abraxaslogs | Open Log - Thorne Castle

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Open Log - Thorne Castle

Who: Nadine and OPEN
Where: Thorne Castle
When: June 12th and 13th
What: Meeting roommates, getting acclimated, exploring
Warnings: N/A, will add if needed

Exploring

There's little to do but poke around wherever they're allowed to poke around. And, while at it, slip out a few sweets from the dining hall to share with the less fortunate. Nadine made a promise, after all.

But there's plenty to see, in this area they're kept to. The library and the study hall are of the most interest, the books and practicing mages likely the most promising option for learning anything worthwhile. Their hosts are being very specific with what they say and what they don't, offering just enough information to avoid accusations of keeping everyone entirely in the dark. But still not sharing all they know, it's obvious there's much more going on than any newcomer is privy to.

That's alright. It's not ideal but it's alright. Nadine has her purpose to put herself towards, and she does. She can be found flipping through book after book in the library and muttering under her breath or quietly watching magic lessons in the study hall, eyes narrowed and lips pursed as she follows as best she can.

And of course, she makes sure to linger in the dining hall, idling by the offerings of food and perusing them seemingly casually. When she thinks she isn't being watched, she'll slip a small morsel of dessert or chocolate treat into her tunic sleeve.

Room 2

The idea of shared quarters is not one that Nadine is thrilled about. She'd already met one earlier, and somehow, through some blessed - or cursed - twist of fate, it's a friendly face. Sort of. She'd never met Lloyd before but she knows who he is, and any right hand of her husband's...he's on her side, is the point. Someone she can, to some extent trust. And who'll look out for her.

But there are two beds who's occupants she's yet to meet, and she's too pragmatic to imagine they'll be left empty. Especially now, the day winding down. It's been a hectic and long one, and Nadine's feeling it in her bones. She settles on her own bed, curtains open, and hands folded in her lap to contemplate her next move and wait for whoever she's stuck sharing her personal space with.

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The phrase 'look at what the cat dragged in' is one Nadine heard often growing up. And this guy? Is pretty much exactly what that phrase was coined to describe. He looks rough. Like a street fighter just in from a night of illegal back alley boxing. She's not going to ask.

He also seems vaguely mortified at finding her here. That's...slightly promising, at least.

"I...don't know. But I've met the other two people who are sleeping here, so you might be in the right place after all. Apparently the land of Thorne is very pro-coed arrangements. Or someone made a mistake and didn't know 'Nadine' is a woman's name."

Because if this man - another intimidating, imposing looking stranger - is rooming her, Nadine is officially the only woman in this room.

"This is Room Two."

Ronan, fully aware that he is an intimidating stranger alone with a woman in a bedroom, glances over his shoulder while he considers moonwalking right out the door. But he mutters, "Yeah, Room Two is where I'm supposed to be."

It's obviously not an ideal situation for him, either. Dorms have never been the best place for him, and now they're co-ed, too? Shit. Fuck. Maybe he should volunteer for a cell in the dungeons.

He's so fucking hungry.

Dragging his gaze back to Nadine, he sighs in defeat, "I'm Ronan. Sorry about this bullshit."

"It's not like it's your fault."

As discomforting as both Nadine's unknown roommates are, she can't blame either of them for the situation. They didn't ask to be here, they didn't pick this room. They were all in the same metaphorical boat, at the whims and wants of their power-holding kidnappers.

"You had about as much say in it as I did. Trust me, my husband's down in the dungeon, I'd really prefer different arrangements altogether. But..."

She shrugs and spreads her hands. What can they do?

His haggard state is not lost on her. She purses her lips, looking him over again. The phrase 'dead on his feet' jumps into her mind, and she finds it just as fitting as the first.

"Can I...get you anything?"

That question makes Ronan reach for his face, like he's checking for a nosebleed. When he finds nothing leaking out of him, he gives a jerked shake of his head.

She says none of this is his fault, but he's not so sure. If she knew what he could do, she probably wouldn't be so sure, either. For a second, he considers warning her, just so she can get a head start on fucking off if things go sideways. But he doesn't have a read on her yet. Maybe she's the kind of chick who would put a pillow over his head when the paralysis hits.

"You haven't seen the other guy around here, have you? Taller than me, cool scar, Pantene-commercial hair?"

He should have told Kylo when to meet him. Scheduled sleep just isn't something he's had to think about in a while.

"I've met him, but I couldn't tell you where he is now." A thought comes to her, and Nadine looks up curiously. "Did you two know each other already?"

Maybe that's a factor. While she didn't know Lloyd, exactly, there was a connection. It's something to consider, at least. How many people came from the same places, how many knew each other before getting pulled into this world.

"No," Ronan answers, though he wishes they had. "I met him right after I got here. He's supposed to help me with something."

But he doesn't want to get into the what of it all, so he carries on swiftly, "You showed up here with your husband? And they locked him up? That's fucked up."

No wonder she looks so sad. If Adam was in a cell, he'd probably burn the whole place to the ground.

...Fuck. That stings.

"Oh. I just thought...I sort of know our third roommate, we're from the same place, so I thought maybe that had something to do with it." But apparently not. The two scary guys were just fast friends.

"And yeah, it's not great. He's okay, though." As okay as anyone could be when locked in a cell, she supposes. Getting him out is her priority, but there's only so much she can do. "I've been down to see him. But they won't even say why, exactly, they're keeping those people down there. Or what they're going to do with them."

Any of them, really, but Nadine can recognize that she and her roommates are in a better starting position than the unlucky in the cells.

Ronan has a pretty clear idea what would happen to him down in that dungeon. He shouldn't have even visited. Just a few minutes down there felt like it cut his time in half. He touches his nose again, but there's still no sign of the nightwash. Soon, though. He can feel it coming for him soon.

"Three people from your world," he muses. "I'm the only one from mine, far as I know." Probably a blessing, all things considered. Is there anyone left who wants to see him survive?

That line of thought exhausts him further. He drags himself over to his bed and leans against it. He can't get too comfortable. Can't sleep yet. Nadine looks so breakable. Or does he only think that because she looks like his mother?

"You don't have a gun or anything, do you? A sword or some shit?"

Nadine gives Ronan a flat look before answering.

"...I'm an elementary school teacher from New Hampshire. I don't make it a habit of carrying around swords or guns." Usually. A few months ago she would have said she'd never even fired a gun, let alone carried one around. That's not so true these days, but no one needs to know it.

"Besides they took everything away from us, I didn't even have clothes when they pulled me into this world. And I think magic trumps guns anyway."

"It's not personal," Ronan drawls. "I'm from Virginia. Even the grannies at church are packing."

On the bright side, he doesn't have to worry about her shooting him in his sleep. Magic trumps guns under most circumstances, as Ronan has proven repeatedly over the past few months, but when the magician can't move, a bullet is perfectly effective.

"Have you learned any magic yet, since you're such a big fan?"

"I just meant that if you're planning on fighting back, I don't think a gun is going to do it." She doesn't blame him for wanting to, she isn't happy with the people of Thorne herself. They've taken her away from her life, separated her from her husband, and removed even the ever-present link between them. Nadine's angry. But practical enough to realize she can't do anything about it yet.

Yet.

"But I've been studying it, I wouldn't say I've learned all that much...I can probably light a cigarette without a lighter, but that's about it."

And it takes a great deal of effort.

"Not having any cigarettes, I can't really test the theory though."

Impressive. She's pegged him for a terrorist already. That's got to be some kind of record.

"Do I look like I'm fighting anything anytime soon?"

Nevermind that he looks like he lost at least one fight very recently. Ronan checks his nose again. Still nothing dripping out of him. Small mercies.

"I wanna see what you can do."

"Honestly? You look like you already were."

There's nothing accusatory in the words, just a simple pointing out of the obvious. He looks like he's been fighting with someone or something. Nadine wouldn't be surprised if he had plans of doing it again. Everybody had their skills, maybe Ronan's was his fists. She's not about to judge, not in circumstances like these.

"I don't blame you, at all. If I thought I was in any position to fight back, I probably would too." She hasn't exactly been silent in her displeasure, though her questions and concerns have all been brushed off.

"As for the magic, it's really not that impressive. And nothing the mages training in the training hall aren't doing..." She shrugs, but stands up anyway. She's not sure if she can do it sitting down, so far it seems like how she stands and how she holds her hands matters. At least now.

Ronan doesn't deny that he's been fighting, but he doesn't correct her assumption about the target, either. He's got the sense its best to play his cards close to his chest.

He suspects she's doing the same.

Leaning forward, Ronan fixes his attention on what she's doing with her hands. "I haven't even tried this shit yet," he confesses, "so at least you're better than I am."

"They seem weirdly interested in teaching us. Little things, but..." Well, Nadine has her suspicions. They don't need to be shared at this particular moment, she's not about to offer up every opinion she has about this place.

Besides, she needs to focus. Magic isn't a natural inclination for her, and she's only just started learning. She takes a deep breath, cupping her hands in front of her and looking down into them. Her eyes narrow, as do her lips, all three becoming thin lines in her heart shaped face. Think of fire. Picture the flame. Build it until it seems real...

She starts muttering under her breath, a repetition of the same few words over and over again as her breathing slows and evens out.

Eventually, as Nadine begins to sweat lightly, a lick of flame appears in her cupped palms, bright and dancing and almost an inch high...and it promptly snuffs out in a wisp of black smoke.

As he watches, Ronan unfolds from his slack position and stands to full height. What do you feel? asks the relentless voice in his head, now an unbreakable habit. And he tries — he really does — to find the energy between all things that must be powering her magic. He can see it with his own eyes. It has to be here.

He is so, so hungry.

When the flame snuffs out, Ronan blinks at the afterimage. He can't tell if the spell ran out because she's bad at it or because this place has been sucked dry. He can't fucking feel anything at all.

As if someone just dumped a bucket of cold water on is head, Ronan scowls and slumps back against the canopy post of his bed. He's in an even worse mood than he was two seconds ago. He might as well have asked her to wave a slice of cake in front of his face and tell him he's not allowed to eat it.

"That's all you got?"

Edited 2021-06-14 02:49 (UTC)

"Well, I just started learning magic at all yesterday, so yeah, that's all I can do." Hadn't she said at the start it wasn't impressive? She'd offered the warning for a reason, she knows it's next to nothing.

But some people always ignore what it says on the label.

"I've been trying to figure out summoning wind, but I haven't had any luck with that so far. Magic...isn't really much of a thing, where I come from. I've never done anything besides...the stuff every kid does, at some point, I guess. Messing around with 'spooky' stuff. But it was just kid games."

Except when it wasn't, but that's Nadine secret. That's private, something treasured and special.

Ronan waves a hand, dismissive — only the gesture seems aimed more at himself than at her. For fuck's sake, she's just a human. It's impressive that she can do anything at all.

"Sorry," he mumbles, scrubbing at his face, trying to keep the sleep from creeping in. "I didn't mean it like that." But he can't really explain how he meant it without getting into the whole thing, and he doesn't want to say more than he has to. Not when he's got Kylo to watch his back.

...Sometime soon, he hopes.

"I don't get how it works. The magic here. It's like it's everywhere and anyone can just reach out and use it, but then... I don't know. I know they said the summoning fucked us up and we'll get back to normal soon, but I don't get how one kind of magic can work but not the other. Same cord, wrong outlet?"

Maybe he'll close his eyes and electrocute himself.

"Interference." The word bubbles up to the top of Nadine's mind and slips out. "Like...radio waves and static. That'd be my guess."

Something like that. Whatever it is, it's strong. The magical static or however one wanted to explain it, it managed to even cut Flagg's magical legs out from under him. As far as she's concerned, Flagg's powers tread close to those of a god's.

"But I don't know. A lot doesn't add up around here. I hope whatever it is clears up soon, and they're not just lying about that."

Interference. That's right. That's exactly what it is. It has to be. Like a junkyard choking a ley line, only now he's the ley line and it's junk magic choking him.

"It wouldn't make sense for them to lie about it," Ronan says, kneading at his temple with a knuckle. "Why bring us here if they don't want to use what we've got? If they could just pick up any asshole off the street and teach them their trademark brand of magic, they wouldn't need to summon us from every other bumfuck universe. They obviously need what we brought with us."

They'd better. Or else Ronan's going to be dead within a week.

"Do they? I sure didn't come with anything. Maybe they just don't want to use their own people as canon fodder."

An optimist Nadine is not. Life has taught her, time and time again, nothing is free and nothing is ever as good as it seems. Or even half as good, usually. All of this? She's sure it's set dressing, prettying up something darker and more sinister. It's always pleasant at first, but then the reality slips in. Sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once, but it's coming.

It always comes.

"I just know when one group of people has power over another, it never goes well. For the ones without the power, anyway."

"No," Ronan says. Not a fearful or desperate denial of the circumstances, but a solemn understanding. "I'm not saying it'll go great for us, but we're not cannon fodder."

The people who want to kill him never delay in attempting it, because they know that if he gets a single opportunity to make his move, it's over for them. They hunt. They don't capture. The ones who try to capture him want something more valuable than his death.

"They know me. They know what I do. They wouldn't waste something like me when they could use a human instead." He glances at Nadine. "No offense."

"I'd say that would probably depend on what kind of cannons they're dealing with. Or maybe that's why they took people like you and people like me - maybe you're a battery. Besides, these wouldn't be the first people to waste resources they could use better. History is full of countries making really stupid decisions."

Nadine just can't dismiss the idea outright. Even if they took powerful people - and she knows they have - it doesn't mean they plan to utilize them well.

"Have you ever heard about the time ancient Athens tried to invade Sicily? They had the resources and the manpower and a brilliant general...and they said to hell with tactics and basically threw their entire army against a wall, threw their general under the metaphorical bus, and spectacularly lost to a much smaller and less prepared force. Good resources doesn't mean they'll be used well."

"Then why aren't we all in cages? Why put half of us in the luxury suites if we're just going to die?"

It doesn't make sense. Ronan is as paranoid as anyone, but there's got to be some kind of logic behind the way they've all been sorted and arranged. It would sure as shit help him figure things out a little easier if Nadine would stop hiding whatever she's hiding, though he's not feeling desperate enough to drag answers out of her. She probably has as many reasons as he does.

"Psychological control?" It's clear Nadine's only offering it as a suggestion, something she's come to after a bit of thought. "I've read about a lot of psychological experiments and research, and it's a tactic used sometimes. Create a divide where there isn't one. Treat one group differently than the other, make sure both groups know...maybe they're hoping we'll spend more time being suspicious of each other than them."

Or they just want to keep everyone off balance and guessing, again, for control.

"There's all sorts of ways to show and exert control that don't obviously look like it."

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Open Log - Thorne Castle

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