Kettara Bloodthirst (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldtonew) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2019-01-15 02:13 pm
oldtonew) wrote in hadriel_logs2019-01-15 02:13 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed]
Who: Carlisle and Kettara
What: Two nerds discuss magic.
Where: The lake
When: Current
Warnings: Fantasy racism?
The lake feels more like home to Kettara than anywhere else in the city. The cold she can accept, adapt to. It's been said her mother's people once lived in a very cold place, atop an active volcano so that despite the snow and ice, the soil was fertile and produced strong crops year after year. They were a proud people, those Frostwolves of old. She tries to emulate them now, as best she can. The layers she wears over her armor might not be furs, but they keep her warm. She had adapted.
She hopes her mother would have approved. Of this, at least, if not her other choices.
Kettara kneels in the snow, hands pressed flat to the sand. She has taken a student. The ancestors are surely judging her for this, taking a human apprentice. Perhaps she has been foolish. Perhaps it was the honorable choice. She doesn't know. The spirits have been quiet, refusing to answer when she calls for them. But there are other ways. She closes her eyes and exhales, feeling for life below the frostline. The water has frozen over but life remains. Little fish and the water itself, listening, and ever curious as she reaches out.
Out there in the dark, something sighs. Then, gently, it reaches out through its own power to touch hers. Playful, almost. Kettara laughs. For a moment she simply enjoys the feeling of connecting to another elemental spirit, even if she cannot hear the voice. But then she senses something else entirely. A barrier, gently rebuffing her power.
How strange.
She stands with a frown, sniffing. It's not in the water. She would have felt that. But it's nearby. She can sense roots stretching down, taking nutrients from the earth.
There's a small house not far away, with a garden. And around the garden --
How strange.
Kettara approaches the barrier curiously, kneeling down for a better look. She's never seen anything quite like it before.
Curiously, she presses her hands flat against it. "What are you?"
What: Two nerds discuss magic.
Where: The lake
When: Current
Warnings: Fantasy racism?
The lake feels more like home to Kettara than anywhere else in the city. The cold she can accept, adapt to. It's been said her mother's people once lived in a very cold place, atop an active volcano so that despite the snow and ice, the soil was fertile and produced strong crops year after year. They were a proud people, those Frostwolves of old. She tries to emulate them now, as best she can. The layers she wears over her armor might not be furs, but they keep her warm. She had adapted.
She hopes her mother would have approved. Of this, at least, if not her other choices.
Kettara kneels in the snow, hands pressed flat to the sand. She has taken a student. The ancestors are surely judging her for this, taking a human apprentice. Perhaps she has been foolish. Perhaps it was the honorable choice. She doesn't know. The spirits have been quiet, refusing to answer when she calls for them. But there are other ways. She closes her eyes and exhales, feeling for life below the frostline. The water has frozen over but life remains. Little fish and the water itself, listening, and ever curious as she reaches out.
Out there in the dark, something sighs. Then, gently, it reaches out through its own power to touch hers. Playful, almost. Kettara laughs. For a moment she simply enjoys the feeling of connecting to another elemental spirit, even if she cannot hear the voice. But then she senses something else entirely. A barrier, gently rebuffing her power.
How strange.
She stands with a frown, sniffing. It's not in the water. She would have felt that. But it's nearby. She can sense roots stretching down, taking nutrients from the earth.
There's a small house not far away, with a garden. And around the garden --
How strange.
Kettara approaches the barrier curiously, kneeling down for a better look. She's never seen anything quite like it before.
Curiously, she presses her hands flat against it. "What are you?"
no subject
Carlisle realizes his faux pas immediately, seemingly shrinking where he stands as his smile falters. Right, what might be a polite colloquialism in his world could be terribly rude in another, if her expression is anything to go by, and he'd rather not get on the bad side of someone with fangs.
"A Troll?" he guesses. "Ogre? Orc. No, Halfen? Is guessing rude? It's rude, isn't it? I apologize, I just- I have only heard tales secondhand of your people, and I- I never thought I'd actually meet one. And here, of all places."
no subject
And he looks human. More or less.
She narrows her eyes, gesturing at the barrier.
"You made this thing?"
no subject
He can practice his own manners once he's done answering questions of his own. "Oh, ah, yes! Yes, yes I did. An abjuration ward to protect my plants. A- a bit like a greenhouse, really. But magical. You can step inside if you'd like."
And he does so, as though to demonstrate, his form passing right through the translucent barrier with ease. "It won't hurt you, I assure you."
no subject
It does not hurt her.
"....curious. Is this magic common to your world?"