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( Normally, Istredd is the one running the show here. Jack just helps out, answering basic questions, threading through the learners and making mild adjustments, taking notes, whatever. It's probably only because he's been such a consistent presence for so long that people even give him a chance the first time they walk in and see Jack leading things instead.

He's really not much of a public speaking kind of guy, but he's done it before on occasion. At least this particular version doesn't involve anyone dead or dying, an apocalypse, or his high school reunion.

Given the weather and the presence of several new Summoned that may not be familiar with Academic Magic, Jack elects to take things back to some foundational basic staples. They're going to spend a few lessons going over a Warming Spell, which if done correctly, should send a lingering influx of heat over the caster and chase away the winter chill for a few minutes at a time.

Feel free to ask him any questions, have spells go awry, or practice with each other! )

Edited 2025-01-08 20:58 (UTC)

( After classes end, Jack can be found for quite some time lingering behind in the empty classroom. Most of the time, it's because he's taking detailed notes of everything that happened to give to Istredd once he gets back — the spells they went over, where each learner was struggling, recommendations for improvement. Maybe it's overkill, but he's always done better organizing his thoughts if he can put it all into writing, and really, classroom observations are only one step away from journaling — something he does daily anyway.

People are welcome to stop in unannounced to ask questions, request some more private tutoring, or in some cases, request to take a kind of assessment to determine if they might qualify for a more advanced class than beginner level.

If he isn't expecting you and the meeting isn't pre-arranged, it might take a little bit of pointed effort to get his attention. He gets lost in his own world when he's concentrating on something, and becomes a little bit oblivious to his surroundings. )

Edited 2025-01-08 21:04 (UTC)

( Sam attends one class, the basics of the basics, taking copious notes on any provided parchment.

He settles on the group activity, a warming spell. He excels at it, as Sam excels at any academics he puts his mind to, especially something so concentrated.

Jack told him to stay back, and Jack was the teacher, so Sam assumes Jack is the Jack he spoke to. He's 97% sure. Waiting for people to file out, Sam steps up when he has an in, introducing himself. )

Jack? Sam. We spoke -- telepathically. I'm still not used to ... describing it. Or, doing it.

( The physical differences in these two people could not be more stark. Where Sam stands at a conservative eight foot thirteen, Jack is a very not-Hollywood average height of 5'9. Where Sam is absolutely massive in musculature, Jack is skinny — perhaps just shy of too skinny, now that Abraxas has helped him put on some weight. Where Sam is attractive and clearly healthy, Jack has dark circles under his eyes from a clear lack of sleep, and the chronically pale countenance of a guy that probably doesn't get enough sunlight either.

It's almost kind of funny that this skinny, sleepless dude claimed to be a hunter over the network only days ago — but perhaps lending a modicum of credibility is the fact that he's missing the smallest finger on his left hand, or that a careful eye might notice that from his right knee down his leg is a prosthetic made of metal. He's clearly a Guy That's Seen Some Shit — although to be fair, working for minimum wage in the service industry for any length of time will do that to a person almost as effectively as being subjected to a wide range of monstrous horrors beyond normal civilian comprehension. )

Sam, hey! I remember. Wow- don't take this the wrong way, but your handwriting definitely didn't strike me as Tall Guy font.

( Please don't ask him to elaborate on what Tall Guy font would look like. )

( she'd gotten there as the class had already been in swing, lingering by the door to watch the end of it with half-interest, just enough to see what the magic is like here rather than how someone is teaching it. no one needs her opinion on that.

when others start ro leave she steps around them, intent on asking him something. whilst she's here it would be rude not to )

Was that spell chosen intentionally or one you were told to teach?

( Oh boy, he doesn't remember this lady from the newbie class, and she sure does put off energy very similar to what he picked up on from Yennefer back when they first met. Which is to say, energy as in vibe, as in the general feeling that she could totally step on somebody's face and they'd apologize for it.

Which is fine, and not normally a problem — he has virtually no toxic masculinity hangups, and he's never threatened by women in power — it's just that... he's still pretty insecure about his teaching specifically. It's new. He doesn't know what he's doing with his hands. Her whole Vibe adds an extra edge of I know what I'm doing and you don't to the intrusive thoughts mocking him in his own brain.

Ah, imposter syndrome. Right, that's what that is. Cool, been a while since he felt that. Man, he really should find another therapist. )

I picked it. Why, was it- was that bad? That was bad, wasn't it? Or- good? Was it good? I don't know, I can't tell based off of your expression, your eyeliner wings are too intimidating.

( This is, for the record, delivered with absolute honesty and transparency, not even a hint of sass or irony there. Just full-blown word-vomit of truth. )

I wasn't giving an opinion.

( and she can tell that if she offered in the slightest he'd likely jump at it which is precisely why she doesn't, being her most neutral )

I don't know the magic offered in Thorne.

( or even who he is. the only thing that rowena does know is what she sees in front of her: it was a simple enough spell and he was capable of it )

Hence my asking.

( Wow, that absolute lack of opinion one way or another is... supremely unhelpful. Not even a single hint toward whether she approves or disapproves. And you know what? Oddly enough, that's exactly what his petty, contrarian side needs to decide he actually doesn't care. Everybody else seemed to like learning it, it'll be useful, nobody's going to freeze any limbs off in the castle — or at least, nobody that bothered taking his class.

So.

There.

Take that, ambiguous scary sharply-winged eyeliner lady.

He clears his throat in a way that he tells himself isn't awkward, and gets his shit — if not together, then at least loosely in the same general area. )

Well, to be honest, normally it's somebody else teaching. I'm just an assistant, but... you know, the whole portal thing... the usual teacher is in Solvunn. I figured it would be more useful to give it a shot and show people some beginner basics than to just... leave people to struggle through learning everything on their own. So.

( Thorne's resident unofficial mascot has never been more popular than she is this month. Castle natives and long-time Summoned are all pretty used to seeing her around in her 'first evolution', her base resting state — a raccoon larger than a particularly fat house cat, but with two radiantly glowing luna moth adjacent wings growing from her fuzzy back. At this scale, she's rarely more than a mischievous little nuisance on her worst days, stealing shiny things like forks and digging through the garbage if it's left unattended. Stage two is a different story, and... well, not very many people have seen that one.

What convinces Jack this is a good idea, ultimately, is the fact that there are a bunch of brand-new strangers Rita hasn't gotten used to, all filtering around the castle. Taking the opportunity for some positive reinforcement and getting her comfortable with new people might just stave off any accidental Stage 2 situations.

And so, as promised, he hangs out in the classroom after lessons have wrapped for the day. Rita herself alternates between scrambling up his shoulders and perching on them, or waddling over to try and rob the wallet of anybody in the room that isn't paying attention to her. He's got a stocked basket of food-based bribery prepared for the new faces to offer her, just in case the first impression doesn't go... great... )

Edited 2025-01-06 00:04 (UTC)

[ It takes Eddie some time to find the classrooms. He isn’t as familiar with—well, anything about Thorne, and who can blame him? He’s spent the last two and a half years over in goat city, and that’s all he’s really had to learn. He’s learned quickly that as incredible as it is to have all his castle dreams coming true, being in Thorne feels a bit like walking on eggshells. It doesn't help that he's merely a visitor here, likely taking up vacancy in another Summoned's room, but it's more than that. The general air of the place just feels like a warning to be careful.

So he has been. He's largely kept his dramatics to a minimum, hasn't done anything that would warrant being thrown in the dungeon. Truth be told, he should be making use of the castle’s larger and more impressive library, searching for the answers that Robin promised they’d try to find, but…he really wants to see this raccoon, so he takes a little time aside to do so. ]

Shit, uh—

[ He stops dead in his tracks just outside the room, holds up a finger to indicate that he’ll be just a moment, and then turns pulls all the rings off of his fingers, depositing them into his pocket one by one. His baseline nervous energy is already wildly apparent, so this could end poorly…or it could all even out! One never knows. Either way, he’s grinning when he turns back around. ]

Alright. No sudden moves, no freaking out, nothing shiny. Am I missing anything, or am I good to approach?

( If he needs help searching the library, he couldn't be meeting up with a better person, honestly. Before he started writing and teaching, Jack spent several months working in it himself. Re-shelving, mostly, but because of who he is as a person, the library's basically his second home. That might be a revelation they'll have to come to later, though. Very important things are happening now.

Raccoon things. )

Did you bring the ritual sacrifice?

( Given Jack's occasionally monotone, deadpan nature it might be hard to know whether or not he's being serious, and so after one long beat, he volunteers awkwardly: )

That was a joke. I'm just- kidding. You're good, come on in.

( The second he crosses the threshold, Rita's eyes lock onto him laser-focused, staring intently.

An imaginary tumbleweed blows through the classroom. )

[ That will have to come up late…for now, raccoons are the most important thing in either of their lives… ]

You know, man, I just offered my last ritual sacrifice to another eldritch being. But, uh, we’ll just say I owe her.

[ See, he’s got jokes too, though significantly less deadpan than Jack’s given the way he grins ear to ear. He’s either commonly ritualistically sacrificing things and incredibly happy about it, or he’s being sarcastic.

But his grin fades when he steps into the room and Rita’s gaze locks right onto him with so much intensity that he very nearly steps right back over the threshold again. ]

Jesus Christ—

[ Between Jack's earlier warnings and the creature's staring, he’s clearly a little unnerved, but to his credit, he doesn’t freak out! He even manages another hesitant step forward. ]

Does she have a name, or...?

( Hey, cool — you can learn a lot about a person by the way they react to ritual sacrifice. Either Eddie's got a solid sense of humor, or he really does habitually offer ritual sacrifices. Crazy how either possibility could be equally likely considering Jack's life and who he associates with. At any rate, he's optimistically assuming the former.

Eddie steps forward; the raccoon stares harder. Somehow. She hasn't started hissing yet, which is probably a good sign, but she's definitely Target Locked. The intensity in her black-eyed gaze practically has its own gravitational pull. She is staring directly at Eddie, through him, and into the deepest parts of his soul. She can see his past, present, and future. Like Anubis in the oldest mythologies of Ancient Egypt, she is weighing his heart and determining his worthiness to pass through the gates of the afterlife. She knows when he is sleeping. She knows when he's awake. She knows if he's been bad or good-- )

Yeah! Her name is Rita. ( A single one of her ears twitches at her name, but otherwise she does not so much as blink. ) Do you wanna grab something out of that basket to feed her?

( It's a pleasant offer that indicates he's either unbothered by, or completely unaware of, the tension in this moment. It could genuinely go either way, given who he is as a person. )

[ Eddie really does not like the way Rita is looking at him. It’s intense and unblinking, like she can see every scoring mistake he’s ever made in a D&D campaign, every embarrassing song he’s ever sung along to in the car, every single time he’s ever overcharged someone for an ounce of weed and laughed when they’d willingly paid it—

He isn’t a man who holds many secrets or fears judgment, but he’s not so sure he likes that. It doesn’t just feel like judgment, it feels like she’s singlehandedly determining the fate of what left of his life, right here and now. Eddie visibly cringes at the thought, but he still doesn’t freak out. He’s doing quite well, honestly, and as he urges himself forward to pick something from the baskset, he tells himself that he can handle a raccoon.

At least she’s not a duck. ]

Rita Mae, Rita Mae, come and visit me today—

[ He mumbles the lyrics to a not-so-old-by-his-count Clapton song beneath his breath as he inches toward Rita with the food, holding her stare like his second-life depends on it. After all, what if she’s one of those creatures that attacks in the blink of an eye? Then, to Jack: ]

Did she come through the portals awhile back?

( The good news about all of this is that Rita has an inherent fondness for weird, skinny nerds built into her programming by association. Which is not to say Jack and Eddie look alike, but there's just enough overlap to register in her Trash Panda brain, just enough to spark a little recognition.

The sardine in Eddie's grip probably also helps, like, a lot. Her target-locked eyes shift from his face to his fingers, to the smelly salty fish being offered to her. In the tense passing moments, she eventually raises one reachy-reaching hand to make grippy fingers toward the sardine. It's a lot like that scene painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, except instead of Adam meeting God, Eddie meets Rita — and also there's a dead fish involved. )

No, no, I uh- have this weird... tendency to just kind of... make stuff? On accident? I'm not sure if I made her, or if it's a Singularity thing, or what, but... yeah, she's from back home, no portals required.

( The moment it's within snatching range, Rita snags the food from Eddie's hand and stuffs it ravenously in her cheeks. )

I think she likes you!

( He offers pleasantly, oblivious to the way Rita on his shoulder stills to stare Eddie in the eyes in a way that could quite possibly mean think again motherfucker. )

[ Finally, Eddie’s lack of muscle mass pays off. Who would have thought it would all be thanks to a winged raccoon? He’s not terribly convinced, though. Not yet.

The moment that follows is still so tense that he clearly wants to bolt. Every fibre of his body is on edge, like one sudden move from Rita could send him from the room in the most Scooby Doo-esque manner possible. But he keeps Jack’s initial rules in mind, and miracle of miracles, he manages not to. A nervous noise escapes his throat as Rita reaches out to snatch the dead fish from his fingers, but that’s it.

It probably helps that she freezes him in place with that intense stare again. ]

Yeah, well, we do look uncannily alike when we eat, so…

[ He’s not terribly convinced she does like him, really. He thinks she just wants to dig further into his brain and his heart to see what kind of person he really is, and while Eddie considers himself a somewhat decent human being, who’s to say that a raccoon will feel the same? Maybe his trash offerings in the past weren’t good enough and she knows all about it. ]

Huh.

[ He takes the risk and offers her another dead fish. ]

And you just..have a winged raccoon back home?

( Eddie's second token offering of fish is taken before she's even swallowed her puffy cheek-full of the last one. It could just be his imagination, but did she just narrow her eyes at him afterward? Does she look faintly suspicious about him while maintaining direct eye contact and biting the head off of a sardine?

Surely not. She's just a raccoon. Just a magic, winged, glowing raccoon. )

No- well, yes, but she's usually way bigger. Check it out-

( Which is exactly all the warning Eddie gets before his tongue rolls through some bullshit that sounds like: )

Dracarys!

( Rita leaps from his shoulder in an explosion of mass and girth, billowing up in size, rising, rising, ever rising with pounds of muscle and fur and wings going wide, powerful, leathery.

He wasn't kidding about that dragon thing, really. She might not be Game of Thrones levels, but she's easily larger than a Clydesdale, and her snarling hiss sounds far, far more like a roar.

And then she leaps, hurling herself directly at Eddie. )

[ No, no, he knows that he’s not just seeing things. Sure, his. imagination run wild sometimes, but that raccoon just glared at him and very pointedly snapped the sardine’s head off. He watched it happen.

Eddie is still trying to figure out what to make of all of this when Jack says…something. Eddie begins to question it, but he doesn’t get the chance, because suddenly, Rita isn’t a chubby little raccoon any longer.

Eddie loves dragons. He loves all things fantasy, and he would probably have loved Game of Thrones had he lived long enough to watch it. On a normal day, he would be overjoyed with the concept of a raccoon who can turn into a dragon, but he has the preconceived notion that this raccoon-dragon already has it out for him.

She jumps at him, and all of Eddie’s nervous energy finally explodes. He screams, an almost impressively high-pitched sound, and scrambles right for the doorway, tripping over his own feet. ]

Jesus Christ! Shit, shit, shit!

( Eddie's initiative roll is higher than Rita's by just a couple digits, but unfortunately his move speed doesn't quite hold a candle. She launches herself forward with all her snarling might, tackling the poor guy to the ground and planting a good chunk of her immense weight on his bottom half, pinning him there beneath sharp, foaming teeth bared over his face, dripping glowing green spittle as she opens her mouth to-

-lick him gently across his face like grotesquely oversized Saint Bernard, leaving a trail of luminescent saliva in the wake of her serpentine, forked tongue.

Jack, from somewhere out of view behind one of her massive shoulders, calmly calls out: )

See, I told you. She likes you!

( The clicking-chittering sound she makes comes out far too baritone, reverberating from her chest, like a raccoon noise filtered through the gates of fucking hell. She sits back on her haunches — aka, Eddie's legs — her tail slowly wagging. )

Good girl.

[ This is it. Eddie is about to join a selective group of people who get to die twice. Who else is in that group? Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, probably Ozzy Osbourne…And here people said Eddie would never amount to anything…

Time moves in slow motion as Rita leaps at him, and he stumbles backwards, squeezing his eyes shut has he prepares to experience the sweet embrace of claws and teeth and death once more.

It doesn’t come. Instead, he gets a face full of saliva—and not even in the good way. He clenches and lets it happen, but he remains completely tense, heart beating fast and loud, like he’s still fully expecting the teeth at any moment now. ]

Does she…?

[ He still doesn’t get the feeling that Rita likes him at all, actually…He yelps and flinches as her tail begins to wag, and he just…feels like his soul has exited his body. ]

I, uh...I feel like I just aged twenty years…

( Of course she does, Edward! Do you think Queen Rita would deign to lick just anybody? Granted, she routinely licks dog food and dead fish, but that's probably, like, completely different.

At any rate, Jack comes to his rescue by pulling a full tilapia-sized fish out of a basket, whistling to catch her attention, and then hucking it into the air a few feet off to the side. This has Rita scrambling off of Eddie's legs, freeing him from her stupidly massive weight as she goes to snatch up the fish and stuff it into her cheeks.

And then he wanders over to hold a hand out to the poor guy still flat on his back, an offer to hoist him up, clear amusement in his features. )

Yeah, she tends to have that effect on people.

[ At first, he doesn’t take Jack’s hand. He just lays there on the cold ground, eyes on the ceiling, wide and unblinking. He’s been shaken to his very core by this event, and he just needs a moment to exist with his thoughts.

Finally, he allows himself to be pulled from the floor, still pale and still shooting nervous glances in Rita’s direction. He does believe she’d deign to lick anybody, actually, and he’s one move from screaming bloody murder for a second time. ]

Tell me the truth, man, how alive do I look to you after all that?

( It's cool, Jack's patient. He'll wait it out, and then haul the other guy up with a perhaps surprising amount of upper body strength for such a skinny dude. It's from digging, just, so many holes — long story. Not important. )

I'd give you a solid six and a half out of ten?

( He volunteers after a thoughtful moment spent appraising him. )

That's better than me on most normal days, so... good job.

( Rita, encapsulating the attention span of all Millennials these days, has completely lost interest in them both. She's far more invested in chewing on fish bones. Eddie's free, it seems. He's survived his wildlife encounter.

For now. )

[Look, Teddy fully intends to make it to magic lessons bright-eyed, bushy-tailed (why is this a phrase?), Hermione Granger’d minus the whole gross TERF origin, etc.

Only, Teddy doesn’t really sleep well or, occasionally, at all, on the best of days. In a new bed, and without the normal light and sounds they’re used to, they find themself up all night and, unusually, sleeping in.

The castle …well. Teddy’s good at spatial memory but it just needs way more exploration for him to have a good sense of it.

And…they maybe have a little bit of a thing about not venturing into classes or lectures late. First person there? Awkward, but fine. Last, after it’s started? Horrifying, unforgivable, might as well come with a neon sign stating “I’m a slacker who doesn’t prepare or care about your time”. (But only if it’s Teddy, naturally.)

So Teddy lingers awkwardly and — pausing to greet those she knows and hasn’t seen, which helps - peeks in a few moments after most others have filed out to see if Jack is still planning on staying, as mentioned.

He’s still there, but aside from the familiar dark-haired, angular form (albeit in much less modern clothing than Teddy is used to after only really hanging in the Horizon), there is a fat raccoon climbing his shoulders.

A fat raccoon with luna moth wings.

Teddy has to stop himself from clapping his hands in delight. Raccoons have always been kind of a mood(they’re up late, they eat whatever, they’re kind of anarchists, they see everything as a puzzle, and they band together for maximum chaos), but growing up in the woods means you do not feed the raccoons and, if you don’t shoot them or even maybe if you do, you have an ongoing war over your trash.

Rita is a raccoon that Teddy can be nice to. What.

She holds still in the doorway and murmurs — soft but not as hissed as a whisper - hopefully obviously to the raccoon:]

Oh hi there, darlin. Aren’t you a precious fat weirdo.

[…said in a tone of awe, like this is the best compliment possible.]

Your dude totally didn’t tell me you had wings. That seems like an important part.

[Okay, that might’ve been a little for Jack’s benefit. In a still hushed but more conversational voice:]

Can I give her a piece of pastry, or is that a raccoo-nono?

( For what it's worth, Jack's attire isn't that different from the Horizon. Yes, he's wearing some fairly antiquated pants and shoes, but over top of his tunic is literally just a black hoodie. He manifests them sometimes, particularly given how fucking cold the castle can be in winter. He hates the cold. Winters in Louisiana are brief and mild. It isn't uncommon for the days to hover around the sixties or seventies even in December. Snow only happens a couple of days out of the season.

Here, Thorne is practically fucking Hogwarts not only in theme, but in climate. It's freezing, so. Hoodies indoors 24/7.

Teddy's reaction to Rita is immediately amusing and a little charming, definitely not the reaction she usually gets from people — namely, mistrust, uncertainty, mild annoyance, and the desire to give her a wide berth. He isn't actually sure how she's going to react to it at first, but finds he isn't actually altogether surprised with the result.

Rita, as it turns out, is an attention whore.

Almost immediately, she starts reachy-reaching with her little paws like some kind of toddler requesting Uppies, which is precarious considering she's still balanced on Jack's shoulders. Her body proportions are not designed for grace, and she nearly wobbles off several times. )

Yeah, no, you can feed her just about anything. I'm pretty sure she's got the diet of a cartoon goat. I genuinely wouldn't be surprised to find her eating a whole tin some day.

Edited 2025-01-08 21:23 (UTC)

[Teddy’s faintly jealous of the hoodie, to be totally honest, though her default mode is stoic. West Virginia gets snow — a lot of snow, even, Teddy would say (she might or might not be correct, depending on your definition, but compared to most of Kentucky and Virginia, especially where she went to school, it’s not a lie). She likes a place with real seasons. But it does usually come in scatterings and skifts and maybe one big storm: more to the point, even a big house would be easier to heat than this Disney scale model brought to stony reality.

Their chilliness is set aside, though, because oh my fucking god, look at her tiny grabby hands.

Teddy laughs at the Situation Rita has gotten herself and Jack into (and the idea of her munching on a can), and reaches into the bag he’s started carrying with him, approaching carefully. Usually it’s more like a hip pouch but if magic’s going to be all weird, better to have most of your stuff, right?]

Well then, you’re in luck, Miss Rita, I nabbed some snacks for later.

[Teddy draws closer, tearing a chunk of sweet roll of some kind free, and offers it up. Just in case she decides to investigate, Teddy sort of squares her shoulders, glancing at Jack.]

Can she …actually fly…?

[There’s a vague ‘bumblebee flies anyway’-ness to the softly lucent wings, only even moreso. Her proportions end up giving off a slight vibe of ‘wearing elastic fairy wings from the Dollar General’ which. Honestly, somehow makes the whole thing more charming.]

I’m sorry I didn’t make it to class, by the way. [Teddy winces a little, feeling bad and also weirdly like they’re back in undergrad. Which was definitely not anywhere like this.] I woke up late, and by the time I got here, I’d’ve walked in right in the middle. What’d you all go over?

Edited (Juuust rewording shit as usual ) 2025-01-10 05:51 (UTC)

( This whole interaction is kind of a novelty, actually, and he's torn between feeling amused at the display, or concerned with the change in behavior. Rita's usually predictably unpredictable, but in a... different way than this. A predictable way. It makes sense in his own head, don't worry about it.

It's just strange that she hasn't even hissed once at Teddy, given that she normally hisses at literally everyone but Jack. Even Kyle still gets the occasional bout of attitude. What the hell. )

In this form? Kind of. It's more like... hovering?

( A bumblebee is a particularly apt visual image — but like, a fat one, that mostly bobs up and down instead of darting around with swiftness or grace. )

And don't worry about it, it's not like there's an attendance grade or anything, it's totally optional. We went over warming spells. I don't know about you, but I'm definitely not a fan of the cold. I figured it might be useful, especially for the desert dwelling folks.

( Not that it doesn't get cold in the desert at night, but Jack's not really all that familiar with the climate. He's just operating off of cartoon weather physics which has been, unfortunately, a more reliable system of education than the actual public schools he attended.

Throughout this answer, Rita has snatched the offered ritual sacrifice of sweet roll and used both hands to stuff it directly into her mouth hole, devouring it like some kind of feral goblin. )

[Teddy can't help but huff a laugh at the idea, like a fat, furry hummingbird or -- well, a bee, just managing to keep itself aloft. Then she pauses.]

Wait, do you mean she has another form?

[Teddy glances up at Rita, as though she's going to answer their question. Currently, she's nomming the hell out of the first piece of roll like she's never eaten before, so even if she could talk, it'd probably be through a mouthful of bread-pastry-thing. (She can't. Talk. Right? Teddy isn't exactly ruling anything out at this point.)

He grins softly at attendance grade, feeling both relieved and a little called out there. Warming spells, though, has Teddy's attention.]

Oh, we are right on the same page. I'm kinda jealous of the hoodie, honestly. I mean, we get all four seasons, more or less, back home. You know, mountains and all. But we don't live in castles, for one. Worst heating plan ever.

[Teddy could probably identify Jack's mistake if she really thought about it, but she's never been west of Kentucky, so her idea of desert is...yeah, kind of Roadrunner cartoons, unless it's a sort of vague idea of the Sahara or biblical Egypt. All of Texas and, anywhere generally covered by "The Wild West", isn't just tan and sandy with three-limbed cactuses and oppressive sun and maybe some plateaus that only exist in the far distance? What?]

Oh, yeah, I didn't even think about the Free Cities folk, they probably got a shock--

[Rita has finished gobbling and sort of chitters at Teddy, making grabby little raccoon hands. They laugh under their breath and offer another third of the roll with an over-the-top apologetic face at her, then keep right on talking.]

Would you be up for a quick recap?

Edited 2025-01-28 14:04 (UTC)

Oh- hold on, I can help with that-

( The hoodie thing, he means. It's exciting whenever he gets the opportunity to actually be moderately useful, especially with like... magic-adjacent stuff. As a bookworm of a kid that grew up on fantasy novels, there is something kind of neat and exciting about getting to live out the whole 'YA coming of age magic school protagonist' trope once in a while.

Granted, he's more of a scifi guy, but still.

Anyway, the point is, he can make them a hoodie. This is totally in his wheelhouse. It's not showy, it's not particularly glamorous, there are no CGI effects or sparkles, no silly incantations or foolish wand-waving, he just... holds up a hoodie. One that is just. Already in his hand. Was it there a moment ago? No. It's there now, held out casual as you please, totally normal. It's black by default, because that's mostly the color he tends to pick for himself. )

I can totally do a recap lesson. You wanna see her other form before we start? She can't hold it for very long, so it'll be a quick thing.

[Teddy quirks an eyebrow questioningly, but they don’t have much time because suddenly Jack’s just. Holding a hoodie.

It’s not even like, now you see it, now you don’t (or, really, the opposite). That would be a little more …temporospatial is what Teddy’s brain comes up with. But the hoodie just isn’t there, until it is, in a way that gently suggests perhaps it always did, sort of and maybe also it could just stop but either way there’s no trick at all to its current existence.

Teddy blinks.]

Hey, thanks!

[She tries it on, lighting up at the familiarity of a hood to shrug into, sleeves that tug down over hands, soft pockets to tuck said hands into (and also, yknow, store things in). Shit, it’s not only real, it’s pretty comfy. Literally the thing’s a band logo (or a stupid reference, but those usually aren’t black) away from being everyday attire back home.]

This is …great. Thank you, seriously.

Can you just — do that with whatever? I mean, I knew —-
[Teddy can hear the way this sentence is about to come out. They lean into it, pressing a hand to their chest overdramatically, deadpanning:]
I knew you could make my dreams real…

[He snorts a laugh.] Or at least my shitty nightmares. But I don’t think I knew you could manifest…You know, regular stuff, outside the Horizon and everything? That’s sweet as fuck.

[She is not going to ask him if he can make musical instruments. She is not going to ask him if he can make musical instruments.

Jack sounds legitimately a little excited to show them Rita’s other form, and Teddy would be a goddamn liar if they said they weren’t all in: they grin, fully intrigued. And a little bit endeared by his assurance that this won’t take much time. (”Well, I guess, if your flying raccoon’s shape shifting is quick.”)]

Uh, YEAH, I wanna see her other form.

[Teddy gestures to go ahead, taking a little bit of a step backwards. He’s not sure what the form is, but Jack implied Rita can fly better in it, so he’s thinking…more wing…?]

Edited (I can close tags >.>) 2025-01-30 14:07 (UTC)

( The questions come in a flurry of enthusiasm, with no real space in between for him to answer — but that's fine. He's happy to sit back, wait it out, and offer a small smile at that’s sweet as fuck. It triggers, in turn, a modest: )

Thanks.

( And then circling back to them all gets wiped off of his mental dry erase board by the whole Rita plan, and that small smile widens.

It's possible he might be slightly excited to show them — kind of in the same way that a dog owner gets excited to show new people how good their pup can sit, stay, lay down, roll over, speak!

Except cooler, because. It's a flying fucking raccoon. )

You might wanna-- take a couple of steps back?

( He suggests, following his own advice and backing up to make a nice, big space in the middle of the room. And then- )

Dracarys!

( Whatever she'd been doing is abandoned abruptly in favor of launching herself with a hiss and snarl into the air, where she begins to transform, acquiring mass and fur and muscle, her wings going leather, branching out wider, wider, wider-

And there she is, in all her glory, reaching out a now-massive hand larger than Teddy's head, demanding the rest of that sweetroll. )

[Teddy backs up a little further, lifting a nonplussed but curious eyebrow. Aside from the unavoidable kinda-Arthurian-or maybe-wacky-alchemist vibes the room has via its building materials (and some of the remnants of the earlier class), it feels very much like they’re making room for a pit or maybe a dance off.

Which would be cool, but not what Teddy expects from Rita’s other form.

She isn’t sure what to expect, quite honestly. It sure isn’t for Jack to intone Dracarys! like…90, 95% seriously — and Teddy has the half-instinct to give him a turn to camera kind of look about it, only, only —-]

[Teddy’s sharp gasp somewhere between shock and delight happens so fast they might go a little dizzy.

In a soft breath, tilting his head up to better see the transformation happening right fucking there:] Oh. My…god…

[Rita curves her now massive, still furry self down from the peak of her ascent, wings literally creating draft. Teddy stumbles back a little as she reaches —-
—- a huge, excitedly grabby paw. Complete with enormous raccoon toes. And also claws about the size of Teddy’s face, not to mention very sharp teeth, but—]

Oh. Oh. Oh, here!

[Teddy hastens to offer the full sweet roll from her bag, lifting it to Rita to take.

They dare to reach the other to touch her fur. It’s weirdly exactly like you’d think, at least, at her neck: several brindle-y layers, courser and thicker and then soft and floofy…just, scaled way up. Teddy lets out a small huff of delight. A giant raccoon-dragon. ]

You’re…kinda super badass, huh! Bet you could take Mothman. Don’t tell anyone I said that.

[Teddy glances across at Jack, grinning.]

Edited 2025-03-25 09:38 (UTC)

[ Julia attended Jack's lesson because she's brand new to Academic Magic and it's been fun to learn a new kind. She's hungry for all forms of magic that she can get her hands on and she's been spending time in the library reading through the books there. She's an excellent student and managed the warming spell with ease due to her long practice, but she was attentive and shot him reassuring smiles as he clearly wasn't entirely comfortable as teacher.

But let's face it, after their talk on the network, she's here to meet the raccoon. Julia absolutely loves animals and due to a gift from the Singularity, animals tend to love her right back. She joked about Disney Princess vibes but that often becomes true in Solvunn, where she can sit in a field and animals just come to her. It helps that she feeds them too.

She sees that Jack has the same idea as she spots the basket of food. She approaches him once other people file out of the lesson room and waves with a wiggle of her fingers. ]

Hi, I'm Julia. I want to meet the raccoon.

( He definitely noticed this new addition to the classroom — in part because almost every Summoned here is a new addition, but the fact that she seemed especially quick to catch on was impressive. Her and that Sam guy definitely have the highest aptitude of the entire class, and he probably won't be qualified to teach them for more than, like, two months before they start surpassing his level of teaching and probably need someone like Istredd for more advanced lessons. He knows a good amount of higher level magic himself after two years, but knowing stuff and being qualified to teach it are two separate things.

At her little wave and cheerfully declarative announcement, even usually-apathetic Jack can't help but smile a little. It really is very Disney Princess vibes, and he's not even a raccoon — or any other woodland creature. Although, really, he's probably only a few steps removed from the former given his whole... everything. )

Yeah, totally! There's a basket over there if you wanna grab something to feed her. Things tend to go more smoothly if she's got something to stuff in her face, which is honestly pretty relatable.

( In the meantime, Jack wanders over to the desk and pulls out the large bottom drawer — temporarily repurposed into a raccoon drawer, apparently, because as soon as it's open a little furry head pops out like a meerkat to periscope around the room. )

[ Julia teaches magic in Solvunn too so she does understand that becoming a teacher isn't actually that simple. She thought it would be easy until she had to explain how to do magic to other people and realized it's not as easy as 'so you just do this, okay?' Jack's doing a great job for someone who doesn't have the experience at it, she can see that clearly. He's got this sort of shy vibe to him, it reminds her of Quentin. It's the soft eyes too. She thinks the two of them would get along.

Julia's been wearing dresses since adjusting to Thorne and it makes her feel like she's Guinevere or something, so she has to smooth out her skirts before crouching down and offering Rita something from the appetizing options Jack gave her. She loves raccoons, they truly are the best trash pandas that ever existed. Rita may or may not feel that automatic click some animals seem to around Julia. ]

It is very relatable. I think I've been stuffing my face a little too much in your dining halls here.

[ Solvunn has very clean and good food, she's never been down on their offerings, and honestly, it's much healthier no doubt. But Thorne is a grand castle with incredible everything and she's maybe had too many pastries at this point. Also all the different kinds of alcohols. ]

So is she from your home or did you make friends with her here?

( Boy, he can relate to overdoing it on the pastries here. Mostly because- )

Ever since Carmie showed up, the food's been absolutely insane.

( Like, seriously, it wasn't bad before, but now? It's like on some whole other magical level. He's starting to think Thorne magic is going to shift from specializing in Academics to Culinary based solely on that guy's kitchen rizz. Which, coincidentally, is a thing Rita almost fucked up for all of them back on like day one. Fortunately, they worked it all out, but. Still.

The aforementioned trash panda seems only slightly more wary than the average woodland creature, perhaps belying that she's got a little something Extra going on under the hood than your run-of-the-mill squirrel or badger or whatever, but she does come around surprisingly quickly. Quicker than she tends to do for most people, even, because she doesn't just take the offered berries — she fully clambers her rotund bottom out of the drawer to circle Julia once out of pure curiosity, and then she reaches up to wrap her trash panda burglar fist around a lock of Julia's hair with surprising gentleness. )

She's from home, believe it or not. Wings and all. She's usually bigger back home, though. Like- permanently, I mean. She doesn't... switch back and forth like she does here. That one's new.

Twinkie guy? He's amazing.

(Not only because he offered to make things people missed from earth, although that's the only thing she knows about him. The food here is definitely more indulgent and fancy, plentiful although she wonders how true that is of other areas than the castle walls. In Solvunn most people are on the same level, it's one good thing about them.

Julia doesn't shy away when Rita puts her little paw in her hair, she lets her do it and smiles kindly. She's used to having all kinds of flowers and dirt and branches in her hair these days and she can tell it's meant as an affectionate gesture. She probably would flinch more if it was a New York City rat, but maybe she wouldn't, at this point. She likes animals.)

You know ... I'm not sure I've heard of anyone else who got like a pet or creature from home show up here? That's not in the Horizon.

( Julia's own adorable animal sidekick is a red dragon the size of a medium dog who flies around the Horizon and has made friends with other creatures within it. Hudson is adorable. But outside of the Horizon, she wasn't sure if people could actually have that sort of thing. She doesn't have any creatures that she would bring here, but hmmm. She studies him thoughtfully.)

You wouldn't happen to have manifestation magic, would you? Did she come from the Singularity or did she come from you?

( Twinkie Guy earns a pleasant nod — yeah exactly Twinkie Guy! Jack's had the good fortune to try a variety of his food, and it's all impressive, but there's just something special about the Twinkies, isn't there?

Rita, who takes this passive permission as active encouragement, meanders even closer to start quickly clambering up Julia's person, intent to perch on her shoulder or slip up her shirt or poke her head out of the back of Julia's hair, or- a thousand other things that she's a little too chunky to pull off with anything even remotely resembling grace or nimbleness. Jack makes no move to try and intervene — Rita's her own creature. She might not be feral, but she's hardly domesticated in the same respect dogs are. She has, like, four commands she's willing to follow without question, and everything else is more like a negotiation. )

I- actually, I do have a manifestation... thing. I started taking magic lessons because I was doing it on accident, hallucinating stuff into reality, sleepwalking up some accidental drive-by dream set-dressing around the castle, it got kind of- dangerous. She showed up before I really got a firm handle on it, so I'm actually still not sure if I made her or if the Singularity did.

( He keeps meaning to ask it when he visits, but it slips his mind every time. )

Edited 2025-01-29 18:05 (UTC)

[ And Julia's passive permission is there. She lets the raccoon climb and burrow to its heart content. It's not like she can hurt her. Her skin is supernaturally tough so no nails can scratch it really and the only thing she might have to do after this is wash her hair. She laughs when Rita nuzzles into said hair and gently reaches out to encourage her to perch on her shoulder or partially rest on her head if that's easier with her paws. ]

Yeah, I mean any power is dangerous when you're using it unconsciously and out of control. Luckily training is always an option. It's good you did that.

[ She pats Rita's back as she would pet any cat or dog in her area. ]

I don't know, she's giving off Horizon pet vibes, but in the real world. It could be either. But maybe some part of you wanted a friend and thought of her and voila.

[ It's definitely possible with manifestation powers. Julia doesn't know how much she could manifest but she can with plants pretty easily. She hasn't stretched those limbs as much as she could. Since he has a background in the ability it seems like he might be the answer more than the Singularity. ]

Are you still sleepwalking and hallucinating? Maybe you need something to soothe your mind at night.

( To be fair, his manifestation powers are only any stronger than the occasional inexplicably hallucinated item, temporary dead person cameo, or glimpsed nightmare monster because of the singularity in the first place. At the end of the day, whether that power caused it or the singularity did it directly, it all kind of comes back to that one giant rock. Back home, he had the occasional psychic tendency, his mind conjured up the occasional coffee cup or deceased mentor or one deus ex machina handgun that one time, but it never went any further than that — and, being who he is, he never bothered to even question it, let alone pursue it. It mattered way less back there than it does here.

It's the follow-up question that takes priority in his mind, and he scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly, dipping his eyes as he thinks about how to answer this. About how honest he wants to be, or at least, to what level of honesty. He still has a hard time identifying that line between answering a question and oversharing, and he's not sure how people seem to be able to inherently identify it. )

I appreciate the thought, but I have this... medical condition, a sleep disorder. Nothing really helps it much, I was on a few prescriptions to mitigate the symptoms back home, but symptom management is kind of all anyone can do.

( The sleepwalking and hallucinations are an unavoidable and unsolvable problem due to the nature of the beast, unfortunately. Or- maybe somewhat fortunately, it's come in handy a few times in clutch situations. It seems to offer him some kind of natural built-in defense mechanism against sleep and memory related supernatural influence, even at the deific scale, so that's... nice. )

ɪᴛ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴇᴀʀ, sᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴀʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴇ

ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴀss;

ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴄʟᴀss 1:1;

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ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs;

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if you’re dropping old stuff feel free to make this a wrap — I just needed to tag SOMEONE

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