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I'm in a good mood. So, I think I should share my good mood with everyone! [In one of the ruins by La Llorona, Roa sat with his back to his locket, a number of the twisted trees with human-like faces shifting uneasily in his presence. He carried a lute with him, playing a few notes, interrupting the eerie silence that had otherwise been uncharacteristic of the swamp-lands. Not a toad croaked. Not a mouse squeaked. There was the lute for a moment, before a number of pallid looking spirits rose from the trees, moaning and writhing in front of Roa.]

This is a song from my world--a good one for the moment, I think! Now, before I get complaints about the lyrics-- it's more about the motif than the context...

[The ghosts wailed as Roa raised one hand to interrupt his lute-playing. He curled his fingers and they rolled in pain at his command.]

Like we practiced.

[The ghosts--in bad tune and tempo, all began singing Bob Dylan's 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door'. It was disjointed, lacked timing and none of the spirits understood the keys that had to be taken. Roa didn't mind it, though. He played his lute to set the beat and tempo even if the ghosts failed to accomplish the same. He stopped playing when the song was done, turning to give the locket a lazy sort of smile.]

Terrible, but we've got plenty of time to practice some more.

[The locket cut out.]

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Magic doesn't exist, back home.

[ More tugging, more pulling, more cursing slightly in French under her breath. That simple sentence should be more than sufficient for an answer, she thinks. ]

[Roa responded in French, fluently. He had an entire life then, anyway. Though, his French was more rustic and rural than anything Ariadne would hear in a city.]

Magic hides itself well. Ideally, your mindset is the one we all want folks to have.

[ It shouldn't surprise her when other people know the language, but somehow, in the Drabwurld, it always does. ]

I've heard that.

[ She'd argue the point but she's a little busy trying to get your psycho blood off her, Roa. ]

That's good.

[He spread his fingers, the shards of blood still embedded in Ariadne pulling themselves out all at once. The blood that was caked on her began to crack, dissolving on his command.]

It's boring to be secretive, isn't it? Otherwise, I can't chat with folks like this.

[He was absolutely comfortable where he was. Since he was certain Ariadne didn't have much combat experience, he didn't think she would take a second swing. All the same--he was comfortable being able to talk without blood gushing through his throat.]

[ That doesn't actually feel any better, but once it's all gone she breathes a little easier. A brief moment of hesitation and then she's using healing magic, making sure that she's whole and healthy. ]

I guess I've never been that secretive.

[ She has absolutely no idea what to make of all this. ]

I don't think you had a reason to, before this place.

[French wasn't a local language. That was all it took for him to tell. Further confirmation that only shard-holders could look at the 'lockets', as well.

Still, what Ariadne was doing surprised him. It was uncommon, where he came from.]

Though, you're getting more and more surprising. You have the mind to control two definitively different types of magic?

Maybe.

[ There was dreamsharing -- but even that was something she could talk to a select few people, the rest of the team, about. ]

I- yes?

[ It's all just magic to her. ]

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