showyousomethingnice | breakfast of champions (Reo, Haley)

breakfast of champions (Reo, Haley)

[After this.]

Reo spent extra time on his beauty regimen this morning, contouring and concealing and lining his eyes a touch more heavily than usual, because he didn't exactly get much sleep. He spent the night with the brief but life-changing conversation with Ms Dresden echoing in his head; he gave up on homework early on in favor of questions about magic - how it works, how a person uses it, how common it is.

Around midnight, he focused in on her comments about the Laws, went very still for a moment as several connections came together in his mind, and sat down to make a list of names. He made the list several times over before finally splitting it into categories, eventually putting his pen down with a sigh almost an hour later.

He'd attempted sleep after that, but what little he'd gotten had been broken up by dreams that shoved him back into wakefulness. He gave up at around six and got up to shower and dress. Then, with nothing else to do, he went to Kelly's Diner, arriving nearly half an hour early for his meeting with Ms Dresden.

Now he's sipping coffee restlessly, looking his list over and wondering how complete it is. If any of them know. If any any of them have been seen, might be in trouble, might be in danger.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Reo can certainly pick up on a topic closer when he hears one; he wouldn't ask, anyway, not with their relationship as it is. It wouldn't be appropriate.

"If you still find it acceptable," he answers.

She's used to American kids who like to know everything. Having someone who actually cares what's appropriate is pretty much alien to her. Even the fae would probably ask her questions if given an opening like that. So hey, either completely incurious or impeccably polite. Neither one is normal, around here, and it intrigues her a little. "If you don't mind knowing that what you see you won't ever forget. I don't know what the hell's in my head, but I doubt it'll be all that pretty. It might also wake up your actual Sight, if you have any-- that's the ability to see things as they really are, see magic clearly, and see through illusions. It sucks, most of the time."

Reo listens seriously to her warning, breaking his concentration only enough to sign the receipt when the waitress returns with his card. He may not really be able to grasp the enormity of what she's saying, but he can appreciate the importance she's imbuing it with.

"Will my Sight awaken eventually anyway, if I have it?" he asks.

"Yeah. This might just wake it up early, which could be good, could be bad. Could just be a thing, but I doubt it. Magic is really rarely neutral." She gulps down the last of her coffee, then climbs to her feet. "All right, come on, then, kid. Let's get outside and get this over with." She isn't a huge fan of soulgazing, but it is at least an efficient way to get a read on his character-- and for him to get a read on hers, which in its way is just as important if she's going to take him as an actual apprentice for long enough to get him going on his own.

Or longer, if it turns out he's got more power than he's been using.

Reo tucks his wallet away and stands to follow her outside.

He has that sense of calm satisfaction that he associates with a productive practice - yes, all he's really done so far is show up, with all the hard work still to come, but he has a clearer sense of what's going on now, and he knows that his fellow players in Japan will be taken care of.

(He anticipates a few interesting conversations in the near future. Has he exchanged numbers with everyone on that list, or at least everyone he'd care to be in touch with? He doesn't think so. He's making a mental note to tell Sei-chan that it's fine to pass his number on to the remaining Miracles who don't have it when he remembers the issue about phones and sighs. He doesn't know if he'll be powerful enough to start frying phones himself, but he can't imagine that Sei-chan won't. They'll have to start writing letters. How much do stamps cost in America? . . . for that matter, how much do they cost back home?)

So he looks a bit rueful, but not too concerned, when Ms Dresden stops them in the spot she's chosen for the soulgaze.

Basically, she's led him over to her car, because if nothing else, it's parked by the curb, and if he happens to fall over or lose his breakfast, there's grass one way and the gutter another way. He might wind up all right, of course, though even her last apprentice had to sit down pretty quickly after their soulgaze, and Haley isn't expecting Reo to be in her league. Not many people are in Molly Carpenter's league when it comes to potential.

"All right, this won't take very long, but it'll feel like a lot longer," she warns, holding up a hand to stop him, and somewhere between exasperated at his apparent lack of concern over her warnings, and looking forward to seeing him fall on his ass. "Ready?"

And at long last, she meets his eyes for more than a split second. It won't take long, from there.

Behind Haley's eyes is... fire. A lot of fire, actually. Some of it is red and searing and angry-looking, something that could appropriately be called "hellfire". Some of it is blue and flickering and somehow more gentle-looking. Some of it is black and oily, seeping in between the other two and back out again like flame made out of shadow itself. Some of it is green and greedy, coming up from below as if trying to sneak around the other colors.

And some of it is white hot and painful to even look at-- that part's at the very center of the flame, vaguely in the shape of a gawky, lanky, Haley-shaped woman. The shape has a staff, much like the one she'd carried the night before, and she continually swings and twirls it around like a weapon at different hues of flame, as if fending them off, beating them back, or maybe, if Reo can determine the pattern of rising and falling and which fire Haley's soul combats at any given time, trying to keep them all balanced.

It should come to the surprise of no one that, for Haley Dresden, Reo's soul takes the shape of a basketball court.

There's a game going on, a game which never ends played by players who never tire. There are far more than the standard ten players, with no visual markers to tell one team from the others, but neither of these is an obstacle: the game flows with a beautiful grace, all the players in perfect communication, and no one is losing.

The players are all the people who are most important to Reo, with a few of them as clearly identifiable as if he were there making introductions. Mibuchi Megumi, his mother, who gave him his hair and nose and determination; Mibuchi Satoshi, his father, who provided eyes and chin and compassion; his older sister, Mibuchi Seiko, Reo's idol and best friend in the world; Kiyoshi Teppei, the friend whose kindness in middle school was Reo's lifeline when he was surrounded by homophobic teammates; Akashi Seijuurou, who could, if their lives should take the right paths, become Reo's protection against White Court vampires, and whose left eye occasionally flickers from red to gold and back again. The others are no less important for their identities being obscured; if Haley cared to stay, she could learn all their names and stories and reasons why Reo wouldn't be himself without them.

The stands are full too, people who aren't as important to Reo as those on the court but who still leave their marks, good and bad, as they pass through his life. The spectators closest to the court are smiling as they watch the game - casual friends, teammates former and current, relatives Reo has never spent as much time with as either of them would like. Further back are acquaintances, and still further, shadowed by girders and catwalks, are those Reo never wants to see or think about again, but may never be completely rid of.

The court itself - well. It was probably whole and perfect once, reflecting the joy and enthusiasm of the players who run across it. Most of it still is, but where there were once lines of paint on the floor, there are now rotten trenches of corruption, roiling black and surely dangerous to any player who steps on them.

Or they would be, but whenever a player steps on or even crosses one, bright white light flares up, surrounding that player protectively until they've moved safely away.

(Reo may have done damage to himself, but he will not allow it to harm anyone else.)

The ball the players are playing with is the same energy as those flares of light, exuding concentrated power, leaping from floor to hand to basket and keeping the players light and joyous on their feet.

Reo himself is not on the court, or in the stands. Reo is on the sidelines, referee's whistle at the ready, watching the game with fierce protective love in his eyes.

Back in the real world, Reo staggers as the soulgaze breaks off, landing hard on his backside in the grass. He doesn't even notice the fall; he's occupied with touching his cheek, certain he'll find the skin blistered and cracked.

Balance the fire all you like; it still burns.

He stares up at Ms Dresden, wide-eyed and speechless.

On the whole, Haley doesn't care a whole lot about his important people. She notes a couple-- notes the ones he'd already given her the names of, in particular-- but she's more interested in what they're showing her than who they are. That, and the court itself, are what will tell her about the state of Reo's soul, and the strength of his magic. It is the first time she's seen this many people in anyone's soulscape, though, so that in itself is important. Apparently "people" are first and foremost in his mind.

The court itself tells her the rest. Yes, he has been using mind-magic on others. Maybe even outside the game, with or without his conscious knowledge. And yes, it has done him damage. Those lines are part of the lines of his thought pathways, and they run deep. She steps out of the way of one of the players-- over the line there, herself, but carefully doesn't touch it, just in case-- and watches the ball pass to another player. Basketball isn't something she knows a lot about, but this game is moving seamlessly, so his soul is at least still flexible. The protectiveness and love is a good sign, though he might need to learn to let somebody else run things eventually. Still, there's hope, here.

And power, yes. Not on her own level, but enough that she's a little surprised he hasn't fried his phone before now. He'll require some teaching, all right, and it might be possible to heal those trenches of dark magic, or at least make them a little less deep. She can work with this.

So she steps back, blinking back into herself, and after a brief shake of her head to clear it, she can't help but smirk at the sight of him falling on his ass. "Told you it'd be heavy."

Reo blinks for a few long seconds as his brain scrambles to remember first which language he's supposed to be speaking, and then how to speak it.

"Yes," he manages finally. "You did. I, I -" He pauses, searching for sentence structure, his thumb slowly stroking back and forth across the unburned skin of his cheek. "Did - not listen as, as well as I thought I had. I apologize."

The sun isn't positioned to be in his eyes, but he's still squinting up at her as he speaks, as if she's almost too bright to look at.

"It's all right. Nobody's really ready for that sort of thing, anyway, their first time. And I just like having the chance to say 'I told you so' once in a while." She braces herself a little and leans down to offer him her hand. "And now it'll never happen with you and me again. Just in case you were worried."

She's never asked anyone what they saw in her own eyes, and that's not going to change now. She's pretty sure she doesn't really want to know.

Ordinarily, Reo would decline her offer and get up himself; it wouldn't do to make a woman pull a man larger than she is to his feet, after all.

But in this instance, he's honestly not sure he can get up on his own right now, and the last thing he's inclined to associate with Haley Dresden after what he just saw is fragility of any kind.

(He does hesitate for a second before he takes her hand, but that has more to do with something in the back of his brain insisting he'll get burned if he touches her.)

He still makes the effort to raise as much of his own weight as possible, since that's only polite.

"Thank you," he says when he's upright and (mostly) steady. "That's good to know." It hadn't yet occurred to him to wonder about recurring soulgazes, but it would have, so it's nice to have the answer right away. "When - how far into a person's training does that start happening?"

When does he have to start being careful?

She's seen worse hesitations, so he must at least be okay. And not thinking she's going to bite him, or anything. That's something. She might not have as much mass as he has, but she's pretty tall for a woman and surprisingly fit under that duster, and manages to lever him to his feet without too much effort-- especially since he's not making a lot of use of her help. More of those control issues, maybe? Or maybe more of his attempts at being chivalrous. Idiot boys.

"Any time. You've got a bit of power to work with, so now that you know it's there... could be any time, really. The more you use it, the more likely it'll start happening, but you've got at least until your Sight starts coming in for good. Soulgaze is part of that. It's why only wizards can do it, not normal people."

"Thank you. That's - helpful."

Then he shakes his head a little, because he sounds a bit disjointed even to himself.

"I'm sorry. It's, it's all a lot."

By which he means, but can't quite articulate, that he'd thought he'd gotten a handle on the whole thing, but really he hadn't. Who can absorb such a massive life change in less than twenty-four hours? It just hadn't seemed quite real, had seemed so much smaller than it really is, but now the unflinching reality of the soulgaze is forcing it all to start sinking in. He's beginning to see the shape of it now, how much everything is going to change.

"Um. How much is 'a bit'?"

He should call Sei-chan. Now. While he still can.

Haley tries to think of how best to quantify something that's really pretty hard to quantify. "Less than me," she settles for. "Less than my last apprentice. More than the hedge-witches that make up the Paranet. You might be Warden material some day, but it'll take you a while to work up to it, and to learn the right kind of magic. It's not a blasting power-- you're not going to go tossing cars around-- but it's more subtle than that, so it's harder to tell for sure."

She gives his shoulder a clap. "Come on. Why don't I drive you back where you came from, you think on it, and you meet me tomorrow and we try to run you through your paces. I bet you've got a lot to think about."

That gives him a vague idea, sort of. It will make more sense as he learns. Magic must be something like talent: eventually, you figure out how much of it you have. Where your limits are, and how far you can push yourself past them anyway.

Reo suspects that a lot of the things he's learned from playing basketball will be applicable here.

"I do, yes," he says. "Thank you."

He ought to turn her offer down - the dormitory isn't that far away - but he's overwhelmed enough that it seems wiser to accept.

And he has one more question.

He can't bring himself to ask it until they're in her car, and even then he has difficulty choking it out.

(He keeps thinking of that oily black fire.)

"Were you able to see what - what kind of magic I've been . . . ?"

He can't finish the sentence. He hopes she'll understand.

She gets it. It's an important thing to know, after all. "Oh, it's black magic all right," Haley answers, straight-forward even if she's sympathetic, starting the poor Blue Beetle up on the second attempt. It coughs a few times before it settles into running properly. "The kind that hurts you in ways you don't necessarily feel, and makes you want to do more. It's dug in there. It'll be hard to fix the damage, but I think you can do it. You want to, and you understand the problem, now. That's the important part."

She looks over at him before putting the car in gear, expression serious and determined. "And I'll help. That's what I'm here for."

The answer doesn't come as a surprise; he's had a sinking feeling from the start, unable to dismiss the fact that whatever he's been doing to enhance his fouling skills was only affecting the referees, and the way not being able to jump shocks his opponents every time, like they don't understand how their bodies can betray them so completely, and the similarity of the former to what Hanamiya and Kirisaki Daiichi did. And he never did get the hang of lying to himself, no matter how desperately he wants to.

So it doesn't come as a surprise, but it hits hard, even harder than it would have before the soulgaze, and he leans his head back against the headrest and closes his eyes.

"Thank you," he says, quietly, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Then, after a moment: "I - don't think I'll be going to classes today. The dormitories aren't far from here."

"No problem," is Haley's answer. "I had some friends who went there for a while. They're all graduated now, but I think I remember the way." Which is her way of saying he doesn't have to point her around, he can just digest in silence if he needs to.

And unless he breaks said silence, that's exactly what she does. She does, in fact, remember the way to the dorms, after all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

breakfast of champions (Reo, Haley)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject