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Oh. Yeah. Hey, that's good--

[Pleased, he scrambles up so he can grab for his quill and manically dip it into the inkwell. The little tinc tinc ticn of the nib on glass sounds like a delicate bell.

Cheerfully--]

I would've asked Enchanter Rowantree, but I don't really know him, do I--and I'd be afraid to look a divvy in front of him. Whereas I know Enchanter Leander much better and he won't write me off if I do something stupid. I mean, I want to impress him as well, right, of course I do. But I reckon I can do with maybe getting Enchanter Rowantree to show me some things, like how Voss is showing me some Spirit magic, right--but the big bits of learning will be with Enchanter Leander. Sort of like as if we were at a Circle but much better 'cause, you know, it's not a Circle, it's just us.

[ She makes an uncomfortable face before she can think to guard it; why would she? She's never had reason to put on a front for Matty. ]

Sure.

[ The clinking of the quill nib against the ink pot is the only sound for a moment, and she lets out a little huff through her nose before standing up and starting towards Flint's desk. ]

The Commander's gotta have a stick of graphite you can use, 'stead of using up so much ink...

He might--but don't filch off of his desk!

[--Urgently, before Athessa does too much rooting around. One last tinc and Matthias has a quill ready to use anyways, but now he has to stop her from poking around too much.]

It's better practice to use ink anyways. And what was that face?

[ She's not rooting around she's just looking with her eyeballs until she spots a pencil and picks it and only it up with two fingers. ]

I'll put it back when we're done, don't worry about it.

[ Athessa resumes her spot on the floor and takes one of the least crumpled up lists and carefully unbunches it, smoothing it out with the list that Matthias wrote pressed against the floor. It's the back-side of the page she's gonna use. ]

I dunno, Matty, I just... [ She shakes her head, thinning her lips as she scribbles out a few different variations of "Things To Accomplish." Her handwriting is much improved, in part due to practice but mostly because she's now using her left hand, not her right. ] I can understand being an Enchanter at a Circle and keeping the title because it's familiar, but to choose to take a Circle title now, with everything that's going on...feels wrong.

[Satisfied, at least for now, Matthias sits back on the floor opposite her. Now he's holding an inky quill and he hasn't got anything to do with it except sort of hold it in his hand and look at it.

That's when he's not looking at Athessa, that is--which he does now, his nose wrinkled.]

It's not that it's a Circle title. It's that he's going to show me things and help me-- [Half a hundred little horror stories flicker through his mind, the Harrowing; he looks back down at the quill.] --generally. And that's important, like the most important, so there ought to be something that comes along with that, as like a marker. You're thinking of it wrongly.

Then he should make a new title for himself instead of perpetuating Circle bullshit.

[ She manages to make it sound more weary than pissed off, the latter of which might be her general mood regarding the Chantry and Circles right now, but might also be a reaction to being told she's thinking wrongly. ]

Whatever, just... [ Athessa scratches her head with the blunt end of the pencil and frowns down at her working titles. ] I don't know. I don't trust him.

[A little prickle goes through Matthias.]

He can use whatever bullshit Circle title he likes. Any of us can. 'Cause we escaped them, and fought in a war to do as we like, which I reckon includes whether or not to be using a stupid title as well as anything else. What d'you care, anyways?

What do I care?

[ How can he ask that? She stares at him, struggling between hurt and anger on his behalf. Anger, of course, that he never asked for, but that she feels all the same. ]

How can I not care?? You're important to me, Matty, and I don't want anyone treating you like you're beneath them.

Well-- well, yeah, I know that, I don't mean why d'you care about me--

[His ears go a little pink. He runs his fingers along the smart edge of the quill, where the feather was clipped down and shaped.]

But, look, no one's treating me like anything. I mean, I am basically untrained. Or not completely. I mostly learned what I know during the war. So--and you can't say anything about this, all right--but I don't know half of what practically every mage here knows, so. And I know that doesn't mean I ought to get treated like nugshit, right--but I do need to learn things.

[ She wants to say something about it, but listens instead. Because what's the difference between the training she's getting to be better at her job and Matthias getting taught to wield magic?

The difference is that she trusts Bastien, and not Leander.

Athessa frowns down at her hands and sighs. ]

I'm sorry, you're right. And I do trust you to be smart about it. But I don't want you to get hurt.

[ Or become something you're not. ]

[Matthias' smile has a bitterness at the edges of it. He runs his thumb back in the other direction along the edge of the quill.]

Yeah, well. If you've not heard, I'm a survivor. Nothing kills me. Reckon I can survive some lessons.

We've all got loads and loads to be worrying about, don't add me to the pile as well. I'll be all right. I always am.

[ Athessa keeps her eyes downcast, hearing the bitter cant to his mouth rather than seeing it. Seems like no matter how hard she tries to be a good friend she just keeps cocking it up. (Selfish.) ]

What else is on your list?

D'you still want to-- Yeah, okay, umm.

[Matthias grabs one of the discarded pages too, shakes it so it uncrumples.]

Goals, like. I want to be more in control. Like, so I don't ruin everything if I try to cast a spell, and it goes wild. And so I don't get so bloody angry.

[ Athessa nods and scribbles with the pencil. ]

Self-control, discipline...accuracy, maybe?

Mmm. Maybe. I think I'm fairly accurate, just that I've got to, y'know, concentrate on it. We did ages of training for accuracy so we could hit supplies and things from a distance. I can write my name with fire. But then things get going and I lose it a bit. Or forget.

[He spins the quill between his fingers, careful to angle it so that ink doesn't spatter onto the floor.]

[ Her eyebrows bob once about him writing his name; impressive. ]

Focus, then?

[ That goes on the list instead of accuracy, though her list is more of synonyms and possibles than the perfection he's seeking. ]

What's it like when you lose it a bit?

Yeah. Focus. And--well, losing it doesn't need to go on the list, but--

[He scrunches up his face as he thinks of how to answer.]

Bit like going blind. Like... I don't think about anything else. I know what I've got to do and nothing is stopping me from doing it, I just go on, and on, and on, and it's not until I'm bloody dead tired that I stop. Magic, like, it drains you. You know? Takes it out of you. That's what stops me. Like a trance. And then I don't quite know what I did, I just have these--images. Things happening around me and I'm just--burning things. Relentless. It's not bad, it's saved my arse, but it's not... good, either. I think.

But that's not just magic, is it. That happens.

I'm not putting losing it on the list, [ she assures, but her humoring smirk fades as she listens to him. It's not a foreign concept by a long shot, but it isn't something she can offer any advice on. It smacks of Deimos and his rage, of Poesia and her bloodlust, of Athessa's own tendency towards dissociation in the midst of panic. ]

Yeah. Yeah that happens. [ She thinks on it, introspective, perhaps a moment longer than she intends to, then clears her throat. Never mind that she's telling herself. ] List-wise I think that kinda falls under self-control and discipline, but I think using the word trance to explain it is useful. When you have to elaborate.

[He nods--looking at her, then back at the quill, then back at her again.]

You know what it feels like, though.

I do.

[ The pencil makes for a good object to fiddle with, which reminds her of the weight in her pocket — something to give him, but it's hardly urgent. It can wait. Knuckle to knuckle, over-under-over, she twirls the pencil idly while she speaks. ]

Sort of, anyway. For me it's less knowing what I have to do and getting it done than it is...something snaps and then I'm watching myself from somewhere else. Like I can see me, I see what I'm doing, but it's not me doing it. And it makes the memory go a bit off.

[ Is it better or worse than being in her body for the experience? Fingers twitch, flex, and release the way they have since last Harvestmere. ]

And I don't think it's ever saved my arse, either.

[Matthias watches her fingers, the pencil. He looks down at the quill again, held in his hands.]

Well, you're still here, aren't you?

[ Sometimes, is what she almost says. Because how can she claim to be here when she's pretty sure the person she used to be died years ago and is huddled in some deep dark pit within her, gnawing at her for want of a grave?

So Athessa presses her lips together into something like a smile and nods. ]

Yeah. I'm still here.

[ But is she a survivor? ]

[He shrugs. So there.]

Then it saved you. Obviously. And that's good, 'cause I wouldn't want to be in Rifwatch without you.

[ That pushes her something like a smile into actual smile territory, and she sets the pencil down. ]

That reminds me, I've got somethin' for ya.

[ She rummages in her pockets briefly and produces a set of woven bracelets. They're not the same as the ones Derrica gave him, of course, but Athessa tried (despite her colorblindness) to use similar colors when she made them. Her own personal touch is a number of carved wooden beads, etched with patterns of feathers and flames. ]

Since your old ones didn't make it.

[Surprised, Matthias smiles.]

Get out.

[He scoots closer so he can take the bracelets from her, turning them over in his hand so he can look at them more closely.]

You made these?

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