Amelia Royer (Ronsam) (
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2016-05-25 07:03 am
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Entry tags:
A turn of magical events [Tagging Viatorus]
It’s late when the text message arrives. Sometime after Midnight, if Viatorus can make out the clock on his phone through sleep-laden eyes.
I did it. I did it!
A few minutes later, a second text message follows up the first.
Are you awake? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But if you’re up, can I see you? I need to show you!
Normally, Amelia would be much more respectful of someone’s sleep schedule, but tonight is not a night for that. Not now that she’s used magic, not now that she’s figured out how to keep from burning her notebook to ashes while she writes down everything she’s thinking and feeling in the moments the magic happens. Viatorus encouraged her to learn, to face her fears, and now she wants to show him that she has.
I did it. I did it!
A few minutes later, a second text message follows up the first.
Are you awake? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. But if you’re up, can I see you? I need to show you!
Normally, Amelia would be much more respectful of someone’s sleep schedule, but tonight is not a night for that. Not now that she’s used magic, not now that she’s figured out how to keep from burning her notebook to ashes while she writes down everything she’s thinking and feeling in the moments the magic happens. Viatorus encouraged her to learn, to face her fears, and now she wants to show him that she has.
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"Oh, yes." Quickly returning to the present, he opens the door and holds it for her. In the corridor Lyall's waiting, looking a little groggy, but keeping close nonetheless. If the trip back to Viatorus' apartment is quiet it's only because he's running through things in his head. What he needs and what techniques he should use...
It occurs to him that Amelia might have foregone food in favour of study like he has a tendency to do, but when it comes down to a choice between food or sleep, sleep always wins with the Dreamwalker.
Inside the apartment Viatorus is quick to encourage her to, "Make yourself at home. I... I need to gather a few things." If he can remember where they all are...
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Amelia spares a nod to Lyall before she falls in close behind Viatorus. Her thoughts are quiet as she focuses on staying calm and not jumping to conclusions about all of this. She has no idea what all of this entails, but she knows it's best to trust her friend. Between the two of them, he's certainly the subject matter expert.
...it's best he doesn't ask about her eating habits, though. Between the stress, frustration, and distractions, Amelia's lucky if she gets one full meal in a day. Snacks of dried fruits and meats - things that keep for some time without effort - are her friends when she settles in to study. Even if her body demands more from her, she pushes it aside to stay focused on the task at hand. She's not wasting away or malnourished, but she could certainly stand to take better care of herself, both in how much she eats and sleeps.
Despite his asking her to relax once they arrive, Amelia knows she's going to pace the living room area if left alone. "Are you sure I can't help instead? Get this done quicker? I promise to keep my thoughts focused so I don't..." She gestures vaguely. "...well, you know."
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Her question gets a brief glance up from the page. "Do you know what hematite, obsidian and onyx look like? Can you tell them apart from other black stones?"
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Holding back a sigh, she sits down on the couch and sets aside her bag. She folds her hands together in her lap and looks down at them silently, feeling completely useless. It's an uncomfortable feeling, one she always does her best to avoid. But here, now, she feels that and something even more terrifying - helpless. Helpless against what's awoken inside of her. Helpless when it comes to offering assistance to her friend. Helpless when it comes to doing anything for herself.
It will get better, she knows it has to, but in her sleep deprived state it's hard to remember that silver lining.
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He opens the wooden boxes, pulling out several dark polished stones and setting them out along the invisible circle he's laid out on the floor. Holding out an open palm, he motions to the centre. "Make yourself comfortable."
After a few more artefacts are put along the circle, Viatorus vanishes and returns with another wooden box. It's only now that he settles, sitting down in front of Amelia, legs folded underneath him. "Are you alright?"
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"Of course." A small, hollow smile pulls at her lips. She's lying. She's terrified. This is all so new and happening so quickly. This wasn't supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be a good thing. Why does it feel like she's done something so terribly wrong? "What do you need me to do?"
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"It's fine, you know. Nothing can go wrong. Even I do this from time to time- Well... Not as often as I should," he admits sheepishly, though he's quick to add, "It's healthy, magically."
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...wow, that came out horribly. Her gaze falls to the floor and her grip on her hands tightens. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
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Taking a breath and opting to move instead of talk lest he get any more barbed words, he opens the box. It's full of dirt. "Cup your hands together, please."
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The dirt is... surprising, but she does as she's asked and keeps her mouth shut. There will be time to ask questions later, when she's sure she won't snap at him for an unjustified reason.
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Once there's a good bit of dirt in her hands he takes a small obsidian disc and places it on the pile. "Ok, rest your hands where ever is comfortable. You can take more dirt from the box if you want to."
Then with a clenching and opening of his palm he summons an orb of light. It's pale blue, offering a soft light rather than a harsh one.
"I'm going to turn the lights off now, alright?"
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When he summons the light, her eyes track its movements until he speaks again. She takes one last deep breath and lets it out slowly before nodding in answer. Her eyes meet his for a moment to make sure he understands the message: I trust you. Do what you think is best.
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The lights switch off without even a motion from Viatorus, leaving the two of them working by the glow of the magical light (because good blackout blinds are a must have for a dreamwalker). When Viatorus speaks he adopts a slightly different tone. It's the smallest notch deeper and steadier. Calm. Stable.
"This is a safe space," he informs her firmly. "Nothing can hurt you, nothing can hurt me. We are both safe."
A second passes before he continues. "I want you to close your eyes. Relax. Breathe slowly. Breathe deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth." Quiet while he does the same. "Each breath deeper than the last." Another breath. "Breathe in as deeply as you comfortably can, and then exhale for as long as you comfortably can." He demonstrates, which she'll easily be able to hear. "Relax your body. Your head... your neck... shoulders... arms... fingers... Your back, your pelvis... your legs and feet. Relaxed."
He takes his time doing this. Setting the scene, making sure she really has relaxed her breathing before he proceeds. "How do you feel? What do you feel?"
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Relaxing has never been an easy thing for the rogue. Even with nothing to do and everything going smoothly, her mind is always running at full speed, striving to find more things to do. The breathing helps center her now, to give her thoughts a place to go. Deep breaths in through her nose and out slowly through her mouth. It's an easy rhythm for her to find – and one that produces the desired effect very quickly. Her head and shoulders fall forward, her hands start to relax and let go of a bit of the dirt they're holding,
It's almost surprising to hear his voice again, having lost herself so fully in the task she was set with. She resists opening her eyes, but only just. “I'm all right.” A beat and she huffs a small, single laugh. “A little tired, now that I'm relaxed.”
She's still terrified, but she's trying to stay light about all of this. He's doing this for her, for her safety and well-being, and in return she needs to be strong for him. So long as she can keep that in mind, it isn't all bad.
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"I-I can feel it - the tingling - and it... it hurts. Why does it hurt...?"
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"It shouldn't hurt." The honest truth as far as he knows it. He resists the urge to take charge and try an energy exchange or to personally help. Instead he tries to get them back on track. "Step away from it. Leave it alone, leave it be. Focus on your breathing again. On your muscles and bones."
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Relaxing, at this point, isn't happening. Being that she's so good at lying to herself, Amelia attempts to focus on her breathing and convince herself that it doesn't hurt, that it's just a new sensation and nothing more. Her face scrunches in pain for a few moments longer before she's able to push past the worst of it. The feeling is still strange, but at least it's not so noticeably painful anymore. As it subsides, she tries to relax herself again, but it's not nearly as effective this time around.
Slowly, she smooths out the features of her face, but there's still a hint of pain in the way she clenches her jaw a little too tightly. "I'm... I'm all right." Not quite, Amelia. Try again. "I'll be okay." Better.
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"I want you to focus on the earth. The ground underneath us, the ground that the soil in your hands came from. Feel it, connect with it. It's vast, and stable, and calm." He waits only a second. "I want you to imagine the light of your magic connecting with the earth. Feel how it feels. Learn from it."
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She's too hard on herself. She's too focused on others. She's never happy. She always assumes and acts on the worst instincts. She's selfish, rash, immature, and a general pain to even be around.
She understands and sees all of it.
...but that doesn't make it easier to push away from it.
Here, now, though, she wants to, more than she ever has before. For him, she'll stop fighting herself and actually try.
She takes a slow, deep breath and focuses first on the dirt in her hands, then slowly moves her thoughts on to the ground beneath the apartment they're in. No need to worry about where exactly the dirt came from, only the ground itself. She tries to tap into that stability he spoke of, to use it for herself. It's an odd exercise, but she slowly feels something inside of her change. The tingling subsides, though it doesn't entirely fade. What pain there was fades away completely and she finally relaxes again as it all starts to feel... normal, in a sense.
Still, she wants to make sure she's not completely messing this up. "How do I know if I'm doing this right?"
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"You'll know," he assures her. Clearing his throat a little, he nods. "Trust yourself. Do you feel like you're doing it right?"
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There's something else tugging at the edge of her understanding that she can't quite place. Her mind senses... something outside of herself, but she isn't sure what. Her brow furrows momentarily as she tries to parse it, but any frustration she might feel fades away under a sudden wave of exhaustion as everything normalizes inside of her. She sways heavily to one side, struggling to stay upright.
"I think I must be doing it right," she says with a small laugh. "I don't feel out of control anymore and I'm tired as hell."
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A pause before he quietly continues, "And then I want you to focus on your breathing, on your body again."
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When she's back to focusing on her breathing, she nods slightly in his direction. "I'm all right now."
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He'll wait for her to follow his instructions before he says anything else. It's only once she's opened her eyes and looks more present that he smiles. "How are you feeling?"
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