Scholomance called his weapon to hand and thrust it to the ground with a dull clack. “Let me start by saying I know absolutely nothing of magic or how to activate it, and if it looks like I know what I’m doing and you start to believe that I do, pinch yourself.” Scholomance wondered if he needed to act similarly for Mont Blonc, or if his peer managed some practice with it at an earlier point. With his recount of how he earned a squire’s power, Scholomance extrapolated that Mont Blonc experienced more of their new perks than he did. “Somehow it feels like we need to go into a meditative state to figure it out. It’s a common theme among knight-based abilities, I think - concentrate to get to your wonder, concentrate to power up. Doesn’t seem so farfetched to assume it here.”
With both hands clasped on the head of the femur, one thumb rubbing idly against the fovea capitis, Scholomance closed his eyes and searched both instinct and logic for some indication on how to access this purported magic. Nothing came to mind. Scholomance then considered his weapon, visualizing all of its bends and divides and landmarks that peppered the natural bone, and even recalled the weight of the cane when it sat entirely in his hand, and yet nothing came of such efforts. Lastly, Scholomance focused his efforts on his wonder and the various buildings that composed Scholomance proper, and he felt little more than residual fear at the imaginings.
Nothing, of yet, produced any magic.
The squire hummed disapprovingly as he opened his eyes. Nothing looked amiss about Mont Blonc or his environment. He scrutinized his surroundings significantly and found little more than a few extra birds on one of the highest cables for the bridge. The water still stirred lazily below, and Mont Blonc looked wholly unperturbed in the whole affair.
“So I can say that thinking about your wonder or your weapon doesn’t matter much in calling up this magic. I haven’t tried anything else yet, and I don’t know if casting magic is standardized across knights, so you may want to try the same experiments as I did. Who knows, maybe mine is triggered by thinking about tight asses and yours is triggered by thinking about your fun little crematorium mountain. Why don’t you give it a try, Blanca?”
Nothing of magic or how to active it. Didn’t sound so far removed from himself, really. “Maybe it would’ve been a good idea to ask another knight about it, “ he murmured, glancing thoughtfully at his ring and considering Hver with her caribou and seemingly boundless knowledge. But there was so little he’d figured out about knighthood on his own; maybe it was a little silly to think that way, much like it’d been silly to try and strike out on his own as though that made any big difference to his overall confidence or strength, but it hadn’t stopped him then, and it wouldn’t stop him from trying not.
Meditative though - he wasn’t totally sure about that, only because it didn’t seem super feasible for a battle. He couldn’t imagine making himself calm enough to do anything like meditating on a battlefield when sometimes he was scrambling just to stay afloat. (God he hoped he didn’t have to meditate.) Whether Mont Blonc was right or wrong about that, either way, Scholomance stood there for a good long while doing not much of anything with his weapon and finally, he opened his eyes, and there didn’t seem to be anything awry. (Although he did laugh, quietly but sincerely, at that last little bit - and was Blanca going to be a thing that lingered, he wondered? - not that he especially minded one way or the other.)
“I had a feeling, “ Mont Blonc murmured as he toyed with his pen between his fingers, staring at it with furrowed brows. “Back on the train, I mean. - Ploutonion was trying to rally everyone to work together, and asked if anyone’s magic would be useful, and - I had a feeling for that situation, it wouldn’t be?” He bit his lip and shrugged his shoulders. “I had just upgraded, so… maybe I was more in touch with it then? I mean my mountain. Although I didn’t really ever feel like I was much in touch with it, but I must have been, or… “
He looked up, fidgeting a little, and smiling sheepishly as he offered, “Maybe… you should pretend to attack me? - or really do it? I’m more of an… I do better or worse under pressure sometimes, so maybe it’d help?”
”The knight that I met, or squire really, sounded like he couldn’t wait to get away from talking to me. Apart from him, the only other knight I know of is standing in front of me. Can’t say I had many sources to solicit before inviting you over.”
Mont Blonc provided useful anecdotal information concerning his experiences with the train, whereupon Scholomance surmised that his squire friend might know considerably more of its activation than he. The morbid squire hummed thoughtfully before he responded. “It sounds like you had some idea of what your magic was without even casting it. And that’s probably not a conscious affair, but... “ Perhaps latent memory, or inherited memory? Scholomance was uncertain. “But if that’s the case, and you don’t have some awful ancestor floating around your equally awful wonder, then you might stand a chance of simply remembering it. By that same token, though, I’d have to go back to Scholomance to learn how to cast anything.” I’d rather be without magic forever.
Scholomance evaluated his friend’s constitution for a moment before deciding whether he would pursue Mont Blonc’s suggestion. He found no reason not to - while he slouched, Mont Blonc still boasted solid shoulders and a physique that indicated he would break under a few hits. He supposed it was morally offensive to most for him to attack a friend, but Scholomance found no need to shy from it. If smacking Mont Blonc around triggered the use of his magic and better prepared him for potentially lethal battles, then perhaps a few bruises remained beneficial to the boy.
“I’ll stop when you show me some magic,” he concluded for the other man. Wielding his cane like a club, Scholomance aimed a liberal whack to one of the boy’s parietal bones. He would continue to beat that same spot with enough force to procure some pain unless Mont Blonc halted such actions with magic.
”What?” Mont Blonc shouldn’t have really sounded so shocked, given the interaction he’d had with Sessrumnir. But then again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to talk to him back then, it was more just a - he wanted him to go back to France and never return, was all. Which sounded worse, but it really wasn’t when it’d come from a place of concern. “Which squire? Why? - that seems a bit rude, “ and god if anything Mont Blonc almost seemed a little hurt and indignant on his friend’s behalf.
Then again, given his history with knights before - the battle to save Camelot came to mind - even if Mont Blonc had better luck with knights now, especially Saturn knights, he remembered the feelings of isolation that had been hammered in by that whole mess, left as a physical ache in his chest. The thought that it might not just be him, but that something like that might have happened to someone else, someone he cared about, it displeased him, greatly.
“O-or maybe, “ because he knew how his friend felt about his wonder, especially hearing what Scholomance had said before, Mont Blonc quickly tried to find another approach, check it out from a different angle, “Maybe it’s more like - I don’t know, walking or something? We knights, we all have the potential for it, magic, it’s just about learning to put the right weight in the right places and stand on our own.” That was probably a terrible analogy. Or simile. Whichever. The point was essentially there, right?
Even if really, Scholomance had given him plenty of warning, it didn’t stop Mont Blonc from yelping when the bone connected with his skull, swaying back a little as if that would do anything to stop what he’d asked for. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t. He tried to think of things besides his aching head. Nope. He tried to focus on his pen. Nope. Clonk, clonk, clonk - his friend managed to smack him solidly at least three more times before Mont Blonc thought back to that room.
To those knights.
To those voices.
To the oath he’d heard.
Of Saturn.
Without really thinking, besides the shift in themselves they’d all felt that day, he grabbed for the hand that wore the sigil ring and he stumbled backwards - or he should have been stumbling. It should have been a noisy thing, but it wasn’t. And bright yellow eyes that shone even in the dark suddenly seemed much dimmer.
”You might be right,” Scholomance conceded on the walking analogy whilst simultaneously clocking his friend. “It could be as easy as learning what to do when, and then bam, you’re in the throes of magical victory, but speculation only offers so many solutions, Blanca. You might have quite the goose egg before we…” Scholomance trailed off, and his cane froze in midair while he stared at where Mont Blonc was, and his eyes struggled to identify his current position. The boy proved curiously shadowed, like the whimsical dance of a flame’s shadow sparking across darkness. Like an effigy to his former self, where he previously stood, Mont Blonc looked no different than a haze cast over the bridge. Scholomance studied him for several long moments before he realized that no, his eyes weren’t deceiving him and yes, his peer proved unnecessarily difficult to identify.
“I think you’ve done it.” The cane slipped through his grasp and he caught it by the head. The butt of the weapon came to rest on the ground with a sound tap. “Or at least done something. You’re not exactly easy to spot, you know. Is that the magic of Mont Blonc? You’d make a fetching spy.” But how did he manage it? Scholomance could hardly determine the boy’s thoughts when the sudden shift happened, and knew little more of Mont Blonc’s actions. It looked as though the man caught his own hand when he stumbled backward, but what sort of trick was that? Scholomance hardly considered it himself.
The older squire cleared his throat. “In any case, I think that settles the concentration process. How did you do it? Were you thinking of Mont Blonc, or how many bruises you’ll get from all this abuse, or what you had for dinner last night, or…?” Scholomance paused while he awaited the reply.
Mont Blonc’s eyes widened - and his concentration broken, the haze blinked away and he was as he’d always been, too tall and eyes too bright. “Have I? I - Oh,” he said rather breathlessly, glancing down at his sigil ring and idly toying with it between his thumb and forefinger. That’s right.
“I - that wasn’t my magic,” and he could say that with some level of confidence, slowly nodding; it was really a matter of fitting pieces together that’d long since been there. “It was a long time ago, but - back when I first became a page, more or less - I’ve only powered up the first time, then - a bunch of us, knights I mean, we were whisked away to this place, and this thing that might or might not have been the Code spoke to us through our voices? - it was really - this is literally all about as strange as it sounds,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping a little helplessly as he laughed. “Knighthood’s such a weird thing, isn’t it?”
He glanced down at his ring and fidgeted with it again. “I wish our magic was as cut and dry as senshi’s sometimes, to be honest… but, uh, yes. Something happened when we did that, and I couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, and - and I suppose that was it - it’s some magic that comes from, in our case, Saturn. When I thought about our planet and touched the ring, that’s when it - well, there you have it - you should try it,” he said suddenly, maybe too suddenly; a touch of red touched his cheeks. Although if anyone hadn’t known any better, it might have been before he was a little excited. “Just concentrate on Saturn, not exactly your wonder, and try touching the ring. This is something we should have in common.”
”The Code?” Scholomance raised a brow. Asking more about it was beside the point, however-
Concentrate on Saturn and touch the ring. Sounds simple enough. Scholomance placed two thin fingers upon the ring in question, as it rested upon his other hand, and called to mind the great rings of dust that streaked across the sky like molten light - the sight that captivated him so thoroughly upon his first visit to Scholomance. He considered the deep silence of the planet, how foreboding and stark it felt in the moments when he scrambled to find his senses. He considered its vastness, and its wonders - Mont Blonc and Scholomance both, and how the two wonders endured that longstanding vigil. He considered, lastly, how the looming planet appeared from the gentle waters of Methone.
Scholomance shimmered where he once looked solid, and his visage danced a whimsical waltz between corporeal and intangible. He looked to his own hands and found them but a shadow of what he knew as solid and whole. While not translucent, he found himself quite blended with the darkness staking its claim over the bridge. “This is it, isn’t it? Is this some kind of gift we all share? Or is this our magic?” He never thought to ask if all knight magic remained the same. What if he assumed for too long that his magic might differ from Mont Blonc’s?
Scholomance dismissed the image from mind, his hands parted, and his visibility reverted to normal. Hazel eyes found Mont Blonc questioningly. “It’s a useful trick, but do you think it protects us from getting hit? If not, I’m a little disappointed.”
frayedflower
logging!
Posted: Sat Nov 28, 2015 8:45 am
Before the chance could even come, Mont Blonc raised his hands in a supplicating manner. "I hardly know a thing about the Code besides it's there, it's got to do with knights, and it can't be put into words - or something like that. Knights who've been around longer than I might know more, but... " I'm a bit useless. He didn't say that, but the implication was there in the way he dropped his eyes with a slight laugh and the way his cheeks flushed with color.
Still, though. At least he'd helped Scholomance with something. A gasp of delight escaped him as his friend managed to do the magic with the ring, his hands clapping together. "No, no, this is not our magic, I mean - well, in a sense it is, but - " He drew a deep breath. "It's like you said, common magic, a gift all Saturn knights share. I was there when we unlocked it, I mean, the magic common between knights. I just didn't realize what it was then because I didn't have the potential for it."
That had been his second time powered, actually. But he didn't feel a need to say that.
A slight smile lit his face at Scholomance's question, and he shrugged his shoulders lightly. "I don't know. I mean, I'd hope so. It kept me from getting hit a second ago... either that or you're just a poor shot, my friend." The smile turned a bit more teasing, then faded again into a look that was more somber and thoughtful as he stroked at his own chin. As for his own magic...
He glanced at his ring. At the Saturn symbol etched onto it.
Then, his pen in hand again, he stared hard at it.
"Scholomance? I want to try something. But, " he extended his free hand. "I need you to take off your glove and give me your hand, if you don't mind. - is that okay?"
"That's..." Scholomance blinked. Useless, he wanted to say, but that sounded a little harsh for his intention. "I'm not sure what to do with that." So the code exists, and has something to do with knights, but nothing else of import was on offer there. Ergo, he needed to flag down one of the older knights. Well, at least he now knew it existed.
Scholomance started to laugh. "Don't ever become a teacher, Blanca, because you suck horse testicles at explaining things." The teasing was easy, and his tone lacked the harshness needed to convey insult. "So what you're telling me is it's ours but it's not ours, it's like..." He paused, pulled his mouth to one side in a skewed frown, and answered as best he could. "It's like a communal jacket? Any one of us could wear it, it's not owned by one person? But that begs the question, would it only fit certain people? Can any knight do that, or is it only like... Saturn knights and Pluto knights?"
Mont Blonc, at least, lightened up enough to tease back. To this, Scholomance only smiled mischievously. "It could be that I missed. But I always get a perfect score when I aim for the balls." He considered it for the best to leave his comment at that.
"Speaking of balls, if you're planning on drawing dicks on my hand, it's not going to faze me." Scholomance still complied with his fellow squire's request and stripped a glove from one bony hand. He held it outward, palm up, and fingers stretched in case Mont Blonc needed the space. "What's this for, though?"
frayedflower
Posted: Sun Dec 13, 2015 2:01 am
"I'm sorry, " but although Mont Blonc openly apologized for what he knew to be his own uselessness, he at least maintained his smile for his burning cheeks. Because even if he knew he wasn't very helpful, Scholomance hadn't made him feel badly for it, and they were in many ways in the same boat when it came to matters like these. He just had a few more leads due to being in key places at key times, but it wasn't really much to go on.
There was one thing he did know, though. "Our magic is only for us - I think each planet has their own?" he offered, fidgeting with his pen again. "Like I don't know the exacts of the magic, but I'd assume everyone's got their own thing, like... Saturn knights can do this, Pluto knights can do something else, Mars knights have something else. It comes from the planet, so it's unique to the planet it stems from, " and the last bit he said in a bit of awe, as though just taking the pieces of a lost puzzle and snapping them together.
Mont Blonc laughed and idly slid one of his fingers along Scholomance's, thinking to himself not for the first time just how thin he was and wondered if his friend would turn down an offer of going out to eat with him after this or not. Later; one thing at a time. "I think I'd be more flustered trying to draw that then you'd be to get it, " he admitted, his cheeks burning at the mere thought.
Then, he grew serious, taking in a deep breath and pursing his lips together. "A test, " he explained, "Just call it a gut feeling, I - don't know that this'll actually do much of anything, but - " Still. "Can't hurt to try, " he murmured, more to himself than to Scholomance as he carefully etched out the Saturn symbol on his pale skin in ink.
Then, he looked at him, yellow eyes wide and hopeful. "Feel, uhm... anything?"
Magic: Writes the Saturn symbol on his opponent to cast the magic. Of course, a simple way to avoid the attack is to not let him get close enough to write on you. Also, washing the symbol off. It's also harder to cast on higher level opponents for obvious reasons; 1, they're stronger and 2, they're faster. The magic generally lasts a little over half a minute, unless you wash the symbol away, or at least smudge it so it is unrecognizable.
"Interesting. So, theoretically, I could do the same as you." That felt fortunate, for Scholomance found great benefit in being able to slink around undetected. He imagined that he could circumvent many disasters if he simply wasn't seen - and if it benefitted to have a stealthy place to cast his magic, well. He wasn't going to turn it down.
"I think you could get used to a few cocks on y-" Scholomance did not pause, for his mouth continued to recite the forms needed for his words. However, his voice cut out, and no manner of straining his vocal chords roused a sound from them. He paused, sighed through his nose, looked to Mont Blonc Quizzically, and then looked to his hand. There stood the symbol of Saturn written in black ink and while he could feel nothing coming from the talisman, he wondered if this invoked Mont Blonc's magic. He tried once more to voice words and found that still nothing came of his efforts. Flustered for being unable to answer his fellow squire's question, he stole away the fountain pen in his grasp.
There, he wrote on his hand again, just beneath the saturn sigil. I can't speak, he wrote simply. How long does this last? He added beneath it. Finally he relinquished the pen to its owner.
Scholomance knew not if trying to rub away the ink might help matters, but using his discarded glove, he blotted it on his tongue and tried to remove some of the ink. It helped somewhat in dislodging the sharpness of the image, but the basic Saturn sigil still remained. And, of course, he still couldn't speak.
Useful as it was, he wondered if Mont Blonc would ever find the time to cast it in battle. He imagined, then, that it was better used as a failsafe to prevent others from saying what they shouldn't.
frayedflower
Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2016 11:37 pm
"Yes, exactly!" Mont Blonc said rather cheerily, his face flushed with pleasure that he'd actually been somewhat sort of helpful maybe a little.
The squire was already in the process of rolling his eyes in a good-humored way, face already burning as he imagined what was about to come out of Scholomance's mouth. But the rest never came, and he looked to his friend bewildered, eyes wide enough to see the whites around the yellow of his irises.
At the written message (Mont Blonc easily yielded the pen, of course), he smiled, his face flushed with delight again, because wow he'd actually figured out the magic go him. Although really, he didn't know how much good making his opponent shut up would be, but -
It was something. He could figure out how to make it useful later. Surely it could be, right?
That question, though. "I - " His face burned again, less pleased and more mildly mortified this time. " - have absolutely noideaI'msosorry."
Mont Blonc's blatant admission that he knew, or could recall, no method of redacting his magic frustrated Scholomance lightly. He shot the boy an unimpressed scowl before he looked at the symbol drawn onto his hand. Licking his fingers, Scholomance started scrubbing away at the hastily-scrawled Saturn symbol.
The ink started to come off readily once he managed enough spit on the image. Using his glove helped in rubbing away some of the remainder. Once part of the symbol effectively disappeared, Scholomance tried to speak once again. "That's interesting." He paused at the sound of his own voice, evaluated it, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the art of speech returned to him once more. "That's... Quite the skill. I imagine that's plenty useful in case someone was trying to give battle orders. I've also heard senshi shout their attacks once or twice before... If that's a necessity for casting, then I assume you can stop them dead in their tracks if you needed to." Overall, he found, Mont Blonc's magic is quite worthwhile.
"As for mine..." Scholomance paused and trawled what thoughts he could find for an answer to the riddle of his own magic. Little came to mind, save for a solitary impulse that he very nearly dismissed as inconsequential.
On a whim, the squire elected to try it. He wrapped both hands around the head of his cane, then pressed it to the ground in a simple thock of bone. Immediately he felt his energy ebb away, leaving in its wake a hazy, weary pain. His breath left him, though he found no muscle could move to draw in more; he stood stock still in slow suffocation. But as he found the sudden and alarming adversities seep into him, he watched the surrounding area decompress into a spherical deconstructed wonderland - portions of buildings unraveled into paths, while pieces of the surrounding area unearthed themselves to float in the sky. Effectively, it looked like he and Mont Blonc stood on an island rather than a bridge, and the remaining rails and tall tresses wound themselves into alternate works of art.
Additionally, he noted, the remainders of the place looked cyanotyped, or perhaps a hazy, pale green. It felt ghostly for how ethereal and surreal their environment became. And, perhaps most notably, Mont Blonc himself looked like nothing more than a ghost.
Shocked, Scholomance felt the blood drain from his face. He wanted to know, wanted to prove to himself that Mont Blonc was indeed still alive, but could find no wherewithal to move from his statuesque position. Instead he stared on, and hoped he could find a means to release the magic immediately.
This wasn't fun.
frayedflower
Squire - Parva Morta Duration: 30 second maximum magic pool Distance: Victims can be tagged up to 20 feet from Scholomance himself Number affected: Up to 3 'tagged' based on line of sight Extra: Magic 'tethers' at 20 feet from Scholomance barring sight interruption Description: Scholomance summons a death knell that will immediately affect 'tagged' characters (anyone focused on by Scholomance within line of sight). Any targeted character will have their corporeal form turned into a ghastly spirit-form, and will find that any attack or attempt made toward corporeal bodies will only pass through their form. In trade, corporeal characters will be unable to strike or harm those who are rendered as spirits. Spirits will see the world around them as an inverted, crumbling version of their current location. Corporeal characters will look to them as blots of energy rather than people. Spirits can still attack each other, and both corporeal and incorporeal characters can attack Scholomance, as he is the link between the illusory otherworld and the real world. Breaking his concentration will end the attack prematurely.
During channeling, Scholomance's magic actively damages him as tradeoff. Effects start at full body ache and exhaustion and can lead up to immediate collapse afterward, depending on circumstances. He is also completely immobile while casting and cannot attack any targets.
Posted: Sun Jan 17, 2016 4:08 am
The squire flashed him an apologetic look, trying not to panic, because the last thing he wanted to do was inadvertently rob Scholomance of his ability to speak for good (god knew his life would get a lot more boring). Fortunately, Scholomance managed to figure it out, and Mont Blonc breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his voice again.
"Do you think so?" and even if he knew it might be a useful trick and all, to hear Scholomance say it made him light up - although he had to say, "Also, sorry - I didn't - but at least now we know how to shut it off I suppose." It was clear he still felt a little bad about it.
Not that it would matter for long. He laced his fingers together behind his back and watched intently as Scholomance tried to dip into the same place that Mont Blonc had. And for a moment there, he was actually pretty pleased with himself. Not only had he discovered his own magic, but he'd actually been helpful for once, maybe! There was little he wanted more than that, so -
Something was happening. And although Mont Blonc smiled, lacing his fingers behind his back, he knew before long that he did not at all like where this magic was going. What started as a kernel of doubt in the pit of his stomach slowly, gradually escalated at the world around them began to break down and into pieces, and his hands fell away to dangle limp at his sides.
Where on earth were they?
Was this even earth?
"Schol - "
He noticed, then, that his body was not as it should have been. Mont Blonc was pale as the specter he seemed to be as he looked down at himself and realized he could see through his own middle, through his hands, through -
"S-Scholomance?" he choked out, trying hard to keep calm. This was his friend's magic he wasn't really - he wasn't really - don't panic don't panic - "Schol??"
Conversely, even as he wanted to answer his friend for all his panic, Scholomance could not speak. He could not move. He could not breathe. The squire was effectively frozen in his cast, despite every iota of his will commanding him to move, to slip beyond the chilled grip of death that settled about him.
Mont Blonc himself looked - for lack of a better term - dead. Ghostly. Translucent. He lost all of his warmth and color to a monochrome pallor, and beyond that, Scholomance could see directly through him. The Squire fit most interpretations of the dead, and part of Scholomance wondered if his magic had instantly killed the man. But beyond that...
The landscape deconstructed and stacked upon itself in wild, fantastic paths that led out toward the sky. Parts of buildings floated high overhead and formed small platforms to each location. Whole segments of walls raised into the air and bent in a way that Scholomance understood as impossible. Beyond that, the sun grew cold - its rays cast pale cyans and purples to the surroundings, and darkened considerably. They looked to be, essentially, in some kind of otherworld - and one that paralleled far more an underworld at that. Scholomance had no explanation for this place; he started to wonder if his magic procured some kind of inter-dimensional rift that permanently altered the landscape, and left this portion of Destiny City irreparably suspended in a strange crossing of planar existences. His mind spiraled with science fiction explanations for the bulk of what occurred.
But foremost, there grew a pain within him that remained both systemic and undeniable. Initially it caused his bones to hum, and this he managed to ignore somewhat, but it soon grew to the agonizing proportions of too much pressure on his thin frame. The pain ventured to every last strand of muscle fiber in his body, it bred to his teeth, and it conquered even the deep nerves of his viscera. It grew so much that he yearned to voice his hurt, and yet nothing could come of a throat so crushed under its weight.
Finally Scholomance released the cast entirely, and drew a gasping breath to banish his oxygen debt. Leaning on his cane, Scholomance huffed several times before he felt certain he could stand to look at the aftermath of his magic. Instead, what he found was a world completely repaired and restored to normal - had it all been a trick of the mind, then? When Mont Blonc called to him, had he seen the same?
The Mont Blonc who was, thankfully, still very whole and alive. "That was..." Scholomance paused, and breathed raggedly. "Different. I'm not even sure what happened. Are you alright?"
frayedflower
Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2016 6:29 am
He panicked.
As many times as he'd told himself not to, that it was Scholomance, that was it okay - it wasn't. The moment had dragged on too long, and staring at his own transparent hands and the broken world around them... something gave way. His hands began to shake and then his knees began to shake and then his chest hurt and -
The squire half-sagged to the ground when the magic broke, trying first to prop himself up with hands on knees, and then sank down into a squat because he was shaking too hard. Even though he saw himself not, the world returned to normal, himself returned to wholeness, he could not forget what he'd seen, nor could he so easily pull himself from the hole he'd fallen into.
His vision felt dark, still, around the edges as he gasped for air, like he simply couldn't get enough of it - but it was not Lorne's first time experiencing this, at least. He shut his eyes tight and tried hard to steady his breathing, counting in and out, although he was no less obscenely pale and sweating.
Scholomance was saying something, and he heard it - it took him a solid ten seconds, if not more, to choke out, "Fine, just - " just need a minute, he tried to wave a shaking hand to ward him off.
"I think we've probably done plenty to ourselves tonight." Parts of him still groaned from pain endured. Scholomance ignored it as best he could. He wondered, then, what Mont Blonc experienced that brought him down so readily. Did he see a world as strange as Scholomance did? Was there, perhaps, a far more treacherous realm visible to him? Did Blanca recognize himself as dead, much like Scholomance did?
From what he found of it, absent the visceral emotional reactions to seeing a world of that sort, the magic did nothing in particular. Perhaps Mont Blonc could pass through walls, or surfaces? Scholomance didn't know, and couldn't muster the energy for a second try. His friend looked much worse for wear from it, and likely wouldn't tolerate another go of it.
Scholomance could hardly blame him; he felt similarly pained and exhausted from the measure.
"I think it might be time to go home for the evening. Sit ourselves down. Have at least a fifth of Jack Daniel's. That sounds... That sounds good." He huffed out. While still relying on his cane, Scholomance offered a gloved hand toward his squire friend in the event that he needed assistance to stand. As he hadn't experienced what Lorne did, he did not want to assume that the squire suffered no pain from the trial.
Saturn's magic, it seemed to him, revolved much around deprivation. Lack of voice, lack of life - what else did the Saturn knights harbor in their strange magics? To learn more required finding the rest of their apparently sparse brigade.
