( log five | closed | a butterfly before it flies )

[dedikated]

Who: Katydid and a city in Cumbria (dedikated and tongueamok)
What: Just two neighbours. Using their powers. Planning things.
Where: Spire 4, the disaster floor (floor eight) - Carlisle's apartment.
When: Slightly backdated to the 7th.
Warnings: Nothing atm, but maybe later? IDK! Plans. Plans involving Kate. AKA disaster zone.


[ God, she's glad for the flow of her powers in her body again. If not for the constant reminder of what she did, at least for the fact that she feels whole again.

She can, at least, bear the guilt a little better with the ability to run across rooftops regained, with all her jumping and agility skills back to their full potential.

And she has... well, better ideas than the last ones. If she can get Carlisle to agree to them.

Hence the knocking on his door and the armful of papers with notes on them. ] Hey, you in? [ Why is she asking that he's always in ]

Comments

[tongueamok]

[Another sigh, this one stifled as he pulls his hands through the holes in the palms of his gloves, stretching the fabric over his fingers and back to his wrists. He places his hands together, awaiting her self-inflicted injury, channeling a little bit of energy between his hands for the time being.

His nose wrinkles as he grit his teeth; without a wound to heal, the unfocused energy stings him, sending that burning feeling his patients usually get into his hands instead.]

[dedikated]

[ Actually, she can see slight variants in the flow of power just like this. But it requires seeking out and it is - logically - better to see a power fully focused.

So... fine. It looks like her initial idea was best. Kate relaxes her hand and pushes back a shudder and stutter, inhales sharply through her teeth and bites back the increasing heart rate.

Fuck, that hurts. Especially when you have to really dig into her skin to break it as she does. ] Fuck me.

[tongueamok]

You're the one who opted to injure herself.

[He hisses through his teeth, the searing sensation between his palms getting downright painful.]

Whenever you're ready with those spectacles of yours.

[dedikated]

[ They're in place okay. ] Go for it. [ She's just... going to concentrate intensely on your healing rather than the injury. For power purposes, and not because blood churns her stomach. ]

[tongueamok]

[Carlisle places his hands around the wound, though with the buildup he was holding, he almost doesn't need to. He hardly makes contact before the energy jumps from his hands, racing to the wound with nearly no guidance from the healer himself. The injury starts closing up, taking only a second before it is completely gone.

Whoops, that... might have been a little fast. Even Carlisle looks a little surprised.]

Did you see it? It's, er... not usually over so quickly.

[dedikated]

[ Well, it was intensely bright, that's for sure. She wonders, briefly, if the enchantment will work like that - all stored up and rushing forward.

... She might have to make sure that it doesn't just evaporate into the wound, that the power can be let out slowly.

That was going to be fiddly. Fun. ] Yeah. [ She takes her glasses off and places them on the table, rubbing her eyes free of the light that burns into them. ] Anything else I need to know? [ About your powers, or anything similar? ]

[tongueamok]

[A frown crosses him as Kate rubs her eyes.]

Sorry. Gathering it in my hands like that beforehand is really something better saved for major injuries, if ever. It's easier to lose my grasp on it when it's so concentrated.

[dedikated]

[ EHH she has dealt with worse, although not for a long time. ] It's fine. Asked you to do it. [ S h r u g ] Used to know people who were that bright without storing up power. [ Okay, she loves Faith, but god she does not miss having to wear her sunglasses around the woman. ]

[tongueamok]

I see.

[Oh right, she asked a question.]

I'm not sure what else there would be to know about healing, other than it does take more concentration and energy to manipulate through those who aren't human.

[Glacius. He means Glacius.]

[dedikated]

[ Well, she does remember shades of that when he healed her. Unless that coughing was normal. ]

This isn't going to make your cough worse, is it?

[tongueamok]

My—? [It takes him a second to figure out what she's talking about.]

Oh. Oh, ah, no. That's a condition of sorts that I have. It comes and goes and, ah. Passes easily enough.

[dedikated]

[ HMMM ]

If you're sure. [ She's concerned, okay, but she'll play it off with a shrug.

Still- she'll keep an eye on that. ]

[tongueamok]

[Just going to skip past that entire conversation.]

I, um. Am not sure how to have you examine some of my other abilities. I assume warding off the undead would look about like healing, given the process is nearly the same. And we don't exactly have a spare corpse lying around for me to scry.

[Or he hopes they don't.]

Though such scrying can be applied to an unconscious person, as well, though I think we truly would need a third party for that.

[dedikated]

[ who needs conversations when you can have things unsaid? Certainly not Kate. She just... waits for his explanations and eventually nods, slowly. ]

Alright. [ HMM ] We could start now, if you want. [ She could at least try a few initial enchantments, once she's gotten around to thinking of them. It would require a bit of note scribbling and thought, though. Guaranteed boredom. ]

[tongueamok]

All right. [Not mentioning his cursed abilities at all, and he is thankful for that.] What should I do first?

[dedikated]

[ She's already working on the notes she's made, looking over things and crossing out pieces to replace them with new details. ] You got an item you won't miss? Summat non-magical. [ Hell, a random mug would do. It would probably survive, but it's best not to use anything you're really going to miss in early stages of creation. ]

[tongueamok]

Er. I suppose.

[He gets to his feet and heads to the kitchen, coming back with an empty wine bottle.]

Will this do?

[dedikated]

[ She glances up and nods, reaching for it. ] Great. [ It is unlikely that something would go wrong enough to break it anyway, so a wine bottle is a perfect start.

She's just going to tap away. It seems a much longer process than the sunglasses did. Sorry about all the drawn out silence, Carlisle. She's engrossed. ]

[tongueamok]

[While Kate does... well, whatever she's doing (enchanting, Carlisle assumes), he heads to the bookshelf near the door, eyeing a collection of mason jars he keeps there. He grabs one of the empty ones and brings it back to the easy chair with him, setting it on the table.

That's not for Kate. He'd rather she ruin a wine bottle than his jars.]

[dedikated]

[ He'd be assuming correctly. After a while, she looks up and glances at the jar on the table. ] More stuff for this? [ She assumes, anyway. Hopefully the wine bottle won't break on the first attempt, but stranger things have happened. And they are working with something that is a lot of memory and a fair amount of educated guessing. ] Try this, but take it slow. [ She offers him the bottle. ]

[tongueamok]

[He takes the wine bottle back warily, eyeing it as though it may explode.] All right.

[With a quick breath in, he gets to work. Channeling into an inanimate object is a foreign feeling to him: there's no intrinsic flow of energy from a willing patient, no current to manipulate in finding a wound that isn't there. He starts off slow, but he's not sure how much energy to expel in the—

And then, the bottle cracks loudly in his hands, fracturing along the seam. Carlisle jerks in response, startled, and drops the bottle as he pulls his arms back to block himself defensively -- it hits the floor with a dull thud, white-hot energy spilling from the cracks and crevices in the glass, dripping to the carpet as a tangible ooze.

Carlisle just looks at it, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and disgust.]

That's, ah... hm.

[dedikated]

[ W e l l.

She's up like a shot, reflexes automatic as she reaches for the bottle, tapping the glass and disenchanting it.

Whatever magic Carlisle had channelled into it dissipates into the air with a sizzle like water against a hot stove. ]

... That's new. [ She doesn't remember any of the prototypes doing that when they made them at home. Then again, none of them were made of glass either. ]

[tongueamok]

Encouraging. [Said in the tone that implies it absolutely isn't. He sighs; perhaps they should try something smaller and less likely to shatter.]

A moment while I see what else I have to work with.

[Back to the kitchen he goes. He's in there only a few seconds before he comes up with his next idea. There's the sound of a drawer opening and closing before he returns to the couch, a small collection of corks and bottle caps in his hands.]

[dedikated]

[ While he does that, she's just going to... gingerly pick this thing up and take it to a bin. And head back to her notes, crossing out half a page. That clearly wasn't the answer. Maybe if she compensated for the wavelength of his power by slowing down the rate of absorption?

Let's try that. ] Alright. [ We'll go with this. And Kate will take one of those corks. ] If this doesn't work, we'll meet tomorrow. [ Because finicky enchantments like this were draining and she has no intention of repeating that power exhaustion. ]

[tongueamok]

All right. [He assumes that means she's going to go home to think of other solutions -- either that, or she's concerned about exhaustion setting in for either of them. It's not been terribly hard on him thus far, but he's no enchanter, and is unsure of how much energy it takes for Kate to run tests like this.

So he asks.] Is this taxing for you?