rogueinladysclothing | A turn of magical events [Tagging Viatorus]

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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.

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"Oh. That's alright." Unaware of Amelia's self-criticisms, Viatorus continues to read and gather a couple of things. Even when he goes to rearrange the room, he uses magic to lift and move the coffee table and some of the chairs, bar the one with Amelia perched on top.

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?"

Once Viatorus motions for her to move in to the center of the circle of stones, she does so without a word. She kneels down slowly and sits back on her feet, her hands folding themselves in her lap again. She watches him dart about, but she doesn't offer her help or speak to him. It's only when he sits in front of her that she meets his gaze.

"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?"

Small, hollow smiles are the masks of rich children used at political pawns. Viatorus spots it a mile away.

"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."

She sighs and shakes her head. He's trying to help and she knows it, but the way phrases all of that makes her feel even worse about this whole thing. "Let's just get this over with, Viatorus."

...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."

Viatorus pulls back at the sharp reaction, eyes darting from place to place as he quickly works through it. "It's fine."

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."

His discomfort is obvious and she makes a mental note to do something to make it up to him later, once all of this is finished.

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.

Bit by bit he shovels dirt into her hands. "Don't worry if it goes onto the floor. I'll have it cleaned tomorrow."

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?"

This is by far the strangest thing Amelia's ever done in her life, but she tries not to let her vague curiosity show. Her hands are rested against her lap and as much as she wants to ask why she could possibly need more dirt, she doesn't. She still doesn't trust herself to speak without snapping at him.

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.

Witchcraft is always strange to those not accustomed to it and while not inherently linked to magic, it is extremely applicable, especially to a magical life. So Viatorus freely assumes she thinks this is some kind of ridiculous and hopes she finds it helpful.

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?"

The change in his tone of voice, in his general demeanor, is something Amelia didn't expect. She's always felt safe with him, but now? Now she feels it even more. It pulls at her heart for a moment before she pushes it aside to focus on the task set to her.

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.

Edited 2016-05-30 18:12 (UTC)

"Good." There's encouragement in that one small word, gentle, upbeat. "Can you feel... an energy? Inside you, buzzing near the surface, perhaps? Making your nerves tingle or the pit of your stomach feel strange?"

"Ahh..." Her brow furrows a bit as she shifts her focus from her breathing to what's actually happening inside of her. That strange electric, almost buzzing sensation he spoke of is present and all at once it's almost too much for her to handle as she tunes into it. Her fingers tingle in an almost painful way and her arms shake under the added strain of keeping still and pushing through the pain. Breathing becomes more of a chore, but she fights to stay calm. She can do this. She has to.

"I-I can feel it - the tingling - and it... it hurts. Why does it hurt...?"

Viatorus frowns. Hard.

"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."

Breathing. Focus on breathing. She can do that. "I'll try."

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.

The frown only gets deeper. It's a sign of how unused to this she is that she acts as if he can't feel it. A swell of irritation washes through him, but subsides just as quickly. He hates that she lies to him, to herself, so easily and so frequently, so adamantly. But part of the swell of energy isn't his, he knows it. Pushing it aside, he continues on.

"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."

Even with her eyes closed and no way of sensing what he's feeling, she knows he's frustrated - and she knows why. She's heard all of the things people say about her behind her back thousands of times over.

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?"

The smallest smile breaks the seriousness of his unhappy thoughts. How familiar that question feels. It reminds him of younger days hoping to master his techniques and impress his tutors. He's a little kinder that they were.

"You'll know," he assures her. Clearing his throat a little, he nods. "Trust yourself. Do you feel like you're doing it right?"

She opens her mouth to question him further when she thinks better of it. Her focus shifts back to the dirt in her hands and she slowly realizes that tingling has completely faded away from her. It's not gone, but has moved into the dirt instead. Everything feels easier now, much more controlled. No more pain, no more struggles. It's all comfortable without being overly so.

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."

"Good." Encouragement seeps back into his voice again. Gentle coaxing now that they've gotten somewhere more productive. "I want you to do it for as long as you want. As long as you feel the need to. You'll know when you're finished."

A pause before he quietly continues, "And then I want you to focus on your breathing, on your body again."

There isn't much more of her left to give to all of this, but she keeps her focus on the ground until she's certain she's about to pass out. When she pulls back from that, she finds the exhaustion is still there, but less present, as if she'd really left something behind in the earth in her hands. It feels more like she remembers exhaustion feeling, more normal, and that makes her feel a little better about all of this.

When she's back to focusing on her breathing, she nods slightly in his direction. "I'm all right now."

"Good," he repeats again gently. "When you're ready, in your own time, you can open your eyes and put the earth back into the box. Then you're done."

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?"

Slowly, Amelia opens her eyes and looks up at him. After giving him a tired smile, she places the dirt still in her hands back into the box and then shifts so that she isn't sitting on her feet anymore.

"Better. Much better." She gives him another small smile before covering her mouth as she yawns. No need to mention that she's tired - that much is obvious. "Thank you, for helping me."

"It's the least I could do. I'm just glad I could help."

His smile widens and he gets to his knees in a clunky, awkward fashion that's only made worse by how lanky he is. Once he's up, though, he offers her a hand. "The spare bedroom is just through here. It has an en suite that you can use. And if, somehow, you set something on fire accidentally, my wards will wake me up and tell me, so I can help."

Normally she'd push herself to her feet, but the hand up is a necessary thing right now. She tries not to pull on him too much when she takes his hand and gets to her feet, but it's hard not to cause him to stumble a little. He's not exactly as strong as she is, after all, and her exhaustion only adds to how she handles her own weight.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," she says with a sheepish smile. As she takes a few steps toward the guest room, she motions for him to be on his way to his own room for the night. "Go get some sleep, Viatorus. I can manage until the morning. Promise." No lies this time, because she's certain she's about to pass out in all of her clothes. "Good night."

He'd mention that he has to tidy up except he's fairly certain she'd insist on helping him. Instead he fidgets and nods. "I will. Good night, Amelia."

And then he'll wait for her to leave before tidying up the few things needed for their ritual. It's not long before he's heading to his own room to get some rest.

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A turn of magical events [Tagging Viatorus]

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