Ysalwen Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden (
freedom_is_grey) wrote in
milliways_bar2015-03-11 06:30 pm
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After two (or more?) days in the library, stacking reference books all around her like the most flammable of forts, Ysalwen thinks she may have cobbled together a very crude scrying spell.
Okay, it's more like a dowsing spell, but whatever. It let her find Liranan, and some pencils that had gotten buried by piles of paper, and a demon bunny that fell asleep under her cloak when she went to take her mabari for a walk.
The question now is: how well is it going to work on things that are farther away than that, and what exact aspect common to all Jaegers is she going to try to pinpoint?
And is there a way to get rid of that annoying buzzing sensation in her hands when the spell goes off?
(Signs so far point to no.)
Which is why she's sitting at a corner table, surrounded by schematics and engineering diagrams that she doesn't really understand, tapping the end of a pen against her lip.
It's worse than trying to piece together ancient Elvhen from broken signposts and burnt pages.
Hmm.
Okay, it's more like a dowsing spell, but whatever. It let her find Liranan, and some pencils that had gotten buried by piles of paper, and a demon bunny that fell asleep under her cloak when she went to take her mabari for a walk.
The question now is: how well is it going to work on things that are farther away than that, and what exact aspect common to all Jaegers is she going to try to pinpoint?
And is there a way to get rid of that annoying buzzing sensation in her hands when the spell goes off?
(Signs so far point to no.)
Which is why she's sitting at a corner table, surrounded by schematics and engineering diagrams that she doesn't really understand, tapping the end of a pen against her lip.
It's worse than trying to piece together ancient Elvhen from broken signposts and burnt pages.
Hmm.

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When he enters Milliways, he's looking for something to write on as he runs his hand through his hair and then stops at all the diagrams on her table, "What are those?"
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Ysalwen looks up, shoving hair out of her face as she smiles at Sameth.
"I'm trying to do a favor for a friend."
Or a fellow military commander.
Whichever.
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And these look sort of like larger versions of some of his toys but far more powerful.
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The Jaegers aren't really her business to talk about. Not explicitly.
Hmm.
"Do you know anything about scrying spells?"
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She's got one!
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"Hey, Ysalwen. What's that?"
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She huffs out a breath whose impatience is mainly directed at the magic, not Cyborg.
"But how do you distinguish one machine from another when they all share a vast multitude of commonalities?"
It is to despair.
"I'm getting a little tired of just managing to find lost pencils. And my dog."
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"And if you know how to read a schematic, you can tell what you need to know. Same as reading music. Assuming you know music."
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"I've read a lot of spellbooks."
She's just saying.
A bard she is not. Though she has friends who are.
"It's less the schematic and more -- I'm looking for information on more than just the dimensions. There are a lot of big things that can theoretically exist, and if they're machines they're probably made of metal, and there are probably a finite number of alloys available. Well. Or maybe not. Which. Hmm."
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"Andraste's ass, no. I'm exploring the garage here."
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Also shininess. (Court armor today.)
Finding himself in Milliways, he shrugs a little, amicably, and proceeds towards Bar. Anybody he knows and has friendly feelings towards gets a smile of greeting, if they happen to look his way. Ysalwen certainly counts.
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Twice.
Hi!
"Thor! You're looking very well-groomed today. No sparring in your recent past, I take it?"
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(He appreciates directness. Also, weird senses of humor.)
"Not since the morning."
"Should I ask the same of you? You have the air of a scholar today."
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Go figure.
"I have the air of a scholar every day, I'll have you know. Just -- other things occasionally get in the way of that."
She laughs.
"Does your world have scrying spells, that you known of?"
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Spells is sort of an archaic and nonspecific term, but a perfectly comprehensible one, and scrying is a sensible term in common use.
"I'm not much good at them, however."
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A sigh.
"And the bright signal light doesn't do wonders for my head, either. Plus it fades relatively quickly."
Alas.
"And it makes my hands vibrate."
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Yeah, Thor has nothing to say but a vaguely sympathetic grimace to that last bit.
"Relative proximity remains useful," he offers.
"It's location you're seeking, then?"
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She makes a face.
" -- walking around just seeing what's there is probably not an effective use of available manpower."
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