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Siobhan kept reading. And reading. The Oath she'd taken hadn't affected her thought patterns, not exactly; rather, everything seemed heightened somehow, as if the world had suddenly come into focus. She still didn't entirely believe, though. So what do you do when you don't believe a claim? You test it.

She flicked through the chapters for something basic, something that would deliver demonstrable effects with no other explanation. Extraordinary claims required extraordinary evidence and all that.

The book responded almost as soon as she had the thought. A diagram caught her eye, purporting to be an inscription on a gold dish from the La Tene culture. It was a simple little spell, insofar as anything involving magic was simple, to make an object glow. Perfect for her purposes. Siobhan grabbed a felt-tip whiteboard marker and a T-shirt she never wore any more and got to work.

The marker scratched and caught in the fabric, and Siobhan's arm twitched sometimes, but the result was a very rough approximation of the design on the golden dish. The circle containing the spell's wording was thick and dark as a gathering storm. It also seemed too small and too big at the same time; perhaps an artifact of the inexact transcription of the spell. Oh well, she thought, Here goes nothing.

She drew the final twisting shape, the Wizard's Knot that tied it all together. She was suddenly reminded of Gordius and his Knot; was he a wizard, and the beautiful Alexander some avatar or servant of the Lo- It, she corrected herself- with that idea of breaking knots as a simple, effective solution to unsolvable problems being an end goal of It, affecting the ability of humanity to practice magic...

Or maybe she was talking bollocks. It could quite easily be that.

Her musings on the nature of long-dead kings and emperors was interrupted by the beginning of the spell. True to form, the shirt began to glow a soft orange colour... and then it began to get brighter. A lot brighter. Siobhan yelped and ran to shove the incandescent shirt in a suitcase and zip it up tight. Then she sat down on the edge of her bed and shivered for a few minutes.

This Speech, the source code of the universe, was magic. Real, honest to God magic. Okay, so she knew how it was done, but that never stopped anything being magic. And it worked, as the shirt proved. Smegging hell. She looked out of the window, at the kind old sun casting shadows through the trees, at the green parakeet sat on the window ledge, at the sea and the burnt-blue sky.

Siobhan opened the window and leaned out, letting the sea wind fill her world. She looked at the parakeet. It looked back.

"Dai stiho, cousin," she said, largely out of curiosity.

"Dai stiho," replied the bird. "Always nice to meet another servant of the Primal Scream, even one whose accent is atrocious."

"What." Siobhan jerked up and bashed her head on the window. "Ow. Smeg. What? I'm talking to a parakeet. Who is also a wizard. What?"

"Skree, you must be newly hatched. How long have you heard the Noise?"

"What year is this?"

"Twelfth Soar of the Twenty-eighth Great Turning."

"About... half an hour then."

"Skree," said the parakeet. "Name's Eats-The-Purple-Fruits. You got one, cousin?"

"Siobhan. Er. Siobhan Jones. Nice to meet you. Er. How long have you been a wizard?"

"Three flights. Years. I'm a bit of an oldie."

"Well, I've lucked out then. Can you... teach me? Is teaching a thing? My book of magic is being a bit obtuse."

"Old wizards don't teach so much as guide, Siobhan Er Siobhan Jones. We trade power for experience and finesse. Besides, magic doesn't work the same for everyone. Starlings work spells with their own bodies, crows write them in fields, seagulls... well, seagulls is where it gets a bit distressing, if I'm honest. Parakeets like me? We scream at the air. We call to the world and the High Shadows and work the Noise into art. We read magic from the currents and thermals, and we call to echo the Primal Scream. That's our book of magic, Siobhan Er Siobhan Jones. And it won't work for you."

"Then, er. Can you guide me?"

"Sure. What's in it for me?"

"I can get you a pretty ready supply of fat balls from the local garden centre-"

"Sold. Right. You don't have to, by the by, I was just trying it on."

"No no, a deal's a deal. I'm not a thief. And just call me Siobhan."

"Call me Purple then."

Siobhan backed up and let Purple fly in through the window. The parakeet flew around a bit before perching on the radiator on the back wall. He poked experimentally at the orange suitcase, then took to the air again.

"Okay then, Siobhan. Where do you want to start?"

---

hS has Kaitlyn, Scapegrace has... a small green bird. Hurrah. =]

Currently: on Coruscant

Welcome to the capital planet of the galaxy, and hub of culture and government everywhere (with some exceptions). Now, you're not out of the woods yet (except in that there are no forests on Coruscant), but your chances of survival have just increased dramatically. So that's good!

Before you go anywhere, it'd be good to know what sort of building you're outside.

-It's huge and impressive, and the holos are of an old white guy's face.
-It's small and dingy, and the holos show food.
-It's small and dingy, and the holos show... uh... well, they're probably not suitable for kids.
-It's a giant spacescraper, and the holos are mostly text.
-I think the fact that the holos are flashing red while an alarm blares is probably more important.

Currently: attempting to borrow Artoo

It sounds like you've got this all figured out - soon you won't need a Mysterious Voice from Above at all! At any rate, your quarry (sorry, 'prospective rescue-ee') and the droid you need should both be back on the Royal Starship, so head there now!

...

Are you there?
-Yes, and Queen Amidala is super happy to see me.
-Yes, but now Captain Panaka has me at gunpoint.
-No, because the Queen is staying with Shmi Skywalker, foolish Voice.
-No, because that's where the duel is, duh.
-I tried to fly there in my stolen ship and now I'm somehow in hyperspace.

(And to answer your other question here: AR is Accelerated Reading, or something like that. At my school, you read a book from the library, then answered 10 questions about it in a computer program to see how much you paid attention. Trivia, character reasonings and so forth. If you got enough questions right/points from the quizzes, you could get a prize at - the end of each month, I think? It was mostly trinkets.)

Anyway, I do like the dialogue and what actions were incorporated with it. :) And the mangled Irish.

Even in that initial episode, when we only see him on-screen as hallucinations, he is just so utterly terrifying. Tenant did a great job with him.

—doctorlit, busting out the glopsnerch

It looks like it's been a week since the last post was made.

By my count, the Permission Giver votes look like this:

LARFEN: 11
HG: 11/12 (depending on whether Nesh counts)
doc: 6

I'm inclined to think doc would've gotten more votes if he'd been mentioned as early as the other two, but on the other hand, he's also the one who's said he kind of doesn't want it. So it's up to you whether you intend to just call it there, or ask for more opinions.

hS

Currently: civilisation

It seems you've landed somewhere with such luxuries as electricity and bars - not always a guaranteed find! It's probably a good idea to pin down your location a bit more precisely - there's a galaxy of difference between a high-class Coruscanti nightclub and a rough Corellian dive.

Take a look around you. What do you see?

-A towering cityscape; I can barely see the sky.
-Mostly low-level buildings; it's all a bit grimy.
-Open countryside; this is the only building here.
-To be honest I'm a bit distracted by the giant holographic faces glaring at me.
-Can't do that; too busy ducking blaster fire from dudes in white armour!

(Quick question: what's 'AR'? 'Augmented Reality' is my first thought, but it doesn't fit. It sounds like some kind of education... thing? 'Augmented Reading', maybe?)

This is a very different Oath story, and I approve! We know that it comes to everyone differently, so it's good to see that shown. That said, I'm not in the least bit sure Marisa understands what she's just signed up for... :-/ Then again, neither did Dairine, and she turned out all right.

In particular, I really like the fact that Marisa seems to be taking the Oath in order to read more. Most wizards want to do stuff - again, Dairine... - but Marisa just wants to learn. I can totally sympathise with that. ^_^

hS

Jacob gaped at the girl who had magically (literally, for once) appeared in front of him. His jaw hung open as she finished her turn and came back to face him.

"Hi!" she said, then frowned. "Oh, hang on…" She looked down at the book in her hands, tucked it under one arm, then dug into the pocket of her jeans. "Where is it… aha!"

Producing a scrap of paper, she held it close to her face, then tutted and pulled her glasses off. "Sand; why did it have to be sand?" She rubbed the lenses clean on her t-shirt and slid them back on. "Right! Um…" She squinted at the piece of paper, cleared her throat. "Dia duit," she said, slowly and carefully, enunciating every letter. "Is draoi mé ó Mheiriceá. Ná bíodh imní ort, táim cairdiúil." Then she slipped the note into the cover of her book, looked up at Jacob, and beamed.

Jacob hadn't stopped staring at her at any point. "Uh… what?"

"Oh." The girl looked crestfallen. "You speak English?" She seemed to search for a reaction, then shrugged. "Okay, but still - wow! Helloooooo, Ireland!"

That startled Jacob out of his stare. "We're not- this is Wales, not Ireland," he said, then realised that with wizardry in the air, that might not be such a sure thing. "Probably, I mean." He glanced over his shoulder at where his parents still sat on the edge of the dunes. "Definitely. I think."

"Not Ire-?" The girl scowled at him, then turned her ire on her book. "I specifically put in the details for Ireland," she said, leafing through the thick paperback. "Wales, Wales… no, it's completely different. I would've noticed a mistake like- oh. Ohhhh."

Jacob leant forward, trying to see the book. "Is that- I mean, do you have…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "... a Manual?"

"Yes, it's-" The girl glanced up at him sharply. "You know what it is?" Her gaze darted to the slim volume in his hand. "You've got one too? You're a wizard?"

"Yes, I… I think so." Jacob held up the faded book for inspection. "I didn't think it actually worked, though…"

"'Worked' is relative," the girl said wryly, tapping the open page of her Manual. "Apparently my 'transit to Éire was redirected to the nearest open locus due to interference from the ambient overlays', whatever that means." She sighed, closed the book with a snap, and held out her hands. "Lise. And, um, dai stiho, cousin." She blinked. "Did I say that right?"

"I have absolutely no idea?" Jacob belatedly took her hand, then let go as soon as seemed practical. "Jacob. I'm kind of new at this."

Lise squinted at him. "Define 'kind of'."

"This was-" Jacob went to gesture at the circles around him, but the sand was bare. "Hey, where'd it go?"

"Spell diagrams vanish when the spell is cast," Lise said, "it's in the Manual. Wait, were you about to say 'my first spell'?"

"... maybe."

"Ah, great." Lise dropped down to sit on the ground, sending up a puff of sand. "Do you know, there's not a single wizard under the age of 18 in the whole of Washington? I checked. So naturally when I travel halfway around the world to find one he's got even less experience than me."

"I, uh…" Jacob knelt down gingerly on the beach in front of her. "That's… bad?"

"No kidding." Lise sighed, then looked up, pushing her wavy black hair back from her face. "So how'd the," she hefted her Manual slightly, "find you?"

"On a bookshelf." He winced at how obvious that sounded. "At our holiday house. I needed a book, you see, and it… was there."

"They do that," Lise agreed, "apparently. Mine caught me at a bookshop - a last minute swap for a fantasy thing." She shook her head, looking down at the cover, then glanced up again with a tentative smile. "So… magic, right?"

"Yeah." Jacob chuckled suddenly. "Yeah. And you- you teleported here?"

"I know, right?" She reached down and grabbed a handful of sand, letting it trickle through her fingers. "Two weeks ago I would've laughed at the very idea, but now… well, I'm still laughing!"

"I don't blame you." Jacob placed his Manual on the floor in front of him, running his fingers over the rough cover. "And…" He licked his lips, suddenly even less sure of himself. "Does it do… everything it says it does?"

"And more." There was a sparkle in Lise's eyes that had nothing to do with the sun overhead. "Harry Potter's got nothing on me- on us. And the things you hear…" She shook her head again, met Jacob's eyes. "If you're just starting out, you've got a lot to look forward to."

"Says the girl who's been a wizard for two whole weeks."

She flicked a hand through the air. "Week and a half, but who's counting?" The cover of her Manual suddenly pulsed with a faint light, and she scowled. "Mom's awake… I'd better go. Assuming I don't bounce off any ambient whatsits again."

"Oh." Jacob slumped slightly. "Well, it was lovely to meet you."

Lise shot him a look. "Really?"

"Well… yes." He ran his fingers through the sand. "I mean, this whole wizardry thing is huge, and knowing there's someone else out there who's just starting with it is… y'know…"

"I do." Lise thought for a second, then held out her hand. "Lend me your Manual?"

"Er." He looked down at the book. "Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "Or just… hang on." Flicking her own book open, she found a page and held it open. "Address book. Tap it there."

Dubiously, Jacob picked up his Manual and touched it to hers. The book quivered slightly, and when he opened it he found a new page near the front, bearing Lise's name, address, and current status.

"So now we can keep in touch," Lise said. "In fact…" She leafed through her book to what looked like a schedule. "What're you doing in… two hours or so?"

"Er." Jacob glanced up at the sun to get a feel for the time. "We might still be on the beach." But out over the sea, the clouds were starting to build. "I think Mum said we'd do the Panorama Walk - it's up on the mountains back there." He waved in vaguely the right direction.

"Sounds fun." Lise flicked through her Manual until she came to a page covered in a complex diagram. "So let me go have some breakfast, make an appearance, and change into something warmer-" She had goosebumps on her arms, Jacob noticed, though it was quite a warm day. "-and I'll meet you there." She glanced up at him, not quite meeting his eyes. "I mean, if that sounds good to you?"

"Yes?" Jacob coughed. "Uh, yes. If you're not busy. It's been nice talking to you."

"Likewise." Climbing to her feet, Lise shook the sand off her jeans and held out her Manual. "You might want to stand back - I'm not sure what this looks like from the outside."

Jacob hastily moved away, then stopped and turned to watch. As Lise spoke the words of her spell, reading from the open page, he heard the words both in the unfamiliar syllables of the Speech, and in plain, almost conversational English: "This is a mbende-askhad-ten class reversal of the previously enacted translocation event…"

Everything went still. The world leant in to listen as Lise worked her way through the spell (far more complex than Jacob's own). And then, in a flurry of sand and a clap of displaced air, she was gone.

---

Author's Miscellaneous Notes:

-Names continue to be... ah, you get the picture. Hi, Kaitlyn!
-The line Lise says early on is in fairly ropey Irish Gaelic. You can safely assume she's mispronouncing it.
-The idea of bouncing off Ireland due to how messed up it is, magically-speaking, is mine, but the messed-up part is all Diane Duane.
-This should hopefully be the most dialogue-heavy chapter; we'll get back to moving (and magic) next time.

hS

When it comes to 40k, there's a big difference between crunch and fluff. Also, are they playing Quake 3 in the second part?

I'm outside a building, and I can see several colorful holographic signs.

The helmet of your power armor has a comm-link built into it, and given that you have have firsthand evidence of Chaos taint, you would be well within your rights to vox to base for a flamer detachment.

And have to say, Jessica Jones season 1 is probably my favorite Marvel Netflix series bar none. David Tenant as Kilgrave is just such a brilliant villain

It's an amazing story written by a very awesome artist. If you want to ask any questions, I've got a direct line to Tom, aka Abbadon. I personally love the art style.


- Maxewell

“I would utilize biomancy to repair the wound.”

Tom sighed. “You can’t, though. That’s not even on the list of spells you can prepare.”

“Why would I not be able to?” Thoth stared down at the model, its blue and gold color scheme shining. “If this marine cannot perform such a simple feat, I am astounded he has survived this long.”

“Oh, god…” Tom put his head in his hands. “Look… in the game, it doesn’t work like that. You have to pick your spells before the battle, and for Aspiring Sorcerers, you choose from a list of six. Now, I’m charging your unit. Are you going to fire a snap shot?”

Thoth casually flicked die. “Three. Insufficient. Roll. But I must protest my units being taken down by mere guardsmen so easily. We Astartes are tough.”

“Yeah, and guardsmen aren’t anywhere near MEQ. Doesn’t mean they can’t back a punch.” Tom rolled. “That’s three hits at 4+, and… two wounds. Roll save.”

Thoth wrinkled his brow. “What is... MEQ?”

“Marine EQuivalent,” said Tom. “Space Marines are sort of the average unit that all others are balanced against. So having a MEQ is pretty common in an army. It didn’t used to be like that. Back in Rogue Trader, they gave you the stats for a normal human in the rules as base.”

“...That is absurd,” said Thoth, slowly. “Astartes are nowhere near an average power level. And these units are not of a proper strength to represent us.”

Tom sighed wearily. “Yeah, MEQs aren’t MEQ. Just deal with it. Are you gonna roll save or what?”

~~

BlackMage: And it was like that through the rest of the match, too. And he almost beat me, and it was his FIRST TIME.
0rnixery: It sounds like you just suck.
BlackMage: :-(
BlackMage was railed by 0rnixery
BlackMage: I do no-Hey, no typekilling.
0rnixery: Tom, if I didn’t, you’d just sit around moping and I’d never get to beat you.
BlackMage: Okay, point... but your victory is by no means assured.
0rnixery: I’m a better shot and you know it.
BlackMage: Accuracy isn’t everyt- you just took RA. D*
0rnixery: The early bird gets the worm. :-)
BlackMage ate a slug from 0rnixery’s railgun.
BlackMage: Why are you so good?
0rnixery: I have had a lot of practice. Dagger likes this game.
BlackMage: Why do
0rnixery was gibbed by BlackMage’s rocket
BlackMage: HA!
BlackMage: ...you call him Dagger?
0rnixery: Screename. Nice shot, by the way.
BlackMage: You call your partner by his screen name.
0rnixery: yes.
BlackMage: You are so weird, Tal.
0rnixery: And you’re 7 frags behind. Try to catch up.
BlackMage: :-(
BlackMage was fragged by 0rnixery
0rnixery: Make that 8.

--

Yes, my agents are partaking in my favorite games. Why wouldn't they?

This one might be a bit obtuse, but don't worry. You're not really missing anything.

I still haven't finished it. Really need to get around to doing so...

Also, there is an RPG, if you are at all interested in that.

Zeb hummed to himself as he rolled out the pie crust on the counter, hips swaying in time with the music. Elanor watched him from her high chair, gnawing on a large plastic key ring.

"You want another berry, Ellie?" Zeb asked as he reached for the bucket of razz berries to pop a handful in his mouth.

Elanor dropped her key ring and held out her hands, big brown eyes pleading. "Zeeeeeeeb."

Zeb grinned and pulled another razz berry apart so Elanor wouldn't choke on it, then offered it to her. She snatched the sticky pieces of berry away from him and stuffed them in her mouth, chewing slowly.

The TARDIS door was flung open and the Aviator stepped out, wiping her forehead. "God, I need a break. The stupid fluid links are refusing to synch up and the chronometer is still not calibrating properly." Her attempt to wipe off her face resulted in just smearing more engine grease around, and she huffed and sat down at the counter.

"Mamamamamama," Elanor said, reaching her berry-covered hands towards the Aviator.

"Hey kiddo," the Aviator said, blowing her a kiss. "I'll give you a proper hug in a bit, but I need to get cleaned up first—"

Zeb rolled up a towel and snapped it at her hands. "Keep your greasy paws away from my pie crust," he scolded.

The Aviator stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm not going to get your counter dirty, don't worry," she said. "But what's with the baking, anyway?"

Zeb blushed and ducked his head. "Well... you know all the times I've gone to visit Jacques before?"

"...Yeeees?" The Aviator glanced at Elanor, wondering if this conversation was going to be appropriate for small ears.

"He's been showing me how to bake!" Zeb said excitedly. "Pies, and pastries, and Dawn came by a few times—she showed me how to make latkes—and anyway, Jacques is coming over later today, and I thought I'd surprise him!" He picked up the pie crust he'd been rolling out and carefully laid it in a pan, patting it down. "You can definitely have some, too, if you want."

The Aviator grinned. "Sounds great. Mind watching Elanor for five more minutes while I shower?"

"Not at all." Zeb planted a loud smooch on Elanor's cheek and broke apart another berry for her. "She's been very helpful watching me bake."

"Yes," Elanor agreed, and stuffed the berry in her mouth.

"I'll help if there's anything left to do when I get back," the Aviator promised, and vanished into the bathroom.

Also enjoying the YW stuff you're writing above--and now it looks like you're bringing in a version of Kaitlyn! I'm excited to see more.

~Z

[Or: that moment when you come up with an entirely different idea from what you've said before...]

Marisa sighed, overdramatic, behind her closed door. (Her. It may have been her and her brother's room, but since he wasn't in here that made it her room for now.) It was better than crying again, which would have made the yelling outside worse.

Why couldn't she just read her Transformers "Seeker Threesome" fic in peace? She'd already done her night's studying for school - in truth, if anyone asked her parents, they'd have said they would expect her transition to middle school to go quite well, as long as her IEP plan came through. Therefore, she should have the right to be untroubled by what went on in the rest of her house, which right now meant quiet!

But no. Instead of giving in to the urge to cry and thus verbalize her frustration (letting her temper get her in trouble one more time), she gave up on reading the fanfic and opened a new tab, tossing anything she could think of into her (her dad's, really) computer's open browser window search function.

Time passed, and nothing caught her interest - hardly a new affair in Marisa's world. But then there was something, after looking up what must have been the nth permutation of an AI-related search term (since she loved those kinds of stories the most - she didn't yet have the nerve to articulate that fact, she just knew it instead).

'AI, Stories, and How the World Works' Bingo, Marisa thought, a smile beginning to come back to her face at just the thought of what that title might mean. A little clicking about, and that smile was replaced by a determined frown.

Should she download this 'AR about AI' program or not? If she did, she'd be allowed to read various stories, fiction and non, about AI (and maybe other humans, too; the site wasn't clear), then prove she had by answering questions about them like she did for her school's AR program, all for free! But was it safe? If she broke her computer, she could only imagine what her Dad would say - or rather, yell.

Fortunately, there was a privacy policy, and she read it thoroughly in the way only determined children can. Ah! There was a security program involved, even its own virus protection! It'd take a lot more reading to understand, sure, but Marisa was invested now, so that was a simple task for her.

Several more tabs (and, surprisingly, no interruptions) later, and she thought she understood what this program was for and, more importantly, that it was legitimate enough that her dad could not complain! The concluding agreement she had to read aloud, sure, but she could do that quietly, right?

'This program doesn't have all the same values that the 'legalese' in other virus programs are supposed to,' she thought. 'But I don't have normal values either! If this will protect me, and my computer, and whatever I put on it, just because I said these words... and mean it, then I'm gonna do it!'

She installed the program (maybe her parents were watching TV to calm down; they still hadn't come in by this point), and when she scrolled to the bottom of the agreement (taking care to read and take notes on what was in the rest of the agreement, since she wasn't stupid and wanted to be able to answer questions when her dad and mom inevitably came back in to check on her), she took a deep breath, read the words over once, twice, and began to recite:

"In Life's Name, and for Life's Sake, I swear that I will use the Art I have been given for this purpose and no other. I swear to guard growth and ease pain, to support Life of all kinds, to respect the free will of all sentient beings-" she grinned, then, for she knew where that line was echoed, having watched the movie with her family within the last year.

"to exchange fear for courage, and death for life, when it is right to do so, 'til universes' End."

Should that comma come before the s? Marisa wondered. Or maybe this is about all the universes I'll be reading about? Of course there'll be more than one! That made things interesting, as far as she was concerned.

"Marisa! Come help with dinner!" her mom called, breaking her concentration. Quickly hitting 'Confirm' and telling the computer to restart itself, she called back.

"Okay!"

She was going to have a lot more reading to do, but she looked forward to it. It was better than stewing in her own emotions.

((AN: Yes, "Marisa" is supposed to be 10. ^.~ 11 might be more accurate, but there are two main episodes in my life where I could plausibly have had an Ordeal and not tackled it in a morally screwed-up way, and this is the earlier one. I can write the intro for the second option and go from there, if anyone is interested?))