, and gave it some new legs.
[She uses both of her hands to cup the spider carefully and brings it over to Henry.]
Want to put it back on its web?
no subject
He doesn’t know what to do for a moment, other than hold out his palm and wait for the spider to skitter back to it. Henry doesn’t answer her question at first; there’s the distinct feeling that he’s just… confused, briefly.]
Why…?
[Why did she do it? He cannot know the reasoning, because she surely does not go about healing all the small, hurt things in her gardens.]
no subject
Odd how the explanation sounded simple in her head but she's lost the words all of a sudden.]
Well. I thought it'd be something you like?
[She tries again and instead of overthinking it just says it.]
I wanted to do something that would make you feel happy.
no subject
Much less when it's directed at him.]
Happy...?
[So very foreign.]
This...
[Quietly, he turns and moves to return the spider back to its web, looking down at it the whole while.]
You'll full of surprises, Amelia.
no subject
[Kindness for the sake of it is something that Amelia ironically learned from someone inhuman, someone who was able to draw out that inherent quality in her. She would be the first to admit that she was selfish and closed off, more willing to care about herself than others. With power such as hers, didn't she have the right? Didn't she have the privilege to lord herself above all other humans?
No, she would say. That isn't happiness. It was not about being greater, not when she had felt so tiny and helpless in her circumstances and not when her heart was so cut up.
(The world is such a dark place, but Briar loved it so.)
There was nothing wrong with doing something small to make someone else's day a little better, a little brighter.
Amelia says nothing as Henry returns the spider back to its web. The small creature, recognizing its home skitters back, delicately clinging to the thin threads. She's running her fingers through her hair as she watches it settle back in.]
It'll last longer. The spider and any webs it makes I mean.
[Said spider is actually starting to repair the damaged area of its web. The webbing it produces shimmers ever so slightly in the sun. Amelia mumbles the last part of her explanation as if suddenly shy about how much effort she put into the magic.]
My hair has a lot of magic so... The webs it makes should be better...
no subject
Little gestures like this, little kindnesses for the sake of it—when they aren’t used to tell lies, or manipulate—are little facets of proof going against the grain. He should reject them, but Amelia’s propensity to use her power to aid something he holds close to his heart, spiders, makes that difficult to do.
He swallows, his throat bobbing up and down. The spider shines; it already tries to make a new web with more vigor than he’s seen most spiders possess. Finally, Henry looks at Amelia.]
Thank you.
[Really, that’s all he can manage for now. All he can say in regards to processing this action. But— Well. It’s sincere, a rarity from him. She really did put some effort into this little gesture for him, didn’t she?
Her hair…]
Your hair… Is it that useful?
[Without thinking, he just reaches out to… touch a lock of her hair, curious. Either oblivious or unremarking to her shyness.]
no subject
It's... I have a lot of excess energy. It has to circulate somewhere and I'm a witch with long hair so naturally, that's where I channel it.
I think you might be able to feel it since it's only notable up... close.
[The lock he has between his fingertips gives off a very low signature and a distinct hum. In day-to-day life, Amelia manages to make her hair appear normal and its gloss and color are natural. The magic that flows through the innumerable strands would not be as distinct until she decides to use it.
Amelia will just glance the other way, thanks. That much should satisfy his curiosity right?]
no subject
Ymmv regarding whether this is a good thing or otherwise.
But for now, he just looks at its hue gleaming in the sun. So much excess magic that it literally has to be stored in her hair…]
I think I can— Feel it.
[Between forefinger and thumb, the lock of hair thrums faintly against his touch. After a moment, he finally lets it fall away, looking at the lines of her profile.]
I guess I had no reason to notice it until now.
no subject
[Let the record show that Amelia Eva Steinbeck has once again stumbled into something that she should recognize as a flag of sorts. And once again she is absolutely not aware of it at all.
She turns to look at him again and she's hidden her hands in her hoodie pouch just so the finger fiddling is not as noticeable.]
So! Breakfast. Late breakfast? Let's have some.
no subject
The smile returns, small and faint.]
Well, now I know. More of your mystery is unraveling by the day.
[…again, for good or ill.]
I had forgotten all about breakfast. Yes, let’s eat.