A breeze ruffles the hem of his robe; he frown slightly and waves a hand, as if warding off an insect.
(Ariel knows a dismissal when she sees one. She also knows Prospero's mood gets worse when his wishes are disobeyed, so although she's far from happy about it, she takes herself off to a far corner of the rafters to sulk out of sight.)
Prospero looks over Matt's magical paraphernalia with obvious interest. "And what occupies you tonight?"
It's actually fairly tame tonight: a white candle, Chris' pink marble pawn and knight, a bundle of herbs tied together in what might almost be a very tiny, dry bouquet. Only one of the books has a title that contains the word sex.
"Definitely," Matt confirms, and shrugs pleasantly.
"Mostly hanging out, studying. Well-- not that I have to study anything anymore."
"I find no matter how old I grow -- or how wise, at some might think it -- I am forever studying. And the joy of it grows no less. Knowledge is a more elusive quarry than the lightest bird on the wing or the swiftest hind -- and the pursuit of it is more invigorating than any hunt."
... Dammit. This is why he doesn't hang out with dudes from prior centuries anymore unless they're Rache and hot and ... morally ambiguous spiritual entities ...
Something about repeating the mistakes of the past should probably go here, but the point is:
"No." Matt shakes his head, laughing. "Uh. I was not taught to hunt. And to get this out of the way, most of what I was taught involves driving a car, basic reading comprehension, rolling blunts, mixology, managing a hedge fund, and only incidental Latin. Despite what a surprising number of people seem to think, I never learned to fence."
"And none of the more usual pursuits of a noble?" Prospero asks, surprised. "Or are those, perhaps, a lord's pursuits where you come from? What a very strange world it must be."
"I'm not sure if we exist yet, but we don't have nobles-- although for what we do have, I assume my list is pretty par for the course. Probably a lot of those kids grew up riding horses and playing musical instruments, but I was lazy and boring."
(He can ride a horse. If it's a nice horse that doesn't startle easily.)
He smiles faintly. "Until I found out about magic, anyway. A blunt, incidentally, is-- it's for smoking marijuana, which is a lot of what I used to do in high school until I decided to take up spell-casting."
He'll never figure out how Katy Rose got out of familial expectations, but he assumes it has something to do with being intensely smart and entering a PhD program at the age of 24.
"It is more blessing than curse, I think. It is our responsibilities to others, Master Jamison, our obligations and duties to those around us and under our aegis, that make us who we are." He sighs. "A lesson learned too late, and one I hope I may yet put to practice."
"Well met again, I hope."
A breeze ruffles the hem of his robe; he frown slightly and waves a hand, as if warding off an insect.
(Ariel knows a dismissal when she sees one. She also knows Prospero's mood gets worse when his wishes are disobeyed, so although she's far from happy about it, she takes herself off to a far corner of the rafters to sulk out of sight.)
Prospero looks over Matt's magical paraphernalia with obvious interest. "And what occupies you tonight?"
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"Definitely," Matt confirms, and shrugs pleasantly.
"Mostly hanging out, studying. Well-- not that I have to study anything anymore."
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"I find no matter how old I grow -- or how wise, at some might think it -- I am forever studying. And the joy of it grows no less. Knowledge is a more elusive quarry than the lightest bird on the wing or the swiftest hind -- and the pursuit of it is more invigorating than any hunt."
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Sadly, he has to admit that Prospero's just said something he hopes will be true for him, only using better words.
"That's good to know," he says, and smiles.
"I've always figured I'd be a pretty awful hunter."
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"Was it not a skill you were taught?"
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Something about repeating the mistakes of the past should probably go here, but the point is:
"No." Matt shakes his head, laughing. "Uh. I was not taught to hunt. And to get this out of the way, most of what I was taught involves driving a car, basic reading comprehension, rolling blunts, mixology, managing a hedge fund, and only incidental Latin. Despite what a surprising number of people seem to think, I never learned to fence."
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"And none of the more usual pursuits of a noble?" Prospero asks, surprised. "Or are those, perhaps, a lord's pursuits where you come from? What a very strange world it must be."
He considers this briefly.
"And what, pray, is a 'blunt'?"
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"I'm not sure if we exist yet, but we don't have nobles-- although for what we do have, I assume my list is pretty par for the course. Probably a lot of those kids grew up riding horses and playing musical instruments, but I was lazy and boring."
(He can ride a horse. If it's a nice horse that doesn't startle easily.)
He smiles faintly. "Until I found out about magic, anyway. A blunt, incidentally, is-- it's for smoking marijuana, which is a lot of what I used to do in high school until I decided to take up spell-casting."
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"America -- yes, the New World to the west."
He listens intently, then smiles.
"Laziness is, it seems, a hallmark of the young. It does you credit that you shed it so soon."
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He wrecks it with a crooked smile.
"Did you have a lazy youth?"
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"Not as such." A small shrug. "A great deal is expected of the eldest son, where I was raised."
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He'll never figure out how Katy Rose got out of familial expectations, but he assumes it has something to do with being intensely smart and entering a PhD program at the age of 24.
Something like that.
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"It is more blessing than curse, I think. It is our responsibilities to others, Master Jamison, our obligations and duties to those around us and under our aegis, that make us who we are." He sighs. "A lesson learned too late, and one I hope I may yet put to practice."
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A lot, as it happens. He finds himself thinking back to conversations with Nita.
(and you want to help people
I think I want to try)
"I think it's a large part," Matt agrees thoughtfully.
He glances at Prospero curiously. "Too late ...?"
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"It is a long tale, and not a happy one, I fear. But if you would hear it . . ."
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"Around here, anyway."
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