[closed] 🧙 yes hello, your wizard is here

[galdorleod]

Who: Howl and Others (planned threads)
When: Mid to Late Juril
Where: Aefenglom; Dorchacht for Wondrous Things quest
What: Howl's social circle continues to grow in his first month after arrival. Also, overflow from the intro log.
Warnings: none anticipated.

Prompts in comments!

Comments

overflow: mogget

[galdorleod]

( continued from here )

[ If Howl had more experience with cats, he might recognize what that wiggle is forecasting. Instead, he's caught completely off-guard when it leaps at him - directly at his face, as far as he can tell. ]

Augh, get off! Get off of me, you adorable little murderer! [ His immediate instinct is to wave his arms and lean way, either to bat the cat off his shoulder or prevent it from landing safely in the first place. ]

[themogget]

[It's just as well that Mogget has ample experience of being a cat, and of their tendency to turn into a liquid when they should in fact be able to be physically handled. He bounces off Howl's upper arm and onto an awning, where he turns around and looks down at the man with a clear expression on his face.

That expression being that that was one of the most ridiculous displays he's ever seen.]

[galdorleod]

[ Definitely not a cool and suave move from someone who considers himself cool and suave. Once he realizes the cat is not on him and he regains his balance, he stares up at the cat - annoyed, yes, but mostly very, very stunned and confused. ]

B-Barmy cat! When I asked if you were looking for mice to torture, I didn't mean me! [ He rubs the spot on his arm where the cat jumped off from, the feeling of its warm little paws still lingering. ] Well, what is it? Are you a lost familiar trying to say something, or am I just a cheesed fool talking to a cat?

[themogget]

You don't look very much like a mouse.

[Mogget finally speaks, which is perhaps not what the man was expecting. His voice is a strange one - not at all like a human voice, but wrapped very much around meows and other sounds typical of a cat - but it is most definitely forming words. He blinks down at Howl, sitting down at the edge of the awning.]

But I am not lost, and whether or not you are a fool remains to be seen.

[galdorleod]

[ Howl raises his eyebrows when the cat speaks, but he is nowhere near as shocked or stunned as some of the other Mirrorbound would be. If anything, his expression steels into something stern a moment later, reflecting his satisfaction to have gotten a straight answer from the beast. ]

I am neither a mouse nor a fool. I'm a wizard. [ pausing, he glances at his basket of beginner witching goods, and the list laying neatly inside it, folded in half. ] ...All this is... just for now. Until I get my skills back.

[themogget]

[He has grown used to the shocked responses, but people in the Old Kingdom are no more used to talking cats than people in other worlds, and though his exposure to people over the last centuries has been limited... it's nothing new.]

A wizard, hm? Interesting.

[The basket gets a meaningful look.]

This world has made you a witch as well, then. How fortunate for you.

[galdorleod]

I have yet to learn the difference here between witch and wizard, if there is any.

[ He looks back to the cat tentatively. Now that they're talking, he finally has a moment to think again to himself: what is going on with this cat? He still doesn't know. It said it isn't lost, but that was all the information the cat offered about itself. He can't know from that answer whether the cat is homeless, or is even a familiar in the first place.

The little thing comes off as a bit high-and-mighty, doesn't it? What beautiful eyes, though.

He lets out a huff and looks out towards the street again. ]

Well? What do you want, then? You want to come along shopping?

for henry [ alchemical apprentices ]

[galdorleod]

[ It's been years since Howl prepared his own potion materials. That responsibility had fallen to Markl ever since he took the boy in, and prior to that, he had either the funds or the power to obtain his ingredients pre-prepared or in need of virtually no preparation. It has nothing to do with Howl being unable to do it himself, of course - prep work is simply tiresome and boring and time-consuming, and much like other chores, he preferred not to do it at all.

But the wizard is starting over in Aefenglom, and he needs most at the moment is money. A job related to magic, doing something he already knows how to do, and which could hopefully help him regain his skills faster, is ideal. Even if it pays poorly.

He sits at the back of the apothecary at a worker's table, his sleeves rolled up and an apron tied around his neck and waist, slowly grinding dried merrow bones into powder with a pestle. The work is slow and tedious, but it's coming along.

He sighs and takes a look into the mortar before continuing. There's another man sitting across from him, also grinding away at some bones, who doesn't seem as bored as he is, but Howl has found his expressions hard to read so far. Maybe some small talk would help. ]

I don't remember this taking so long with fish bones, but I suppose that makes sense.

[morbide]

[((OOC: My apologies, my month got weird and I psyched myself out of like half my inbox... 💦 If this is too late, I understand!))

Henry still remembers what it was like to start fresh here in Aefenglom — even after being here for over a year (!!), sometimes he still feels like he's a fresh hand at magic. And he still finds himself landed at odd jobs, just like this one.

But Howl's assessment of Henry's demeanor is correct. Grinding fish bones isn't riveting, but he's not unaccustomed to preparing his own components back home — and each time he completes one task, he tries (and often fails) to get nosy with the owner of the shop to learn what he plans to do with one component or another. Grinding up these fish bones is done with the desire to heckle him all over again, for whatever it might yield. (Which is likely to be nothing.)

When Howl addresses him, the sorcerer stops somewhat to listen, and to reply.]

I don't remember using fish bones, where I'm from. But that's 'cause I rarely ever found myself draining lakes for fish, hee hee! [henry... people just fish. with lines and stuff. it's fine.] If you had this entire shop's worth of ground fish bones, what do you think you'd use it for?

[...New as he is, it might be faint. But Henry exudes a strange magical aura. He laughs, and snaps his fingers.]

I'd definitely use it with the porpoise of giving myself a fish tail. Then I could become a Merrow. I bet there's a spell in the Transmutation discipline for that one... [Henry sighs, wistful.]

i'd still love to do this thread if you're willing!

[galdorleod]

[ Howl can indeed pick up on Henry's aura; sensing magic was one of the first beginner abilities that he focused on regaining in his initial days here. He doesn't know what to make of that aura, however, and thinks nothing of it. There's a lot he doesn't know about magic in Aefenglom.

What's more perplexing is how odd the man continues to be. As he talks, Howl picks up a small paper bag to empty the ground bone powder into. ]

Hard to say... I don't know what such a constituent would be used for. Although, giving oneself a fish's tail, that sounds like an ocean of fun. [ Howl raises his eyebrows, a slight smirk on his face. Hey, whoever this guy is, if it's puns he wants to do, he can do puns. ]

Now, if I had this shop's whole stock of fish bones? I'd probably sell those before use them. Pocket the money, be on my way.

o7!

[morbide]

[Returning Henry's playfulness with clever words of his own earns Howl a cackle, and he gets a nod.]

Who knows how much fish bones go for in a Witchy city like Aefenglom? But, hey. This guy sure wants us to grind up a sea's worth of fish bones. Just when we thought we've done enough, he's got moray of 'em coming!

[Now, Henry's not exactly the most observant of characters. He can scarcely tell if one Mirrorbound's been here for as long as he has, or if they're new... But if he has anything on his side, it's an easy detect magic spell. It does wonders to determine whether someone's a Witch or a Monster, and if they're a Witch, just what their level of practice is. It can at least tip him off to sizing up Howl, and he hums, tapping his cheek. (There's a bit of bone dust on his finger.)]

You're pretty new, aren'tcha? Hope the trip through the mirror hasn't felt TOO much like a doozy of a fun house for you. I'm Henry.

[galdorleod]

[ Oh, that pun was terrible. How snorts and shakes his head, but he can't keep himself from grinning anyway. After he taps as much powder into the paper bag as he can, he sets the stone mortar down and folds the top of the paper bag neatly. It joins the group of half-filled bags at the center of the table. ]

I am Howl. [ He gives the man a nod of respect as he reaches for another merrow bone to grind. ] New indeed - I arrived this month. Nothing much fun about it, but at least this place isn't nearly as bad as I'd first feared it would be. Have you been here for a while, then?

overflow: jean

[galdorleod]

( continued from here )

[ Howl desperately wants his relationships to last, too. They just don't. They can't. He bartered his heart away to a demon in exchange for power; there's no way for any lover to capture a part of Howl that he simply does not have.

So, Jean's phrasing - commitment issues - is a strangely quaint and cute way of putting it. Howl maintains his easy-going expression as he shrugs his shoulders and nods, a "what can ya do?" gesture. ]

Alas, we've all got our problems.

sorry for the delay

[trost]

Sounds like you don't wanna talk about it. Fair enough. [ Nobody really wants their issues out there for the world to know about. Jean takes a sip of the alcohol the barmaid places on their table, finding himself caring less about the too-honest blabber that might fall out of his mouth as a result of the spell. ]

I definitely wouldn't mind that kind of commitment, but I don't think it's possible for me either. [ Since he has no time to pursue relationships back home, and there's always that looming possibility he might die. This is a topic more personal to him than he would like to have revealed, but at this point fighting the effects of the spell seems completely fruitless. ]

[galdorleod]

[ Howl rests one elbow on the table so he can cradle his chin in his hand and watch him as they chat. Whatever he might be thinking to himself, Howl is unable to hear it, and he can't not ask about it, can he? ]

What do you mean, not possible? [ His free hand plays with the small puddle of water that had collected on the surface of the bar from the condensation on the outside of his drink. ] I strongly doubt you mean it in the way I mean it.

[trost]

[ He won't know how you mean it if you don't say so, Howl! Jean is too susceptible to the effects right now and a blunt personality by nature, so he goes ahead and says what he's thinking. There's a sip taken first, and he places his glass on the counter top.]

I don't want to make that commitment to someone when there's a good chance I could end up dying.

[galdorleod]

[ That isn't what Howl was expecting him to say. So far, Jean has come across to him as a harmless knuckle-headed sort; the kind of average person that he always found to be good company on account of seeming genuinely good-natured and honest. As he peers at him now, chin in hand, he remembers that he really knows nothing about the man. ]

You are very wise and selfless to consider that possibility, Jean. You are taking care of your sweetheart before you even know them.

[ Howl's voice is softer and gentler now, as he openly studies Jean's face more closely. Rarely does he wish he could talk to others about his deal with Calcifer, and he doesn't quite feel that way right now, but he's aware that his inability to share makes asking personal questions like the following a bit shameful. ]

When you say "good chance"... Do you mean the general mortality with which we all grapple, or are you referring to some aspect of your life back home...? [ apologetic smile.] In truth, I'm realizing I know little about your life back home. I don't quite remember what I told you about myself either.

sorry for the delay

[trost]

[ His eyebrows raise at the compliment in mild surprise. It's more common sense to him than a particularly 'wise and selfless' way of thinking. How he thinks the most realistic way to act should be, given the fact that he doesn't want people mourning him. ]

You haven't told me anything. [ He's stating a fact, but with Jean's blunt way of speaking and sharp eyes, it could sound more accusatory than intended. Truthfully, he doesn't mind. He understands when people would prefer not to talk about their circumstances.

He'll share because he doesn't mind sharing. Howl doesn't have to share back, but he wouldn't mind listening, either. ] Where Mikasa and I come from, the whole world is looking for an opportunity to destroy us. I've been fighting since I was 15, and I don't know if it'll ever stop.

it ok

[galdorleod]

Hm. Haven't I? [ He chuckles, his eyes closing merrily, and tips his head into his hand. That is definitely plausible. Maybe he ought to say something about himself, as much as he dislikes the topic. Perhaps when the conversation stalls and the time is right.

As Jean continues, he sits up straight again and looks down into his drink, still smiling vaguely as he listens. So, both he and Mikasa are basically child soldiers. Howl could tell there was something going on with Mikasa, something tragic and unsaid, but it's sad to know that the same is true for Jean, too.

Sad and infuriating. Had Howl known that, he might not have been so complimentary about Jean's decision to keep to himself. Whoever his enemy is, they've managed to destroy Jean in a small way by keeping him from loving someone out of fear. ]

I see. [ He picks up his drink and swishes its contents around slowly. ] Have you ever thought to seek love out of spite? There must be many others in the same mindset as you.

for crowley [ wondrous things ]

[galdorleod]

[ Howl's first two weeks in this new world have been focused on two things: attending lessons at the Coven and earning as much money as possible. This morning, he'd listened carefully to a lesson on the basics of buoyancy and levitation, and after a few hours of practice, he had mastered it - at least for objects that are small and light. This is quite alright for his purposes today, however, as this afternoon is dedicated to a second visit to Dorchacht and its fields of unharvested Whispering Clouds. This time, he intends to go alone, using the new spell to make his harvesting basket float along beside him.

He's been picking tufts of soft fluff from the reeds for about half an hour now, smugly ignoring the plants every time they murmur something about him in an attempt to make him go away. It won't work this time, he thinks to himself - what risk is there of anyone learning embarrassing secrets about him if there's nobody around to hear them?

He comes upon an especially large specimen, practically bursting with fluffy puffs to pluck from its branches, and allows the basket to lower to the ground, figuring that he'll spend a while at this plant to pick it clean. When his hands push past the reeds to grab a tuft, the plant predictably objects.

"Oh, you don't have to pretend so hard with us! Turn us into a coat and we'll know each other just as well as we know you now already. Just as well as that demon you made a contract with, eh?"

Howl huffs and drops the tuft into his basket. Well. That sure was a thing it just said. He's put-off enough this time that after a beat, he actually talks back to the plant. ]

You truly flatter yourself, comparing yourself to a demon.

[sparkofgoodness]

[ Crowley isn't big on hard work.

Money, unfortunately, does necessitate some work in this place.

Normally currency isn't really a problem for him. Miracles are great for that! Currency is all digital these days so numbers just sort of happen, Crowley never worries about it.

Which makes it extremely annoying that his miracles don't work here. Especially when plenty of the work that needs to be done requires... a skill, of some sort. Actual skill is not something Crowley normally works at.

He doesn't much like this.

The one bright side though is there's lots of good gossip in this place. When he'd read the job request, Crowley hadn't felt terribly keen on what is essentially picking flowers for money. He is, however, incredibly nosy. So the small print intrigues him.

He's been sat in a clear patch near this large clump of reeds having an argument with it for a good ten minutes now, they'd only lapsed into a mutual grumpy silence just before Howl came upon them. Good thing, too, now they can complain about him instead! Perfect!

This, though? This is brilliant gossip! Some human (presumably) made a contract with a demon? Hilarious. Bad life choice, in Crowley's opinion, mostly based on his general experience with demons. Couldn't trust them as far as he could throw them. Bound to make a whole mess out of it all. The reply makes him huff with laughter, he can't help it (flatter themselves? That's a new one!) and the laughter makes the reeds turn back on him as they brush against him in the breeze.

Is it such a laughing matter, Crowley? Are you not a demon yourself -- ]

Hey, hey, hey!

[ Crowley jumps to his feet, trying to talk over the murmurs. ]

We had an agreement! I stopped picking you!

[ As if one can actually make an agreement with gossipy reed plants. ]

[galdorleod]

[ The sound of sudden laughter causes Howl to freeze, his hand a moment away from pushing through the reeds again. It's as if he just heard a window breaking in the middle of the night while home by himself - something he'd known was possible, and had feared could happen, and had taken precautions against, but was happening anyway, and now there's a stranger with access to his metaphorical jewelry and who knows what else. When the plants begin talking back, a knot twists up in his stomach, and then there's a response, and at that point he can't take it anymore.

A moment later, Howl emerges from the other side of the shrubby reeds, on his feet, scowling apprehensively. ]

Wh-Who are you? What did they just say? What agreement? What are you laughing at?

[ A vaguely delighted murmur spreads quietly among the unpicked flowers. Yes, very brilliant gossip indeed! How interesting!!

"His name is Anthony Crowley! And Mr. Crowley, let us introduce you to Mr. Howell Jenkins!"

In the blink of an eye, all of Howl's agitation is redirected at the plants again. Oh, no. ]

[sparkofgoodness]

[ This really is the rudest plant he's ever had to argue with, and that includes the time one had a whole leaf covered in spots. ]

Now listen --

[ He says, apparently fully prepared to pick a fight with a plant over explaining anything to Howl. ]

This guys got a basket full of your friends, and mine isn't exactly empty. So I want you to think about this a long moment. Are we people you really want to cross?

[ People who... pick flowers?

It is, perhaps, more intimidating if you don't think about it that way. Still, just to underline his threat Crowley reaches out slowly -- plucks one fuzzy flowerhead off.

Well, reeds? Your turn. Oh, and he supposes he should -- ]

Did tell them to shut up.

[ To Howl. That was the agreement! They had to stop gossiping! ]

[galdorleod]

Forget them! [ Howl cries, turning his glare back on Crowley, and as his mouth closes on the last syllable into gritted teeth, some sort of force pulses from around the area of his chest. It's akin to a shock wave or a vibration, and not very strong, but it's enough for the reeds he's standing beside to rustle against each other. Whether Crowley can recognize what just happened will be up to him, but the flustered young man had essentially expressed his anger and anxiety with a weak burst of magic.

"But Howl didn't!" one of the flowers squeaks, breaking the silence that follows. Howl ignores it and steps closer to Crowley. ]

You're not to tell anyone the name you just heard! Or that other thing they said about me! Or am I going to have to barter with you? You're a demon??

[sparkofgoodness]

[ That's --

Weird.

Crowley looks up and around as Howl snaps at him, blinks at the shock-wave and tries to assess how he's managed to lose control of the situation so quickly. ]

Err...

[ He manages, and tries to work out how to escape this situation. ]

Dunno what you're talking about.

[ He tries, and as the reeds begin to protest and he reaches out to pull some flowers off to try and smother them. Stay out of this, flowers. ]