Scene #9609:

Owner	Pose
Calvin Nash	Spring is in bloom on Ossabaw Island. Arrival here is easily had by the manmade Warpgate, which exits into a gatehouse built around it. Two people in uniforms like Calvin's--a pale, rail-thin, redheaded guy with a scraggly goatee and a stout, athletic woman with sepia-brown skin and ombre corkscrew hair bound in a ponytail. Two demons also stand guard, a hoary old dwarf pulled straight from Norse legend who stands roughly as tall as Skipper, and a beast with a human head painted in white and red adorned in a Chinese minister's headdress, below which sprouts a wild green mane. It has a tiger's body with teal and black fur, and membranous insectoid wings. The redheaded guy takes Skipper's name, and so long as they're on time, Calvin isn't hard to find. In fact, he's waiting right outside the gatehouse, in his truck. It might take a minute to recognize him as he's not in uniform, but he flags Skipper down before they can wander too far. The boughs swampy island's mixed-growth forests are weighed down with moss, and, in some cases, such as the American dogwoods, the newly-opened buds of their flowers. The scent is fragrant, although the buzzing of bees isn't as present as it ought to be. They're not nonexistent, but nor do they seem as abundant as the time of year should suggest. Once Skipper's situatied, Calvin takes the truck out of park and heads down a crushed-oystershell road. He's wearing a red-and-black flannel tucked into tight faded blue jeans, along with a black cowboy hat and a pair of square-toed beige cowboy boots. "So. You got any experience with magic? Meditation?"
Skipper	Skipper's on time. Skipper is actually kind of early, and they act a restrained sort of hyper the entire time they're having their information being taken. Training's about to happen, finally! They've been asking around for it for a whole six days, it's taken long enough for things to work out! "I brought lunch boxes!" is one of the first things they say, after (effusively) thanking Calvin for making the time for them. "One for you, one for me, one for that biker guy who's your partner..." "... Though he's not here. Is it his day off?" Skipper doesn't act like they're at all upset that Hell Biker isn't present. "... So there hasn't really been magic like I think you're talking about, for something like... forty years, in my world? We have mana batteries but those are for things like powering ovens and lamps, you can't cast spells with them." "... Meditation is... that thing monks do, in fantasy books?" That's a no there too. "Oh, the flowers smell nice!" Skipper looks out the window. "Maybe we can have lunch outside when we break." Their focus is clearly anywhere besides meditation right now.
Calvin Nash	"Oh, thanks." Keeping his COMP-arm on the wheel, Calvin flips the monitor up and taps a few buttons on the keyboard. The lunchbox Skipper brought for him disappears in a tiny cloud of green binary and data artifacts, as does the one for Hell Biker, after which Calvin closes the screen. "I'll break into that a little later." "Hell Biker's here," he says, patting the COMP. "So's everybody else. This thing stores demons as data so they don't gotta go all the way back to the demon world. Saves us both energy that way." Calvin's COMP buzzes--though he doesn't bother opening the screen to see the message, assuming that it's something from Hell Biker. "Forty years, huh. Well. S'pose a blank slate's got its advantages. Meditation means..." He pauses, letting the ribbons of sunlight dance across the dashboard as the truck passes under the wooded canopy. "Cuttin' out bullshit. Not lettin' your mind run you ragged, thinkin' 'bout why you think what you think. Or," he says, "It can mean focusin' on one thing in particular. But for us, it's gonna be both--get you calmed down to the point where you can start to kinda... look at your mind instead of swimmin' in it. Magic here's got a lot to do with the 'self.' So we gotta get you used to thinkin' of that as..." He takes a minute to decide on a word. "As an idea." "We're gonna do it outside," he says, "'Cause it's a good habit."
Skipper	"I see... The demon world is really far away, then?" Skipper listens. "That sounds easy? It sounds easier than trying to worry about everything all at once, really..." "... Calmed down to the point where I can look at my own mind instead of going swimming in it. That's... interesting." "I mean I've always just sort of been... I mean it's easier to change things about myself than go thinking about myself too much, I guess? At least for the things I figure that I can change." "... Unless you can think yourself a few inches taller, and I've been missing out on that this whole time?" they attempt a joke.
Calvin Nash	The center of town passes by, with bunk houses built on earthen mounds. Calvin slows down a little here, owing to the number of kids out and about--especially given that some of them chase after the truck shouting hellos at him and Skipper. "Ain't a question of how far, exactly. Like," Calvin explains, "We couldn't drive there in a truck, or fly there, or swim there. It's crossin' through a threshold, and it takes a lotta oomph to do, even now that the threshold's been thrown wide open." He spares a moment between conversation to wave out the window at the kids, and at a few adults and elders variously working at chores or relaxing about town. "Demons and magic are pretty closely related," he continues, taking a fork in the road past the old Spanish mansion that is the Marshal HQ, where among the bustle of Marshals about their business or preparing for assignments a few wave. He waves back. "They come from the same place. And that place is..." He trails off, then raps the dashboard with his palm. "This world here is a world of stuff. The dashboard's plastic. You and me, we're skin and bone and muscle." "But the demon world, the Expanse, that's a place where emotions and ideas and stories are the 'stuff.' A castle over ain't a castle 'cause it's made out of stone that got mined, and cut, and laid, it's a castle 'cause somethin' strong enough, or enough somethin's all at once, felt like there oughta be a castle there." "So to bring somethin' that ain't flesh and blood into a world where flesh and blood's a requirement for walkin' around, all of that's gotta get spun up. And you still gotta have enough emotional energy, enough... water, from that sea, for that thing you're bringin' over to have an identity. When me and you were born," he says, gesturing out to the coast, "There was a little, teeny tiny drop in that sea that got made or set aside, that represented the idea of us that our parents and the doctors and whoever else had in their minds, plus whatever... barely-there kinda idea of 'us' as separate from the world we woulda had as babies, if we had one at all." "And that--the little drop in the sea, and the flesh and blood, all got tied together at once, and anything that wants to get from the Expanse to Earth has gotta have enough energy to check all them boxes." "As mages," he says, "We're pullin' from that world to turn an idea or a feelin' into 'stuff,' too. So today, we're gonna start with the basics, which is meditation and awareness." The truck pulls up at a shoreline where the trees gradually terminate into rows of reeds dancing in the mostly-calm black water as the wind gently carresses them. Calvin drops the truck into park and cuts the ignition.
Skipper	"Emotional energy... water from that sea," Skipper repeats. "Enough to build a castle." "Meditation and awareness... awareness of what?" They look out the window again, at the reeds, and at the way they move in the wind. "..." And then to the waves. "Is this the ocean? I've never been before..." "Right, sorry. Meditation, and awareness. Building up enough water to build a castle. I can try, but that sounds like a lot."
Calvin Nash	"We ain't gonna start you off there," says Calvin. He unbuckles his seatbelt, then opens the door and climbs out. He flips open the COMP and-- Hell Biker: Well well well! If it ain't the hotshot monster-killer. Gee, why DID they do it faster than us, anyway? --dismisses Hell Biker's message with switfness, accessing his inventory to call up a beach towel. He snaps it outwards after it materializes, then spreads it on the beach. "What we are gonna do is get you to where you can feel out where the water is. So to speak," he says, glancing at the literal water just a few yards away. "Take a seat," he says. "Close your eyes." "Concentrate on your breathin'. Follow the air with your mind--all the way in, all the way out. Don't think about nothin' else but that, 'till you almost start to forget where you are or what you're doin'."
Skipper	"An actual beach towel..." Skipper seems momentarily more excited about that than the whole 'learning magic' concept. "Okay, alright. Sitting, closing eyes..." They do so, sitting with their knees up, hands at their sides, eyes closed. "All the way in, all the way out..." Deep breaths. Skipper tries. They stop thinking about anything else. They focus solely on their breathing. All the way in, all the way- Abruptly their eyes snap open and their head snaps to the side, staring. "... Thought I heard something. Sorry." They reset their position, close their eyes again, and try to get back into it. All the way in, all the way out. "... If something actually does jump us out here, you'll keep watch for it, right?" They ask, eyes still closed.
Calvin Nash	"This island's the heart of the Assembly. Nothin's gonna jump out," Calvin says. "Now concentrate." "Keep it up. I'm gonna ask you some questions and I want you to ask yourself, right now, while you ain't thinkin' 'bout other shit, so you can be as honest with yourself as you can. What'd you think you heard, just now?" he asks after giving them some time to get back into the pattern. He waits for their answer, then, "Why'd you think you heard it?" Another pause, and then, "How'd it make you feel, to think you heard it?" And maybe the most difficult so far, "Where does that feeling come from?"
Skipper	> "What'd you think you heard, just now?" "Something about to attack us." > "Why'd you think you heard it?" "Because that's what it usually- no. Because that's what I've been training to hear. What I've been trying to hear." It takes them a little longer to get back into it after answering that question. There's a new thought on their mind that takes a little bit more effort to dismiss. > "How'd it make you feel, to think you heard it?" There's a brief blush of embarrassment crossing Skipper's cheeks. "A little upset that I'd let my guard down?" > "Where does that feeling come from?" "I..." Skipper says, trying to answer the question right away, trailing away with their lips half-forming the next syllable. A moment passes. Their mouth closes. Their mouth turns slowly downward, into the hint of a frown. "Is... it okay if I don't answer that?"
Calvin Nash	Calvin can't hide his own frown--though it's not at all judgmental. Just the opposite. "It's okay if you don't answer it out loud," he says. "But, if you can't answer it in your head, then you ain't gonna get far." "Keep it up," he says. "In and out. Ask yourself where that feeling comes from. Now, ask why you didn't wanna answer it. Ask where that feeling comes from." "Do those two feelings come from the same place?" And, maybe the strangest question, so far-- "Who feels those feelings?" "Who is 'Skipper?'"
Skipper	> "Ask why you didn't wanna answer it. Ask where that feeling comes from." "I don't want to be out here for the wrong reasons." > "Do those two feelings come from the same place?" "Yes." > "Who feels those feelings?" "Me. Skipper." > "Who is 'Skipper?'" "..." Work hard enough and you can save the world. Work even harder, and you might even come back alive from it. "Skipper is..." How many people have you met, who talk about how many lives have been lost or upended because of the Beasts? How would you feel, if your grandmother or cousin and all of your friends were one day saying those words about losing you? How would you feel if you stopped, if you slowed down even for a moment, if you weren't fast enough to intervene, if you weren't smart enough to find solutions, if you weren't hardy enough to keep going? And then another stranger has that same tale to tell instead? Who's this person who's subjecting themselves to that, willingly? > "Who is 'Skipper?'" "Someone brave enough to pick up a sword, and someone too stupid to not put it back down afterwards," is what Skipper finally says, with eyes that are now more 'screwed shut' than 'closed and relaxing'.
Calvin Nash	Me. Skipper. "Good." Calvin nods. Someone brave enough to pick up a sword and someone too stupid to not put it back down, afterwards. "Okay. Now," Calvin's tone of voice is authoritative--but, unusually for him, reassuring. A guide rather than a guard. "What you're feelin' right now, you can't ignore it, but it don't have to be in charge. We'll come back to that later. Aight? Take a minute, get your breathin' right again, relax your shoulders, and let's get back to it." Calvin gives them a moment to compose themselves, then begins the questions again. "In and out. The Skipper that feels that way, and can't put down the sword? That's a story." "Stories get told. To tell a story, you gotta know it. For a story to be known, it's gotta be kept." "Where's 'Skipper' kept?" "When people back home think of you, what shelf do they pull that story from?" "It ain't a place you can walk to. It ain't a place you can climb to, or swim to. But everybody can reach it. People have known how to reach that place since before there was names. You go there when you think about somebody you love, or somebody you like, or somebody you hate. You go there when you gossip, and when you talk shit. You go there when you daydream, or when you think about what a 'hero' is." "When people tell stories about heroes that's been dead a hundred, two hundred years, they go to that place to pull from whatever wasn't written down. And even some of what's written down pulls from that place." "Put yourself in that place. Reach out to it with the front of your mind, 'stead of the back. Make it into a place you can feel. Like when a window gives off heat in the summer. Hold out your hand," he says. "In and out." "Now. Let some of that place into this one."
Skipper	> We'll come back to that later. Aight? Tight nod. > "Where's 'Skipper' kept?" "At home." > "Put yourself in that place." At home. On the shelf above the fireplace, with the photographs... - Calvin didn't mean a literal shelf, surely, but it still feels useful to have an image to put to it. > "Now. Let some of that place into this one." Skipper tries. They think about memories. They think about heroes, about stories. They keep their hand held out, their eyes closed. Reach out to it with the front of your mind. Feel it, feel the heat of it. The fire in the fireplace, the heat and the light and the flickering shadows it casts across the room. The photographs, the mementos. The feelings, the memories. Skipper tries to let it in, to let that place flow into the palm of their outstretched hand.
Calvin Nash	"Aight. Now." Calvin pauses--he's never taught someone this before. But all of the steps are here; this is how his mother taught him. "Cup your hands like you're tryin' to keep water from spillin' out." "That 'water' in your hands, we're gonna use it. Take that feeling, that emotion from before, that came from the Skipper that can't put down the sword. Remember it ain't in charge. Put that feeling into your hands. Let that water flow into that feeling until you feel it in your hands." There's a faint smell of iron in the air. Skipper can't see it with their eyes closed, but little wisps of purple vapor travel from their hands, too. "Concentrate. In, out." A weight presses into their hands. There's a feeling of fatigue that gnaws dully at the edges of the mind, similar to sleep loss in the way it wants to draw them towards zoning out. The shape in their hands is cold and uneven, like some kind of geode. "Step outta that place and open your eyes." "Good." In their hands is a lump of purple metal in a crystalloid formation, roughly palm sized and cold to the touch. "Awareness of the Expanse is the first thing a mage has gotta have to do magic. You won't be able to reach it on other worlds just yet. But makin' magnetite from your own reserve, that's good, safe practice. Now." Calvin frowns. "How high you climb, and how much you can do," he says, "That's all on how honest you can be with yourself. To get from here," he says, pointing at the lump of magnetite in their hand, "To here," he says, conjuring a ball of rimy cold in his right hand, "Is gonna take some discomfort. More of them questions about who 'Skipper' is and where those feelings come from." "If you can't be honest with yourself, you hit a wall--if you're lucky. I'm 'on let you think 'bout that, and if you wanna keep on, you can meet me back out here again sometime. Deal?"
Skipper	Skipper blinks, feeling tired suddenly. > "That's all on how honest you can be with yourself." "Great," they mutter. "That'll be easy." The sudden wave of fatigue has temporarily faded away their otherwise cheerful veneer. They figure they're allowed to be a little bit bitter, a little bit sarcastic, just this once. As a treat. Skipper goes to shake their head clear, getting at least that little boost of awakefulness from it. "I mean it worked, at least... I was prepared to accept being told it wouldn't at all." They listen to the remainder of Calvin's warning, including the > if you're lucky part, nodding seriously. After a few moments, though, they seem to come to a decision. "... The first time I went to fight, I was... I think your partner would put it 'pants-wettingly terrified'." Skipper knows he'd probably put it in a much less nice way. "And I still went back out there a second and third time." "If I can do that, I think I can handle some discomfort, and some... being honest with myself." "... I think, right now, food, though." Skipper's also been looking forward to the lunches their cousin packed, which turn out to include handwritten notes thanking Mr. Nash and "Mr. Biker", and one reminding Skipper that they're an invincible hero that can tackle any challenge so learning magic should be easy... which Skipper doesn't seem all that enthused to read. Maybe that's another facet of where some of these feelings are coming from, though that'll have to wait till next time.