8133/Visiting Nettie

Visiting Nettie
Date of Scene:	06 October 2021
Location:	Candle, Booke and Belle
Synopsis:	Mairin Moran visits Nettie Crowe and receives a most basic lesson in magic, and with Nettie's help evokes a flame on a notebook page. Nettie is impressed b y Mairin's ability to copy magical circles, and tips her hand a little with sigils she knows -- for Mairin's protection.
Cast of Characters:	Nettie Crowe, Mairin Moran

---

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The Candle, Booke & Belle Shoppe was typically not very busy on the weeknights. A couple of people stopping in to buy loose tea. A couple people coming in with questions for love potions and getting a strict lesson in ethics violations in magic and consent. One very, very unhappy zealot who found the place utterly unbearable and left after a hot minute of a crow staring at him.

    And now, with most of the crowd cleared out and precious little time before the store closes, Nettie was doing what she does best in the downtime.

    She was reading a period romance novel with a pair of lovely ladies on the front in states of undress, and eating a scone that she's been picking the dried craberries out of.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin walks into the shop with a good deal more confidence then she displayed the last time she was here. This time she just seems a bit preoccupied. Not unusual for her, but unusla when she's getting ready for a class.

    She looks around, taking an esspecially close look at the books, as she heads to the tea table to make herself a cup. She has to shift her satchel, still packed with learning supplies, back farther to keep it from knocking over the teapot, but she manages to pour out a cup without too much difficulty.

    She spies Nettie... and the book she's reading... and the feintest hint of both a blush and a smile come to her face.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Evenin', welcome to the Candle Booke an'-" Nettie begins as the bells ring, and she looks up, and gives a smile. "Mairin! Evening, poppet -- what brings you 'round to the shop?" she questions, placing a bookmark in the book and stashing it under the table, and leaning casually. Today? Boddice top. Jeans. A jaunty hat over her gray hair, and she gives gives a warm smile to Mairin as she makes her way in.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    "I thought..." She glances to the door, then back to Nettie, not embaressed but deffinitly confused. "I said I would come by this evening after work. Didn't I?" It wouldn't be the first time she's thought she made plans but didn't, or made plans and forgot.

    Nevertheless, she strides forward to sit in a chair near Nettie's and pulls her notebook (the same notebook she took notes in during the introductory class) out of her satchel before placing it on the ground. "I've been practicing." She flips the notebook open to reveal about ten exact copies of the teleportation circle Nettie demonstrated. No sign of blood though... thank goodness. She's eager but not stupid. "But it never feels different no matter how much I try to..." she makes a vague hand gesture toward the notebook, "Push my will into it."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "-- cor, I forgot. Sorry, friend had a bit of a time last night with someone sending some... necromantic time bomb to him." the woman replies, tilting her head back "Need to update my calendar." she murmurs, and she drags a stool closer as she raises a hand, and the door locks. The sign flips. And the two are alone and will not be disturbed.

    "Well, I wouldn't expect it to. You don't really have the experience to determine what 'right' is yet -- but this... is actually pretty impressive work." Nettie purses her lips as she puts a finger down, and pulls the notebook over to her, and flips through the pages. "... amazing, actually. It took me years to develop my teleportation circles. Working to get this one down pat is nothing to be sneezed at--" she states, and then gives a smile.

    "Let's start with an easier one. Tear a sheet out."

    Nettie goes to duck into the back room. "I'll grab a book."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    It is just possible, as Nettie gets to the end of her copied circles, that she might see a few more that don't actually look quite right. Or rather... they're right, but with small additions or modifications that are too well incorporated into the design to be mistakes. Experamentation?

    Mairin eagerly tears out five page and sets the notebook aside. Then fishes out her pencil and is sitting with them grasped, paper in one hand and pencil in the other, by the time Nettie comes out. Like some kindergartener who'se enthusaism for school has yet to be dimmed by dull teachers and duller work.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie returns with a book. It's about ten inches wide, twelve inches tall, and five inches THICK.

    It appears to be bound in leather. She opens it, and flips a few pages, and then comes into a bunch of circles.

    "HEre, try this one." she states.

    She turns the book. The language on the book is in middle English, but it's hand-written, and difficult to read. The circle inside has two layers, an outer layer that was thick, and an inner circle. The inner circle has a few geometric patterns drawn into it, concentric circles with slash marks through them.

    "Try this one."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin gets her 'thinking' look on gets a book almost at thick as Nettie's out of her bag (something about electron processing) to draw on, and sets to it. Her hand is slow, careful and methodical. But it forms the circles almost perfectly. In fact that motions seems so practiced, so built into her memory, as to be almost rote. Then come the patterns within the inner circle. These are even slower, but with a caustion that comes from intense precision.

    It takes perhaps ten minutes, but by the time she is done, hers matches the example very nearly exactly.

    She frowns. "It's not quite right. I'll try again."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "No. It's near enough for the purpose of what we're going to do." Nettie states, and she sounds just... utterly amazed atthe copying skill Mairin has, and she raises her eyebrows a moment.

    "Now, put your hands on the paper. I want you to put your forefinger and your thumb on the outer lines, and I want you to visualize your will pooling ont he paper, like fog."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She frowns, not at the request, but at the idea that 'near enough' is good enough. Still.... She listens and does exactly as instructed. Forefinger... Thumb... And stare!

    She stares at the paper as though trying to burn a hole through it with raw determination. A look that would likely wither some poor freshman undergrad into tears. Possibly has...

    "I don't feel anything," she whispers through clenched teeth.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Relax. Take a few breaths. This room, everything around you right at this minute is imbued with magic. It might be difficult to feel in the middle of all this. Just focus on envisioning it. A fog, gathered in the middle of the paper, and then clinging to the lines. Outlining them. Breathing against it. And now, I want you to *demand* with the word 'Ignus'. With every ounce of your Will against this piece of paper and this magic circle."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Relax? Mairin squints up at Nettie and for just a second her face screws up in frustration, but it's gone quickly. Instead, she closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths before opening them again and staring once again at the page.

    "A fog... a fog of my will... pooling on the paper..." But the words don't really make any sense to her. How can her will be a fog? And how can fog seep out of her? And the longer it takes for anything to happen, the more frustration comes out.

    "I can't... How do I make it come out? It doesn't make sense..."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... here." Nettie states, and she draws her hands up and takes out a brush pen.

    "May I draw something on your hands?" she inquires, aquamarine eyes lidding and her eyebrows rising up. She holds out the brush pen in askance, inquiring gently.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin blinks, and all the frustration starts to ebb out of her at the sheer oddity of the request. "Ummm... Sure."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    A distraction to make Mair relax.

    Nettie takes a tea towel out from beneath the counter, and places it over Mairin's wrists, and very carefully -- without her own hands touching Mairin -- begins to gently scribe sigils. A three-layered circle.

    "Do. Not. Copy these." she states sternly. And Mairin may feel something cool and tingling against her hands where those sigils are inked.

    And Nettie's fingers are warm when they lift Mairin's hands, and she blows on the ink to dry it.

    Then Nettie places her own hands down, fingers and thumbs on the circle, with Mairin's hands on top of hers.

    "Magic is the application of will to the world around us. Like pushing something off a shelf. You have to push at the inertia of reality itself in order to make your Will happen, and Reality doesn't like to move." she states. "Now. Focus. Your Will. Pool it in the middle of the paper. And tell it to ignite."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    A sof pink starts to grow up Mairin's pale neck and onto her cheeks as Nettie draws on her and when she is done, Mairin is stuck staring at her hands on top of Nettie's for a second. Then she shakes her head and with a deep breath, she focusses. She doesn't have time for whatever thoughts were going through her head. This is a lesson. She has work to do.

    Slowly, she begins to focus down, through Nettie's hands, and into the paper. Her will. She doesn't force it this time. It feels wrong to do so with Nettie's hands in the way. As though she might hurt her, even though Mairin is positive she couldn't hurt Nettie if she tried. But the idea of it makes her push gently. Firmly, but gently.

    And little by little, she begins to feel it. And perhaps Nettie would too... Mairin's will, a large well of it built up over years of forced discipline. A childhood spent forcing herself to study, to excell, to be better. Not because she wanted praise or reward, but because she *had* to. And, with *that* will in hand, she pushes.

    And, little by little, she feels it flow through her hand... through Netties hand... and onto the page.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Now. Your will is in the circle. You've pooled it. Order it to ignite." Nettie states. "You can't hurt me like this. No more than I can hurt you. You are capable of this, Mairin Moran. Now Tell It To Burn."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin takes a deep breath, then utters the command Nettie told her, plucking it from her memory as easily as she can the chemical formula for photosynthesis that she learned as an undergrad. "Ignus." She doesn't yell it. Her voice is calm, but there is a strength in the singal word that belies that calmness. One forged of the same determination that has led her through most of her life.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    And in the middle of the paper, a little flame starts up, consuming the lines drawn on the paper first, outlining the circle in fire.

    Nettie lifts her hands off the paper as the fire grows, and forces Mairin's off as well. And then she reaches down, and grabs a metal dustbin and sweeps the burning paper into it as neatly as you please.

    "Congratulations. You evoked Fire with a burning circle." Nettie gives a grin, "... with a little help."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    The astonishment on Mairin's face as she stars at the burning page would be comical, if Nettie hadn't no doubt seen it a hundred times. "I... Did magic?" She looks to Nettie, to the bin, and back to Nettie and a giant childlike grin grows across her face. "I did magic!"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "That you did." Nettie states to Mairin with a smile. "Just a small bit. You'll need to focus that Will of yours like... winding up thread, I would think, would be a good visual for you. Rather than pooling smoke." she considers, and she closes the book.

    "Not bad for your first week. I'm proud of you." she smiles, and gives a nod down. "If you'd like, I have hand sanitizer. That should clear up the ink on your hands."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin beams at Nettie, then gets out the second of the five pages she tore out of her notebook. "But... You're right. Now that I know what I'm trying to do, I'm sure I could do better." And she begins re-drawing the circle. From memory. But she stops halfway through the internal patterns and looks up. "Can I see it again? I don't remember exactly how this went and I don't want to make a mistake."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "That's unusual. Usually the first invocation for someone who hasn't worked magic before wears them out pretty heavily, because it's a muscle you're not used to using. Give it a rest, for now, Mair." Nettie gives a small smile, and she brings the hand sanitizer from beneath the counter.

    "And mark my words. Those circles on your hand, strike them from your memory. They'll bring you nothing but pain if you recall them. Awful headaches, those ones."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She's obviously dissapointed, Like a chid being told they have to come home from the park, but it's just as obvious that she needs the rest. She slides the papers back into her notebook then leans back a little, examining the circles on her hands. Which might be worrisome, but her eyes have a slightly tired, faraway look rather than the intense one Nettie would by now know too well. Aftr a minute, she reluctantly washes them off.

    "When can I try again?" she asks, without the breakneck intensity of a moment before.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Give it a few days to see how you feel. If you break out in blisters, hives or have a sudden case of Stigmata, we may have to halt practical lessons and switch over to theory before we figure out how to resolve that." Nettie offers thoughtfully, in such a way that makes it difficult to tell if she's joking or not. She hands the tea towel over to Mairin so she can wipe her hands.

    "I'm serious. Those marks are not beginner's circles. Those I came up with another magician after far, far too much gin and scotch over one night in 1915. Those circles are over a hundred years old by design, and do something very, very special." she states, once they're washed from Mairin's hands.

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin just nods, her face thoughtful, and stands to get some fresh tea (her own having long since gone cold).

Then immediatly sits right back down. Or at least she tries to. But she misses and heads for the floor, one hand grasping franticly for the stool as she falls.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie reaches for the cup as Mair goes down! Don't spill hot tea on yourself that's SO NOT GOOD for your concentration!

    "MAIR!" she cries out, pushing herself half-way over the counter as she pulls the cup close so that it doesn't spill on her student. Protecting her, indeed!

    Her eyes peer down.

    "... need a scone, poppet?"

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairin hits the floor hard, almost pulling the stool down on top of her. When Nettie looks down at her she's blinking and holding a hand to her head. It take a few seconds for her to collect herself enough to respond. "I... Think so." She struggles back to her feet, using the stool for support and stands there unsteadily for a while. "I... caan't remember if I had dinner or not." She shrugs and sits down in the chair Nettie had been reading in.

    "Nettie?" she mumbles. Her eyes are closed and she's massaging the bridge of her nose.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... how in blazes do you forget to eat?" Nettie asks, and then she tilts her head back "no, no, don't answer, I know people who don't." she mutters.

    And as Mairin sits down in the chair, a moment later she would find a plate in her lap. It has a warm, buttered, orange scone, and some green grapes.

    "Yes, poppet?"

Mairin Moran has posed:
    Mairn smiles. Perhaps from the warmth of the plate. Perhaps from the aroma of the food. Maybe even from the notion of forgetting to eat. After all, that happens so frequently it's just her natural state of being.

    Or perhaps it's from none of those.

    "You have really pretty hands," she mutters.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... thank you, Mairin." Nettie states, and she looks at her hands, turning them over a moment as if it was the first time she had noticed them. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Your blood sugar must be low after casting. It'll get easier with time. Probably." she comments gently, "for now, have the scone and some grapes. If you want fruit juice, I have some in my fridge."

Mairin Moran has posed:
    She nods slightly, but the way her body is relaxing suggests she's not going to be eating anything right now either. Her hand falls, making a half-hearted attempt at the scone, and then.... Nothing. Save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... weird little one she is." Nettie murmurs gently. She takes a breath, and looks around before turning off the lights, and ducking down a little into the room beneath the shop and returning with a blue and purple afgan. The blanket is carefully spread over Mairin to keep her warm.

    "Corvax?"

    "Yes, yes, I'll mind the girl. You go do your ruminatin' and ask Addie's ghost for forgiveness." the crow tiredly replies, and grumbles a bit from his perch.