abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] the dawn is opening

"Here, try it more like this."

The Horizon is a very helpful place to have. It's not that Claude doesn't want to go practice in the desert - and has done just that plenty of times before, fading summer heat wave or not - but it's certainly nice to be able to do this without worrying about anyone watching. 'This' being the two of them standing in the middle of the training grounds within in his own domain separated from Garreg Mach where Claude's repurposed the corner of his courtyard normally cluttered with archery targets and weapons racks into something else. While the archery components are still there (and same for the weapons where swords and axes wait), they aren't the main targets this time.

Instead it's a handful of things meant for wind magic practice: a couple towers built out of playing cards to a decent height and ready to be knocked down courtesy of an enchantment on them to rebuild each time that happens, a table with oversized fruits ready to be sliced up by wind blades, some hollow chimes meant for seeing who can strike them harder to make them ring out, and any number of other things to add a little variety into what comes to targets.

It's one of those wind blades Claude summons now, and with the flick of a wrist he sends it whistling through the air to shave off part of a large rectangular ice block. Said ice might be so he can entertain himself as a triangular shape slides off and hits the ground below to shatter into an approximation of snow, mostly because this is the only amount of snow he enjoys, but that's not the point of now as he turns back to Abby with a grin.

"I'd say it's a little like throwing a knife, but we might have to work that into today's practice later since I have a dartboard around here somewhere we could use."

Edited 2023-10-02 23:22 (UTC)

Wind magic was weird. Once she got the basics down, making a wind, that and a lot of other more fundamental aspects of the element became simple. Shaping the magic to create a trail in the air, tornadoes, localized spheres of slashing wind. It had to either be chaotic destruction, or easy to visualize.

Controlled destruction was a little bit more of a challenge.

She held her knife in front of her, flat aimed at one of the watermelons, releasing the spell she'd formed in it. It did release a pulse of wind. But it wasn't flat, wasn't sharp. It just rolled the watermelon off it's pedestal, like hit with a bullet of air. Abby sagged a little with a frustrated noise.

Feeling the shape her magic takes had taken a little work, but she could tell what she was doing. And that it wasn't what she wanted. "I keep ending up with something the size of a golf ball, not a sheet of paper. Which I think I can use for something else but it isn't what we're working on."

It might solve her 'buildings too far apart' problem but that was not today's agenda. She'd also attempted casting from the tip of her knife, rather than the flat, but that was wildly difficult to aim and still ended up in golf ball sized air bullet territory.

...That hit a rack of axes she wasn't anywhere near aiming for.

He watches as she aims the knife towards her target, idly fiddling with a dagger he'd created after the mention of knives and throwing them, since - why not? It can't hurt to build one more skill in there in his mind, and possibly more so since she'd been looking at the knives in the market that day. Might as well help her be prepared as best as he can should she decide to buy one.

The wind, however, has other ideas as Abby takes a shot with it. The frustrated noise isn't unexpected, given how prone he is to a variety of them himself, and Claude holds back the urge to tell her to try again. That's what practice is for and she'll have to reach for what she knows and for how this should be, and he believes she can do it. That comparison she offers is a little lost on him, though he tilts his head to one side while tapping the dagger against his palm as he considers it.

"What if you think of a... bucket of golf balls, was it? Instead of just one, then focus on aiming that or rather, all of them." Is it a good suggestion? Possibly though likely not, given he'd be lying if he said it wasn't also for the sake of experimenting a little with the Horizon and all those ways waiting to play into wherever this goes.

The axes weren't exactly what he has in mind, but: he certainly hadn't hit everything he'd aimed for the first try when learning the spells, that's for sure. "New plan, we're going to walk around during this." With a nod in the direction of the axes, he sets off towards there with the intent of loosening things up a bit. If Abby has that arsenal of blades ready to go, he'll conjure up some oversized bubbles to drift her way since no reason practice can't be a little more (or a lot more) fun than standing in one place the whole time.

When it came to distance casting, putting a spell into a shape, locking the shape into an object, and letting it run wild far away from her, her slingshot and marbles were perfect. There was no right way to aim the spell, they were an explosion of magic far away from her and that was all she needed.

The flat of a dagger was much better for aiming a work, from her person. Eventually she'll learn to cut people but at the very least she can get out of being tied up or something.

She'd have to loop all the bullets of air into a single working, which she could probably manage. Aiming that much power was already a problem. "I'd be pretty likely to hit the target. And that one. And that one. And that one." Pointing to everything vaguely near the target she was working on. Power, no control.

"Not sure what the fuckin' point is. I might as well just work on what I'm good at, making a fucking mess and leveling cities." Abby has not, thus far, actually leveled a city. Even in the Horizon. But delicate shit wasn't her deal and she definitely was sounding more defeated than she usually got when practice turned sour.

Still, she followed in his wake to see what his new plan was.

Claude merely hums in response to pointing out the additional 'targets' where her aims might end up whether that was the intent or not. Part of learning, as far as he's concerned, and that'd be true whether they were out in the desert in Cadens or not. He's starting to open his mouth to tell her of losing ("losing") a swordfight (of which it wasn't, actually) to Geralt during some training, though before he does more than inhale to speak Abby beats him to it again.

And what's said? That gets him to shoot a sidelong glance towards her. Or what's meant to be a glance but turns into something more like a proper look of appraisal as casually as it can be done while he's still walking, and Claude's silent when he turns back forward and with the wave of a hand casts the first of many bubbles to come.

"Do you have plans for this magic I'm not aware of? Maybe I'd like to be in on the destruction with you," is what he finally says lightly as though she'd suggested a book to read or a play to see. It wasn't that casual, that much he can tell from what sounded like more than mere frustration alone, though when it comes to the reason behind it - that much he'll leave to Abby to reveal.

Abby's look is somewhere between aggressive and terrified. Maybe a little madness. Her first instinct is she's being dismissed. That's not really Claude's style, but it doesn't help her calm down. Maybe that's the real him, it isn't like she's a fantastic judge of character. Ice and frost start to form over her dagger as she clenches it in her fist, her magic seeping out with her emotions.

Abby didn't have this problem too often, her magic just acting without her. Or, she didn't used to. It happened when she worried. When she couldn't keep her control of her emotions.

She dropped the knife when it got too cold to hold. There's a wince when she does it, and a small explosion of ice around the knife where it lands. "I don't have any plans. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I never have."

She takes a few steps to put distance between them. She can't conjure magic through living people, but if she can't actually keep her emotions in check she does not want to hurt anyone else with her magic. "I fuck around and watch the world shatter around me. All I've ever been!"

There's a look which passes over Abby's face that at first he can't read, can't place in anything he's seen from her before and that alone gets him to pause with his hand still mid-air from that burst of creating targets. The knife falling to the ground has him looking down at it - and the ice now covering both the blade and the ground - before flicking his gaze back up to study her.

It helps having all that practice keeping his expression politely impassive as that's what he does now while listening and watching as she takes steps back. A small flashback to that day in the market follows where one spell had turned into something else that'd caused a little more havoc than intended, but that still doesn't feel right even to what she says. A mismatch has to be happening somewhere though Claude tilts his head to one side slightly over what it could be when this feels like it's drawing closer to an answer.

"Sounds like something we have in common then. The whole world shaking up thing, I mean." He's still careful to keep it nonchalant to not entirely ignore the escalation happening before his eyes but to delay it enough to figure it out. Or, with any luck, to have Abby fill in what feels like is still missing here. "Not to sound like your grandfather or anything, but not knowing what you're doing right now doesn't mean you never will. And it especially doesn't mean that if something's gone wrong that it has to stay that way, unless you want it to."

Abby's hand twists in the hem of her shirt, which also ices over as she touches it. This is fun. If they were in her domain the land would probably be twisting with her own emotions. Changing to meet her mood.

Good thing this practice is here then.

Claude's at least looking at her in a way that doesn't feel wrong. He's concerned, but there isn't a judgment to it. That's the thing she always fears, and he doesn't have it. Just concern and maybe understanding? Which she'll worry about later. "Not if what's broken is me."

Abby loved her friends, the ones she missed. But she did see the pattern in their choices, their actions. It was a part of her loving them that she saw them. As much as shit happened to them, they did play a hand in their own unhappiness. And she wasn't any different, she knew some of the voices in her head weren't on her. They happened to her.

And she knows other voices are her's, and that she brought them into being.

She sat/fell into the grass and put her hand on the ground. More ice, more cold where her skin touched earth, radiating from her. "If I weren't me, some of the shit wouldn't have happened. Maybe things would just- work better."

More ice is forming by the second in what feels like a signal. Like a warning flare, almost, even if 'warning' too strong for what he's feeling when it's not alarm but concern that only grows at Abby's proclamation.

Claude watches and lets the bubbles float away unnoticed to head to someone else's domain through however the sky equivalent works in here considering - training can wait. This is more important as she drops to the ground and the ice spreads. For a second he shifts his gaze away from her to it to consider it, then crouches down next to her to run a couple fingertips over it. It's real enough to be cold to the touch.

"That's possible, I suppose. But who's to say they wouldn't also be worse if you weren't you?" After brushing the ice crystals on his fingers off to the ground, Claude lets his hand rest on his knee afterwards while looking back at her. "That certainly works both ways. Not to mention a third possibility that I prefer, which is where you make things better by being who you are even if it means going through difficult times. Or struggles, or whatever else meaning the same thing."

Claude goes silent again, still turning over the vaguest outline of what this means in his mind without the details to fill it in then adds, "Nor does it mean anyone else is right no matter who they are if there's someone else responsible for giving you that idea, either."

Abby knows Claude is concerned, about her. Or rather, she wants to know it. But she's been down this road. And trusting someone actually cares is hard to do, if you're her. Certainly some of her life isn't her fault, the whole reason she hates adults is how much their fuck-ups decide her life. It's a bitterness she couldn't do much with at home.

Here was only nominally better.

So she wants to believe what he says, about her. It'd be so much easier if she was better for the world than the alternative. And some of that desire does get her magic to stop flaring. The ice isn't going away, but it isn't spreading. She sits and pouts in her small icy wonderland. "I couldn't even fake liking someone for five minutes to get a job. Just let him think he's as fucking important as he thinks he is."

It clicks, finally, why the ice feels familiar even if he hadn't consciously thought so until now. It'd been a different application then meant to fell a beast rather than cover the ground as they are here now, and he considers that briefly. Even with what they'd discussed before of magic to what'd led them here to practicing, it fills in a few more unanswered questions he'd had about Abby's magic.

That's secondary to everything else and the train of thought's tucked away with the rest of what he'll think about another time. What she says gets a hum from him; it's more information but not enough for any suggestions. Not any that wouldn't be assuming what's behind it or if it's tied to what's going on or something else, and though he could attempt to offer some more advice it'd help to know more first.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? As someone who's messed up many a thing intentionally or otherwise, I'd like to think I have decent insight." Kidding, partially - but the offer's genuine.

Abby's magic reacts to her heart, and the more she's practiced the more it just- takes a form for her. Ice has been one of the easiest things to feel. The cold mirrored her loneliness nicely. Letting it just react to her so easily. And it came to her silent call so easily now.

"I don't know. I wanted... I guess to keep it professional? He's fucking old and I didn't feel like pretending to be friends. But the more he dismissed what I was saying the more I started getting pissed. It got so bad I just- ran off when he left the room." Her eyes drifted to her ice. Her voice as cold and still as the frozen space she was making. Still and quiet Abby is a pathetic looking thing, terrible in how much it wasn't her usual behavior. "I was afraid of doing this in his shop."

Now she kinda wished it happened. Not that she wanted him to know how easily he got under her fucking skin, but a part of her wanted to just destroy- be whatever locals feared of Wild Magic.

"That makes sense since I think most merchants wouldn't be fond of me starting a windstorm in the middle of all their wares. Not that you and I didn't already do as much in the market the other day."

Now isn't particularly a time to joke, but it's a chance to cheer her slightly (hopefully) even if it's the briefest of smiles - or possibly even enough to shoot him a glare instead of looking as forlorn as she does now. He'd take being a distraction in there as he moves to sit down next to her without sitting on the ice, so much as he can manage to do both.

"I've learned there'll always be at least one person no matter where you are who overlooks you because of something they've decided about you, much as I wish I could say otherwise. What I said before still stands in that it doesn't mean that's an accurate assessment of you or that you've necessarily done anything wrong. Even if you have, it doesn't mean you can't still fix it - when it's something else and if you want to, that is, since not everything deserves to be fixed. But aside from that, everyone makes mistakes, Abby. It's alright if you make them, too."

All well and good when it's said as a standalone 'argument' all in itself, but Claude's silent as he thinks again, this time about something else. There's more he could add to that. "I have a... habit, you could say, of putting up walls to keep people out. I've had them up since I was much younger than you are, and they've served me well. Sometimes too well, and that's part of my own mistakes made among other things."

Two things stuck out in all that, enough that she didn't linger on his joke. As it was just somewhat laser targetted at what was bothering her, so all it'd do is make her more miserable.

The first is 'not everything deserves to be fixed.' Something so obvious she should already have known it, but it never even occured to her in all her issues how much she could just let go of broken shit. Instead of feeling like it was her fault it broke, and her fault it never got fixed. The words absolutely got through and it was clear they were tugging and pulling in her head as she tried to determine how much of her life just- didn't need fixing.

It needed to be abandoned.

The second was him opening up about himself. She wasn't always like this, this thing. This closed off girl was a creation of the past few years. Becoming more walled off from even her best friends in her own world. Little by little. "I'm guessing it isn't anything as simple as 'fucked up parents' is it?"

Abby glanced around at the field still more ice than not and pressed her hand into the ground. How to fix this. Eventually she figured out the right combination of sensations to make her will happen, and warm air started to blow from the ground up quickly melting the ice away around her.

She didn't get up because practice was absolutely fucking done, she just was tired of feeling like Elsa.

"It's a little more than that." Dryly, since nothing about that confirmation comes out as particularly humorous beyond a faint attempt at amusement. Some time goes by as he debates on how to follow that up when it comes to a sort of explanation beyond just - leaving it there, tempting as it is to do so and pivot away to another topic entirely.

"I was an outsider of sorts growing up. I learned to deal with it in my own ways, but doing that came with a cost. Or more like several, but I understand as much as I can where those things overlap, if they even do. This isn't to make it sound like everything's always simple enough to be resolved just by letting it go. It's a little more complicated when it comes to the reality of doing it."

While speaking he watches as she clears the ice from the ground and holds out a hand to feel the breeze generated by the warm air. It's also of interest to him, and not just because it's wind magic adjacent if he wants to call it that, but because it's another manipulation of everything in here past the easier solution of blinking and the ice disappearing. After looking back up, Claude offers her another slight smile.

"The same goes for letting people in since I've been working on that for a few years and most days I'm convinced I'm no better at it now than when I started. That's more to say it's alright if things are a work in progress since the people who care about you won't mind. Though," with a slight pause for levity in part of the next thought, "that sort of wisdom comes with being old like I am now, after all. My younger self spent a lot of time pointedly not caring what anyone thought."

Abby's face is clearly one thinking through not just what Claude said know, but what she knows about him. Picking through bits and pieces trying to fit them into a picture. One that made sense. Of course this required anything Claude said to fit with anything else Claude said, and for Claude to be completely candid which- he wasn't. That was the whole point of this.

So she'll focus on here and now, the Claude he described today. And not try to make it work with yesterday, or the day before, or the bee guy at the party. Just right now.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, "Mine isn't all about my parents. Blaming them is easy because everyone fucking knew in town. And I guess I just- let that carry over here."

She's still testing where her emotions are with small plays of magic, warm breezes were generally better than bitter chill. It meant she was in control, it did what she wanted. "They split up, few months ago. But they've hated each other for the past few years. And I could just- put all this on them. I don't trust because I can't trust them. It's a pretty common thing in my world."

Deep breath in, slow breath out. "I did try to let people in, to help me. But they didn't want to. For whatever reason, my pain didn't bother others. So I stopped reaching out. And I thought I found people here I could trust, a new family, one that cared."

Abby is small. Not- just her height, she sounds small. Something she doesn't normally. Abby is loud and fills a space with her joy or her bravado (when she isn't invisible. It made sense, she's terrified to just talk to people. She's terrified to be betrayed. Again. "Maybe I still have, just not the people I thought it was."

"I still feel like I don't deserve any of the good shit though, you know?" She hopes he gets it, she's praying that his bad shit is close enough he can see her. Small terrified her.

Her expression is an encouraging one - if someone was going to reject what was said, they likely wouldn't spend time considering it first. In his experience, anyway, considering most people who disagreed with him had no shortage of eagerness to do that immediately and almost right in the same instant when the words leave his mouth.

What it leads to this time is Abby opening up in return with far more detail than before, and Claude crosses both his arms to let them rest overtop his knees while he listens. Even with some of the details almost certainly missing still, much as they're Abby's to decide whether to share or not share at all, it does bring some more of what's bothering her into focus for him. He nods slightly at the moments needing it to encourage her to keep going, but is otherwise silent until it's his turn.

"I get it. It can be easy to want to let those negative voices in, isn't it? I know my friends who've struggled with that because when you hear it for years, sometimes it wants to sink in as fact even if it isn't. You do deserve good things, happiness, to find people who value you for who you are rather than an impression made - and anything and everything else that falls in between all of those."

If they were sitting closer, Claude might've nudged her with an elbow just to underscore that or maybe impart some additional sincerity to that. As it is, he'll have to go with his other plan of adding more to that to make it so. "It doesn't mean all of that can't still hurt you, too, even if you're not at home. There are some things I still feel and hold close even though it's been years since they happened, and to narrow it down further it was some of those that kept me from reaching out to anyone after convincing myself it wasn't worth it. I didn't like being hurt the times I'd tried, not that anyone does, but with some of that hurt came lessons. What I didn't want to repeat, what I didn't want out of reaching out to someone, and what I did - maybe some of which might apply to here since neither of us can change our pasts."

There's a slight breath of relief at the fact he listens, and seems, to get it. He frames it as a friend, which she supposes makes sense as he doesn't seem the type to let those voices in. His own voice seems a bit louder than everyone else. Putting him closer to Ginny than herself.

Maybe she needed that more.

"So the bullshit that happened to me now just- gets to live in my head forever, not even paying rent." It sounded discouraging, because it was, but she said it with a defeated little scoff to say she wasn't surprised. "I know that my distrust of adults is cause of- me. My world, and it's bullshit. But a lot of adults had gone out of their way to not make it worse here."

Some gone, some here, she never classified Claude as an adult because it's really easy to forget that. But they would listen to her, maybe coax her out of her worst traits, but never demand her behave one way or another.

"I don't really like pretending to be some polite drone. Acting okay when I'm not, being nice when I don't like someone," Which is how all this came back up, she's not good at faking happy. She's good at being herself, she can lean in one direction or another. Chaos or helpful, caring or blunt. But asking her to put on a mask just fucking backfires. She's still her, under whatever it is. "So when the most famous summoned in Cadens wanted me to just- be polite and act like his friend I just- couldn't do it."

Not when he said every possible thing wrong to her, hit every trip wire, every thing that'd piss her off. And 'most famous summoned in Cadens' was said with such absolute venom the words probably could melt steel.

A wry smile crosses his face at the mention of something living in one's head forever, since - that also feels familiar. There's no particular comfort Claude can offer there; some things simply change too much to ever be fully erased no matter how long it's been since they happened. He can think of several of his own in a matter of seconds.

The rest of what Abby says seems to clarify a bit more of what's going on as he thinks about it, and after a pause he nods slightly to show there was some consideration happening in the silence following rather than just letting them go without a response.

"That's fair enough. Sometimes there's benefits in pretending to feel or act one way despite feeling the complete opposite, but that doesn't mean it's right to apply to it to every situation and especially those where you're uncomfortable. The same goes for hanging around with someone when there's far more Summoned here. Besides Cadens alone, that is, since that's true across the other places as well and when you factor in the Horizon? More than enough space to look for those you feel are worth getting to know."

Though, with a tilt of his head and a slightly more genuine smile, "Not that it makes it easier to have to start over or any more fun to do since that part's kind of universally terrible, I've found. But sometimes that also means it's a chance for you to find what you do want out of it, too."

Abby's still and thoughtful as she absorbs the offered wisdom, balancing 'lie' 'mislead' and 'self' in some arcane math that makes even less sense than actual fucking math. When should she be herself, when should she be herself but with a bid more gild on her edges. It's a lot to try to work out, and probably not something she'll solve in the next decade.

But she can work on it.

Now she shifts from sitting to a more crouching position. This probably doesn't read as anything until she smirks. And pushes forward for a hug that she didn't expect she had in her, pretty sure Claude can't prepare for it.

"...Thanks." There's still Abby's usual rough edge where nothing polite sounds polite from her, but everything else about her sells the sincerity anyway.

Figuring out what she wants, what new freedom she has now that a bunch of doors are closed. What windows to open or walls to tear down to get to whatever happiness is out there for her. Figuring out all those tough questions can wait at least a few more seconds.

There's more pauses there, the kind that Claude associates with someone processing something or - when it's a good thing, like this is meant to be - them internalizing it. He can only hope that's the case here when the words he'd said were ones he meant and means, though they come with the bonus of being from the outside and with the perspective only time can bring though he hadn't known that at the time.

It's more than enough then that Abby offers a thanks, and that's enough for Claude to offer a smile back. He'll take that.

"Of course." He's tempted to add more, but there's value in not overdoing something simply to make a point. Or several points considering there's also the fact that he's talked quite a bit here which is all the more reason to put it on pause. Time will factor in again when it comes to everything said, too.

Instead he pushes himself up off the ground with a nod back towards the targets since there's still plenty left. "Now, about this practice..."

[ CLOSED ] the dawn is opening

— abby

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it's a wrap!