Post by Mittens Mckittens on Mar 30, 2024 12:25:39 GMT
Following immediately on from the adventure summarised in Closure
Co-written with the wonderful dee
“Well that’s not the strangest sight we’ve had ending off an adventure,” Mittens said as both he and Calla waved off the earth golem driven wooden wagon bearing the rest of their companions along with the newly demonically formed and now homeless figure of Pandro the Powerful towards Daring Heights. “Do you think they’ll have an opening for him at The Academy?”
"Oh I don't doubt it. My only worry is that he might be more trouble than he's worth. I suppose we'll find out in a season or two!"
Calla smiles warily, before looking over to a distant hill. "I need to get back, but I should show my face in New Hillborrow first. I wouldn't mind the company if you fancy a walk? Maybe a meal at the Inn?"
“Oh, sure thing!” Mittens responds with a smile, straightening the new circlet on his brow before turning to accompany Calla down the wagon track towards the nearby village. “I need an excuse to stay out of Fort Ettin anyway before I build up another milktab.”
"So whatcha gotta check in on at New Hillborrow, something academic-related?"
"Um, not exactly", without a missed breath Calla switches to Sylvan, "but I've been living out of Orianna's place for too long. She's too good to me, I've been working on somewhere that's mine".
Mittens doesn’t miss a beat with Calla’s linguistic change, replying with perfect feywildian tone. “Ah that’s the clever gal friend of yours from the academy isn’t she-the one you’re helping out with the dragons right?”
There's a bitter pause before Calla returns to a quiet Common, "Uh huh. That's what I thought". She shakes her head and sucks her teeth before looking Mittens dead in the eye, "When it all goes to absolute shit, just remember that I tried to warn you, okay?". She throws up her hands, "And that I hate your accent. But fine, have it your way. You've certainly put an impressive amount of effort in". Calla pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath, switching back into a Sylvan that's darkly voluble and archaic compared to that of her friend. "Indeed she is. And yes, I've been 'helping her out with the dragons': a statement which wildly misuses the definite article, but is correct, if not accurate". She takes another, deeper breath, almost visibly working out the tension in her body with it, before adopting a gentler tone. "And you? How are the rest of your studies coming along?"
Mittens has stayed standing at the spot Calla pinned him to with her warning gaze, his soft still very child-like face impassive in response to her ‘exasperated’ revelation of his new vernacular knowledge despite her many-many-many warnings. “Ah I see, please forgive my naive-vet-tey ‘Miss’ Calla,” Mittens then suddenly proceeds, walking towards her whilst pronouncing his Slyvan with perfect poise, his tongue almost relishing each word as it caresses their syllables. “Please know any presupposed impertinence was not my intention.” He stops to pat her on the arm gently as in acknowledgement of his misdeed, before walking on a few steps, paws clasped firmly, behind his back and head held high in an almost ‘wistful’ manner. “As for my ‘dabbles’ in arcane arts they are proceeding well enough-I even managed to banish a rather …"
"Beastly bugger.." Mittens stumbles out with, in a much more familiar sounding form of his country twang after a moment of pause before attempting to plough on as if it didn't happen with his regained ponce. "-with one of my latest spell achievements upon a visit to the Shadowfell."
He gives a long drawn out sigh, his tail and ears dipping. “It does appear though that Mr Archie is right, and my lack of a teacher and the many ‘distractions’ of the ‘Material Plane’ have left a few glaring gaps…Perhaps I need to.. ‘enhance’ the focus of my studies. Move to the Feywild-Find a new teacher there p-p-erhaps?”
He stumbles on the last word, unable to hold back the laughter anymore that's been fighting to burst out of him, his poised pose breaking as he fully doubles over.
“I uh, definitely wouldn’t move over there anytime soon” It’s not clear if she understands she’s being made fun of, but Calla’s expression is a weird mix of pensive and guilty, “Summer and Winter may be fully at war by the end of the year, and who knows how that will go”.
“Wait, you went to the Shadowfell?”
Mittens straightens up from his chuckle, not really hearing her mention of the impending war as he wipes away a tear before he responds with a much more-Mittens-sounding tone in Slyvan. “I was joking Calla! Oh you should’ve seen your face! I’m not gonna go moving over to the Feywild- talking all high and mighty like that! It’d drive me nuts. I asked Violet to teach me how to do it in our last lesson-just for a laugh! She’s a very good teacher!” He walks back over to her. “Yeah ended up over there for a blegh-love mission-end of last year! Very strange place, maybe even stranger than the Feywild! Have ya been before?”
The moment it’s 100% clear that her friend is joking, Calla relaxes the rest of the way, and is almost immediately asking questions: “I haven’t! Strange how? Tell me everything!”.
"Well it was a bit...Well..mellow?" Mittens starts, struggling to find the right words as they continue their walk. "All the folks were like, extremely calm-bit posh-but also like really reserved without trying to be. 'The Court of Equanimity'-That's what our hirer-Antimony Apropos called the place we went to...'With good and bad things you will experience calmness and one way to appreciate it all...' "
“That doesn’t sound like your kind of thing at all”
"Nah it wasn't to be fair. Thought we were going to help find some magical mcguffin, but it just turned out to be a love sick bad-poet who went off moping in a cave cause he couldn't deal with him and his girlfriend having a bit of personal-space. He attracted some unwanted company we had to take care of. Not the most interesting job but least I got to use me tracking skills me Pa taught me. Earned this shiny new circlet." He ends, tapping the blue gemstone inlaid ring around his brow with a claw.
"It's very nice! I have to say," Calla steps to the side and tilts her head to look properly at her friend, "With the swords, and the book, you really are becoming the very image of a Dawnlands adventurer". She mutters a word in primordial, something that sounds vaguely like a 'well' or a 'wow', before putting a hand on Mittens' shoulder. "I dare say you don't need any help from me at all these days".
Mittens easily caught the characteristic arcane gleam on his friends glasses lenses, a cue that no matter how subtly Calla did her spell casting was now a dead give away for him-she’d just given him a temporary blessing of some sort. He gave Calla a wide smile whilst working out the best way to go about trying something..well..just a little joke at her expense…Aha..purfect.
Suddenly flames licked around Mittens body, his throat giving off a sputtering hiss as he backed away from Calla, clutching his shoulder whilst his form was shrouded in black smog.
"Nnnnnooo-w-what have you dddooonnne to me-Agck!?!" His intended echoey and demonic sounding voice failed him as he promptly stubbed his foot on a rock protruding by the roadside.
"Bugger that hurt!!" He yowled, his body still wreathed in its illusionary shroud of smog and scarlet flames, albeit not as imposing as before as he wobbled on one foot whilst rubbing the other.
It's rare that Calla laughs, but she can't help herself in front of the absurd image of her incendiary friend. What starts as fingers at the bridge of her nose quickly turns into a suppressed chuckle, then shaking across her shoulders, and then full bodied hilarity.
She barely wheezes out a healing word, and then has to stop-in-stride, doubled over, both hands on her knees.
"C-calla?" Mittens stops wobbling, the spell shroud slipping down from around his head as he looks down at his friend's wheezing fit beside him, a curious half amused-half puzzled expression on his face. "A-are you, laughing?"
There's a brief, and weirdly silent pause as Calla's fingers tense into her knees, then she stands up, eyes narrowed, mouth all but a flat line. "I don't know what you mean. Are you okay?" Her cheeks are entirely flushed, practically running with tears. Her forehead shines with sweat. The speed with which she's regained her composure is so intense it's almost absurd... but evidence littered across her face thoroughly betrays the last few seconds. She's not even corrected her glamour. There. There again. Just the tiniest of twitches at the edge of her lips. The smallest smile fighting for dear life.
Mittens lets the rest of his illusion fall, the crackling flames snuffing out and rippling smog vanishing as quickly as they appeared leaving him feeling a bit silly as he lowers his still throbbing hind paw to the road. "It-it's just..well..that wasn't quite the reaction I was expecting from you.."
He stares at her face curiously for a second…
"Ya sure you're alright?" He asks, blinking with one eye and then the other as if clearing residual illusion magic from his eyes.
"Oh... " she chokes down a snort, "...absolutely. Your glamour's coming along nicely". That twitch still hasn't fully subsided.
"Oh, well wasn't really a glamour, just more an advanced casting of Major illusion whilst keeping the idea of disguised self, blending the two methods together as seamlessly as possible to create a creature focused illusionary effect...Pretty simple really." He says without batting an eyelid, still peering at her.
And then it hit him. "Calla..Are you.. wearing a glamour?" He blurts out almost instantly upon finally clocking the unusually dishevelled look of his friend's appearance.
She responds before she really thinks about it, still a suppressed tone of mirth in her voice, “Of course, for months now, the best Ward is one no one even knows you have. There’s almost no point in wearing armour if everyone sees it. How are you supposed to protect anyone that way? It’s really not so uncommon for… I mean, among… it’s… “ She falters for a moment, hilarity gone. “Yes, I’m wearing a glamour”.
Mittens stares back at her, any feeling of humour now gone as he sees Calla's discomfort. "Can I ask why?" He ventures gingerly.
“I guess I learned how to do it… and it’s… easier?”. She shrugs. “I’m not very good at talking to people sometimes. And I’m not always very likeable. And sometimes, like now, I’m wearing a lot of armour. Sometimes, I guess, I just don’t look very friendly”. Calla gestures downward at herself. “But if people see this and they think they know what they’re getting, that certainty really helps. They think, ‘Ah yes, the mapmaker, the wizard’ and they know what to do with that, and then I know how to talk to them. It's not all of me, but it's the bit we can meet around to do business".
Mittens listens to his friend, the always business-like academic manner she upholds clear in her words but also a tinge of sadness he can’t ignore. Before Calla had even noticed the young kitten has moved forward to wrap his arms around her, his head nestled gently against her chest. His motions are not hindered by the clink of her armour beyond her illusion. “I think you’re likeable, Calla.” Mittens says simply.
Calla freezes, not at all used to being hugged, and then very gently, as if trying not to scare off a wild animal, returns the motion. "I... uh, you're also very... yes. Well, you know". She relaxes just a little. "Maybe I don't have to do it all the time".
All the same, the glamour remains.
Co-written with the wonderful dee
“Well that’s not the strangest sight we’ve had ending off an adventure,” Mittens said as both he and Calla waved off the earth golem driven wooden wagon bearing the rest of their companions along with the newly demonically formed and now homeless figure of Pandro the Powerful towards Daring Heights. “Do you think they’ll have an opening for him at The Academy?”
"Oh I don't doubt it. My only worry is that he might be more trouble than he's worth. I suppose we'll find out in a season or two!"
Calla smiles warily, before looking over to a distant hill. "I need to get back, but I should show my face in New Hillborrow first. I wouldn't mind the company if you fancy a walk? Maybe a meal at the Inn?"
“Oh, sure thing!” Mittens responds with a smile, straightening the new circlet on his brow before turning to accompany Calla down the wagon track towards the nearby village. “I need an excuse to stay out of Fort Ettin anyway before I build up another milktab.”
"So whatcha gotta check in on at New Hillborrow, something academic-related?"
"Um, not exactly", without a missed breath Calla switches to Sylvan, "but I've been living out of Orianna's place for too long. She's too good to me, I've been working on somewhere that's mine".
Mittens doesn’t miss a beat with Calla’s linguistic change, replying with perfect feywildian tone. “Ah that’s the clever gal friend of yours from the academy isn’t she-the one you’re helping out with the dragons right?”
There's a bitter pause before Calla returns to a quiet Common, "Uh huh. That's what I thought". She shakes her head and sucks her teeth before looking Mittens dead in the eye, "When it all goes to absolute shit, just remember that I tried to warn you, okay?". She throws up her hands, "And that I hate your accent. But fine, have it your way. You've certainly put an impressive amount of effort in". Calla pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath, switching back into a Sylvan that's darkly voluble and archaic compared to that of her friend. "Indeed she is. And yes, I've been 'helping her out with the dragons': a statement which wildly misuses the definite article, but is correct, if not accurate". She takes another, deeper breath, almost visibly working out the tension in her body with it, before adopting a gentler tone. "And you? How are the rest of your studies coming along?"
Mittens has stayed standing at the spot Calla pinned him to with her warning gaze, his soft still very child-like face impassive in response to her ‘exasperated’ revelation of his new vernacular knowledge despite her many-many-many warnings. “Ah I see, please forgive my naive-vet-tey ‘Miss’ Calla,” Mittens then suddenly proceeds, walking towards her whilst pronouncing his Slyvan with perfect poise, his tongue almost relishing each word as it caresses their syllables. “Please know any presupposed impertinence was not my intention.” He stops to pat her on the arm gently as in acknowledgement of his misdeed, before walking on a few steps, paws clasped firmly, behind his back and head held high in an almost ‘wistful’ manner. “As for my ‘dabbles’ in arcane arts they are proceeding well enough-I even managed to banish a rather …"
He gives a long drawn out sigh, his tail and ears dipping. “It does appear though that Mr Archie is right, and my lack of a teacher and the many ‘distractions’ of the ‘Material Plane’ have left a few glaring gaps…Perhaps I need to.. ‘enhance’ the focus of my studies. Move to the Feywild-Find a new teacher there p-p-erhaps?”
He stumbles on the last word, unable to hold back the laughter anymore that's been fighting to burst out of him, his poised pose breaking as he fully doubles over.
“I uh, definitely wouldn’t move over there anytime soon” It’s not clear if she understands she’s being made fun of, but Calla’s expression is a weird mix of pensive and guilty, “Summer and Winter may be fully at war by the end of the year, and who knows how that will go”.
“Wait, you went to the Shadowfell?”
Mittens straightens up from his chuckle, not really hearing her mention of the impending war as he wipes away a tear before he responds with a much more-Mittens-sounding tone in Slyvan. “I was joking Calla! Oh you should’ve seen your face! I’m not gonna go moving over to the Feywild- talking all high and mighty like that! It’d drive me nuts. I asked Violet to teach me how to do it in our last lesson-just for a laugh! She’s a very good teacher!” He walks back over to her. “Yeah ended up over there for a blegh-love mission-end of last year! Very strange place, maybe even stranger than the Feywild! Have ya been before?”
The moment it’s 100% clear that her friend is joking, Calla relaxes the rest of the way, and is almost immediately asking questions: “I haven’t! Strange how? Tell me everything!”.
"Well it was a bit...Well..mellow?" Mittens starts, struggling to find the right words as they continue their walk. "All the folks were like, extremely calm-bit posh-but also like really reserved without trying to be. 'The Court of Equanimity'-That's what our hirer-Antimony Apropos called the place we went to...'With good and bad things you will experience calmness and one way to appreciate it all...' "
“That doesn’t sound like your kind of thing at all”
"Nah it wasn't to be fair. Thought we were going to help find some magical mcguffin, but it just turned out to be a love sick bad-poet who went off moping in a cave cause he couldn't deal with him and his girlfriend having a bit of personal-space. He attracted some unwanted company we had to take care of. Not the most interesting job but least I got to use me tracking skills me Pa taught me. Earned this shiny new circlet." He ends, tapping the blue gemstone inlaid ring around his brow with a claw.
"It's very nice! I have to say," Calla steps to the side and tilts her head to look properly at her friend, "With the swords, and the book, you really are becoming the very image of a Dawnlands adventurer". She mutters a word in primordial, something that sounds vaguely like a 'well' or a 'wow', before putting a hand on Mittens' shoulder. "I dare say you don't need any help from me at all these days".
Mittens easily caught the characteristic arcane gleam on his friends glasses lenses, a cue that no matter how subtly Calla did her spell casting was now a dead give away for him-she’d just given him a temporary blessing of some sort. He gave Calla a wide smile whilst working out the best way to go about trying something..well..just a little joke at her expense…Aha..purfect.
Suddenly flames licked around Mittens body, his throat giving off a sputtering hiss as he backed away from Calla, clutching his shoulder whilst his form was shrouded in black smog.
"Nnnnnooo-w-what have you dddooonnne to me-Agck!?!" His intended echoey and demonic sounding voice failed him as he promptly stubbed his foot on a rock protruding by the roadside.
"Bugger that hurt!!" He yowled, his body still wreathed in its illusionary shroud of smog and scarlet flames, albeit not as imposing as before as he wobbled on one foot whilst rubbing the other.
It's rare that Calla laughs, but she can't help herself in front of the absurd image of her incendiary friend. What starts as fingers at the bridge of her nose quickly turns into a suppressed chuckle, then shaking across her shoulders, and then full bodied hilarity.
She barely wheezes out a healing word, and then has to stop-in-stride, doubled over, both hands on her knees.
"C-calla?" Mittens stops wobbling, the spell shroud slipping down from around his head as he looks down at his friend's wheezing fit beside him, a curious half amused-half puzzled expression on his face. "A-are you, laughing?"
There's a brief, and weirdly silent pause as Calla's fingers tense into her knees, then she stands up, eyes narrowed, mouth all but a flat line. "I don't know what you mean. Are you okay?" Her cheeks are entirely flushed, practically running with tears. Her forehead shines with sweat. The speed with which she's regained her composure is so intense it's almost absurd... but evidence littered across her face thoroughly betrays the last few seconds. She's not even corrected her glamour. There. There again. Just the tiniest of twitches at the edge of her lips. The smallest smile fighting for dear life.
Mittens lets the rest of his illusion fall, the crackling flames snuffing out and rippling smog vanishing as quickly as they appeared leaving him feeling a bit silly as he lowers his still throbbing hind paw to the road. "It-it's just..well..that wasn't quite the reaction I was expecting from you.."
He stares at her face curiously for a second…
"Ya sure you're alright?" He asks, blinking with one eye and then the other as if clearing residual illusion magic from his eyes.
"Oh... " she chokes down a snort, "...absolutely. Your glamour's coming along nicely". That twitch still hasn't fully subsided.
"Oh, well wasn't really a glamour, just more an advanced casting of Major illusion whilst keeping the idea of disguised self, blending the two methods together as seamlessly as possible to create a creature focused illusionary effect...Pretty simple really." He says without batting an eyelid, still peering at her.
And then it hit him. "Calla..Are you.. wearing a glamour?" He blurts out almost instantly upon finally clocking the unusually dishevelled look of his friend's appearance.
She responds before she really thinks about it, still a suppressed tone of mirth in her voice, “Of course, for months now, the best Ward is one no one even knows you have. There’s almost no point in wearing armour if everyone sees it. How are you supposed to protect anyone that way? It’s really not so uncommon for… I mean, among… it’s… “ She falters for a moment, hilarity gone. “Yes, I’m wearing a glamour”.
Mittens stares back at her, any feeling of humour now gone as he sees Calla's discomfort. "Can I ask why?" He ventures gingerly.
“I guess I learned how to do it… and it’s… easier?”. She shrugs. “I’m not very good at talking to people sometimes. And I’m not always very likeable. And sometimes, like now, I’m wearing a lot of armour. Sometimes, I guess, I just don’t look very friendly”. Calla gestures downward at herself. “But if people see this and they think they know what they’re getting, that certainty really helps. They think, ‘Ah yes, the mapmaker, the wizard’ and they know what to do with that, and then I know how to talk to them. It's not all of me, but it's the bit we can meet around to do business".
Mittens listens to his friend, the always business-like academic manner she upholds clear in her words but also a tinge of sadness he can’t ignore. Before Calla had even noticed the young kitten has moved forward to wrap his arms around her, his head nestled gently against her chest. His motions are not hindered by the clink of her armour beyond her illusion. “I think you’re likeable, Calla.” Mittens says simply.
Calla freezes, not at all used to being hugged, and then very gently, as if trying not to scare off a wild animal, returns the motion. "I... uh, you're also very... yes. Well, you know". She relaxes just a little. "Maybe I don't have to do it all the time".
All the same, the glamour remains.