holland vosijk (voxt) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-07-16 22:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, holland vosijk, marina andrieski |
WHO: Holland Vosijk & Marina Andrieski
WHAT: Random run-in by the river
WHEN: Today, late afternoon
WHERE: Next to the river
WARNINGS: I don't.... think there are any?
Marina had been avoiding things. She’d carefully veiled her feelings behind a curtain of sarcasm and the guise of not caring for other people. Now she had committed herself to teaching again. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it, how to know what to do with the knowledge of it. She refused to admit to sentimentality, hated the idea of it. Still, she felt the losses that she’d suffered despite the time that passed. She had been strong - stronger than most of the hedges she knew - but none of that had saved those under her care and protection. None of their strength saved them. Not even those from Brakebills with all their Brakebills knowledge had managed. Fogg hid himself away like a hermit. Marina and Josh had led careful lives, but bringing Julia and the other Josh into their timeline had had complications and he was dead. Then the rabbit girl - Alice? - had died. Then the Beast himself.
There wasn’t much left for her, so of course she’d jumped at the first chance to get away from her timeline, into one where she was dead, so coming back wouldn’t matter. There wouldn’t be another version of herself to cause conflict with. Now she was Marina!40 even if she knew she wasn’t. She didn’t know what she was going to get into now that she was in a future timeline. The minute she’d stepped through the door, she’d been in Texas.
Texas was hot, humid, and generally annoying. She’d been playing the part of the girl she imagined she was in the 40th timeline, but it felt false. At least it seemed that way to her. Most people didn’t argue with her bitchy exterior. So she continued. The shift in work was nice at least. It made her somewhat happy even if she wasn’t sure if she actually knew what real happiness felt like. Just the general satisfaction of being powerful and having all of her memories.
The memories were another thing entirely. She had her Brakebills memories, all the magic that she learned there mixed in with everything else. It should have made her feel different, but it didn’t. It was just a reminder of things that weren’t and things that couldn’t be changed. But could she have even stopped the Beast with those memories? No. Likely not. Everyone would still be dead. And that was the danger of helping others. Helping others meant losing things, meant being aware of the loss.
She needed a drink.
Instead she went to New York and got a ridiculously expensive drink from her favorite coffee shop. Marina looked like a black coffee, soul eating sort of girl, but she generally tended toward high sugar, high caffeine drinks and she usually got tea more than she did coffee. Today’s coffee was actually more of an iced caramel frappe, but in the heat of Texas (and even NYC) it felt nice. It was both a caffeine boost and satisfied her sugar craving.
Portaling back to Tumbleweed after spending time away felt somehow more depressing than usual, but she stopped in a secluded spot near the river. She wasn’t really a ‘revel in nature’ sort of person, but she’d gotten to know the places to go and not go. And she was careful to always portal somewhere that had some cover to keep her from being discovered. Once she was sure (as sure as she could be anyway) that no one around had noticed her and that the portal was closed, she stepped out from her spot and looked around. Could she have gone straight home? Yes, but she still didn’t want to go back and deal with anyone else, so she planned to stay somewhere no one would look for her: by the river.
--
Holland was not avoiding things, not anymore, now that Kell was talking to him. Well, he was still avoiding Kell’s brother, but it was easy enough to do that since they rarely seemed to cross paths. But even when he wasn’t avoiding things, he still enjoyed going back to the river. There was a bench here that had been his bed for the first few weeks - more like a month - that he had been here, before he’d made an agreement with Charlotte for a room in her house. It was still one of his favorite places, because it reminded him that he was free.
He was just sitting on the bench and looking at the river when he felt, rather than saw, the flare of magic close by. He didn’t move, except to inhale deeply to get the scent of it. Not a new scent, exactly, but one that he’d caught around the town before, in different locations, from different people. As a result, he couldn’t immediately place precisely who it was.
But the scent lingered at a lower level, which meant the person was still nearby, even if they weren’t using their magic. He was fairly certain they were in earshot. Without turning around from where he sat on the bench, he said mildly, “Hello.”
--
Marina stilled for a moment, carefully aware of the fact that someone was aware of her existence. She considered that she might have made some noise coming out and she wondered, idly, if this was someone she should know or one of the various people from town which seemed particularly unobservant. Once she spotted the man on the bench, she slowly arched an eyebrow.
“Hello.” The word was said with a hint of boredom, a way to mask her surprise and the slight interest in the person who’d spoken to her. She stepped forward, then, not bothering to hide who she was. Despite the heat of Tumbleweed, she’d clung to her black leggings, going for a textured, blue top instead of an all black ensemble. She’d given up on the leather accessories for today, but kept the winged eyeliner and red lipstick. Her hedge witch tattoos went up her right arm. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
--
“There usually isn’t,” Holland answered evenly. He still had not turned to look at her, but his awareness was trained on her. “That’s why I come here.”
He wasn’t particularly opposed to her presence, though. Especially if she was looking for solitude, as he was. Despite the bench, this was not a highly populated area of the river; not a particularly pretty part, tucked away from major pathways. Even the Crash Day crowds had not reached it.
He turned his head, then, his one green eye fixed on her, his all-black eye as well, though it was impossible to tell with that one. “I’m sure no one else noticed, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
--
Marina tilted her head to the side then. She didn’t really bother herself often with other people or what they wanted. She was a fairly solitary creature when she wasn’t dealing with her hedges. Apparently the only one that existed here was from another timeline and was...well, far more interested in benefiting others than she was. It was exhausting trying to keep up. She looked out at the river for a moment, decidedly not moving.
Once he turned to look at her, she looked back, the hint of movement enough to catch her attention. She studied his face for a moment, briefly distracted by his eyes. She wasn’t sure if they’d ever run into each other, but then she hadn’t branched out too much since her arrival. She felt the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Me walking out of some bushes?” At that she did move closer, taking a seat on the bench without asking if she could. It was a public bench and it was far easier to just take something. She hadn’t noticed anything preventing her from it. “Or do you mean something else?”
--
Holland had not told her one way or the other whether he wanted or was opposed to her staying. He was not exactly comfortable with having her on the bench with him, but wasn’t particularly concerned about it either. That depended on what she did and said next.
“Your magic,” he said, simply. “Whatever it looked like.” He hadn’t needed to see it to notice it. But he was already aware that having a sense for magic -- being able to smell it and feel it when it was present -- was not something that every magician here shared.
--
Marina wasn’t really likely to do anything for Holland to be concerned by. She sipped casually at her drink as she considered what he’d said, though. He hadn’t seen what she’d done, but he’d noticed the magic. That was new. She knew the portals didn’t make a noise, could be so seamless that no one might really know. Anything could become a portal, even a door could be opened with a key and become a portal. She’d done that to get out of her timeline and into another. Well, technically Julia’s Josh had opened it. She’d just dashed through before anyone could stop her.
“That’s an interesting trick,” she said after a moment. “It was a portal.” She didn’t explain her need to escape Texas or anything else. No one was making friends, just casual conversation. Though, not even New York had been the same as walking through Tumbleweed recently. “Are you a magician or just someone with an affinity for telling when magic is being used?”
--
“It’s not a trick,” Holland said, vaguely amused. But she had hit upon the reason in her question, so he answered, “It’s both of those things. The two usually go hand in hand, in my experience, although I suppose it might vary in ability from person to person.”
Holland had not precisely tested that theory. He had only ever had his own magic to work with, and no one in his world ever wanted to share information without a price. Because he was an Antari and therefore a head and shoulders above everyone else in his world by power alone, everyone had always wanted something from him that he had never been willing to give.
“It’s more interesting to me that the two are separate for you. You have enough power to make portals, but you can’t sense my magic at all? I’m not hiding it.”
That wasn’t precisely true; he always kept his magic partially covered. It was an instinct now, born from years of being tracked down by the smell of his magic alone, by people who wanted to cut him open and take it for themselves. But here, he had the opposite problem: people wanted to avoid him. So he always kept a small amount of his magic detectable, certainly enough for Kell to notice, probably enough for Alucard. Rhy was debatable, since his affinity for magic was limited, but there was nothing Holland could really do about that.
--
Marina was curious about that. She had no ability to innately sense magic. As far as she knew, there were spells to detect magic, but nothing that said they could sense it. If there was, more people would likely be discovered. The gods, she knew, had such powers, but they were gods. “I knew a man once that could sense magic,” she said after a moment. “He killed a god to get that power and killed anyone else that had it.” She shrugged. “But you don’t have six fingers on each hand, so I figure that you’re just a different sort.”
Marina hid her thoughts more so than her magic. Mental wards up, built up to prevent psychics from seeing into her mind or anyone else that felt like wandering in there. “We can do spells to detect magic and I’ve felt powerful magic when I’ve done it, but…” A slight shrug. “I guess it doesn’t translate the same based on universes and I have no desire to track down a god and steal their magic.”
--
Holland raised his hands to show them to her: five pale, slim fingers on each one. He had long enough sleeves that covered the scars on the inside of his forearms.
“I’m an Antari,” he answered. “That’s the name for the most powerful type of magician in the worlds I come from. But anyone with any affinity for magic, from my world, can sense magic. It’s very literally… a sense, a scent, a feeling of its presence. Though magicians can also learn to hide their magic when needed.”
The corner of his lip twitched up. “However, I do intend to track down a piece of living magic that thinks of itself as a god, and steal its magic… in a manner of speaking. Not to increase my power, but in order to stop it destroying the world.”
--
Different types. She wondered if it was like being a Brakebills student versus being a Hedge Witch. Though, she had no reason to believe she’d been any less strong than any ridiculous Brakebills student. She had the tattoos to prove it, ending at her shoulder on her right side. 250 in a circle in the middle of a star.
“We are given magic by the gods. Killing one gets it taken away.” She shrugged slightly. “I’m a Hedge Witch. Magicians are what they call those that attended Brakebills.” She had made it to three months before graduation and they kicked her out. She had done things she wasn’t meant to, but she hadn’t thought it bad enough to have her memories taken from her. But considering all the timelines, maybe it was necessary in a way. It still made her no less likely to forgive Fogg. “And most of what we do is ward our minds to keep psychics out. It is also polite not to project your thoughts where they might hear it. But if one is annoying enough…” Well, being polite went out the window.
“Is that at home?” Because if there was something here that was the same, Marina wanted to know because that seemed like something people would prefer to take care of.
--
“By the gods,” Holland repeated. “Well, there are some at home that would agree with you that magic is divinely granted, but our knowledge of ... gods is significantly less literal.” It was strange to think about that so literally. The conversation had, somehow, taken a very interesting turn. “I hadn’t met a psychic, either, until I came here.”
And he hadn’t been particularly impressed with the psychics that they’d used to hold him in place when he’d first arrived. They were very strong by most standards, sure, but Holland was sure that Osaron could have overpowered them in an instant if he had actually been in possession of Holland’s body and mind. Thankfully, he hadn’t.
“Yes,” he agreed. “At home. Not here, so long as the portal doesn’t play any terrible tricks on us.”
--
Marina gestured with her hands coupled with a shrug. What was she going to do about it? It was what it was. “We’re very literal about gods back home. And they’re a very literal pain in the ass.” To be fair, she only felt that way since she discovered that she’d been killed by one in Julia’s timeline. It hadn’t been fair. It had been particularly unfair, but that was the price she paid for helping people. That time she’d paid the price personally. In her own timeline she paid the price with everyone she knew. “I’ve known a few. They’re mostly a pain. Creepy Rom-Com Guy was definitely a pain.” She made a face at that.
They’d never done anything, but people had reached into her mind and taken things from her. They were the only ones that she hoped suffered at the hands of The Beast. She was sad she’d missed it if they did.
“The portal is apparently known for poor decisions.” Another shrug. “But I haven’t heard of it throwing anything at the displaced that can’t be beaten someway.” Unless Julia was keeping something from her. “Then again, if yours can be defeated, who knows.”
--
“I can imagine,” Holland said wryly. “I wouldn’t want to meet a god.” Magic with its own mind and aspirations of being a god was quite enough for him. He tilted his head, curiously. “Creepy Rom-Com Guy is the name of a god?”
It was hard to imagine a god going by that name. Though perhaps it was only what she’d chosen to call him. If so, it seemed purposefully disrespectful, and Holland could not help but approve of that.
He looked out at the water. “He can be defeated, but at great cost.” The cost of Holland’s magic and his life. It helped to know that it would also, in turn, save the magic in his world, though if he hadn’t come here, he wouldn’t have known that. It was difficult to know that he was going to die thinking that he had failed at it. Unless somehow he kept his memories from here, but that didn’t seem like something he could count on. He didn’t particularly feel like elaborating on that in front of someone he had just met, even though he was finding her surprisingly easy to talk to -- maybe because she was so easy to talk to. He had always been betrayed by the people he trusted most. “And likely not before more destruction and lives lost. So I sincerely hope the portal doesn’t inflict him upon this world.”
--
“No. He’s a psychic. I think his name is something like Dime? Nickle? It’s a coin.” She waved it off. His name didn’t really matter. If it did, she’d text Julia and ask her what it was again. Or it’d come to her. She wasn’t sure. “I didn’t even know he was still alive, but then I didn’t know to look for him. He was Brakebills, I was a hedge witch. The two don’t really mix.” She shrugged. “He wanted to act like we were in a romantic comedy and kiss a girl suddenly without any sort of introduction or permissions.”
That seemed to be the nature of things. All things had a cost. She sipped at her drink some more, frowning a little. She remembered the day they fought and the days after. She remembered how few were left in the end. She didn’t push for more information because she didn’t want to share that much information anyway. Especially not when it might require her to visit topics that she was decidedly avoiding. “Then I doubt you’ll have to worry about it. I’ve heard about some of the things that came through. Nothing that came at great cost. Except apparently on the cruise ship, but I wasn’t there for that.”
--
“I see,” Holland responded. That did make much more sense. “Not worth remembering his name, then.”
He was not fond of people who messed with others’ heads. Admittedly, the majority of his experience with such spells had been his own hands creating and using them, though he had been doing it at the order of the Danes, and those were orders he literally, physically had been unable to refuse to cooperate with.
He considered that alongside what he knew of the portal. “I hope you’re right. But I’m not counting on it.”
--
“I remember his face. His name is easy enough to gain from the other people here. Since they were friends.” She wasn’t his friend, though, so his name didn’t really matter to her. Julia was particular about their actual names being used, but since he wasn’t here, she didn’t worry about it. She’d be reminded eventually.
Marina wasn’t a girl that had a clean slate, but as far as she was aware, everyone’s heads had been left alone on her watch. She had done quite a lot of things and all of them had been her choice. She didn’t do regrets. At least not about those things. Nothing had been strictly fatal.
“Prepare for the worst,” she agreed. “Probably some Magicians around willing to help you with that if you ask. I’m surrounded by bleeding hearts.”
--
The psychic’s name didn’t really matter to Holland either, nor did he particularly feel that he had to continue the conversation, so he didn’t press the matter any further. He glanced over at her. “No. That would only put more people in the way.”
He paused, then asked, “Do you have a particular interest in knowing what threats may lie beyond the portal, or are you just making conversation?”
--
“The people I know seem concerned about it. If it’s going to affect me, I guess I’m concerned. Otherwise…” She shrugged slightly. “I guess it’s just conversation.”
She leaned back, considering something for a moment. “I should probably get back to my place. But if you ever get bored, we’re doing magic classes. Teaching people our magic. Julia’s getting all good feelings about sharing magic information, I guess.”
--
“It will either be contained or it will destroy everyone,” Holland said, with a bland smile. “I doubt anything you do will make the difference between one or the other. No offense intended.”
He would have given more detail if she’d asked for it. But he wasn’t really surprised by the answer. He considered the offer for a moment. “It’s amazing how many people just want to share magic here,” he said, and then, “I can’t teach you mine. You either have it or you don’t.”
--
“I’ve done the whole try to help save the world thing. No interest in saving it again.” It touched on things that she’d been thinking about, but then she’d been thinking about it since before she got here. She’d talked about it carelessly as if it didn’t touch her. It was easy to be the girl everyone remembered and that girl wasn’t entirely an act.
She sipped quietly for a moment. “I think the idea is if you share magical knowledge, you get it back. I’m not really sure it’ll work that way, but I’d rather make sure they’re going to learn it right if they’re going to learn it. What’s the point in having to learn something twice?” There was a brief pause. “I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve never needed anyone’s magic but my own. It’s gotten me this far.” Letting out a breath, she started the hand movements of a spell, willing the small stormcloud into life and carefully controlling it for a moment, electricity crackling around her fingers. Another set of hand movements and it disappeared again. “Flashy parlor trick, but it was an easy enough display. Our magic is mostly intent and will with some hand movements.”
She stood slowly. “We meet Tuesdays and Thursdays at this abandoned warehouse.” She pulled out a pen and a spare napkin from the coffee shop, writing down the address and the time. “Who knows? You could be less boring than the rest of the magical infants I’ve got on my hands.”
--
Holland was tempted to say something about how she was lucky she had survived trying to save the world, but he didn’t. He had come closer to sharing more about his future with her than he had with anyone else; she was dangerously easy to talk to. It was better to keep the personal details to a minimum.
Which meant he had to say no to her offer, even though academically it might be interesting, though he did doubt how much he would actually get from it. He moved one hand in the direction of the river, and curled his fingers and a large section of the river stopped moving, holding still and clear. The hand gesture was more to draw her attention to what he was doing than it was actually involved in the spell itself; it was only his intention and will that was truly needed. He could feel the will of the water that wanted to move as it should, and it was able to fight him harder than it normally would have -- the elements were not leaping to do his bidding here as they had been at home, but his will was strong, and he did not give them a choice. After a few moments of easily holding it, he straightened his fingers and released the river to flow again. He lowered his hand and didn’t make any other movement, but a large crack in the earth started forming, starting at the riverbank and quickly making its way up to his feet, making noise as earth shifted and rocks broke. He blinked, and the crack started to close again, with a grinding sound. In a few seconds it was as if it had never been there.
“Thank you,” he said politely, after he was done, “But no. I don’t need any new flashy tricks. Like you said - my magic has gotten me this far.”
--
Marina had seen quite a lot of magic in her life. She hadn’t seen nearly as much of it here outside of her own, but she knew that magic had been done to test her wards. She just hadn’t cared to spend time watching it or spend much time with the people outside of, well, Julia. There was plenty magic to discover and in time she was sure that she’d witness more of it as she forced herself to move outside of her regular circles. This was certainly new to her, however. Even the Harry Potter magic didn’t seem quite so fantastic and surprising having known about it previously.
While others might have jumped back as the Earth started to split, Marina stepped casually back with a brief arch of the eyebrow. She didn’t compliment him, though there was one on the tip of her tongue. She had a feeling she was right about his being less boring than most of the people they were teaching, but asking to see more again was admitting an interest in someone not herself and she was honestly exhausted. Then again, it might have come off as curiosity about the magic itself and not the person. That she could easily sway. Still, she didn’t.
“I guess I can respect that.” She took another sip of her coffee before turning and starting to walk away. Throwing the cup into the nearest trash can, she opened a portal back into her home. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” she said before stepping through the portal and ending up in her house, only partly aware that she didn’t know his name. It probably didn’t matter, though. Finding people was easy if she decided she wanted to.
--
Holland didn’t turn around to watch her go, but he felt the flare of magic that came with whatever spell she used to disappear again. Then she was gone as immediately as she had appeared. It occurred to him, belatedly, that he hadn’t asked her name -- nearly told her some very personal details, but not bothered with something as simple as a name. Probably for the best, because of how easily he’d nearly told her his story.
He got up from the bench, walked to the closest building, and found the mark he’d already left in a hidden corner. He cut a fingertip, traced his blood over the mark, and murmured, “As Tascen.”
Then the world bent around him, and he, too, was gone.