merlin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
courtmagic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
acatalepsy_logs2018-09-07 06:54 pm
courtmagic) wrote in acatalepsy_logs2018-09-07 06:54 pm
(open.) sing it low or sing it loud
Who: Merlin and others.
Where: Sometimes the Temple, sometimes the forest.
When: Early September.
Rating: Just PG for now.
What: The Circle's gained a new wizard. He explores, and tries to not get ill.
[this is not a dream. a dream doesn't feel like this - he's trekked across enough of them in the centuries to know. and still, he wonders, because of how different it all is. that woman, and her beautiful eyes - Astoria, she'd called herself. he'd been half numb, struck and dazed when the world beneath his feet did not give. magic at the far reaches of himself, a memory halted in the process of becoming an action.
the world behind his eyes has gone silent, and he marvels at it. the sheer expanse of the unknown. Merlin breathes air utterly new to him, and cannot decide if this is for good or ill. it is, and he must adapt. freedom at a price, or the illusion of such. there is much to contemplate, but as ever, the only road ahead is forward.
--
of course, he explores the Temple. it's where they're supposed to be, after all, a place with rooms and beds and one he finds unoccupied with a single to lay his head. but beyond that, he wanders, peeking in at various areas. the kitchen is where a hopeful might look to find someone else doing the work of cooking that he can charm the result out of - why bother if he could simply get it for free? other times he's in the halls, seemingly searching for something. not someone, of course. that would be asking for far too much. but when evening falls, he heads to the outskirts, to watch the sky, a figure in pure white robes. as long as he can, he observes the stars, eyes as intent as a navigator as he traces where they are now.
but the illness is all too apparent. the sickness that infested the land cannot be lifted by hands that haven't been fully summoned, the flowers that could trail behind him not so much as sprouting. only their scent that clings to his clothes, and so he moves outward. can't stay in one place too long, trying to minimize his exposure, and the forest beckons. easy to wander, easy to take a rest nestled up a tree, where the sound of soft snoring gives away his napping, dozing with a few of the nymphs climbing on him. other times, he finds himself at the bank of water, sitting down and humming quietly a song he remembers to amuse himself, considering the plight of what's occurred. but as it happens, sometimes he is trying to converse with the sprites, so worked up are they. it doesn't seem to be excellently going, if his small frown says anything, but they'll notice a newcomer before he does, allowing enough time for greeting.]
[[ooc: please feel free to drop me a note if you'd prefer an individual starter! these can be any time, except for stargazing. choose your own adventure, and hit me with something else if it strikes your fancy!]]
Where: Sometimes the Temple, sometimes the forest.
When: Early September.
Rating: Just PG for now.
What: The Circle's gained a new wizard. He explores, and tries to not get ill.
[this is not a dream. a dream doesn't feel like this - he's trekked across enough of them in the centuries to know. and still, he wonders, because of how different it all is. that woman, and her beautiful eyes - Astoria, she'd called herself. he'd been half numb, struck and dazed when the world beneath his feet did not give. magic at the far reaches of himself, a memory halted in the process of becoming an action.
the world behind his eyes has gone silent, and he marvels at it. the sheer expanse of the unknown. Merlin breathes air utterly new to him, and cannot decide if this is for good or ill. it is, and he must adapt. freedom at a price, or the illusion of such. there is much to contemplate, but as ever, the only road ahead is forward.
--
of course, he explores the Temple. it's where they're supposed to be, after all, a place with rooms and beds and one he finds unoccupied with a single to lay his head. but beyond that, he wanders, peeking in at various areas. the kitchen is where a hopeful might look to find someone else doing the work of cooking that he can charm the result out of - why bother if he could simply get it for free? other times he's in the halls, seemingly searching for something. not someone, of course. that would be asking for far too much. but when evening falls, he heads to the outskirts, to watch the sky, a figure in pure white robes. as long as he can, he observes the stars, eyes as intent as a navigator as he traces where they are now.
but the illness is all too apparent. the sickness that infested the land cannot be lifted by hands that haven't been fully summoned, the flowers that could trail behind him not so much as sprouting. only their scent that clings to his clothes, and so he moves outward. can't stay in one place too long, trying to minimize his exposure, and the forest beckons. easy to wander, easy to take a rest nestled up a tree, where the sound of soft snoring gives away his napping, dozing with a few of the nymphs climbing on him. other times, he finds himself at the bank of water, sitting down and humming quietly a song he remembers to amuse himself, considering the plight of what's occurred. but as it happens, sometimes he is trying to converse with the sprites, so worked up are they. it doesn't seem to be excellently going, if his small frown says anything, but they'll notice a newcomer before he does, allowing enough time for greeting.]
[[ooc: please feel free to drop me a note if you'd prefer an individual starter! these can be any time, except for stargazing. choose your own adventure, and hit me with something else if it strikes your fancy!]]
no subject
[he's not going to state the obvious that the reason Arturia was seen as a man was because that was what she wanted. no, Waver doesn't want the king's tale. not yet.]
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Fine, then let's get back to theories on what's going on, either with this sickness crap or how all the Magics are interacting. You get to pick.
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[at heart, he's a nerd.]
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Tell me what you're thinking first, then I can give you anything else you've missed due to my simply being around here for longer.
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[come, Waver. sit with him, because he's going to take up space under a tree and let one of the nymphs crawl on his arm.]
There's a system I know of that could take a number of souls to another place, another part of the timeline. But shifting that many to a new world, as appears to be the plans...that's different. So many interlocking points.
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[Waver sits down across from Merlin warrily, putting some space between them. Besides being a mage, Merlin is also Merlin and that legend has a reputation.]
Let me complicate that second point for you. There are people here who have been pulled from point A. In dreams, they have lived through new experiences in seeming real time, let's call that point B, so that it's as if they've been gone for a night or two of sleep here, but their memories represent a different gap in time all together. [Canon updates. He means canon updates.] How does that factor into the system you know of?
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[a dozen thoughts are crossing in his head now.]
That implies a temporary division between body and spirit. Which, actually, the system I know of managed to do - the theory was proven, and it required a massive influx of energy to stay stable as well as a consistent observer to verify the person. But it's more than possible, it's been done, though the spirit projection is only along the same timeline.
[he exhales slow.]
I can think of a few people who are more intimately acquainted with the system than me. They'd be able to give you more details, if they ever show up here.
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[Waver listens carefully, nodding.]
That's...still a pretty vague explanation, you know.
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[because Da Vinci is much less vague.]
Mages from another planet, though? Will wonders never cease. It proves that True Magic is a universal constant - you'd shake the Clock Tower with that.
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[HE WANTS TO BE PREPARED.]
...Yeah, if Clock Tower decides that I'm worth listening to because I'm not from an old family. [A chip? On his shoulder? Perish the thought.]
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They're foolish. Let them plug their ears to the truth. You'd know you're in the right.
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[Waver asks the question with a hint of irritation, suggesting that this isn't the first time he's encountered such a problem. Or the second. Or the third.]
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[to him, that's how it is, anyway - because the strategist could only come to a proper mind, and his ascent into who he became could only occur to him.]
And now that you know who I am, you know that I'm known for my accuracy when I give out future knowledge.
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[Waver's just being an ass. He doesn't care.]
But back to the Magics.
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he'll just have to see. in time, he would.]
Who had the encounter with the Third Magic?
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Shiro. White hair, Asian...American? I believe. What he shared was quite extraordinary, as it was a transfer of a soul to an object, then to a new body.
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[Waver does feel bad talking about Shiro in an objective manner, especially since the whole experience as it was relayed to Waver was damned terrifying.]
Just...can months elapse?
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[like keeping a very weird pet alive, right? food, rest, exercise.]
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[he's contemplating the level of luck needed to keep a soul from wasting away in an object like that.]
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You'd probably need to build up some trust with Shiro, but what he shared makes this entire place far more complicated than I ever expected.
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[talking mage to mage was always easier.]
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