btwn us and the weeds we make one entire incineroar

[crittersheep]

WHO: ROSE
WHERE: ROSE
WHEN: POST-WRESTLING / ARSON MATCH

shiny new barn post ☆

Comments

3/3

[finalbows]

[ abandons his rhyming to giggle when it becomes a lil pile of crushed ice in front of her feet ]

1/2

[wants_the_phd]

[JESUS christ, that startled her. oh my god.]

[wants_the_phd]

[She scrapes the pieces into the spring.]

...Well, that's a start...

[She holds her hands over the water itself, this time, trying to seek out more rogue mana. Honestly, the fact that enough mana left his body to accidentally boil the whole spring is, frankly, terrifying. How does he have this much mana to spare. How does he have this much mana to spare on top of everything he's been spewing out left and right since not just THIS game but the LAST game? What the fuck. Horrifying to think about how this is a perpetually nerfed version of him. No wonder he tried to destroy the world -- that was something fully within his power. christ almighty what the hell]

[she's trying very hard to cool the pond but he will still feel the constant stream of "awe" and "aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh" through the bond.]

1/2

[finalbows]

[ observing. very interested, in what her mind turns to try. how her own nerves interplay with magic that was already colored by, agitated with emotion.

if she tries the whole thing with gathering bits of it directly to her to tell BE COLD more, she'll create random chunks of ice, usually no bigger than a handspan or two, floating in the water... that rapidly next away.

technically, that method WILL do steady chip damage to the circulating mass of magic still in there . . . but there's got to be a more efficient way, right?]

[finalbows]

You're feeding its chaos,
With so much held within.

Why don't you try... a touch more loose?
Let it weaken, and thin.

Force is a trap. Though similar to feel,
These aren't your own veins, and won't completely heel.

[wants_the_phd]

[She frowns, considering his words.]


[She takes a deep breath, lets it out slow. Shuts her eyes. Tries not to think about shutting her eyes and being distracted when Angie is Right There. Tries to relax so she can better feel what she's doing.]

[She tries to imagine energy creeping through the pool like a winter draft through a gap through a cracked window. Slow. Spreading. Calming. Slowing. Constricting. Tries to coax it into a lower state of existence.]

[finalbows]

[

...
as she tries to relax, angel devil gives a very
light
touch
with Rose's emotion power,
to help her along. whisper-soft, a like a leaf unfurling; the same careful dosing he'd been giving himself, to get through having his magic ever on the knife-edge of being a wild tempest. usable only so long as he's still in enough control. calm. not serenity. not peace. calm. clarity. a cool, canny feeling.

under her fingers, the pool cools. the wild mana grows faint, like it's losing its grip on life, heat, restlessness. what remains sinks to the bottom... heavy, out of her reach, merely simmering like an ash-covered coal instead of raging. the danger of it, banked and smothered away to simmer in time to nothing.


...the steam billowing from the spring dwindles. tolerable. maybe even balmy, if you're particularly cold and in need.

it's not become a cold spring, but just a few minutes ago, that was at boiling point. and, maybe, if she set free some of her own mana in some water, later--

this... seems like something she could definitely repeat? the trick of it is probably keeping the mana from immediately rushing to dissipate, once she cuts it off from its source. the stuff in the spring had held shape, until she hushed it to rest. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[When she no longer feels the searing steam, she cautiously dips a hand in to test the water. It's surprisingly tolerable. She's tolerably surprised.]

Oh... Did you do that?

[--But it's a reserved, doubtful kind of surprise, like there's a catch somewhere, she knows it. She just hasn't figured out where yet.]

[finalbows]

[ idly playing with the floating ball of pond water he still had without ever touching it. ]

Of what, exactly, do you accuse?
I need specifics, before I can lodge my excuse.

[wants_the_phd]

[oh, okay, he definitely did something. Makes sense. He's trying to TRICK HER into thinking she could do this. She gets it now. She may be trying hard to learn, but she can still be paranoid about it the whole time. AZDAJA HAS TWO HANDS.]

Never mind.

...Thanks.

[finalbows]

Hm, hm~.

[ he gently pushes on the sphere of pond water... and like a balloon with half the helium gone, it lazily bobs toward her.


Explains nothing of what he expects her to do about it. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[she reaches up to try to catch it with mana, braced and fully expecting it to just explode in her face.]

[finalbows]

[ it stays, perfectly still, just where it's been caught. The surface does have a bit of rippling, but that's what was already there resolving away. ]

[wants_the_phd]

[she just holds it there, giving it her full attention. She doesn't move at all, doesn't do anything else to it besides hold it.]

[internally, she's cycling through a whole spectrum of emotions: caution, suspicion, surprise, relief, disbelief, cautious triumph, optimism, pessimism, desire, self-reproach, heartbreak, resignation, want, grief, detachment, wonder, awe, sadness, hope.]

[finalbows]

What say you, scholar of bones?
Interesting, for a lost art?

What you were so reluctant to take the time to hone,
Appears to be a matching part.

1/2

[wants_the_phd]

[nooooo stop this is making her want to cry.]

[she swallows, and takes a deep breath. She holds the sphere out over the water and releases her control of it, letting it pour through her fingers and disappear into the pool.]

[wants_the_phd]

[...She smiles at him.]

If you’ll teach, of course I want to learn.
In this world, there is no greater joy
than knowledge, plain and simple. Though I yearn
to go home, be triumphant, and destroy
the notion I am nothing, prove I’m more.
These numbered days of mine have made it clear:
I am worthless, truly, at my core.
What time remains will find its end right here.

So why fuss? Why worry ‘bout the goal?
I may as well enjoy life while I live.
I’ll learn, and grow, and so enrich my soul
And consume everything you deign to give.
You see me as a plaything, and it’s true,
but should you choose to arm me, that’s on you.

But if we truly see things eye to eye,
Then let’s wring happiness from life before we die.