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[ Politics and wars are one thing, but magic is quite another; some thirsts aren't slaked so easily by squabbling imps and gaudy fabric. Knowledge is power, and power is every wizard's disease.

Felix is far more rumpled than he'd like, and that hair won't unfrizz any time soon, but the words come calm as day: ]

It seems we've all been busy, so I suppose I ought to be brief.

Magic. If you'll indulge the melodramatic imagery, it's as myriad as a hydra's necks, and almost twice as difficult to pin down. Any sort of rigorous survey seems better left for days without a pounding headache. Perhaps instead, we might just speak.

Tell me what you know about magic. Stories, facts, vicious gossip if you're so disposed. Magic brought us each here, so let us be kind guests and oblige it the conversation.

[ He flashes a wide, tired smile. ]

Unfamiliarity is quite acceptable. I'd just like to hear it from you.

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[Swallows on his end of the line.

Doesn't sound as if it's what the gentleman wants to hear, and it wasn't specified as to whether it's Drabwurld magic or magic in general that's got his interest, but in case the latter, ah-ha he's staunch about his developed experience with and relevant to it...

Picks up dryly, softly, quickly, and sounding barely-teenage, but serious and earnest.]

Unholy. Corruptive, corrosive. Can be, but was not meant to be, wielded by man; drawn -- from pagan deities from other realms...

-- That's magic as I am familiar with its presence in the world I know. [Shaking his head perhaps a tad fidgetish.] -- I still know little about this world's magic, and -- I don't intend to know any more than I have to.

[ It's not the stupidest thing that he's ever heard. Powers know that magic can be dangerous -- though Felix is far more like to fear its users. Pagan deities are little without pagan worshipers. ]

Then you have my respect for speaking of it here. [ No he doesn't. Felix might recognize the bravery in broaching a difficult experience, but lack of curiousity remains a cardinal sin. Still, it's enough to spark his interest, and that's enough to fold the affectation of sympathy over his fascination. ] And my hopes that this realm's spells show you wide berth. Can the magic of your home be ignored?

Thank you, my lord. [Somewhat obligatory, and he takes the supposed expression of respect as possibly the same. Not backhanded, but obligatory.

And oh-ho, lack of curiosity isn't the issue here, at all - "as much as I have to" is a rather deliberately flexible and easy to loosely-define restriction.]

-- Perhaps not ignored, but it's only very few who've knowledge. Of it.

Its practitioners -- who I am sure still exist -- and by that I mean the cults of the Ancients, as there are those not among them who have used magic - including myself...

[He's taken a decided detour there - pauses, pulls himself back on track.] -- Pardon me. The followers of the Ancients do not practice it openly.

If one outside of them is allowed to know it, to ignore it would be -- iniquitous, if not dangerous.

[ Obligatory or not, he's pleased as punch to finally receive a proper honorific around here. Of course, he could remedy that by flaunting his titles a bit more, but what good is attention if you have to ask for it? ]

Wise of them -- for as short a length as that will stretch; 'unholy and corrosive' make for rather more pyres than dinner invitations. [ Why yes, he is still a bit vexed with Cesare. ] You embraced it, I take?

I, ahh -- didn't have much of a choice. [Restrained head-shake again. Thin and ambivalent. Honestly, heavens, no, he wouldn't say he embraced it. He'd tripped a trap that there wasn't any escaping, did what anyone should do to find it made no difference, and only later got confirmation he did in fact fulfill a duty.

Ambivalence and light earnestness hold. It is - still really nothing to be proud of, God forbid it sounds as if he's trying to honor himself for any amount of having tried; skews the wording.] -- The Ancients' cults sought to kill the Emperor of my country, and I came close enough to them to take a spell that I spent seven hundred years dying of.

[Hence the suspicion of magic. Much more so than lack of reasonable and rather morbid curiosity.]

[ How ghastly, is the first thought that springs to mind. Waiting seven hundred years intimates an absence of either will or creativity, comes the second. Neither seems worth voicing aloud. ]

A very great time to corrode. Were you successful?

[ In 'dying' or 'saving the Emperor', he doesn't specify. ]

Edited 2014-07-30 18:31 (UTC)

Someone else ended it. I'm thankful to him. [Took the juxtaposition of those two phrases as cue to answer that for "dying".] It had to be done.

This -- has strayed from the subject presented, my lord, I apologize.

[Or simply narrowed breadth from magic to cults to his experience with both. It's, ah-ha - probably an easy subject to start saying too much on for both sides' sakes unless it's of explicit curiosity or interest.]

You've nothing to apologize for, [ He seems to mean it, though pity doesn't creep into his tone. ] I do not mean to push you into old horrors.

[ Alright, maybe a little. Felix shakes his head, composing his thoughts. ]

Have you been here long?

Edited (htmlfail) 2014-08-01 07:20 (UTC)

For two months, my lord. [No pause, tension, or hitch. The apologize really was more out of the subject change itself as opposed to the unpleasantness - best to show it by proceeding, then, he's not that shaken up. Not to any extent he'll present, anyway.]

Not long. -- In comparison to others.

Long enough to take measure of the place. How do you find the courts, Messire -- ?

[ He supposes it might be good to get a name. ]

Er -- Anthony -- ...Only Anthony. [It's padded and docile, quick glance off to the corner - he supposes he can't make that a "please" or further qualify it, but oh dear no honorific at all warranted, surely.] My apologies...

[For getting this far without needing prompt to state his name!]

And it's only Seelie territory I've seen, and regrettably little of it. I've ff -- ...found it well. -- Enough, considering...

[Good heavens that's not an answer at all.]

Felix Harrowgate. It seems fair to keep to Felix in turn, doesn't it?

Caer Scima has struck grand enough, I should hope to see its twin some day. [ Casual, conversational talk. Then it twists in, and his voice is intently expectant. ] I beg your pardon, I didn't quite catch that. Considering...?

[Blink of a balk.]

Uh -- I apologize, my lord. [So much for keeping it to Felix!] Considering the uh -- the circumstances of our stay. Although -- it isn't as if -- as if we're being treated as anything less than - than honored guests.

Really, it's quite alright. There's no need for apology.

[ But he doesn't sound like he means it. Anthony's been fine enough, but he's starved for a chance to lord over someone. Guilt will catch up to him later. ]

You can build a cell as wide and grand as the world, but calling it freedom is still misnomer. Do you want to go back?

[And likewise, Anthony's finding a fairly natural place for civil deference oddly relieving, and so absolutely no cause for guilt assumed.]

I might. [Can do no better than tentative.] If it would be needed -- I suppose.

[That might be at a point between saying too little by one standard and by virtue of it saying too much for grace by another, hence a sort of padding-off, and his face twitches apologetic - leaves it there even clumsy as it is; he could return the question, but after, again, deferring, he's unsure if it'd come off as imprudent or nosing.]

Were I in your place, I certainly could not fault the hesitation.

[ But of course, they aren’t, and he can very well. Felix peers at Anthony, unblinking, his blue eye cold. He doesn’t mind pursuing the implied question, it asks nothing of him, and opens up further possibility to push forward. ]

I don’t take kindly to being kept, kindly or otherwise. The audacity of such tactics —

[ Felix shakes his head, expression flickering venomous to the side, away. ]

— I’ve a life’s work to see to.

[ The phrasing is 100% intentional, an off-hand bit of meanness he won’t even notice for an hour yet. With that bit of spite shaken loose, his tone again calms, softening almost affectionately as he readdresses Anthony.]

There are others waiting; my brother, the Curia... my absence will be noted. As I'm certain yours would be here, [ He adds, almost on afterthought. ] You've been nothing but kind and forthcoming, and I truthfully must thank you for that.

[He tries not to flinch, at the peering - and he fails, but negligibly. A slight and not instant downward-tensing of his brow; an exhale that he was particularly aware of, any difference in length or audibility there or not.

It shifts into a small nod at what comes next, and another - doesn't entirely lift out of the second. Suspects that it was intended to sound as it does, the point of life. Internal twinge at deliberate acknowledgement; any tiny bit of spite or sort of punishment that can be slung his way, he can't exactly do more than take - can't even complain or take offense, and so he doesn't.

Does straighten back up again when Felix's tone shifts - everything lifts again, out of uncertain curiosity. Thins his lips and downcasts his eyes in equally-uncertain acknowledgement at "I'm certain yours would be here", and once room seems open for him to take his turn, blundering on into it:]

-- I've been nothing, my lord. But ah -- thank you.

It's -- [Just before the most active part of a filler swallow. This is obvious, this is useless, this means nothing, but it's acknowledged, hopefully the expression of that is conveyed as sincere, if nothing better than that.] -- regrettable that. -- You are among those being kept, from...

Business. Of import...

To the contrary, Anthony,

[ It's a small smile, but brilliant, lighting up his whole face; shining at Anthony like there's just no one else around Felix would smile for. ]

Otherwise we never would have met.

[ He'll flash it at at least three other people tonight. ]

[Ohh, he's appropriately stunned and cowed by hat - and ah-ha, even if Anthony knew that, he's inclined no less as some manner of offering.

He pulls a smile likewise, also small - bit of a twist here and there throughout his face out of sheepishness and a sort of wry and self-directed unspecific humor, dips his head a little, brow knits a tad when his voice comes back up.]

-- You honor me, my lord; I've done nothing but -- occupy your time. [In a spirit to match what's fueling his look; hopefully that's both sufficiently sincere and sufficiently politely-conversational rather than overdone as far as expression of self-deprecation can be. A straighter nod.] But thank you.

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