abraxaslogs | ( open — august catchall )

[ Julie had told Wanda that she would get a read on Matt, social media or no. It is an important part of girl code that if your friend is into a guy, you must dig up all possible dirt: where he hangs out, what his last girl looked like, who he follows on Insta and Twitter. But in the absence of an iPhone, she can make do with just direct interrogation to later report back to Wanda.

Luckily, it's not exactly difficult to hunt down a blind man who lives in the same building that she does. This is good because Julie wasn't exactly raring to comb the city with a fine-tooth comb to look for him. Instead, she just hangs out for a few nights downstairs, until she ultimately sees him tap his cane across the room and sit down. Her step is completely sure; there is no hesitation in the way she not just approaches, but takes a seat at the table across from him. Her elbow perches on the table and she rests her chin in her hand. ]

Howdy, cowboy. [ Her accent is sugar sticky, the American Southern one that sprawls across the map below the Mason-Dixon line. ] You and I haven't met yet.

( there's not too much of a crowd downstairs when matt makes his way across the room, sweeping his cane out in front of him to make sure he doesn't end up running into anything. he reaches a hand out to find a chair and then drops down into it, folding the cane up and putting it on the table in front of him.

it's not five minutes later that he hears the assured step of someone getting closer to him and while there's a chance they walk past, he just has a feeling that they're seeking him out. he doesn't make a move to show that he's expecting something and keeps his expression neutral.

sure enough, the chair scrapes as its pulled out and someone sits down. he tilts his head up, listening and when they speak, he takes not of the accent, the confidence in the speech and the way she's just joined him and files it away. )

We haven't. I think I'd remember you. ( so, he nods at her, a quick enough greeting. ) I'm Matthew.

[ If there is anything she has in spades, it's confidence. It rolls off her like perfume; there is no question in her mind about where she belongs. She belongs wherever the hell she pleases.

Though he can't see it, her gaze fixed on him is probably palpable. For the moment, it's rather benign -- she is sizing him up, but has not yet rendered her verdict. He's cute, in an entirely forgettable way. Reliable, ordinary profession. Then again, she pictures Wanda in her oversized cardigans and sweatpants, her low ponytails, the cabin. Even the suburban house she once showed Julie. Yeah, this lines up, honestly. He seems appropriately... low-maintenance.

Raising one hand above her head, Julie signals the barkeep for two ales, which are promptly dropped off. ]

And you can't even see the part most people remember. I'm Julie. You got here last group, right? I can't keep track of y'all anymore.

Yeah, last group.

( he mentally counts backwards in his head, trying to make sure that was right and when he knows that it is, he nods. he puts one of his hands on the table, fingers searching for the glass before he finds it.

he pulls it closer and tips his head forward, listening to her, the way she talks, the words she says, everything he can to get a good read on her just like she was trying to figure him out. )

I was trying to take a quick weekend trip to New Jersey and ended up here. I don't know, I might have gotten lucky. There's nothing really good in New Jersey.

Well, I never been to New Jersey, but I'm pretty sure this place is a downgrade. Y'know, what with the "no modern technology" thing. Hope you're into horseback ridin'.

[ Which seems like a joke, but has actually turned out to be somewhat of an issue among the Summoned. Lack of horse riding experience. The wagons and carriages are fine, but it's pretty frustrating to have to take the slower option because someone else doesn't know how to ride.

She leans back in her chair, swings one leg over the other, and tilts her head. The mention of a US state is actually more informative than he knows, given how many of the others are not only not American, but have never so much as heard of America. Explaining basic building blocks of culture, like religions and major holidays and all the other little things that everyone just knows when you're all from the same general society -- it gets exhausting. ]

Trip from where?

Closest I've been to a horse is those old westerns on television they show when it's either too early or too late.

( so, if he had to horseback ride, they were in trouble. he was pretty good at a lot of things but that wasn't one of them.

he's still being sized up and he knows it. he let's her look for whatever it is she's looking for, waiting patiently for her next question or observation. he can't been able to pinpoint exactly what drove her over here but he'd get there in time. either she'd just out and out say it (which he thinks is the most probable thing considering the confidence he's picked up on) or she'd do enough that he'd guess. )

New York. Ever been?

Never got the chance. I always wanted to go there, though. It was my second choice after LA.

[ Which she never made it to, either. The end of the world is kind of a downer when it comes to travel for pleasure. Or at all. Lots of walking.

She's not really looking for anything in particular -- she's just taking mental notes on the overall package that is Matthew. It's necessary, so that she will always have things to either praise or criticize, depending on Wanda's mood. Julie is a good friend, she is always available for a bitch sesh.

Making a noise of interest, she takes a sip from her glass. Her foot bobs in the air. ]

You travel a lot back home? Get around?

Not really. I don't exactly drive because —

( he motions to his eyes and then shrugs. )

No one wants me behind the wheel of a bumper car let alone an actual car. So, I tend to walk wherever I go and if I'm going somewhere long distance? Someone else drives. Just safer that way.

( for everyone. he sits back, fingers wrapped around his cane. )

I'll take the occasional trip but I'm mostly content with being in New York. I like it there, it's a good city, and it's where I grew up.

[ She chuckles. Honestly, Julie has known plenty of reckless types who drive like mad men; a cautious blind man actually sounds like an upgrade to some of them. Then again, she is from the kind of place where you're unlikely to ever be around enough cars that you'll hit one. It's just more probably you'll hit a cow that's wandered out onto the road. While she doesn't recommend hitting one with a car, cows rarely cause fatalities. ]

You should give it a whirl in the Horizon. Only place in the universe that you can do what you please without worryin' about dyin'. At least that I know of.

[ Raised in New York, that's something she tucks away. She has perceptions about city folk -- not bad ones, necessarily, but perceptions all the same. A New York City lawyer summons up certain images. Not that she thinks they're all true, but to survive in New York, he'd certainly have to be more talented and successful than he'd have to be in Kansas.

She realizes that this is not information she's supposed to know yet. ]

What'd you do for work in New York? I always heard it's hard to make it there.

You know, that honestly hadn't occurred to me to try. I'm still getting used to the fact that I can...do all those things there. It took me awhile just to get my brain to let me create a chair. And it was a fucked up chair but it was still a chair.

( he'd made it go away pretty quickly. but, with that suggestion of hers, he thinks he might try, see what it's like to drive since it's something he's never done before. )

Lawyer. And it is, you're not wrong. I wouldn't even know if I call what I'm doing making it there. I let my clients pay me in muffins sometimes. But in my defense, they are very good muffins.

( and they needed his help. he wasn't going to turn them away because they didn't have money. )

'Cause you're blind?

[ There's a small pause there. Julie tilts her head curiously, thinking over it. It has never occurred to her that the ability to see -- or lack thereof -- might make manifesting within the Horizon more difficult. Her connection to the Horizon, the Singularity, it's different from other people's. She can manipulate the Horizon's power in ways that others simply can't, even people she regards as much more knowledgeable and stronger in terms of magic. Wanda and Stephen and Kylo, they're all so masterful, but in the Horizon, they still have to form their objects and actions purposefully. With intent, concentrated thought.

But Julie doesn't.

For her, the Horizon is entwined with her very consciousness, twisting itself into solid forms before she can even have the specific idea. Like it can predict what she wants or needs, without any effort on her part. It leads her to whatever she needs to find, acts like her eyes and ears. It knows her, and she knows it. And it's nothing she can explain, but it gives her a different understanding of that magic than she suspects others have. ]

You're tryin' to force yourself to see what you want to make, right? Even though you don't know what it really looks like?

[ She wonders if there's another way. If she can teach someone else to use that magic the way she can, at least within the Horizon. She'll have to ask.

A smile, one that reads in her voice. ]

What flavor muffins?

Something like that. I haven't been blind all my life but it's been long enough that some things, I don't really know what they look like.

( he can create the basics, make a horizon that isn't a complete mess but it's never going to be intricate or detailed like some others might be able to make for theirs. )

I can have them described to me or I can try and pick up contextual clues as to what it is but that doesn't always work. So, I try and keep things basic. That and not really being exposed to magic before this place, it makes it harder to get things...right.

( he doesn't know if that's how he wants to describe it but it's as close as he can get. he shrugs a shoulder. )

Chocolate chip, if I'm lucky. Blueberry, if I'm not. I eat them both though.

Hmm. [ It may come off as disinterested, but it's not. She doesn't have a solution, not without doing some experiments of her own, and she doesn't want him to think she has advice on tap for it. She also is not about to explain why she asked. ] Did you figure out your power yet? I mean, unless you got some shitty physical add-on. Sorry if you did.

[ Julie knows several people who just got some dumb physical thing. Horns, eye colors, useless stuff. Hopefully, Matt has gotten a bit luckier. ]

Just as long as they ain't cranberry. No landlord would take cranberry muffins for rent payment.

I haven't figured it out yet but I admit to not having tried anything either.

( his own fault. he'd been too caught up in the whole...thought of this place and the inability to get back where he'd come from. he'd had to get used to the horizon and deal with the temporary memory loss and he'd just...forgotten about the powers.

but he already has the horns things going on, just not here. )

I've never had cranberry muffins so I think my clients are looking out for me. They know what's good.

( he'd probably eat the cranberry muffins anyway. )

Can I ask what your power is?

Lucky you. I had this aunt used to make cranberry orange muffins every weekend for church from October to February. My mama made me eat one every goddamn time, 'stead of the good shit other people brought.

[ She comes from a very large family from a very small town, where church was considered the most respectable place one could be seen. Eating the muffins was not a choice, it was an order designed to prove that they weren't the most white trash, heathen branch of the family. Just close to it.

Julie is... actually not exactly sure of how he will process her power. Having an invisible third hand isn't as impressive when the person can't see your first two hands to begin with. She doesn't say anything, just takes a sip from her mug, but Matt can most likely tell she hasn't moved an inch.

Certainly not enough to put a hand flat on his back between his shoulder blades. Which is where a definitively human hand gives him a congenial pat. ]

( if she'd moved, he knows he would have picked up on that even if she tried very, very hard to be as silent as possible. he knows so he knows that she doesn't move, just picks her mug up and sips from it. he waits, thinking this is the lead up to something and —

it is. when someone pats him on the back, he turns around like he'll actually be able to see whoever it might be. and when he senses no one there, he slowly turns back to her. )

Was that you?

[ He turns and the hand boops him gently on nose with one finger before it disappears, and she chuckles into her drink. It somehow remains entertaining every single time. ]

Third hand. It's invisible, and it ain't like, attached to an arm exactly, but otherwise it's the same as the first two. They're regular visible hands.

[ She tacks that on just for the record. She has two normal hands that can be seen with the human eye. Please take note, Matt. ]

Sometimes, you just randomly get a new thing too, seems like? I just got this... well, it's not really a spell, but it's a... thing I can do? This viper shows up, and then sometimes it explodes into butterflies. I don't know, I ain't really figured out exactly how it works yet.

( matt scrunches up his nose when he gets bopped with the other hand, rubbing at it like he might be able to still feel it there. )

Huh. That's —

( that's a lot. there's magic in this world the likes that he doesn't ever think he'll see again and he's actually being given the ability to use it himself. it's strange to think that he could gain spells like the ones she's gaining. )

Did you have any sort of magical abilities before this place?

[ No one had been more surprised than Julie the very first time she discovered that she was capable of catching a mug of ale from across the room. She'd been working as a barmaid at the time, saving money, and she still isn't sure how she first triggered it; all she knows is that she had seen the mug about to fall, and she really didn't feel like mopping it up. When the tankard fell, it didn't -- it instead was caught midair, no spill, and she could feel the weight of it in one hand while both of her hands were empty. ]

Nope. My world didn't have magic at all. [ Mostly. There was one man who'd had magic, but he'd come from somewhere else. ] And I got the hand before I learned how to do any real magic on my own.

That's good to know. Because while magic exists in my world, it's not something I was ever exposed to besides people taking rabbits out of hats on television.

( which, you know, not that kind of magic they're all exposed to here. but, if she'd come from a place without magic and she'd managed to figure it out and control it, maybe there's hope for someone hopeless like he is. )

I tried to create a tennis ball in the Horizon a few days ago and I don't think it was really all that right. But, I think that's partially because of being blind. I don't remember specifics of certain things so when I create them, they come out a little off.

I never liked tricks with animals. Seemed sorta wrong, makin' 'em perform like that. Roy got what he deserved.

[ She takes a slow sip of her drink, thinking. Well, if he's trying to visualize things he can't remember, then it stands to reason they would be wrong. It's almost like asking for a concept, isn't it? It becomes nebulous, variable. Her head tilts to one side. ]

Out here, if I say tennis ball, what's in your mind? If it's not, y'know, like a firm picture with details, then what is it? [ She pauses, tries to imagine a tennis ball without actually seeing one. ] Maybe that's what you should be manifestin'. You give that to the Singularity to turn into somethin'.

Fuzzy, green, hard. That's about it. It's not...I think when I tried to conjure it, I missed the white lines on the ball and it was too fuzzy. But I never really paid attention to tennis balls when I could see so —

( matt shrugs. there are some things that he'd taken for granted when he'd had his sight, things that not that he couldn't see, he couldn't really remember or he found what he did remember had faded with time. )

The person I was with told me what I'd missed but it was close enough to a tennis ball. But even things like orange juice taste different to me so when I make then, they're just kind of...different. It'll be something to keep in mind for me.

Why is it somethin' to keep in mind? Unless you're tryin' specifically to give whatever you make away, it's in your domain. It should make sense to you, even if it don't make sense to everyone else. And if you're givin' it away, they can shut up. They shouldn't be nitpickin' presents.

[ This is sound logic to Julie, actually. The Horizon is a space for their own needs and desires -- making things to the standards a seeing person would expect is outside of the point. All that matters is that the space functions for Matt, right?

The whole conversation has given her food for thought. She has never really considered trying to work around handicaps like blindness, but she's sure there must be a way to do it, to make the two different sets of needs compatible. For Wanda's sake, she's sure she can figure it out. God, she hopes it doesn't necessitate learning braille. ]

What does orange juice taste like, for you? I mean, I know that smell and taste are linked together, but I didn't know stuff would taste different if you can't see it. I guess I understand if you couldn't see and didn't know what it is, but if you can't see and still know what it should look like, it's still different?

Just in case someone else is there and wants to have a drink. Orange juice would taste different to me so if I created it, it'd be more acidic and probably stronger than what other people are used to. I wouldn't want to make their mouths shrivel up in pain and distaste.

( he rubs a hand at the back of his head, trying to think of the best way to describe what he tastes and feels and smells without giving too much away. )

I'm sure you've heard that when you lose a sense, the others kind of pick up the slack? That's what mine do. So, things might taste stronger to me in some aspects so if I try and create them, they're going to go by what I remember. Imagine how a lemon tastes? And then probably multiply that by about ten or so and that's what it'd taste like to me. Just stronger.

[ She considers this quietly for a moment. In the given example, the orange juice shouldn't taste different to them, right? Everything on the Horizon is based on the individual's thoughts and ideas, but that should mean each person is drinking their own perception of orange juice, not necessarily the perception of the creator. But again, it's something she needs to experiment with on her own. ]

Like superpowers. [ It's not something she throws out in a specific way, pointed at him -- it's more in the casual way she's heard it spoken about across television and movies for her whole life. She's never lost a sense, she only has the narrative that media's dictated. ] 'Least that's how I always heard it. That blind folk can basically hear movements and shit. There were blind people in my world who would learn to do that bat click-y thing. With echoes.

[ There is a brief pause before she hastily tacks on, ] Not that blind people are bats. Just... I know that I saw it on the news before.

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