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Jul. 21st, 2016 01:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arcane_mixologist[OOC: Stealing the idea of Eliot's spell from Courtney Crumrin Tales: A Portrait of a Warlock as a Young Man by Ted Naifeh.]
Eliot met Margo the same day he'd met Dale. She'd simply come up to him and declared, "I've been watching you and the other people here, and I've decided we are going to be very close."
"Like friends close or enemies close?" He had asked, alluding to Machiavelli.
She had simply smiled, threaded an arm through his, and said, "Yes."
Dale was another matter. He was the head of the physical house of Brakebills--those magicians how specialized in physical expressions of magic--and Dale took an instant dislike to Eliot. Eliot wasn't quite sure why and didn't care, really. At least he didn't until his talents proved to be in the physical realm. Dale took every chance he could to attempt to belittle Eliot. Margo was certain Dale saw Eliot as a threat, though again Eliot couldn't see why. He'd done nothing to challenge Dale's trumped up power and wasn't interested in being the head of the physical kids (as the house called themselves).
Now he and Margo were to officially join the house, if they could pass the test Dale placed before them; gaining entry into the physical house itself.
"The glass won't break, and there's a powerful locking spell," Eliot remarked while tapping on the front window of the physical kids house with the ring on his finger. "Those curtains look nasty, too."
Margo simply sighed in response while looking through the window on her tippy toes. "The pattern is hideous. My great-grandmother must have picked those out."
"This is all so typical really. All this complex, impressive magic, and yet light can still pass right through. All one has to do is ride it."
"So why don't we?" Margo asked with a hint of an impatient whine.
"I don't want to tangle with those curtains."
"They do look dusty and I'm wearing cashmere."
Taking a step to the right, Eliot began knocking on the wooden wall for a few moments before smiling wickedly. "Want to see something I discovered just this morning?"
"Is it nasty?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Pity. Okay, show me your fantastic trick. Impress me."
"Close your eyes and listen. Hear the echo?"
"Yes. It's getting fainter, though."
"That's what it sounds like from the outside."
Startled, Margo opened her eyes and saw they were inside the physical house. "Nicely done," she said with some pride. She had known she'd chosen well the day she approached him.
"A lot easier than the mess Dale likely had picked for us I am sure," Eliot replied with a smug grin. "Let's go find the bar now and ruin Dale's fun."
Eliot met Margo the same day he'd met Dale. She'd simply come up to him and declared, "I've been watching you and the other people here, and I've decided we are going to be very close."
"Like friends close or enemies close?" He had asked, alluding to Machiavelli.
She had simply smiled, threaded an arm through his, and said, "Yes."
Dale was another matter. He was the head of the physical house of Brakebills--those magicians how specialized in physical expressions of magic--and Dale took an instant dislike to Eliot. Eliot wasn't quite sure why and didn't care, really. At least he didn't until his talents proved to be in the physical realm. Dale took every chance he could to attempt to belittle Eliot. Margo was certain Dale saw Eliot as a threat, though again Eliot couldn't see why. He'd done nothing to challenge Dale's trumped up power and wasn't interested in being the head of the physical kids (as the house called themselves).
Now he and Margo were to officially join the house, if they could pass the test Dale placed before them; gaining entry into the physical house itself.
"The glass won't break, and there's a powerful locking spell," Eliot remarked while tapping on the front window of the physical kids house with the ring on his finger. "Those curtains look nasty, too."
Margo simply sighed in response while looking through the window on her tippy toes. "The pattern is hideous. My great-grandmother must have picked those out."
"This is all so typical really. All this complex, impressive magic, and yet light can still pass right through. All one has to do is ride it."
"So why don't we?" Margo asked with a hint of an impatient whine.
"I don't want to tangle with those curtains."
"They do look dusty and I'm wearing cashmere."
Taking a step to the right, Eliot began knocking on the wooden wall for a few moments before smiling wickedly. "Want to see something I discovered just this morning?"
"Is it nasty?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Pity. Okay, show me your fantastic trick. Impress me."
"Close your eyes and listen. Hear the echo?"
"Yes. It's getting fainter, though."
"That's what it sounds like from the outside."
Startled, Margo opened her eyes and saw they were inside the physical house. "Nicely done," she said with some pride. She had known she'd chosen well the day she approached him.
"A lot easier than the mess Dale likely had picked for us I am sure," Eliot replied with a smug grin. "Let's go find the bar now and ruin Dale's fun."
