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"Massster..." this came from a disembodied head floating in front of Raistlin's desk. The archmagus didn't look up immediately, busy scratching writing onto a piece of flattened parchment, the quill in his thin golden fingers practically vibrating with the speed of his notes.

Genessia was a land of fascinating marvels. He'd be sure not to forget a single one.

"Masssster pleasssse," the head tried a second time.

Finally, Raistlin glanced up, impatient at the interruption. "What?"

"Therrrre is an intruderrr in the Grrove."

That. That was interesting, and Raistlin's hand finally stilled. "In the Grove, you say?"

"Yesssss. The defenderrrssss have not been able to kill it..."

Extremely interesting. Something from Genessia, no doubt, nothing else would make sense. The blackrobe dabbed the last of the ink off the feather quill onto a pad and set the instrument aside, and then took the time to carefully close up the inkwell. This could take a while.

And so it was that whatever this stranger was doing, he suddenly wasn't the only living creature in the dark, ancient grove. Raistlin lurked in the deepest shadows, silently watching.

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Raistlin also picked around the shrapnel, although he stepped over the line his barrier had made in favor of examining the blast pattern.

"I can see the advantage, particularly against multiple targets."

Of course Raistlin could AoE with the best bombs but that was magic. Not everyone had magic, the poor bastards.

"These smaller pieces in particular would find the gaps in armor or pierce through chainmail, I should think. The eye slits of helmets..."

No, not everyone had magic. Not everyone even had mutant abilities here, and Wade certainly didn't have any that allowed for fireball hucking or lightning hurling, so he had to buy his AoE shit.

"This can shred bullet proof armor, trust me, chainmail may as well be wet tissue paper. You can get little bits just lost in you too, you're just fucked if you don't have a medic around and you get clipped by this. If the explosion and shrapnel doesn't off you right there, you get to look forward to gangrene. But hey, one guy I knew had to get his leg chopped off, and he turned it into a lamp so uh... Not all shitty, right?"

"He turned his leg into a lamp?"

Ew.

"I would consider that a greater loss than the removal of the leg."

"Yeah he put it in alcohol and put a bulb on the top. Looks sweet, I thought about doing that but Vanessa uh she... Wasn't a fan of the idea. I still think it's a great idea, I think I can win her over if I work the pitch better. I want a leg lamp."

"This Vanessa sounds like the voice of reason."

What the fuck, Wade.

"It's really coooool! I was going to put it in the living room! Not the bedroom, I'm not that weird. It's just a leg, we all have legs!

Except my friend. Well not attached to him anyway."

"Horrifying."

Raistlin you have a basement full of horrors.

(But he hadn't made them that way on purpose.)

"You have a big dead dragon face in your office, you have no room to argue."

"It has no flesh."

Because that's the kicker. Look, look--

"Flesh rots. Even in preserving fluids, where it expands and swells instead and then still, eventually, rots. At least bone has the decency to merely crumble away."

"Yyyyyyeeeeaaaaah eventually, but all my friends will be dead before that happens, so like I could just throw it in my super amazing future space garbage furnace or whatever the hell we'll have in the year 3000." Look, Raist. Wade doesn't know about your fast forward vision.

"... Sounds like you really got a super good grasp about what rotting meat does though."

"I was cursed to see time as it effects all things," thus his befuddlement over Wade not aging, when he pulled off his mask. The mask had certainly been weathering time poorly in his sight, but not the man beneath it.

"All that I observe is a crumbling ruin, from the trees to this very building. An eternal winter. People, even the long-lived elves... even my own reflection."

It's a zombie horror-show, behind his eyes. Is it any wonder he desperately seeks immortality?

Oh. Ooooh.

OOooh. Now that finally got Wade to react, the sound of air being sucked in through clenched teeth. Physical problems are one thing. But that does, in fact, sound like absolute screaming Hell right there.

"Oh yeah that.... Woof... Alright no, I got nothing for that, that just straight up blows. Shit dude, I'm fuckin' sorry."

"Indeed," Raistlin bent for a moment to pick up a piece of shrapnel, now that it had cooled off somewhat.

"Power like mine does not come without cost. I have accepted it as such."

His eyes, his health...

Edited 2019-07-22 05:09 (UTC)

"I mean..." It wasn't what Wade would do. Well... It wasn't what he would have done now, if he'd known what his choice would do. ... Technically, he'd still made the same exact choice, but with the benefit of hindsight it... sucked.

"... If you know it's worth it, man." No he's not going to stand here and tell someone their personal life choices seemed sketchy, look at him.

"No cost too great, right?"

"Power, where before I had none," isn't that how he'd described magic in their last meeting? "That is more than worth it to me."

Powerlessness was something he'd sooner die than feel again!

And it wasn't like he could blame the guy. It made sense.

"Yeah. Yeah that's... that checks out. I mean shit I... Can't really argue with that."

"Yes, well," Raistlin wandered back over with the shrapnel in his hand, idly flipping the sharp bit of metal over and between his fingers. He really wasn't thinking about it, it was just something to do with the hand not holding onto his staff. The shrapnel danced, spinning and flipping, vanishing and reappearing.

"You also brought books, correct? I feel those will be useful if I am to find a way to slay you for good."

Thank god, a subject change. He goes to gather up the boxes he brought the explosives in, carefully wrapping and putting away the remainder of the C4.

"Yeah, a couple. There's more about the genetics shit, it's a pretty heavy subject. If you want more books, you can just shoot me a text and I'll pick one up for you." A pause, and he went to dig out his phone.

"A text on this thing." Do you know how to phone, Raistlin?

"Ah, that thing." Oh that's promisingly flat, right there, even as a whisper.

Shrapnel tossed away, Raistlin produces his phone from a pouch on his spell components belt. It doesn't power on.

"I seem to murder these strange devices more often than not."

Could be the fire. Could be how much he falls against things. Could be the LIGHTNING.

"Ooookay, we're gonna need to find a way to keep that from happening." How are we supposed to plan scientific murder sessions if your phone doesn't work, Raistlin?

"I don't send shit by carrier pigeon, the last time I wanted to get cute like that it got sucked into a turbine. Remember that C4 putty? Yeah just put that next to a bunch of spinning blades and a combustion engine." Rest in fucking pieces, plane.

"Still one of my more imaginative hits though, even if it was kind of not on purpose.... But no really, I have to be able to send you messages, man."

"And how would you suggest I protect it, if I am to keep it on my person?"

After all it also wouldn't do them any good if Raistlin just left it locked in a drawer somewhere.

"Well people usually put their phone in a phone case. If you can magic a barrier around you and magic a charm on me, couldn't you magic some protection on the phone?"

"I suppose it may be possible." Maybe. Hmm. The problem was in how many things it needed protection from. Heat, water, electricity, gods knew what else would harm it. Raistlin taking one good fall and landing on that side might do it.

Enchanting the phone itself would be a nightmare, but perhaps he could work something into a small satchel.

...Don't mind Raistlin, visibly doing some complex math in his head here.

"I mean you do kind of seem like a guy who could magic anything to do anything." So it seems like a pretty foregone conclusion to Wade!

"I can get you a case."

"What does this case protect against?"

Was it some huge bulky wooden chest of a thing, or?