tushanshu_logs | (no subject)

Characters: Haytham Kenway and you
Date: 3/31/2013
Location: a little bit of everywhere, more specifically fire sector and wood sector
Situation: Haytham's doing what the British do best, chilling and sticking his nose where it doesn't belong.
Warnings/Rating: nonya

Earth Sector;
[ ever seen someone utterly fascinated by mold? Whatever the answer to that question was, it is now yes, because Haytham is examining a growth of black mold with the scrutiny and devotion of an usher at the New York Symphony.

For a moment, it appears he's content to look, and not touch. Wait a few seconds more, and you'll spot him take out a knife to carve out a sliver of mold, complete with a nice chunk of tree along with it. If you wanted to stop and confront him about his lack of environmental concern, you need to hurry along because he's scaling up a tree, nearly about to make his escape in the treetops. ]

Fire Sector;
[ there is a quaint little console cafe Haytham is fond of visiting. Maybe it's the tea, which has become rather lackluster since the rationing, or the atmosphere, which unfortunately borders kitschy, or the unspoken understanding between the owner and Haytham that he should be left alone to his own devices at all times, or at least until he needed a cup refilled.

whatever the reason, it's one of Haytham's usual haunts, and today he's settled in a quiet corner with his journal laid out in front of him, quietly tapping his empty quill on the open page. If you're very observant, you'll notice a slight bump in the journal's pages, where his precursor amulet is safely tucked. ]

( ooc; BUG HIM IN ONE OF TWO PLACES. GO FORTH POR FAVOR )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hoarding.

[ Haytham corrects, because as far as he is concerned, 'storing food' is merely a euphemism for the cold hard truth. He finishes a sentence in his journal, waiting for the ink to dry before looking up at Sabriel. ]

Curious things, your bells. They're not just there for decoration.

[ nothing as simple as a bandoleer of bells would be secured so well. ]

[Sabriel starts at the mention of her bells, and runs her fingers over the handles.]

You're observant- and they're tools. [Sabriel rather doubted he'd know what they were tools for.]

I merely noted that you've taken seemingly good care of them.

[ if Sabriel told him they were tools used for necromancy, he'd laugh her all the way to the bank.... except not really. Haytham has an open mind when it comes to the extraordinary, but necromancy would still elicit a raised eyebrow ]

A musician?

[ a casual guess, but he senses he's completely off ]

[Sabriel laughs at the suggestion, although there's a certain amount of melancholy in it.]

No, no! Something a rather more dangerous than that- they're for necromancy. [She's spoken of it on the network, and she sees no reason to hide it- especially since she's used to the bells being a clear symbol of what she was, back in Ancelstierre and the Old Kingdom.]

Edited 2013-04-03 03:02 (UTC)

Necromancy.

[ Haytham does a very good job of keeping the doubt off his face, but even he can't stop himself from raising an eyebrow dubiously. He can believe in aliens, in powers unexplainable by science, but magic??

yeeeeeah ]

Surely you jest, unless the dead are silent aficionados of music.

[Sabriel's fingers trace out a small, glowing sigil that's quickly wiped away- just to make it perfectly clear she's being serious about the magic.]

The right sound can hold a great deal of power. [And not just over the Dead, unfortunately. The bells could also hold sway over the living, if sounded in a different manner.]

[ curious. it's reminds him both of the precursor artifacts, and something entirely new, something arcane. He's suspicious of course, but even suspicion can't override his curiosity. ]

Fascinating.

[ there's no sarcasm, no condescending tone. ]

Is the power specific to your set, or is it simply the combination of magic and bell?

Part of the power is in the bells, part of it within me- I can use magic without them, but they're the best way to control the Dead, and force them to truly die.

[Conveniently not mentioning that they can also be used to raise the Dead, but Haytham's curiousity isn't making her uncomfortable yet.]

A hereditary skill, then.

[ he's familiar with abilities that only super cool people get, and he's met enough to form a club. He motions to the chair across his table, realizing that he's made Sabriel stand this entire time. ]

I apologize— I've taken up a good portion of your time.

Part of it, at least. [The other part Sabriel could probably teach most people. Sabriel takes the offered chair happily.]

It's all right, I seem to have found myself with more time than I know what to do with since I arrived here.