[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.]
no subject
[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.