comin' on to the overload

[doyoulikecake]

[OOC: Okay, so the first section is a bit tailored and QUITE timey-wimey, as I'm not actually sure what day the Mio & Roxis meetings went down. But feel free to have it be backdated, forward-dated, not-actually-on-the-same-day-as-each-other-at-all, etc. To Kaden, it'll have happened on the same day, but I doubt that anyone's going to be like 'so

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[strivingupward]

Roxis doesn't do a good job of hiding the fact that he's shocked at her introduction. It's not the formality that surprises him; it's the honour with which she's according him. She's a Fortner, after all. An unexpectedly clean and unscarred young woman, but a Fortner all the same.

No, he didn't expect her to be so clean. He didn't really understand Kaden's comment about "letting alchemy fall to the wayside". If you're an alchemist, you always practice.

The faint tinge of energy hanging about her matches the spirit-man he's been talking to, however. To Roxis, Kaden is a kind of sprite: tiny, powerful, and glittering with otherspecies magic, and clearly bound up with this girl. Iris's "assistant" might be the word he'd use, if it had the same connotation of someone whose direction you follow that the equivalent word in Roxis's own language often carries. Someone who assists your own goals, always and every step of the way, but by telling you what to do

[sophicsulphur]

Her brow furrows a little as she tries to recall. "I'm-- not sure," she admits. "The stuff I read about was ancient history, and the names... kinda blur together in my mind. Especially now." Her expression turns apologetic, though there's a smile in there too.

"It sounds like it was really amazing. I met one other girl here-- not an alchemist from our world, though her techniques were rather similar. She went to a school too, back in her world." She doesn't say magic school: she lets it be implied. It's not like she's read of any other kind. The history books back at her workshop were invariably alchemy-centric. "Just to hear about it-- the camaraderie, the being amongst others of your own kind. People who didn't shun you, or try to have you kicked out of town." Or burn down your house

[strivingupward]

Roxis gives her an awkward smile. "Yeah. People shunning you for being unusual..." He knows how that would feel. He just exactly knows it. "When I was a kid, I feel like we were-- we didn't stay in any town for long, and sometimes we left in a hurry. And school was so different." He wouldn't go so far as to say he felt utterly comfortable at school; it was like he'd never quite felt comfortable anywhere, always one part dissatisfied. But at school it was for entirely different reasons, and the person at fault wasn't the others; it was himself. For not being perfect already. "At school, everyone was nice. The things I treasured, everyone else treasured too." It had taken away some of his uniqueness. He felt unspecial. Bested. Stood upon. And yet, he can't figure out why he ever thought that was a bad thing

[sophicsulphur]

She hasn't the heart to say that all that happened in a different world, and that the Rosenkrantz family's travel to Chicago was never mentioned in her books. But then, as soon as the thought comes to mind, she doesn't even know how she'd explain it anyway. Or how it makes sense. Is this one of those strange timeline things, like how Hermione came here from different points in time? She still hasn't quite wrapped her head around that one

[strivingupward]

Roxis's grasp of where they are is pretty shaky, having had it explained by Kat, who doesn't explain anything well even when there isn't a paradigm barrier. He knows that Chicago is a magical bubble from which individuals may not be able to voluntarily descend, but its otherworldliness and distance, to him, is a matter of quantity, not quality. He doesn't see why his travel to the faraway land of Chicago wouldn't be just part of a typical grand adventure. After all, it has legendary alchemists like Iris, and that's how these things happen.

"Nothing," he said sadly, "except the ingredients that were in my pockets." And a now-defunct magic pendant and a couple lines of classic text he was committing to memory. "I wish I had my books and my Mana. I miss her, too... Who was yours?" He hasn't quite caught the plural in her mention of Mana; he's ascribed it to the books, not expecting it to cover both. "Is yours, I mean." He'd like to think they're still their Mana even if they're separated right now.

[sophicsulphur]

"Ah," she says, with a look of disappointment that's as much for him as it is for her. "Yeah, I-- didn't have anything either. Not even ingredients, though I guess that's because I was dead." In retrospect, she's kind of lucky she was dressed. Not that she'll be saying that to a boy her age. She knows how they can get.

He may not have noticed her plural, but she has noticed his singular, and cocks her head. "Who was-- oh. Right." Her voice turns a touch thoughtful. "Your time... it had schools. So there were many more alchemists, and so Mana were harder to pact with, because there were only so many bonds to go around. Am I right? --For all I'd have missed having all those bonds, I'd have loved it even more, I think, living in a time like that. Where I grew up, we were the only ones. My family and I."

She shakes her head a little sadly. "--But that wasn't your question. I had bonds with-- have bonds with-- eight Mana, and they're all very precious to me. I can tell you more about them all sometime, if you want. But I guess the one I

[strivingupward]

"Most of my ingredients didn't survive the trip anyway. It was raining when I woke up here," he admits. "I don't think I died-- I think my Wings of Icarus pendant malfunctioned. Or perhaps it was tweaked by a higher power-- I don't know." He's not admitting the tiger wounds, the blood loss, and the passing out, all of which was distinctly unheroic and weak of him. But he'd have been fine if he'd just gone back to the infirmary the way he'd meant to do.

When she says she has eight Mana, however, his expression passes through shock and mild frustration before settling on awe. She is really something. "You had eight? We had to compete for ours! Not everyone could have one." He can't believe it. The trials and humiliation he had to crawl through to secure his pact! And Iris had eight. He's not sure whether to be delighted or offended. He settles on delighted, because (not that he wants to admit it) he needs a friend

[sophicsulphur]

It's probably for the best that he doesn't mention the injuries he sustained. She'd be wanting to check him out immediately, even if they were weeks old. And she hates to admit it, but she doesn't have that many potions left on hand any more. Not that she's not certain he doesn't have his own supply, but she'd have to insist on treating him anyway. If he's anything like she is, he's the kind who'll jump to treat another's injuries, but is incredibly blasé about his own.

Instead, she just rubs the back of her neck in slight embarrassment at her admission. She can see the brief envy that flashes in his eyes, and she feels a little bad: it wasn't her intent to humiliate him.

"Yeah, I can imagine. In my time, I was probably the only hope they had of ever seeing an alchemist, so stuff was a bit different. So it's not like it was a big feat on my part or anything," she hastens to add. "I'm sure it would have been the same for you."

She nods and hmms when he mentions Eital. "--The Mana of Light. Right.... I never encountered her myself,"

[strivingupward]

Having a Mana had been Roxis's dream for so long before he ever obtained a pact, and he'd had to work every day to keep her. Not that she hadn't loved him in her way, as all Mana do; but she could have loved any alchemist, and she chose one who would suitably entertain her this time around. Roxis was no masochist, and she wouldn't have found him nearly as fun if he had been. Life is refreshingly easy, now that he considers it, without her demands; but she's left an aching hole inside him. Alchemists aren't meant to be apart from their Mana this way. He wonders if dissolved pacts hurt like this-- but he won't let himself believe it's the same thing, not ever. Pacts are meant to be forever. And the world wouldn't force them apart without a reason

[sophicsulphur]

Iris knows how he feels, when it comes to the ache. She's tried filling it with any number of things, but nothing in Chicago seems to quite fit. Ultimately, there's no substitute for that bond, and having had it torn from her-- or at the very least, so much distance put between them that she can no longer feel, even if the pact still stands-- is something she still struggles with. It's part of why she's so clingy. She knows that mortal relationships can't fix her pain, but they at least help a little

[strivingupward]

Roxis considers her description of the library. So they feel like being in his school's resource centre. Well. He can rather see why he didn't pact with any of them. A slightly nervous smile at the thought of it-- "Oh yes. We had a library like that at school. I've seen lots of ghosts down there-- actually, I had one as a classmate. Pamela was hundreds of years old and never graduated, because after she died she couldn't remember things very well. But she was very nice-- rather flaky, but that wasn't her fault."

He's not going to admit that sometimes, alchemists are scared by ghosts-- more often when said ghosts have a propensity for coming up behind you and startling the daylights out of you on purpose. Pamela is sweet when she's not deliberately trying to sneak up on people, which she's disturbingly good at. Still, he sometimes feels a little nervous down in the resource centre from that chilly sensation crawling across his skin and burrowing into his veins. Not afraid, per se-- only jumpy. Alert. As if something might really

This is the closest icon I have to a "blue lines" face.

[sophicsulphur]

At the mention of that name, Iris' eyebrows raise. And as he continues to describe the ghost, her expression shifts from surprise to a sort of knowing grimace, and then, finally, a resigned exasperation.

"...Pamela," she says, eventually, in a flat tone that conveys every mote of that exasperation. "Not Pamela Ibis, by any chance. The girl whose quest to the Guild was for us to bring flowers for her library-- but then she forgot to tell us to bring the vases-- and then the water-- and then she decided she wanted flowers everywhere...."

She sighs a little at the memory, then smiles. "Really. Pamela. Well, I regret to inform you that by all accounts, she lived several hundred years more, and never changed. But I guess that's to be expected of ghosts." There's a slightly sad edge to her voice as she adds, "I wonder if she ever will move on." She's of the opinion she'd be better off if she did. The afterlife's a good place. Better than lingering for centuries as an absent-minded spirit, never retaining anything you learn.

[strivingupward]

"Wait, wait." Roxis pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Her library? Pamela couldn't leave the school campus. Were you really at Al-Revis after all?" Unless she'd finally found a way out-- but the description fit all too well. And he doubts she's left it. Students aren't allowed to leave Al-Revis even for breaks, which was, he'd always thought, why Pamela was bound to campus; and she'd never graduate. Not if she hadn't changed. "I bet you were. And just didn't know it..."

He can just see the Resource Centre decked out with dying, half-dried flowers. To make the place "cuter". Oh, Pamela.

[sophicsulphur]

Iris tugs at her hair, a confused expression coming over her face. "I think I'd know it if I had been," she says. "Maybe we're not talking about the same person after all? Long, purple hair, ribbons and bows, carried a teddy bear all the time? Like I said, I didn't know any schools... I met her in Grimoire Castle. It was a really old building, very run-down.... There wasn't much left to the library, either. It still managed to feel like someplace important, though."

Though it honestly didn't look that much better by the time Pamela was done with it, either.

[strivingupward]

Roxis shakes his head. "That's exactly Pamela Ibis. Where was this castle? Was it floating in the sky with some other buildings and things? The resource centre was a pretty tall building... I don't know." Iris probably didn't go to a random castle in the sky, he thinks. "Maybe she got out after all." And decided to settle in a library again. Well, that was Pamela. Drawn to the spooky and monster-infested. He wishes Iris could have asked her about school, but Pamela probably wouldn't have remembered anything anyway. "It really sounds like her. Even her ideas about decorating by strewing a few things around

[sophicsulphur]

"No, not floating," she says, though her reaction to the concept is casual, as if floating landmasses are nothing new to her. Which they aren't, really. "Though it did look sort of... precarious. But anyway, it doesn't make sense for that to have been your school. It was in an Alterworld-- a completely different place from the world I came from. And yet we know each other's families, so it's infeasible that we didn't live in the same world