I’d rather keep my shirt on
Fri Jan 3, 2014 01:29

“Well, it has to be real. I guess it’s like, the opposite of Vanishing things. So wherever stuff goes when you Vanish it… is the same place that stuff comes from when you conjure?” This was the part of magic where all the theory sort of fell apart for her. Potions made sense; you put ingredients in and they reacted and made a product. But this was like trying to imagine another color, or saying a word over and over until it didn’t mean anything anymore. It didn’t exactly lend itself to logic and explanations.

She didn’t know about water. Refilling was different—once you had a little bit of something, you could make more of it—but maybe there was just so much water in the word, or it was so easy to make, that it was an exception to the rule about food. Or maybe it didn’t count because it wasn’t food. “I don’t know. Professor Philpott used to do lessons where he made you learn all the anatomy of things you were conjuring, but we haven’t been doing that, so I don’t know what conjured things are made of. I guess they’re just held together with magic.” Ika didn’t need to dissect the mechanism. She thought Keith’s problems with making a Patronus were probably caused by the same overthinking that made him such a good Healer and potion-maker. The youngest Blackburn did way better with emotional magic.

Ika blushed. “I didn’t know we were on last name terms, York,” she teased. No, no, that was weird. It felt strange to call him anything but Nicco—even “Niccolò,” like all full names, was reserved for when she was mad at him. It was why it was so weird that he called her Veronika; only her parents used her full name, and only when she was in trouble.

“You have some feathers,” she said, reaching over to pull one of the largest ones from his hair. Based on the color of the feathers littering their desk, Nicco must have been too distracted to keep his spell going (Ika snuck a look at her little green bird to make sure that yes, it was still exploring the room with all its plumage). She ran a hand through her own hair, dislodging more feathers. It made her feel like Artemis or a wood nymph or some kind of wild goddess with an army of birds at her command.

Speaking of an army of birds… This spell might help with Into the Woods, for the doves Cinderella’s mother sent to help her. If Ika could make a hummingbird, she could certainly make a flock of doves—after all, she had until April or so to work on it. It might be a little difficult if she was in the booth, but Ika was sure she could manage.

This time with a white dove in mind, she raised her wand again. “Avis!” The bird that came out of her wand was a white dove, but it was the same size as her hummingbird. “Oh, no.” Ika sighed. It was a start, she supposed, but they’d have to be much bigger for the show.

  • Too sexy for our shirts?Niccolò, Fri Jan 3 00:35
    Niccolò flipped through the textbook, dark eyes flashing with piqued interest, grazing the hasty scrawl of inky notes that he’d left in the margins, trying to find a clue to the answer he sought.... more
    • I’d rather keep my shirt on — Ika, Fri Jan 3 01:29
      • Then I dunno what we have in common.Niccolò, Fri Jan 3 02:29
        “Like an alternate plane of existence where everything that’s ever been vanished is stored?” Niccolò wasn’t sure if that was exactly what she meant, but it sounded cool. “So everything imaginable has ... more
        • “No, I was thinking more like—like clay?” Ika wasn’t sure it made sense, so she elaborated. “Like it… it’s just unformed stuff on the alternate plane or whatever. And when you conjure, pull it back... more
          • How smooth do you think I think I am?Niccolò, Fri Jan 3 05:41
            “A world of clay.” Niccolò’s tongue darted out, licking off the chocolate still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “A world of limitless imagination. That sounds kind of incredible. Imagine if... more
            • You think you’re a smooth criminalIka, Fri Jan 3 19:59
              Ika considered Nicco’s take on the theory. “Well, I think,” she said, “you’d just turn into—into the clay, if you ended up there. Like the rest of things. You don’t get to be Prometheus and sculpt a... more
Click here to receive daily updates