Date: 2016-03-17 01:25 am (UTC)
utselet: (i wanted)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She nods and leans forward urgently, her heartbeat picking up a little as she scans the book. She needs this, maybe even more than she herself realizes. She needs to feel like she's accomplishing something here. And yet, there's a little current of fear there, too, a little voice asking her if she's really going to go through with this.

But she's never listened to that voice before, for better or worse, and she ignores it now. She holds up her hands in what she thinks feels like the right position, her fingers bent uncomfortably. "Yes?"

Date: 2016-03-17 09:24 pm (UTC)
utselet: (until i die)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She looks increasingly incredulous as the spell becomes more complex, but she tries to follow the movements of his hands, warping her own into the positions she's learned. She mumbles the tongue twister under her breath until she's sure she has it down, and then she tries to run everything through together, and--

--nothing. Not the first time, nor the second. She lets out a despairing little sound, the flush of frustration rising in her cheeks. It's only with a great deal of self-control that she holds back from an outburst.

Date: 2016-03-18 11:25 pm (UTC)
utselet: (than i thought)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, trying to settle herself. When she's calm, she tries it again, being careful with the timing, staring intently at her hands to be sure they're doing what they should be. And--

"Quentin," she whines when absolutely nothing happens yet again, her shoulders slumping. Her eyes sting with helpless exasperation, but she blinks it back, rubbing her temples. "I--" She cuts off, shaking her head, holding out her hands. "Again," she echoes unhappily. "I know."

It ends up taking six attempts, by which time she's so wound up that she actually shrieks when she sees the steam suddenly blossom from her cup, pressing her hands to her mouth.

Date: 2016-03-19 02:50 pm (UTC)
utselet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] utselet

She does feel a little weak, though she's not totally sure if it's from effort or from shock. There's a stubborn streak of pride in her that won't let her just drop in front of him, so she sinks down carefully and steadily into her chair, staring at the steaming cup. She hesitates, then reaches out to touch it, giving another tiny jump when she feels the heat.

"What happens if I do that somewhere else?" she asks. "To a piece of paper, or-- I don't know. To light a cigarette?"

Date: 2016-03-20 05:55 pm (UTC)
utselet: (until i die)
From: [personal profile] utselet
Her excitement fades a little. She looks from him to the cup and back again, brow furrowing.

"That's it?" she asks, sounding rather less impressed. All that work for something she could have done in less time with a microwave?

Date: 2016-03-20 09:33 pm (UTC)
utselet: (i will leave my mark)
From: [personal profile] utselet
"How many?" she asks, even though she knows it was largely rhetorical. Really, though -- she wants to know. The exhilaration is waning quickly, dismay and exhaustion bubbling up to fill the gap. How long and how hard is she going to have to slave over this, again?

She looks back at him. "I don't need to control firefly with my mind," she says plaintively.

Date: 2016-03-21 01:28 pm (UTC)
utselet: (i was here)
From: [personal profile] utselet
Nina takes a deep breath and nods, calming herself. "That makes sense," she agrees, sounding a little apologetic. She really doesn't mean to be as difficult about it as she knows she is.

She thinks for a moment, reaching out to touch the teacup lightly, feeling its heat through the ceramic. "I just want to be able to protect myself here," she murmurs. "That's still all I really want. I just don't want to be so afraid anymore."

Date: 2016-03-21 06:28 pm (UTC)
utselet: (i wanted)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She mulls this over. It would work in a fight, in a pinch, but not all of the dangers she fears are quite like that. Not necessarily things that can be cured by knocking one person out one time -- neither in these close quarters, nor out in the world where any bid for freedom means being hunted.

"Could you make me disappear?" she asks suddenly, twisting around to look back up at him. "Or-- could I do that? Is that possible?"

Date: 2016-03-21 10:09 pm (UTC)
utselet: (i was here)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She doesn't even really have time to be disappointed before he turns into some kind of sugar plum fairy before her eyes -- which makes it rather difficult to concentrate on what he says next, but she does get the gist. Not that, then.

"Maybe fainting to start with, then," she concedes. "Now change back -- you're freaking me out."

Date: 2016-03-21 10:35 pm (UTC)
utselet: (it would be)
From: [personal profile] utselet
"That might be nice," she admits, a small smile returning to her face. "But that's for fun, yes? This--"

She gestures to the cup, framing it with one of Popper's terrible positions. "This is for work."

Date: 2016-03-21 11:48 pm (UTC)
utselet: (everything that)
From: [personal profile] utselet
She blinks owlishly. "Yes, I suppose. I hadn't thought of it that way."

She enjoys the Enclosure trips -- loves them, actually -- but she's started to keep them separate in her mind. With Quentin leading them as much as he does, they feel almost more like healing time than work; she usually comes out of them feeling happy and energized in a way she rarely does otherwise. Even with the teacup magic, the idea of doing it herself seems impossibly far away.

Date: 2016-03-23 04:49 pm (UTC)
utselet: (Default)
From: [personal profile] utselet

She nods and flashes him a taut but grateful smile. "Less danger."

She takes a breath and nods again, reaching for her teacup. "Maybe I could have turned into a starling during the flood and hidden away somewhere," she mutters ruefully.

Date: 2016-03-24 02:43 am (UTC)
utselet: (it would be)
From: [personal profile] utselet
"Well, when you take a bunch of people who are used to lying and force them to tell the truth to each other, it doesn't always go very well," she says dryly, sipping her tea.

It could have been worse, really, she knows. No one got violent with her, although there are definitely a few people who know she could take that a lot better than she lets on. She doesn't think anyone will really stop speaking to her, although there are a couple of dicey cases there. But mostly...

She sighs and shakes her head, absently brushing her hair back from her face. "It was tiring," she admits. "Very tiring."

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Quentin Coldwater

2025

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