[Shortly, Matthias arrives at Adra's door. He knocks once to announce his presence before entering. His trepidation is plain on his face, no matter how many times he has tried to dispel it by slowly exhaling and rolling his shoulders. He thought that he was learning to accept the gifts he had once condemned, but now that he is the one wielding such power it unsettles him all over again. It has made part of him a stranger to himself.]
Hello?
[Shutting the door behind him, he looks about the apartment.]
[Adra calls Matthias to the central room, where he's sitting, cross-legged, at a big coffee table. There's a book open on the table with several freshly pressed flowers in it; Adra's writing notes near various parts of each flower, noting the colors of the petals, the shape of the leaves, etc.
He sets the quill down as Matthias approaches, patting the plain white couch behind him.]
[When he's troubled, it tends to seep into his expression — but somewhere along the way it twists into something sharp and dark. So it must be because he looks ready to throw a fist through a wall that Adrasteius offers tea.]
Tea would be good.
[He tries to sound and look more neutral. He also tries to lose some of the tension from his body as he seats himself on the couch, and probably fails. His shoulders remain rigid, his spine upright, as is his habit.]
[Adra leaves Mat where he is for the moment as he heads into the kitchen. He returns just a moment later, holding a tray with a teapot, two cups, and a plate of buttery croissants. Did he have all of this actually ready beforehand? Perhaps! Perhaps.
He gently pushes his other books aside, sets the tray down, and then sits on a chair across from Mat.]
Take a sip.
[It's honey mint; sweet and refreshing.]
The most important thing about magic is presence of mind.
[A quiet thank you as he takes up one of the cups in his big hand.]
Presence of mind... It is like any other skill, then.
[He blows the steam from the tea and waits a moment before raising the cup to his lips. The liquid tips down his throat soothing and hot. His shoulders finally slope in something more like relaxation.]
It isn't called magic where I'm from. Magic is what people tell stories about. Grisha call what they do the Small Science. I don't know all that much about how it works, because I only needed to understand how to defend myself against it, and how to fight back. But not understanding it is what made Grisha into monsters in my mind. So...I want to understand it better.
That's correct. And like any other skill, it takes practice to master.
[He rubs his chin at Mat's explanation.]
Small Science, huh ... it's true that there's a theoretical framework behind every school of magic. Formulas, calculations, structure. But the kind of power you've been gifted with doesn't really demand that sort of intense study.
[He sips his own tea, sighing as the cool mint relieves his throat.]
All you need to understand is that magic is will given form. It's regulated, first and foremost, by desire. By emotion.
[Desire. Emotion. When he had first activated the red moon's gift, he had been trying very hard not to think about the fact that behind his turned back Ramir stood half-naked and apparently eager to...engage in certain activities. A blush fills his cheeks, which he attempts to hide by lifting the teacup to his lips and taking a long sip.
So it must have been because of the surge of emotion. When he had swelled with anger, too, he could feel his fingertips heat and see the sparks of flame.]
When my emotions are strong, that's when it happens. But you're saying that if my desire is to control it, then I should be able to, right?
[Also, I forgot this thread takes place during Sanguis, so picture his cute wolf ears pulled back all contrite.]
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no subject
Hello?
[Shutting the door behind him, he looks about the apartment.]
no subject
[Adra calls Matthias to the central room, where he's sitting, cross-legged, at a big coffee table. There's a book open on the table with several freshly pressed flowers in it; Adra's writing notes near various parts of each flower, noting the colors of the petals, the shape of the leaves, etc.
He sets the quill down as Matthias approaches, patting the plain white couch behind him.]
Take a seat.
[He stands up, smooths down his robes.]
You look like you need tea.
no subject
Tea would be good.
[He tries to sound and look more neutral. He also tries to lose some of the tension from his body as he seats himself on the couch, and probably fails. His shoulders remain rigid, his spine upright, as is his habit.]
Thank you for letting me come over.
no subject
[Adra leaves Mat where he is for the moment as he heads into the kitchen. He returns just a moment later, holding a tray with a teapot, two cups, and a plate of buttery croissants. Did he have all of this actually ready beforehand? Perhaps! Perhaps.
He gently pushes his other books aside, sets the tray down, and then sits on a chair across from Mat.]
Take a sip.
[It's honey mint; sweet and refreshing.]
The most important thing about magic is presence of mind.
no subject
Presence of mind... It is like any other skill, then.
[He blows the steam from the tea and waits a moment before raising the cup to his lips. The liquid tips down his throat soothing and hot. His shoulders finally slope in something more like relaxation.]
It isn't called magic where I'm from. Magic is what people tell stories about. Grisha call what they do the Small Science. I don't know all that much about how it works, because I only needed to understand how to defend myself against it, and how to fight back. But not understanding it is what made Grisha into monsters in my mind. So...I want to understand it better.
no subject
[He rubs his chin at Mat's explanation.]
Small Science, huh ... it's true that there's a theoretical framework behind every school of magic. Formulas, calculations, structure. But the kind of power you've been gifted with doesn't really demand that sort of intense study.
[He sips his own tea, sighing as the cool mint relieves his throat.]
All you need to understand is that magic is will given form. It's regulated, first and foremost, by desire. By emotion.
no subject
So it must have been because of the surge of emotion. When he had swelled with anger, too, he could feel his fingertips heat and see the sparks of flame.]
When my emotions are strong, that's when it happens. But you're saying that if my desire is to control it, then I should be able to, right?
[Also, I forgot this thread takes place during Sanguis, so picture his cute wolf ears pulled back all contrite.]