[ Surprisingly, despite that exact feeling of schadenfreude sent so perfectly through their new connection, Alex finds no resentment or anger. In fact, should Will be able to pick up any of Alex's emotions, all he'll get is...some kind of wistful nostalgia?
Almost feels like having Tod back. ]
A place...? Uh... Okay. Alright. ...My room. [ Eyes closed, and the bed he's sitting on is his old twin. Nondescript gray comforter and sheets, books on all sorts of subjects laid out on the desk, in the bookcase, How-Tos and histories. Posters of bands, movies, a car show he went to once. Trinkets from all over brought as gifts from relatives, on windowsill and bedside table. Memorabilia from multiple basketball teams, as he'd never been able to pick a favorite. Large computer monitor, newspapers draped over it haphazardly. Juvenile decor above his bed--a poster of dogs in hats, of dinosaur fossils, like he'd been saying- ] ...told my mom, had to get rid'a the old kiddy stuff eventually, but...I never did.
[ A light smile settles on Alex's lips. He'd spent three months locked in that room, refusing to go farther than just down the hall and still plagued with Death's attempts, and yet... Despite all the fear, it's still the place he'd grown up. ]
Messy pack rat, huh. Maybe your room gave the Hunger indigestion. [ Rude- But it might make it harder. Telling him to just pin the Oath to his unconscious processes for future reference wouldn't make sense at all. Now he has to do the same thing in an area full of distractions. But he doesn't know how mental spaces work outside the loci method, so maybe it being more memorable overrides the too many objects. Worth a shot. ]
Now, with the Oath, you'll want to give it a Form. It needs to be noticeable and it needs to display all the information needed. At the same time, it should be distinctly separate from yourself. Whether it fits into your room or not doesn't matter. As long as it's distinct.
[ That made sense, right? Right. Probably. Shit. ]
[ A light twitch of his lips, but he tries to shoo that thought away. His words are more a mumble than anything, because he's focusing on the room. ] Shut it, I just liked collecting things.
[ But, with a frown: ]
What's... What d'you mean, display? How much information'll there be, I can't give it a place, if I don't...you know, know how much I'm working with.
[ There's no further insulting based on the first part, but there's that one slight smirk that reads entirely as 'yeah, whatever you say Hoarder'. It's such a normal stupid teenager thing. Can't fault him for it. ]
Would be so much easier with the damn room. [ But no, he's stuck in a hospital bed and Alex is too much of a weenie to break him out just to give a basic magic lesson. Just move past it. ] The Oath covers what state I'm in, physically or otherwise, as well as my location. Starts out vague, but I can pinpoint Lion with accuracy now. Whatever you pick, leave it open for evolution.
[ I mean hey, if you try and frame as "What Would Clear Do" he'd probably do something like break a person out of a hospital room, he definitely debated breaking in- ]
So, like... Some kinda... Outline. Like one of those dumb bubble outlines they made us do in school.
[ A wall... If he can just picture that- ] Outside my room, it's already got enough shit on the walls. ...Will I be able to do that? With you, I mean, since it goes both ways?
[ Don't break into hospitals Alex, ffs. Also, it's probably better in the long run that Alex didn't break in. Tank would've snapped him like a crusty pool noodle. ]
Like I said, my system's different. Worry about your end. [ r u d e ] If you can picture everything you're receiving as something that works on that wall, you can place it there.
[ Too bad meditation hasn't done much for him. Kid's still a nervous wreck. This would normally be focused on more, but Alex throws out a comment that immediately brings up the picture of putting one of those electronic dog collars on a particularly unruly pet.
Rude as hell. ] I don't get in trouble that often.
It's only the fifth time, relax. [ What an overreacting baby. But all that comes through is the feedback of annoyance, but specifically the 'dammit mom stop nagging' variety. ] Just set up your GPS.
[ An absolute dummy. But it means Alex doesn't get on his case for having what is probably the highest hospitalization record. Joke's on them, he hasn't died. Get fucked Stop Dying 101!
The voice isn't loud or rushed. Simply the type of idle correction you'd give to someone practicing music. Your hand needs to be in second position, less pressure on your bow. ]
Don't be afraid to push the walls back. Remember. You have a space as infinite as the Sea. Common sense need not apply.
[ He can. And he's honestly kind of impressed. Maya doesn't count because #Contract, but Lion's emotions are nowhere near this vivid. It's beautiful, but also the same type of beautiful that comes from staring at the sun for ten minutes. ]
Here's a question. At 10am, Train A leaves the station. An hour later, train B leaves the same question on a parallel track. If Train A travels at a constant rate and Train B travels at an exponential one, how much time would it take before I reach over and smack you through the Oath?
[ No- wait, a train goes zooming past his room and he squirms, and then another-- Will stop- ]
Y- st-stop making me do math, tha's'not fair! [ Actually flailing his hands to try and smack the non-existent distractions out of his mental space, his house isn't a fucking train yard!
He's also absolutely whining. Child. ] Can you actually hit me through this thing? Do I gotta watch out for a mental flyswatter?
[ It's B. Something moving expontentially will always beat a constant. Thus, Alex's answer is wrong. He must be tested. At first, on Alex's end, everything goes very still. A monitor gets turned off. Focus inward on thousands of years of every time some stupid fucking intern ran their mouth off and had to get their head smashed against a desk to make them listen. Come, remember what form you had, or however that line goes, and the monitor gets flicked back on.
On Alex's end, the next time he turns around to his whiteboard hell hallway, there's a Change. A piece of A4 printer paper taped to the wall, the first in what will most likely end up an endless array of paranoia-fueled conspiracy boards. The quality is sub-par - about as good as your average late-90s printer - but it is a hyperrealistic image of Will throwing the remote at Alex and nailing him between the eyes with it.
[ Really, if Alex just listens to the questions he probably could answer, but the moment the train problem gets blurted, what he's more focused on is the invasion in his new mental space.
He spins about and peers at it, the thing he definitely didn't put on this whiteboard in his mental space, and- ]
[ And in reality, a remote dings off his shoulderblade. ]
Congratulations. You learned basic magic management. I'll buy you a cake.
[ This is partially genuine. Normally there'd be some level of emotional bleed over, but it apparently went across without affecting Alex proper. Extreme amount of potential, low chance to reach it because of anxiety and inability to focus. Sounds about right. ]
[ Too focused on the piece of paper- which he's taking down, by the way, and crumpling- Alex yelps as the remote bounces off him.
He smacks that paper back on the wall, and it sticks, but now it only displays a cut in his shoulderblades. ...And the pain he'd felt through the Oath is gone. Oh. That's how that works.
Alex's eyes shoot open. He rubs at where the remote hit him, but it's a normal ache. He's distracted for a moment. ]
...Wait. Did you just say magic? Like... Like magic from your world?
[ Technically, it's more a basic exercise for maintaining focus that has been repurposed through countless eons and cultures and found particular use in memorization, medication, and religious practices; not just Magic. But that's also way too many words and he's tired. Whatever. ]
Yeah. [ With the same type of inattentive dismissal one gives when discussing the weather. ] You're a Warlock. Th'ell you surprised by here.
When Lion tried to help me before, that... [ He shrugs one shoulder. A twinge of shame, at his own lack of impulse control. ] Called it magic. That's all.
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Almost feels like having Tod back. ]
A place...? Uh... Okay. Alright. ...My room. [ Eyes closed, and the bed he's sitting on is his old twin. Nondescript gray comforter and sheets, books on all sorts of subjects laid out on the desk, in the bookcase, How-Tos and histories. Posters of bands, movies, a car show he went to once. Trinkets from all over brought as gifts from relatives, on windowsill and bedside table. Memorabilia from multiple basketball teams, as he'd never been able to pick a favorite. Large computer monitor, newspapers draped over it haphazardly. Juvenile decor above his bed--a poster of dogs in hats, of dinosaur fossils, like he'd been saying- ] ...told my mom, had to get rid'a the old kiddy stuff eventually, but...I never did.
[ A light smile settles on Alex's lips. He'd spent three months locked in that room, refusing to go farther than just down the hall and still plagued with Death's attempts, and yet... Despite all the fear, it's still the place he'd grown up. ]
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Now, with the Oath, you'll want to give it a Form. It needs to be noticeable and it needs to display all the information needed. At the same time, it should be distinctly separate from yourself. Whether it fits into your room or not doesn't matter. As long as it's distinct.
[ That made sense, right? Right. Probably. Shit. ]
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[ But, with a frown: ]
What's... What d'you mean, display? How much information'll there be, I can't give it a place, if I don't...you know, know how much I'm working with.
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Would be so much easier with the damn room. [ But no, he's stuck in a hospital bed and Alex is too much of a weenie to break him out just to give a basic magic lesson. Just move past it. ] The Oath covers what state I'm in, physically or otherwise, as well as my location. Starts out vague, but I can pinpoint Lion with accuracy now. Whatever you pick, leave it open for evolution.
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So, like... Some kinda... Outline. Like one of those dumb bubble outlines they made us do in school.
[ A wall... If he can just picture that- ] Outside my room, it's already got enough shit on the walls. ...Will I be able to do that? With you, I mean, since it goes both ways?
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Like I said, my system's different. Worry about your end. [ r u d e ] If you can picture everything you're receiving as something that works on that wall, you can place it there.
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Aw- come on, I just wanna know if I'll be able to tell where you are.
[ ...Little shit-eating grin. ]
what a good icon
You shouldn't let other people construct your space. Something bad might happen.
the instructions i gave luc were "an icon specifically for trolling will"
[ oh my god of course alex has tried meditation- ]
It'd just be nice, you know, have like...a beeper on you, or something, next time you get yourself into trouble.
luc continues to be perfect
[ Too bad meditation hasn't done much for him. Kid's still a nervous wreck. This would normally be focused on more, but Alex throws out a comment that immediately brings up the picture of putting one of those electronic dog collars on a particularly unruly pet.
Rude as hell. ] I don't get in trouble that often.
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[ A light, breezy smile. At least he's taking this well now. ]
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It's only the fifth time, relax. [ What an overreacting baby. But all that comes through is the feedback of annoyance, but specifically the 'dammit mom stop nagging' variety. ] Just set up your GPS.
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Alright, alright. Okay, so... Like one of those...erasable whiteboards, except...big, big enough...like a whole hallway...
[ He's mumbling to himself as he visualizes. Dummy. ]
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The voice isn't loud or rushed. Simply the type of idle correction you'd give to someone practicing music. Your hand needs to be in second position, less pressure on your bow. ]
Don't be afraid to push the walls back. Remember. You have a space as infinite as the Sea. Common sense need not apply.
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Alex's natural curiosity works against him, as he falters. ] The sea? You mean the ocean?
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[ Bedridden or not, he will nail you from here if you don't focus. ]
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[ You can probably feel at least some of his overflowing curiosity, like come on.
He's focusing, he's focusing!! ]
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Here's a question. At 10am, Train A leaves the station. An hour later, train B leaves the same question on a parallel track. If Train A travels at a constant rate and Train B travels at an exponential one, how much time would it take before I reach over and smack you through the Oath?
[ At least he's feeling better. ]
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Y- st-stop making me do math, tha's'not fair! [ Actually flailing his hands to try and smack the non-existent distractions out of his mental space, his house isn't a fucking train yard!
He's also absolutely whining. Child. ] Can you actually hit me through this thing? Do I gotta watch out for a mental flyswatter?
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On Alex's end, the next time he turns around to his whiteboard hell hallway, there's a Change. A piece of A4 printer paper taped to the wall, the first in what will most likely end up an endless array of paranoia-fueled conspiracy boards. The quality is sub-par - about as good as your average late-90s printer - but it is a hyperrealistic image of Will throwing the remote at Alex and nailing him between the eyes with it.
And thus his room is created. ]
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He spins about and peers at it, the thing he definitely didn't put on this whiteboard in his mental space, and- ]
Oh, real cute Will.
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Congratulations. You learned basic magic management. I'll buy you a cake.
[ This is partially genuine. Normally there'd be some level of emotional bleed over, but it apparently went across without affecting Alex proper. Extreme amount of potential, low chance to reach it because of anxiety and inability to focus. Sounds about right. ]
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He smacks that paper back on the wall, and it sticks, but now it only displays a cut in his shoulderblades. ...And the pain he'd felt through the Oath is gone. Oh. That's how that works.
Alex's eyes shoot open. He rubs at where the remote hit him, but it's a normal ache. He's distracted for a moment. ]
...Wait. Did you just say magic? Like... Like magic from your world?
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Yeah. [ With the same type of inattentive dismissal one gives when discussing the weather. ] You're a Warlock. Th'ell you surprised by here.
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[ He hesitates, for a moment. ]
When Lion tried to help me before, that... [ He shrugs one shoulder. A twinge of shame, at his own lack of impulse control. ] Called it magic. That's all.
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