abraxaslogs | It's not a real party until something's broken! (Open/Closed Prompts)

Having gotten a little used to magic by this point, Finn merely tilts his head in curiosity over the cloud. Emotional magic. That's a new one. Or, well, then again, he supposes use of the Force is technically emotional magic. At least in his mind.

"You don't need to be fixed. But you're welcome." No one needs fixing, not really. People just are who they are, and if they feel like they need to be fixed, then maybe they just need some outside help of another kind. Like a listener, for example.

He wants to ask what she liked about the killing or why she had to kill the thing at all. As someone who has killed a lot of things, there are blurry lines there regarding ethics and morals. Sometimes, it's best to ignore those lines entirely, he finds. But for now, he's not sure circling back around to such a heavy topic is something she wants.

So he points to the cloud. "That's pretty cool, by the way. What does it mean? Does it depend on the color?"

The beautiful paradox is that if she doesn't need to be fixed, then the part of her that feels she does needs fixing. Maybe 'fix' is the wrong word, but care and maintenance is needed to keep a person working the same way you do with a car or a restaurant.

Sometimes you just need to invite an Angry Englishmen in to call you a donkey.

"Wild magic is fueled by emotions. I draw off my own feelings and experiences to shape the spell into what I want. But since it feeds off of me, it mimics me too." She gently touches the space of the ceiling more little clouds becoming known. "So if I get a cloud from a sunny day, well, that's pretty nice. Tornado warning green, or stormy gray? Well, probably means I haven't worked through all my fucking shit yet. Clouds are just a lot easier to conjure, and aren't as dangerous as wind or ice."

Which explained why Cadens didn't trust it - wild magic - not the way they did New Magic. The theory being an Expresso machine won't screw up your drink because it's having a fight with the sandwich press. Her emotions fed into her spells and could twist them into something wrong if she wasn't careful.

Oh, that's interesting. Kind of scary, too, especially since Finn can relate.

"I have an ability kind of like that. Something from home, but it doesn't make clouds. Yours is way better... Sometimes, I'm not sure what I'm feeling. A guide would be helpful." It's weird to say, weird to think, but it's true. Everything he's been through has left him a little messed up, and feelings conflict all over the place for so many reasons.

"The Free Cities doesn't like wild magic, right? You've got a good grasp on it, anyway. I'm sure not many are willing to teach that around here."

"What's yours do, if it's feeding off your feelings." The natural question, and she does perk up having the ability to ask about something else. Anything not to think about herself for a little bit. Wouldn't it be nice to get away from her own bullshit for a little while. "Maybe it's saying more than you think?"

Of course, his comments on her being taught causes a stillness to smother that little excitement about a topic that isn't her. "I had someone teaching me, but I think I'm fine on my own now. Nobody else can really know what I'm feeling."

Finn supposes it's fair play that she's the one stumbling over the unintentionally loaded question. Well, maybe loaded is a bad way to put it when it's really just extremely difficult to answer.

"It's like... telepathy, sort of. Telekinesis. Read minds, float rocks, that kind of thing. But that's what other people can do with it. I can't float a damn thing. Still, it... gets out of hand if our emotions are-" He flaps a hand at the air, digging around for the word. "-hectic."

Despite trying to figure himself out, he does notice the reaction to his comments. Instead, he nods. "I understand. Other people can always give some insight, but... I get it."

"So... it can be a lot of things but because your heart is all over the fucking map it just, what, a problem?" Abby muses a little in her head. He didn't offer much she could really go on. cryptic would be the word. How to return the favor and be helpful. "Lean into it."

Abby leaned forward on the roof, legs dangling off the side of the building. She planted her hands on either side of the edge then her hair started to flow 'back' as if gravity was no longer from the ground, but from somewhere behind them. And she just casually dragged herself over the edge of the roof to sit on the wall.

"Not here, you could do some damage or something. But on the Horizon just- let yourself sit in that power, go as far as you like with you emotions, and see what it can do then? That's where I practiced doing this shit." See she wasn't just showing off by sitting on the side of a building like it was nothing. It was a show of what exploring your limits somewhere that dying just really hurts offers. This is way easier after practice.

"Then maybe you can see if you can read minds, float rocks, any of that other shit."

A problem is one way to put it, yeah. Finn was about to say as much and remark on this lean into it idea, when she suddenly just... went over the edge. It was so slow and smooth a transition that he almost thinks he watched the whole thing in slow motion. But no, she stopped to sit on the wall, defying gravity again like it's second nature.

Finn pretended he didn't nearly have a heart attack and tuned back into the conversation.

And honestly, what she says makes a lot of sense. Istredd had said something similar, and others like Erik have tried to encourage him. Finn's always taken the advice in stride, always put it on the back burner, but this is the first time he actually considers it. Like really considers it.

Lean into it, huh?

"That's not a bad idea. I think I'll give it a shot." If only he knew where to begin, but that's probably what practice is for. "Was it easy to transition from the Horizon to here? Didn't it feel different or something?"

Abby's little smirk was proof what she did had the intent of being terrifying but educational. It's fun to see people react to what she can do. It's a nice pick-me-up.

"It's not a replacement for the real world. Muscle memory or whatever the equivalent is with magic, so you'll need to do it again here. It's all about trial and error." Your body not doing what you're doing limits things. And it isn't limited to just- practice not building muscles. Human brains do weird shit to make it easier to do things again with practice. "But fixing damage I do on the Horizon is easier than if I had to pay for breaking shit here."

"It feels like the real world, but when you try it in the real world it's like you've never done it before. Think- like you're a little drunk, or trying to walk but your leg's all cramped up." Neither were good explanations. But she hoped the point got across. It'll be just a little wrong, just a little less sure, no matter how hard you worked on it in the Horizon. "But that's a future problem, right now you need to see how far your- vague powers, can go. Right?"

Abby raises some good points, and Finn appreciates the honesty that she gives about the differences between the Horizon and here, doesn't really try to sugar coat it. The way she compares it makes perfect sense to Finn, too.

"Like doing something in a dream before trying to do it in reality." It's not phrased as a question, but there's his guess of what that must feel like. Maybe he'll start small, learn the differences as he goes.

Maybe. Like she said, it's a future problem. The Force is all about spirituality, he's pretty sure. So if he can connect to it properly in the Horizon, that should translate here. Probably.

"You're right." Finn leans back on his hands, thinking the whole thing through. "And it makes sense. At the very least, it sounds like it can't hurt to try... Unless I somehow destroy the Horizon. That would be my luck."

He's gonna try, anyway.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Abby offered, a little cryptic because she doesn't know for sure how bad it'd be if the Singularity could be broken like a piñata. She's sure it'd be bad, but maybe it'd also kill all of the military efforts in all three factions.

And it'd prevent anyone else from arriving.

"And given you're here, I doubt you're that lucky." Twisting what was very clearly an attack on his own life into a positive. She's the queen of self-deprecation, she can see it in others. That's her attempt at being kind, as bad as she is at it.

"There's not a lot of this place you can control, so knowing all you can about yourself and what you can do is really the best sort of self-care you can get." Abby dusts her hands on her thighs and stands (yes still on the wall). "Thanks for burning some of your day listing to me bitch about my bullshit."

Maybe he isn't that lucky. Finn chuckles and takes her comment about self-care to heart, already making plans to go through the exact things she's suggested to him this evening.

"Thanks for letting me listen," he answers back with a smile, fully sincere and genuine. It was a good conversation. Somehow, one of the most enlightening since he got here.

But he doesn't think that went both ways, really. "I'd love to listen to more if you ever have any." Sometimes, an ear is all he can provide, and he has to believe that helps on some level.

Sincerity is weird, she looks dubious of it but... she doesn't have any evidence to doubt it either. Try. She has to at least try, right? Try to trust.

Baby steps.

"Oh, I think between who I am, and where I am, there will always be more bullshit." She's a seventeen year old ripped away from her whole life, into a world regularly in peril, with magic and monsters. Something can, and will, always go wrong.

Still, she smiled with that last line, waving lazily as she started down the side of the building. Like that's a perfectly normal way to leave.

It's not a real party until something's broken! (Open/Closed Prompts)

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