[He pauses, taking in those words. Young Amelia, at least in this memory, seems so... defeated. Tired. The spark of her stubbornness is still there, but it feels muted.
Finally, he moves to sit next to her.]
I'll sit. I'd rather talk to you than wander around for now.
[His eyes sweep across her once more.]
If it's any consolation... I don't want to leave. But even if I do, can't you come with me?
[That makes her look up again. Amelia purses her lips as if trying to decide how to answer Henry's question.]
... I tried already. But I don't know where I am. I thought maybe it was Antarctica or one of the Poles, maybe even Russia. You know, because of all the snow.
[She looks outside again.]
Even so, I tried. What's a little snow to a witch, right?
[There's a weak chuckle and a shake of her head.]
Maybe it just means I'm not good enough. I can't even escape effectively with all the magic I've learned so far. You'd get to leave unscathed though.
[He follows her gaze out the window, too — to that obliterating white of the snow. Strangely, he is reminded of the white walls of the lab, and the similarity strikes him in an odd way.]
I’m sorry. I’ve been trapped before, too. For decades. I know how angry it can make a person feel.
[How it changes someone.]
So is that another test? “Get strong enough until you can leave?”
[Her features soften upon hearing Henry's words. At his question, she shakes her head.]
No. In his words, I'm staying here to learn, "until further notice."
[Whimsical. Vague. Frustrating. It sounds just like the man Henry encountered in her first memory he witnessed.]
... There's a lot to learn, you know? Here. Look.
[The book she was reading is opened up again. Its contents consist of runes, similar to what the present Amelia utilizes in everyday life but it is incredibly dense and hard to penetrate in meaning except for the occasional even more foreign diagram as she flips through the pages.]
I'm only starting to begin to understand what some of these mean. So... It helps pass the time. I might practice some of it today.
[Well, the reply matches the demeanor of the man he “met” in her prior memory. So, her mentor was practically her Warden, to keep her imprisoned until she grew powerful enough to satisfy his whimsy.
Again, he thinks of the lab. Of Papa. A little too close for comfort, though he’s sure Papa would never have willingly let him leave.
He looks down at the book with so many runic writings, lifting his brow.]
For someone like me, that’s like looking at a different language. I don’t understand any of it.
[In the actual past, Amelia had no one to watch her and talk to while she practiced the arcane arts. Even though Henry is a visitor folded into this memory where his presence shouldn't cause a disturbance, there's a peculiar reaction from memory-Amelia when he offers to keep her company.
Her cheeks turn pink and she glances to the side. The lack of a smile and the way her brows furrow together could be mistaken as displeasure but her reply indicates otherwise.]
If... If you want unless you have something better to do with your time. It's not like it's going to be anything interesting.
[He says, both simply and truthfully. The way Amelia turns away from him, her complexion tinging with pink, exudes nothing but self-awareness. Company is a rare thing for her, isn’t it? And yet… so, so wanted, he would guess.
The next question slips out without him thinking.]
[His question makes her suddenly bring the book up to her face and hiding it from view.]
I've got too much to study to worry about such things.
[Is it embarrassment that prevents her from answering truthfully? Pride? She had just implied that while there have been others who passed through this dwelling they all left eventually. Maybe she was protecting herself from hoping too much.]
Do you want to see me practice or not?
[Somehow this younger version is much grumpier than her future counterpart. And that one would already be considered cantankerous.]
[Memory-Amelia sniffs and puts down her book again. Wordlessly, she pushes herself off of the sofa and begins to practice magic in front of Henry.
Her text is set upon a wooden stand and kept open for her reference. Her studying involves copying the runes she has memorized and making sure no stroke is out of place or misspelled. Soon the air is filled with blocks of the alien language of one type of magic. Though she's tracing the air quickly, it's nothing like her future self who casts magic flippantly and with the ease of a seasoned expert.
Amelia speaks to Henry (the actual past her would speak aloud to no one), just bouncing her thoughts and what she's learned off of him as he watches.]
Magic as I've come to understand it is being able to rewrite what's in front of you or write in something into existence.
Normal humans and even espers don't have the inherent energy that allows them to create rituals or processes that witches have developed since the early days when the Witch King made them.
[The finished and shimmering blocks of runes hover idly in the air and she starts organizing them into categories only she would understand.]
You know what's strange? When I asked the Witch King if our world needed magic, he said, that no, it actually didn't. He brought it into the world through witches and from there, he just wanted to watch it flourish and see how it intertwined with humanity.
[Amelia frowns at one block of runes, swearing under her breath at an error.]
Shit. I have to redo this one. Anyway, it's like adding new toys to a sandbox and seeing if the children will make something of it.
[He watches her with keen eyes and growing fascination. No, this is very different from how the Amelia he knows casts, with such ease that she makes it look as natural as breathing. This is a student who proceeds with the precise, careful consideration of someone who's still learning, who doesn't want to make any unnecessary mistakes.
It's interesting to see this, and to know he can compare the difference between the past and present. What a difference it is.
Though, funnily enough, Henry listens as though he, too, is a rapt student of magic.]
It makes sense. I come from another world altogether, you know, and there isn't any magic there. Maybe no world really needs magic.
[But what does he know?]
So did the Witch King really just... make witches?
[While she struggles with her correction of the rune, she replies to Henry, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice.]
Yes, I'm rather certain... [Her finger pauses over one rune and she chastises herself again.]
Dammit, this one isn't chaining... Um, sorry about that. But I'm not too sure what that actually means. Are they extensions of himself? I've only started to get the impression that even other witches don't really want to be around him and so it's less reverence and more like fear. Maybe a mixture of both? Or have they spent so much time around humans they started to perceive him differently?
Sorry, I'm still theorizing at this point. I haven't gotten to talk to many other witches since I've started to stay here.
Also, watch out for your feet. I'm going to test one of these.
[One of the completed blocks of runes glimmers and directs it to her feet. The wooden floor starts to sprout grass and dots of white and yellow flowers and it spreads around the room. Though the blades look healthy and green, it's rather sparse and there are still patches of the wooden floor peeking through.
[Extensions of the Witch King? Now there’s a strange thought. Stranger still that they might have earned a new perspective living amongst humans. Henry, who sees humanity as not so great, can’t help but wonder if that’s even a good thing.
Well. Doesn’t matter. Amelia is different than the rest.
Flowers sprout nearby, grass tries to rise up from beneath his shoes. Henry steps back to admire the work.]
Pretty good to me. [He’s just a psychic. This is still very fantastical to him.] Still fond of flowers, aren’t you?
No, no, no, it's not good at all! [She looks upset, not at Henry but at herself.]
The flowers are... Yes, they're fine. That's how I envisioned them but at this point, I should be able to make this whole place a meadow without having to make more script!
[The young witch is pacing back and forth, crushing blades of grass and flowers beneath her feet while one arm is wrapped around herself and with her other hand, she gnaws on her thumb in utter frustration. She's absorbed in her work, trying to overcome what she currently lacks.]
Do I need to cross-reference with another language? That's going to take another few weeks to decipher and combine. Do I have to shorten it? No, lack of detail means more room for mistakes but if I write even more...!
[Amelia squats down and starts pulling out tufts of grass from the ground, directing her self-flagellation at her self-perceived poor results instead.]
God dammit, the flowers don't even have their own scent! So even that's no good!
[Reading, practicing, testing, and applying was all she could do during her isolation. With no one else around, she only has herself to belittle and berate, and even with a visitor in this memory she ends up doing much the same to herself.]
[Again, he just watches at first. Watches her prowl about and criticize herself and take out her frustrations on the flora below.
And he thinks to himself, This is where we differ. Henry had never been frustrated at what he lacked at the time, not when he was being tested and trained and forced to learn. He was patient; he knew there was plenty of time to grow, if nothing else, and that he would achieve whatever bar was set for him -- no, he would fly right over it.
But maybe it's not fair to compare. Maybe her mentor is just not present enough? He wonders.]
Amelia, it's all right. [This, he would tell the children in the lab so often. It's all right. Just try again.] I know you hate being trapped here, but at least it affords you time, right? You can take that time and try again.
[She remains frustrated but his voice and words calm her down. Amelia stops ripping the grass out of the floor and takes a few deep breaths. When he tells her that she can take her time, she laughs emptily.]
Time? Time... Yes. I can take my time. So much... Time.
[Standing up she lets her arms hang by her side and the grass sticks to her palms. Amelia touches her face and then looks at her palms.]
But it's been... How long now? How much time...?
[And before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.]
[And without ceremony, the door swings open, and in walks the Witch King, his crimson hair trailing through the grass.]
Hello, my dear! How goes your studies? Hm?
[The black void-like eyes glance briefly at Henry and he gives him a wave.]
Oh, keeping her company? Well, don't stay too long. She's hardworking but gets performance jitters you see!
[Amelia stands there frozen staring at her teacher before taking a few steps back to be near Henry. Meanwhile, without wasting any more time, the strange creature called the Witch King surveys the floor with the magically created grassy meadow while humming.]
[It’s her reaction that finally strikes something a little deeper than musing over the sameness—and some of the differences—between them. The way she sounds lost to the slow crawl of time, that moment of vulnerability… Henry so often usually revels in the despair of others, in them feeling what he’s felt before, but this time, her words needle in a bit deeper.
Is this… empathy??
And this strange sensation all but colors his greeting to the Witch King, whom he suspected would appear at least once in this memory. Henry remembers him clearly; there’s no surprise on his features.
His smile is thin.]
I think I can stay for however long I like. [This is a memory!! You can’t rush him out.] Do you really give her much time to take a break? The mind latches onto lessons better after a long rest.
[The teacher's foot scrapes across the grass in a half-circle. In response to the psychic's question, he looks up raising his brows.]
I suspect she takes plenty of breaks in between while I'm away. It's been what, two months now? Three??
[Amelia who's gritting her teeth mutters something like, "Five." The With King brightens up and nods.]
Ah, yes, I've given her plenty of space. I don't hover like I used to when she was a tiny thing or in her terrible teens. After all, Amelia's a big girl now! Well. She has been for a long, time at this point. Huh.
[For a moment, even he's lost in momentary thought about the passage of time for his student.]
When she doesn't have trouble getting past the front door, I'd imagine. But with shoddy work like this...
[He answers so breezily, implying that she's been through several escape attempts. The man makes one tap on the floor and the grass that Amelia took great pains to create disappears into the wooden grain.]
... What kind of teacher would I be if I let her go with such subpar casting?
[Amelia's looking at her shoes, trying to avoid his attention now that he's talking with Henry... But no luck. The memory continues visitor or not.
The Witch King turns his attention to her. He leans down to look at her face, smiling and his voice is neither disappointed nor cruel, but neither is it concerned or comforting.]
Amy? Have you been hit another wall? That's been happening more often.
[Next to Henry, she's gripping her hands so hard, her nails are digging into her knuckles. But she nods.]
I'm... I can read the texts. Not quickly but I'm trying not to rush anything. But the results just haven't been what I wanted. I know I need to clear my mind, but...
[But the anxiety of hitting a plateau has been affecting her. The isolation and lack of visitors have twisted her insides with each passing minute, each hour, each month, each year, and now how long has it been?]
[Oh, he knows the problem without Amelia having to say much of anything at all. What lies beneath, the things she either isn't saying or remains unaware of herself.
Henry knows this is a memory and one that will continue on its track unless he steps in to derail it completely. He doesn't wish to do that, but there's still a part of him that wants to fling a passive-aggressive remark in, all the same.]
She needs more company. [He offers his opinion, whether or not it's asked for.] You know, the kind that doesn't come here with the intent to kill her.
[Amelia looks up when Henry interjects and she seems equal parts confused, grateful, and then fearful as she glances over at the Witch King who has straightened himself up.
It's hard to tell what it would have been like if Amelia had at least one other person or more for company. Maybe she would be more well-adjusted or it wouldn't have taken her as long. But the Witch King is a creature who creates standards that either change with the flip of a coin or he adheres to them out of his alien stubbornness.
Which is why he smiles at Henry while gently taking Amelia by the wrist, tugging her towards him.]
Oh, that was one of the ordeals she's endured so well though. I'm very proud of her for that. So if nothing else, all I'm asking her to do is to sharpen her focus with the material that's been gifted to her! She doesn't need any other distractions.
[He looks at Amelia who's watching her teacher and biting her lower lip.]
Remember Amy? The magic you have is a gift and I want you to shape it! It's been thirty years or so now? You may not feel like it but you're getting somewhere. You don't even have to worry about body decay! You're most fortunate and you really should be appreciative of the changes I've made to you.
[His student freezes at the realization of how much time has passed. The Witch King looks at Henry again while she wrestles with that confirmation.]
Well, if you're going to stay, you'll get to see how I help my precious student when she's in a rut. The problem is that she's thinking too hard and agonizing over too many details. Thus, I will give her one problem to solve.
[Thirty years? At least a decade more than how long he was trapped in a lab, plus some change. And how casually her mentor drops the bomb for Amelia to wrestle with it as he drones on and on.]
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sunfloras2023-04-20 07:42 pm
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Finally, he moves to sit next to her.]
I'll sit. I'd rather talk to you than wander around for now.
[His eyes sweep across her once more.]
If it's any consolation... I don't want to leave. But even if I do, can't you come with me?
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... I tried already. But I don't know where I am. I thought maybe it was Antarctica or one of the Poles, maybe even Russia. You know, because of all the snow.
[She looks outside again.]
Even so, I tried. What's a little snow to a witch, right?
[There's a weak chuckle and a shake of her head.]
Maybe it just means I'm not good enough. I can't even escape effectively with all the magic I've learned so far. You'd get to leave unscathed though.
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I’m sorry. I’ve been trapped before, too. For decades. I know how angry it can make a person feel.
[How it changes someone.]
So is that another test? “Get strong enough until you can leave?”
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No. In his words, I'm staying here to learn, "until further notice."
[Whimsical. Vague. Frustrating. It sounds just like the man Henry encountered in her first memory he witnessed.]
... There's a lot to learn, you know? Here. Look.
[The book she was reading is opened up again. Its contents consist of runes, similar to what the present Amelia utilizes in everyday life but it is incredibly dense and hard to penetrate in meaning except for the occasional even more foreign diagram as she flips through the pages.]
I'm only starting to begin to understand what some of these mean. So... It helps pass the time. I might practice some of it today.
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Again, he thinks of the lab. Of Papa. A little too close for comfort, though he’s sure Papa would never have willingly let him leave.
He looks down at the book with so many runic writings, lifting his brow.]
For someone like me, that’s like looking at a different language. I don’t understand any of it.
[But he offers he an encouraging grin.]
I’ll watch you practice, though. If you want.
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Her cheeks turn pink and she glances to the side. The lack of a smile and the way her brows furrow together could be mistaken as displeasure but her reply indicates otherwise.]
If... If you want unless you have something better to do with your time. It's not like it's going to be anything interesting.
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[He says, both simply and truthfully. The way Amelia turns away from him, her complexion tinging with pink, exudes nothing but self-awareness. Company is a rare thing for her, isn’t it? And yet… so, so wanted, he would guess.
The next question slips out without him thinking.]
Are you lonely here?
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I've got too much to study to worry about such things.
[Is it embarrassment that prevents her from answering truthfully? Pride? She had just implied that while there have been others who passed through this dwelling they all left eventually. Maybe she was protecting herself from hoping too much.]
Do you want to see me practice or not?
[Somehow this younger version is much grumpier than her future counterpart. And that one would already be considered cantankerous.]
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Even if it would be like pulling teeth for Henry to ever admit that he, too, was lonely.]Okay, okay. Sorry. [An apologetic look, raising his hands.] I didn't mean to imply anything that was untrue. Yes, show me your magic.
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Her text is set upon a wooden stand and kept open for her reference. Her studying involves copying the runes she has memorized and making sure no stroke is out of place or misspelled. Soon the air is filled with blocks of the alien language of one type of magic. Though she's tracing the air quickly, it's nothing like her future self who casts magic flippantly and with the ease of a seasoned expert.
Amelia speaks to Henry (the actual past her would speak aloud to no one), just bouncing her thoughts and what she's learned off of him as he watches.]
Magic as I've come to understand it is being able to rewrite what's in front of you or write in something into existence.
Normal humans and even espers don't have the inherent energy that allows them to create rituals or processes that witches have developed since the early days when the Witch King made them.
[The finished and shimmering blocks of runes hover idly in the air and she starts organizing them into categories only she would understand.]
You know what's strange? When I asked the Witch King if our world needed magic, he said, that no, it actually didn't. He brought it into the world through witches and from there, he just wanted to watch it flourish and see how it intertwined with humanity.
[Amelia frowns at one block of runes, swearing under her breath at an error.]
Shit. I have to redo this one. Anyway, it's like adding new toys to a sandbox and seeing if the children will make something of it.
no subject
It's interesting to see this, and to know he can compare the difference between the past and present. What a difference it is.
Though, funnily enough, Henry listens as though he, too, is a rapt student of magic.]
It makes sense. I come from another world altogether, you know, and there isn't any magic there. Maybe no world really needs magic.
[But what does he know?]
So did the Witch King really just... make witches?
no subject
Yes, I'm rather certain... [Her finger pauses over one rune and she chastises herself again.]
Dammit, this one isn't chaining... Um, sorry about that. But I'm not too sure what that actually means. Are they extensions of himself? I've only started to get the impression that even other witches don't really want to be around him and so it's less reverence and more like fear. Maybe a mixture of both? Or have they spent so much time around humans they started to perceive him differently?
Sorry, I'm still theorizing at this point. I haven't gotten to talk to many other witches since I've started to stay here.
Also, watch out for your feet. I'm going to test one of these.
[One of the completed blocks of runes glimmers and directs it to her feet. The wooden floor starts to sprout grass and dots of white and yellow flowers and it spreads around the room. Though the blades look healthy and green, it's rather sparse and there are still patches of the wooden floor peeking through.
The girl frowns.]
Not good enough.
no subject
Well. Doesn’t matter. Amelia is different than the rest.
Flowers sprout nearby, grass tries to rise up from beneath his shoes. Henry steps back to admire the work.]
Pretty good to me. [He’s just a psychic. This is still very fantastical to him.] Still fond of flowers, aren’t you?
no subject
No, no, no, it's not good at all! [She looks upset, not at Henry but at herself.]
The flowers are... Yes, they're fine. That's how I envisioned them but at this point, I should be able to make this whole place a meadow without having to make more script!
[The young witch is pacing back and forth, crushing blades of grass and flowers beneath her feet while one arm is wrapped around herself and with her other hand, she gnaws on her thumb in utter frustration. She's absorbed in her work, trying to overcome what she currently lacks.]
Do I need to cross-reference with another language? That's going to take another few weeks to decipher and combine. Do I have to shorten it? No, lack of detail means more room for mistakes but if I write even more...!
[Amelia squats down and starts pulling out tufts of grass from the ground, directing her self-flagellation at her self-perceived poor results instead.]
God dammit, the flowers don't even have their own scent! So even that's no good!
[Reading, practicing, testing, and applying was all she could do during her isolation. With no one else around, she only has herself to belittle and berate, and even with a visitor in this memory she ends up doing much the same to herself.]
no subject
And he thinks to himself, This is where we differ. Henry had never been frustrated at what he lacked at the time, not when he was being tested and trained and forced to learn. He was patient; he knew there was plenty of time to grow, if nothing else, and that he would achieve whatever bar was set for him -- no, he would fly right over it.
But maybe it's not fair to compare. Maybe her mentor is just not present enough? He wonders.]
Amelia, it's all right. [This, he would tell the children in the lab so often. It's all right. Just try again.] I know you hate being trapped here, but at least it affords you time, right? You can take that time and try again.
1/2
Time? Time... Yes. I can take my time. So much... Time.
[Standing up she lets her arms hang by her side and the grass sticks to her palms. Amelia touches her face and then looks at her palms.]
But it's been... How long now? How much time...?
[And before she can continue, there's a knock on the door.]
no subject
Hello, my dear! How goes your studies? Hm?
[The black void-like eyes glance briefly at Henry and he gives him a wave.]
Oh, keeping her company? Well, don't stay too long. She's hardworking but gets performance jitters you see!
[Amelia stands there frozen staring at her teacher before taking a few steps back to be near Henry. Meanwhile, without wasting any more time, the strange creature called the Witch King surveys the floor with the magically created grassy meadow while humming.]
no subject
Is this… empathy??
And this strange sensation all but colors his greeting to the Witch King, whom he suspected would appear at least once in this memory. Henry remembers him clearly; there’s no surprise on his features.
His smile is thin.]
I think I can stay for however long I like. [This is a memory!! You can’t rush him out.] Do you really give her much time to take a break? The mind latches onto lessons better after a long rest.
no subject
[The teacher's foot scrapes across the grass in a half-circle. In response to the psychic's question, he looks up raising his brows.]
I suspect she takes plenty of breaks in between while I'm away. It's been what, two months now? Three??
[Amelia who's gritting her teeth mutters something like, "Five." The With King brightens up and nods.]
Ah, yes, I've given her plenty of space. I don't hover like I used to when she was a tiny thing or in her terrible teens. After all, Amelia's a big girl now! Well. She has been for a long, time at this point. Huh.
[For a moment, even he's lost in momentary thought about the passage of time for his student.]
no subject
[News which is wholly unsurprising, given how long he knows Amelia’s lifespan is.
Still, despite his smile, he cannot help but sound vaguely unimpressed at this Witch King’s… everything. Power or no.]
And how long will it take before she’s a proper witch? One that can leave here?
1/2
[He answers so breezily, implying that she's been through several escape attempts. The man makes one tap on the floor and the grass that Amelia took great pains to create disappears into the wooden grain.]
... What kind of teacher would I be if I let her go with such subpar casting?
[Amelia's looking at her shoes, trying to avoid his attention now that he's talking with Henry... But no luck. The memory continues visitor or not.
The Witch King turns his attention to her. He leans down to look at her face, smiling and his voice is neither disappointed nor cruel, but neither is it concerned or comforting.]
Amy? Have you been hit another wall? That's been happening more often.
no subject
I'm... I can read the texts. Not quickly but I'm trying not to rush anything. But the results just haven't been what I wanted. I know I need to clear my mind, but...
[But the anxiety of hitting a plateau has been affecting her. The isolation and lack of visitors have twisted her insides with each passing minute, each hour, each month, each year, and now how long has it been?]
... I'm thinking too much. I know.
no subject
Henry knows this is a memory and one that will continue on its track unless he steps in to derail it completely. He doesn't wish to do that, but there's still a part of him that wants to fling a passive-aggressive remark in, all the same.]
She needs more company. [He offers his opinion, whether or not it's asked for.] You know, the kind that doesn't come here with the intent to kill her.
no subject
It's hard to tell what it would have been like if Amelia had at least one other person or more for company. Maybe she would be more well-adjusted or it wouldn't have taken her as long. But the Witch King is a creature who creates standards that either change with the flip of a coin or he adheres to them out of his alien stubbornness.
Which is why he smiles at Henry while gently taking Amelia by the wrist, tugging her towards him.]
Oh, that was one of the ordeals she's endured so well though. I'm very proud of her for that. So if nothing else, all I'm asking her to do is to sharpen her focus with the material that's been gifted to her! She doesn't need any other distractions.
[He looks at Amelia who's watching her teacher and biting her lower lip.]
Remember Amy? The magic you have is a gift and I want you to shape it! It's been thirty years or so now? You may not feel like it but you're getting somewhere. You don't even have to worry about body decay! You're most fortunate and you really should be appreciative of the changes I've made to you.
[His student freezes at the realization of how much time has passed. The Witch King looks at Henry again while she wrestles with that confirmation.]
Well, if you're going to stay, you'll get to see how I help my precious student when she's in a rut. The problem is that she's thinking too hard and agonizing over too many details. Thus, I will give her one problem to solve.
no subject
And what problem is that?
[He doubts it's anything kind at this point.]
cw: body horror
good LORD cw; mention of child abuse
cw; body horror cont.
just probably some weird body horror for the next few tags
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