(no subject)

[iambetadraconis]

You'd think by now he knew how things worked at the Bar at the End of the Universe to recognise its weird whenever it sprung up...

He didn't talk to the drunken man; only passed him by.

Innocent, for a beginning.

And an hour after that, he'd forgotten even that much.

But when he saw that oh-so-simple-looking cube, with all those colours...

He spent a good three hours twisting the damn thing this way and that, trying to figure it out and getting steadily more annoyed with it, before giving it up as a lost cause and deciding to hand it over to someone else instead, so that they could share the frustration.

It ended up in his pocket. Presumably for later.

With that little matter settled, he went about looking for something else to do.

That's when he made another discovery.

Contrary to popular opinion, rocks are not dull. They're interesting. Unique. Fascinating.

And the bloody things have their own personality, that you'd only discover once you've gotten and spent time with two or three of them.

Five or six.

Ten or twenty.

And now here, at his home in Lunar, one of the rooms has been transformed into a ... kennel? Stable? Rockery? full of rocks and stones of all sizes and kinds, much to Elea's amusement.

Or is it annoyance?

Well, while her beau spends time dusting his granite companions, she's sitting downstairs waiting for someone just a little more inclined to talk about far more normal things than whether basalt is given towards playfulness, or if flint rocks are happiest in groups.

She examines the kettle that's steadily heating up.

He should be here any minute now...

Comments

[iambetadraconis]

"Well," she begins, offering the tea blend to Autor. A mix of fruit and spice that Elea's mother made and she brought to drink whenever she spent time at Rabastan's house. "Two days ago I sent Rabastan upstairs to retrieve something for me."

Her cheeks turn a little pink, and despite herself, there's a hint of satisfaction in that slight smile of hers.

Quickly she turns her attention to adding a bit of honey to her tea. Not because she's worried about Autor feeling scandalised—she's not worried about what he thinks is proper—but to get her mind back on track.

"He was fine when he went to get it. But when he returned he looked oddly annoyed about something, and had a slight whiff of liquor on him. And we don't keep the spirits in that room.

"And he certainly did not remember what I asked him to get. Instead he went straight outside and began gathering rocks.

"And here's the thing: he couldn't have been gone longer than it takes to get up the stairs, find what I wanted, and return. Certainly not long enough for him to have been pranked. It's not possible.

"The good news is that he still remembers to eat, but good luck getting him to talk about anything other than rocks."

She sighs.

"I've been a healer's assistant, so I should have some idea of whatever might be the matter, but my experiences are leaving me bereft of any possible answer."

[herr_bookman]

Autor makes a fairly educated guess about how long to steep his tea. He's a little surprised at how much he likes the taste. As he listens, he blinks at her blush, but can't ascribe it to anything. These two flush at random intervals whenever they think of each other.

He nods at the proper times in her speech, tracking the cadence. No wonder she's able to flirt so easily, he thinks. She's not as grating as most people when she speaks at length.

"Really," he says, hiding his smile in his teacup. "He was only upstairs for a moment? You're right, there's no possible way he could have been pranked in that time."

So Milliways is another secret he keeps from her. Interesting.

"What a strange case," Autor says, and drains his teacup. "Well, shall we go see to him, or wait for whatever this magical effect--and no doubt about it, this is magical--to taper off?"

[iambetadraconis]

Should he wish to, Elea can send him home with some of the blend, or write down what goes into it if he means to make it himself.

"Only a moment. I swear that's how long he was upstairs."

She traces the rim of the cup, wondering just what exactly could've happened to cause the sudden change in her lover.

Then sips at her tea.

It takes her a few minutes to finish the cup.

"We should. You certainly know a lot about magic, even though you likely can't use any of it yourself."

She makes it sound like it's a great shame that all of Autor's magical studies are going to waste because he lacks the ability to put it to real use.

Getting up, she makes her way out of the kitchen, then turns to see if he's following. "This way?"

[herr_bookman]

Autor just might have to ask; this really is quite delicious. "I believe you," he says. "That couldn't have possibly happened to him in a moment."

He nearly bristles at her next words, but then realizes that the tone isn't meant to hurt. It just does. And it sounds a little too close to pity for his liking.

How dare she make that assessment so casually?

The boy drains his cup with a single tip of his head, and gently sets it down on the saucer. "Yes," he says quietly, following behind her at a cool distance.

[iambetadraconis]

Then she'll give it to you. Both a packet as well as the recipe.

Unaware of his annoyance, she nods and resumes her lead to where Rabastan's rockery is.

Just as Autor probably suspected, the interior of the house is considerable. Several rooms are passed before they get to the stairs.

But when they do, it's only two flights up before they reach the floor Rabastan is on.

"Down the hall," she informs Autor.

From one of the rooms, a high-pitched voice can be heard. High-pitched, but very recognisable.

"Oh my. Ah, Althena. Is he baby talking to those rocks of his?"

Somehow she makes rubbing her forehead in annoyance look like a facepalming.

[herr_bookman]

All right, Autor was respectful at the door. He was respectful at the table. And he was respectful on the walk here.

Now he snickers. Autor opens the door without ceremony. He closes his eyes and grins. "Rabastan, I am going to love hearing your explaina--Oh."

To say Autor was quite a bit surprised when he opened his eyes would be quite a bit of a lie.

The rockery looked like a Zen garden had exploded. Rocks lined the shelves, taking up space on every surface. Some of them had outfits.

"So, it seems there are rocks," he says intelligently, to Elea.

[iambetadraconis]

Elea, however, is pinching the bridge of her nose.

This isn't an obsession here. Or if it was, what led up to it was merely a prelude.

Obsession or not, this has gone from "absurd" to "downright surreal".

And that look of childlike innocence on his face is not helping her remain upset by all this.

All these rocks.

"Well," she manages to get out. "I see you're taking very good care of all your ... rocks."

Elea isn't grinding her teeth, but it sure sounds like she would be had this been anyone else but Rabastan.

Rabastan, on the other hand, is beaming from what he thinks is a compliment from his girlfriend.

[herr_bookman]

After blinking at Elea for a few moments, Autor takes his sylladex--a leather-bound journal--out of his pocket and gently baps the wizard on the back of the head.

"Are you aware that you've worried her with this inexplicable obsession of yours?" he says, and sniffs. "Honestly, Rabastan, I'm appalled."

Tsking as he picks up one of the smaller rocks, Autor shakes his head. "I don't know enough about Lunar's magic theory to make an educated guess as to what's happened to you. How frustrating."

[iambetadraconis]

"Autor!"

"OW LAY OFF!"

Now it's Elea's turn to be appalled.

"There'll be no hitting my boyfriend here, young man."

"I'm not obsessed I just really like rocks!"

Elea is all >:I at Rabastan.

"You'll have to forgive us, love, but you are carrying this a bit too far."

"No, I'm not."

"Rabastan, you've never once mentioned to me that you wanted a pet. Let alone several. Why now, and why rocks?"

"Why not rocks? They're the easiest thing in the world to care for! Even a child could do it!"

"Small wonder that this is such a success for you."

The comment just flies over his head.

[herr_bookman]

Autor watches the game of volleyball with interest until the last spike, whereupon he promptly cracks up.

"Well, Elea, since there's no hope for him," the boy says, grinning wickedly, "shall we make dinner and leave Rabastan to his sentimental sedentary sediments?"

Well, Rabastan? his cheeky gaze says. Your move.

[iambetadraconis]

You just love to show off your verbal proficiency, don't you?

Even Elea thinks that was some marvelous alliteration there.

"What? No!" he protests. "I mean..."

"Autor's got a point though. Why not come down to eat? It's almost time for lunch, and your ... er ... friends won't be scurrying off on you while your back is turned. Honestly, I don't think they could run away even if they wanted to."

"But..."

"I'm sure they'll be fine while you eat. You're taking very good care of them after all."

He seems to be shuffling his feet, looking rather uncertain about this idea.

[herr_bookman]

But of course.

Autor gently takes Elea by the elbow, after looking to her for her consent. It's a pointedly friendly gesture; no stealing here, promise. "Well, come along," he says. "He's dithering too much to actually come down. Apparently he wants to spend more time with his 'pets' than with people."

Then he gushes as he tries to lead her from the room. "Besides, he eats so much, I bet you're a fabulous cook. Unless you don't do the cooking? In which case I will; no need for the two of us to go hungry while Rabastan sits in this drafty room."

[iambetadraconis]

Sorry Autor but this requires a woman's touch. The flattery is nice, though.

"Come downstairs and have something to eat. I promise you they'll be fine if you're not here to care for them for an hour."

"But..."

"Now, Rabastan."

[herr_bookman]

If that's a woman's touch, Autor finds it to be a double standard. Any effort he would make to order people around would be met with scorn.

The boy nods at them both and heads downstairs, only to put the kettle on. If she can coax the wizard down from his dusty tower, then all the better, but if she can't, well.

They'll just have to... make awkward small talk in the kitchen.

Oh, hell.

[iambetadraconis]

It wasn't meant to be an actual example of a "woman's touch". More like, a humorous example of what a "woman's touch" is not.

Well. While he fusses about the kitchen, she's still trying to pry him out of his hole in the ground.

It takes about ten minutes, but eventually one woman and one reluctant-to-be-here wizard show up.

Small talk just might be what's to be had: brief answers to questions asked with a clear desire to get back to what he was doing before.

[herr_bookman]

Autor is about as familiar with a woman's touch as he is--wait, whoa, that sounds terrible.

Still. The point remains.

The boy prepares three steaming cups of tea and gingerly sets them down on the table.

"So, Rabastan," he says, blowing on his drink and preparing himself for the onslaught. "What inspired you to collect rocks?"

[iambetadraconis]

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

We're surprised he hasn't gone scarlet yet, but, maybe his imagination hasn't kicked in yet? :]

Elea, meanwhile, is busy fixing up something to eat.

Sure smells good.

She is listening in though.

And then wishing she wasn't, because now that Autor's opened the flood gates Rabastan quickly launches into a monologue about rocks that's so long and involved she can barely pick out any words.

"Yes. Well. I'm sure they're quite fascinating, love," she says with barely-contained annoyance. It took her three tries to get him to shut up long enough to breathe. "How about, instead, you tell us when you became interested in rocks?"

Oh. When?

"About a couple days ago."

"And what happened two days ago that caused you to discover the ... joys ... of rock-keeping?"

Pause. He's ready for another monologue.

"No," Elea cuts him off. "Just stick to the exact moment."

"Somebody had left some rocks at a table, and. Well. I wanted to investigate."

"Table? There's no table in that room Rabastan. And apart from Autor—and Merissa the day before you became interested in rocks—we haven't had any guests over that would leave rocks lying about where you could find them."

[herr_bookman]

Nah, he's too busy trying not to cackle to worry about blushing. By the time Rabastan's done with his monologue, Autor has gouged tooth marks into his own knuckles and has to wipe tears away from his eyes.

"So you--really?" he says, trying to get a word in between the wizard's babble and his own muffled giggling. "You don't say."

Poor Elea.

When she makes the point about a lack of table in the room, Autor straightens up. Ah. He sips his tea calmly.

"I think I may have an idea of what happened," he says calmly, shifting his gaze from Elea to the rock-besotted man. "As you know, Rabastan deals with magics different from those on Lunar. I believe this situation is just as he says: he tried something new, and it backfired."

Then he smiles at Elea. "Actually, there was a matter that I wanted to speak with him about in private. I hate to ask that of you, but would you mind granting us some time?"

[iambetadraconis]

Elea doesn't need another request for privacy.

Feeling equal parts grateful to step out for a bit, if only to keep herself from strangling Rabastan—and she loved him too much to want to do that, and concerned that either Rabastan or Autor, or, more likely both, were keeping something from her, she nods and leaves.

"What?" is Rabastan's oh-so-intelligent question.

[herr_bookman]

Whereupon Autor promptly baps him on the head with his sylladex again. It's a gentle enough bap, but the music student finds he likes doing them.

"This is a Milliways thing, isn't it?" he says, burying concern under smug amusement. "Good heavens, Rabastan, I'd be shocked if you haven't eaten cursed food already."

He taps his chin. "So how to reverse the effect..."

[iambetadraconis]

"Augh! Stop that!"

Pause.

"So I stopped at the bar. It was there. Big deal!"

The big deal, Rabastan, is sitting three rooms down the hall, trying to enjoy her tea while she worries about your mental state.

"I didn't touch or eat anything questionable! God, what do you take me for? I've known about these things for some time!"

Moving a little ways down the table where the only way Autor can hit Rabastan for a third time is if he clambers up on the table, he gives Autor a sour look.

"And I only touched the rocks after I looked at them for a few minutes."

Which means any magics involved here fall under the "if the victim lays eyes on it" category.

[herr_bookman]

Autor grins at his reaction. Weirdly enough, it's one of the most genuine smiles Rabastan will see on the kid, if he's paying attention.

But then, of course he pulls an immediate facepalm as soon as the wizard opens his mouth. It's the second one he can ever recall doing. Congratulations.

"Do you even hear yourself?" he starts quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You looked at them for a few minutes. That's a long time to stare at a bunch of stones on a table."

He scoffs, folding his arms. "As you're well aware, there are many, many repelling charms in your branch of magic alone. Why wouldn't there be compulsion charms as well? I can't imagine that something wouldn't work via sight in a place as screwy as the bar."

Autor gestures to the hallway. "And as I said previously: do you have any idea how worried she is about you?" he says, and the sound is more a frustrated growl than anything.

Then he blinks, and steps back. "My word. I am not the person who should be reminding you that your girlfriend is more important than rocks. Magical rocks, but still."

He slouches. "So. You're the wizard. How do we fix this?"

[iambetadraconis]

"You're right about compulsion charms, Autor," he grouses, for a moment reluctantly glad Autor did not listen to what he was told not to do. "Except for one thing: who in their right mind enchants rocks?"

They're rocks, after all. Just garden-variety rocks.

And chances are, that's probably where they came from.

"Somebody must've emptied their pockets after spending time in the flower beds, then had to leave suddenly. Surely that's also a likely explanation for them being there."

Yeah, sure. Things lying around can be enchanted, but not everything.

"I'm not sure what's there to fix. Okay, granted, rocks are not what most people consider pet material, but why not?

"She might even enjoy the hobby herself if she tries it."

[herr_bookman]

"I'm sure she would," he says evenly, "and then you'd only have yourself to blame when she becomes so addicted to tending rocks that she neglects you in turn."

The corner of his mouth quirks a little. "And you'd deserve it.

"Who indeed! Think, man. It's not like Loki never visits the bar," he says, shaking his head. "Better than dumping ice on you, at any stretch. Would that I'd thought of this first and had the ability!"

[iambetadraconis]

"Or maybe we'd raise rocks together," he says in his how-about-that? voice. "Our shared hobby."

One of their hobbies.

"I don't know who this Loki is, or what he'd be like, but I'm sure you're the type who would dabble in things like compulsion or mind control magics. I mean, why wouldn't you?"

Dinner and reconciliation: two steps forward.

Accusations of "being the type to": one step back.