tiredcharmer (
tiredcharmer) wrote in
diatu2019-10-25 06:13 pm
Electric Boogaloo
Who: Tyzias and YOU!
Where: All around Anastara and Diatu
When: Late October
What: Tyzias arrives at Diatu and is thoroughly unimpressed.
Warnings: Curmudgeonliness abounds, lots of swearing.
attention, attention everyone
Anastara, being built around a Magicademy full of mischievous and/or incompetent students, is no stranger to ridiculous happenings. Especially in recent months with the arrival of the Sundered. As such, residents have a high tolerance for magical shenanigans and associated weirdness. But it is extremely difficult to simply ignore a round boulder being pulled at high speeds down the street by a pair of extremely large trolls.
Said trolls have at least a passing knowledge of traffic laws, so thankfully nobody is hurt. But an entrance like that draws attention—which is exactly what Tyzias doesn't want. When her chaffeurs crack the rock open at the academy, Tyzias tumbles out of her luxury transportation (really, it's quite posh inside, the Troll Lord of Okanes isn't a barbarian) and lands flat on her back before the gates of Diatu, staring at the sky.
After a twenty-three second sustained groan, Tyzias grumbles, "Sweet fucking Sufferer, Grumbrig, I know you wanted to give me the 'royal treatment' but that's a little overboard." She laboriously tries to pull herself to her feet. And fails. "Fuuuuuuuck dust got all in my shirt fuck fuck fuck HEY YOU CAN YOU HELP ME UP HERE"
see through bloodshot eyes
Now that she's finally someplace that might be able to get her on track to find some answers, there's no way in... whatever this world's punitive afterlife is that Tyzias is going to waste it on something as trivial as sleep. So it is that it's three AM in the morning and she's still poring through dozens of books by flashlight in the common room, mumbling to herself in a haze as she flips through page after page. Her choice of reading material is eclectic: basic textbooks for beginning mages, advanced theses on Intimation, a few tomes about Sundering, swathes of world history, Osmarius grammar, prayer books, and more. Tyzias is practically buried in a blanket of notes.
Then she sweeps her arm across the table to diagram a High Osmarius phrase, accidentally hits a stack of books, and it all comes tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down. While she doesn't go down with the ship, all of Tyzias's study material crash to the floor. The thud that echoes through the hallways is deafening.
Tyzias muffles her scream by planting her face on the table, then sighs, hauls herself to her feet after much effort, and begins slowly putting everything back in order as she braces herself for the inevitable mob of furious students who were just aroused by the chaos. Hopefully whoever finds her first isn't too angry...
wwwwhen you held the knife
Tyzias looks at the supply list in her hand, then at the rack of wands, then at the list again, then she groans. "You know what would've been fantastic? If Teach actually told me what I needed for class. Outlined a clear, concise list of Factors that I need to make the magic shit happen. But no. 'Discovery foci.' What am I supposed to get? Bat guano? I mean, okay, I know that all I need is a book and a wand, I'm not that dumb, but what wand? The one that magically calls out to me or some shit?" Tyzias throws up her hands in frustration.
"You. You have any idea how I'm supposed to pick one of these things? I know this place's reputation, there's no way I'm just gonna snag one off of the shelf there and call it a day."
Where: All around Anastara and Diatu
When: Late October
What: Tyzias arrives at Diatu and is thoroughly unimpressed.
Warnings: Curmudgeonliness abounds, lots of swearing.
attention, attention everyone
Anastara, being built around a Magicademy full of mischievous and/or incompetent students, is no stranger to ridiculous happenings. Especially in recent months with the arrival of the Sundered. As such, residents have a high tolerance for magical shenanigans and associated weirdness. But it is extremely difficult to simply ignore a round boulder being pulled at high speeds down the street by a pair of extremely large trolls.
Said trolls have at least a passing knowledge of traffic laws, so thankfully nobody is hurt. But an entrance like that draws attention—which is exactly what Tyzias doesn't want. When her chaffeurs crack the rock open at the academy, Tyzias tumbles out of her luxury transportation (really, it's quite posh inside, the Troll Lord of Okanes isn't a barbarian) and lands flat on her back before the gates of Diatu, staring at the sky.
After a twenty-three second sustained groan, Tyzias grumbles, "Sweet fucking Sufferer, Grumbrig, I know you wanted to give me the 'royal treatment' but that's a little overboard." She laboriously tries to pull herself to her feet. And fails. "Fuuuuuuuck dust got all in my shirt fuck fuck fuck HEY YOU CAN YOU HELP ME UP HERE"
see through bloodshot eyes
Now that she's finally someplace that might be able to get her on track to find some answers, there's no way in... whatever this world's punitive afterlife is that Tyzias is going to waste it on something as trivial as sleep. So it is that it's three AM in the morning and she's still poring through dozens of books by flashlight in the common room, mumbling to herself in a haze as she flips through page after page. Her choice of reading material is eclectic: basic textbooks for beginning mages, advanced theses on Intimation, a few tomes about Sundering, swathes of world history, Osmarius grammar, prayer books, and more. Tyzias is practically buried in a blanket of notes.
Then she sweeps her arm across the table to diagram a High Osmarius phrase, accidentally hits a stack of books, and it all comes tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down. While she doesn't go down with the ship, all of Tyzias's study material crash to the floor. The thud that echoes through the hallways is deafening.
Tyzias muffles her scream by planting her face on the table, then sighs, hauls herself to her feet after much effort, and begins slowly putting everything back in order as she braces herself for the inevitable mob of furious students who were just aroused by the chaos. Hopefully whoever finds her first isn't too angry...
wwwwhen you held the knife
Tyzias looks at the supply list in her hand, then at the rack of wands, then at the list again, then she groans. "You know what would've been fantastic? If Teach actually told me what I needed for class. Outlined a clear, concise list of Factors that I need to make the magic shit happen. But no. 'Discovery foci.' What am I supposed to get? Bat guano? I mean, okay, I know that all I need is a book and a wand, I'm not that dumb, but what wand? The one that magically calls out to me or some shit?" Tyzias throws up her hands in frustration.
"You. You have any idea how I'm supposed to pick one of these things? I know this place's reputation, there's no way I'm just gonna snag one off of the shelf there and call it a day."

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"Looks like you got the hang of it with that one. It felt all right?"
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"Yeah. Yeah, I think this'll work." She shambles over to the register, pulling a massive sack of gold from absolutely nowhere and terrifying the poor clerk, already shaken at her demonic appearance, even further. Tyzias yawns, rolling her shoulders as they ring it up.
"Right, Dust. You have a copy of, uh..." She stares blankly into the distance, eyes flicking back and forth, "Principles of High Osmarian Grammar, Collected Volumes 1-12? Hard to get my hands on because of, you know, people are just a bit leery of anything associated with Sundering, even though it's literally just a language. Need it for some research."
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"Trade you. I'm terrible at math."
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"Then.. why not phrase all your Intimation spells as legal sort of things? A contract between you and the gods. Would that be better?"
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...although Tyzias has to admit that she almost relishes the academic challenge presented to her. "Hey, you think you could show me a few more of those sword techs in the training yard or something? I could use a few pointers on wand technique, I don't think my movements are precise enough. These hands are made for note-taking, not for casting." Not strictly true, but Tyzias does need more examples of what swordcasting actually looks like.
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But he nodded. "I had a huge problem with that when I started. When I'm writing the runes and making the gestures on the small scale, it's fine, but on a larger one I really wasn't being precise enough. I can show you that."
cut to training yard?
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"By the way, I should introduce you..." Before one of them introduced themselves. Dust drew his two swords, then lifted the one that glowed with blue runes. "This is Ahrah. And Furae." That was, of course, the one with red runes.
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Dust's swords are quite fancy, even by Vaikunthan standards. Nice and symmetrical too; they look like part of a proper gear set. Not like Caledfwlch and Dragon's Spine. Saying hello is a little weird, but everybody has their idiosyncracies and Tyzias is definitely in no place to criticize.
She offers the swords a mock salute. "Yo."
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"Greetings, Tyzias," said the other sword with the same flickering, though Ahrah's voice was far more calm and measured.
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All weapons need to be shown respect, in her opinion. Tyzias isn't a superstitious troll by nature, of course. It's just common sense to treat the tools that save her life on a regular basis with a little more decorum than how she conducts herself normally. And if they start talking, well... all the more reason to give them the respect they deserve.
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"So... you wanted to see the big movements, huh?"
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Dust took several steps back, then turned to face perpendicular to her as he dropped into a combat crouch: right hand and Ahrah held back, left arm and Furae crossing in front of him.
A slight rock onto the balls of his feet, and Dust blurred into motion. His style made great sweeps out of strokes of his blade, with twists and swift changes of direction that bode no good for anyone in range. Tyzias could see the tips of the blade cutting through a sigil for fire.
With the last line drawn, he flipped backwards and kicked one foot out to hit the center of the rune. A roar of flame erupted from thin air, gushing forth before dissipating just as quickly.
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This is Tyzias's specialty: mentally tearing apart every flaw in her opponent's technique, then striking in the brief moments that they're unguarded. Or, failing that, prying open an opportunity herself.
The most important observation she makes is the movements needed for the fire spell, though. After a moment of consideration, Tyzias tests the weight of her wand and replicates Dust's magic circle, wielding the wand like a blade.
A burst of fire erupts from the circle and into the air. It's not as powerful as Dust's, of course, but there's more force there than somebody who's completely inexperienced in the ways of magic should be capable of. Tyzias exhales and locks eyes with Dust. "Aight. I think I get it. Could you show me a different spell?"
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Naturally this wasn't the way Dust normally fought, but it was closer than she might normally think.
For Dust's part -- yeah, she picked up the technique a lot faster and more precisely than he had at first. He'd be jealous, except her technique was still more subdued than his by far. Still, between that and the earlier thump when she sat down, he was swiftly reassessing his initial appraisals of her. There was more to her than the more to her that didn't meet the eye.
(Good luck locking eyes with that hat he wears, though!)
"Sure." What spell, hmm. Okay.
Rather than stay in place, this time Dust sprang forwards, a massive backhand slash with Ahrah swiftly moving into a spinning forehand slash with Furae. "Deflect!" he said, bringing Ahrah in an overhand arc that veered off sharply, the Thaumaturgical gesture that went with the Deflect spell. A shield hummed into existence in front of him for just a moment, but that would do if a magical attack came at him right in the middle of his physical one.
sorry if the prose is weird, it's been a long day
In the middle of Dust's spell kata, Tyzias's wrist twirls, she mutters "light," and a globe of glowing gold light flies from her wand and towards one of the few weak spots she thinks she's found in his form. On further inspection, while she shares pure speed and momentum with Dust, her strength was in precision while his was in raw power. Tyzias fights with not a single flourish, not a single millimeter of unnecessary movement, while Dust... well, it looks intimidating, but he's expending far more energy than he needs.
Granted, much of that was likely due to his sword forms acting as a conduit for the magic, but still. It's an obvious weakness.
It's all good!
The ball of light zipped into it, and rather than beaning him, it multiplied into forty or so of itself, all whirling around in the vortex.
"Really, Tyzias?"
But he was more amused than anything as he caught Ahrah's hilt again, letting the balls of light scatter in all directions.
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End thread?
o7