Edgar Roni Figaro (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
girlsandgadgets) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-12-31 04:37 am
girlsandgadgets) wrote in damned_institute2011-12-31 04:37 am
Entry tags:
Night 60: North of the Institute
[From here.]
Edgar crossed the wall with relative ease, his hand slipping from the stone as he fell. The snow cushioned his landing, crunching beneath his boots. He had to admit that the military's shoes were preferable for snowy travel to the slippers issued by the institute. Though the chilly wind nipped at his bare face, the fire in his chest kept him warm against the falling temperatures. The cold was soothing, that flame always lapping at him from the inside.
A good night to test out his abilities, then. He surveyed the landscape around him: the rocky terrain, increasingly so as it headed toward the quarry, was hidden by the white that blanketed everything it touched. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing to disturb the stillness. That made it all the more unnerving: there should have been wildlife about, bringing some minor disturbances to the area, but there was nothing at all.
However, no noise also meant there might be no one else around, and given he wasn't sure how his abilities would behave or if he could control them, that was something Edgar had been hoping for. He had barely contained them only one night before- they were suppressed now, but that didn't mean he couldn't lose control. He couldn't risk hurting others; he could only hope his spells would be of some use and that they could be mastered quickly, before he became a slave to the infusion himself. That was not an option.
Trekking from the wall, he chose an area clear enough for his work. It felt so different from the magic he had learned: the words came no easier, but the energy itself dug further into him, teasing his senses as it twisted its way through his body and down to his fingertips. He could already feel changes between the cast from the night prior, the spell taking more energy as he worked his way through the incantation. It would wear on him, but it had to be done.
He could feel his palm sweat as seconds ticked by, his concentration wearing thin. Keeping at it was going to be the key- good thing he had never been one for giving up so easily.
[Rita! Sorry this is way late, man. D:]
Edgar crossed the wall with relative ease, his hand slipping from the stone as he fell. The snow cushioned his landing, crunching beneath his boots. He had to admit that the military's shoes were preferable for snowy travel to the slippers issued by the institute. Though the chilly wind nipped at his bare face, the fire in his chest kept him warm against the falling temperatures. The cold was soothing, that flame always lapping at him from the inside.
A good night to test out his abilities, then. He surveyed the landscape around him: the rocky terrain, increasingly so as it headed toward the quarry, was hidden by the white that blanketed everything it touched. He listened for a moment, but heard nothing to disturb the stillness. That made it all the more unnerving: there should have been wildlife about, bringing some minor disturbances to the area, but there was nothing at all.
However, no noise also meant there might be no one else around, and given he wasn't sure how his abilities would behave or if he could control them, that was something Edgar had been hoping for. He had barely contained them only one night before- they were suppressed now, but that didn't mean he couldn't lose control. He couldn't risk hurting others; he could only hope his spells would be of some use and that they could be mastered quickly, before he became a slave to the infusion himself. That was not an option.
Trekking from the wall, he chose an area clear enough for his work. It felt so different from the magic he had learned: the words came no easier, but the energy itself dug further into him, teasing his senses as it twisted its way through his body and down to his fingertips. He could already feel changes between the cast from the night prior, the spell taking more energy as he worked his way through the incantation. It would wear on him, but it had to be done.
He could feel his palm sweat as seconds ticked by, his concentration wearing thin. Keeping at it was going to be the key- good thing he had never been one for giving up so easily.
[Rita! Sorry this is way late, man. D:]
no subject
"Perhaps we can," he said. He eyed her up and down one more time, judging her trustworthiness. It was impossible to tell, but he was a good judge of character. He had a hunch she spoke the truth, or what she believed was the truth. Perhaps she could be of assistance, after all. The cards were in his hand, now.
"As I'm sure you've surmised with your keen eye, I am not an adept magic caster." It was an admittance he felt he could and should make, especially if he wanted whatever aid her expertise could give him. While he wasn't happy to admit his incompetence, Edgar wasn't too proud to deny he was going to need help in learning to control the magic forced into him by the infusion. He trusted he could handle it on his own, with time; however, with someone who knew more about the inner workings of magic, even magic from another world, his chances of mastering his new condition with greater skill and speed improved. That was the important part, especially when time was not a luxury. That, and keeping his mind intact.
"My abilities came from a process called Magitek infusion," he continued. "Have you heard of it?"
no subject
"No, I haven't," Rita replied, shaking her head but not looking particularly discouraged. "What can you tell me about it?"
It sounded like Edgar wanted help in mastering his abilities - something that would be challenging for someone who'd never encountered that exact magic type before. Fortunately for both of them, that kind of challenge was right up Rita's alley. If she could get enough information on what the source and nature of that magic was, Rita was sure she could work out an efficient - or at the very least functional - spellcasting process.