Raistlin Majere (
magus_majere) wrote in
filthhub2019-07-18 07:43 pm
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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.
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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Someone -- a glazed-eyed boy, nondescript -- pounded on the door to Wade's apartment and then took off, leaving behind a piece of thick parchment with Raistlin's sharp, angular handwriting in fresh ink.
I am ready for our first attempt.
Bring an extra set of clothing.
-R
Well that wasn't ominous, was it? Any of it?
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Only to remember three quarters of the way through the reply, that... Raistlin's phone... was toasted. Oh yeah. Oh well. The message was deleted.
Tannusen however would be getting a dick pic. He didn't want to take his phone out for no goddamn reason, he spent all that time typing with one hand, this would not be wasted.
In any case, eventually, there Wade would be, marching through the woods, hurling rocks at whatever ghosts he could see, and heading right towards the tower. If not stopped otherwise, he'd in fact, just try to walk right in because friends now and he was invited. No mask, no leather suit. Just a shirt, hoodie, jeans and sneakers, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
"I brought presents!"
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All the shrapnel and soot had been swept out, of course. The craters had been... healed? somehow? That wasn't new stonework patched in.
And there was Raistlin, the blackrobe waiting near one of the large stone slab tables in the room, leaning on his staff as usual, hood up.
"And what did you bring?" Yeah, he heard that. May as well go over whatever Wade had brought, first, in case this attempt worked.
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It'd look standard, at first. Black, utilitarian, matched the robes! And then... Well. The little pink nose and pointy little ears betrayed the rest of it. A cat case.
LOOK. Raistlin's a wizard, Wade didn't see no fucking black cats around here, shit's not right. The guy needed a black cat, and if he was going to enchant a phone case, it may as well look like one.
Magic black cat phone case, he's a helper!
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"That certainly is... something." Didn't sound disapproving, though!
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He is, in fact, awfully cheerful for a guy who came here specifically to try and die.
"So yeah, you can magic the hell out of that. Comes with a glass screen cover too for some extra reinforcement."
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High praise from the mage, for sure. He'd finally get around to ordering a new phone, if Wade survived this attempt.
"Are you ready?"
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He's the best friend ever.
"Sssssssooooooo what are we going to try? Gonna let you know now, I already tried explosions." Because of course he did.
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The scientific method indeed.
"Leave your bag by the door and climb up here," and a gesture toward the stone slab table with one golden-skinned hand.
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There's marked hesitation though, as he drops the bag. It's not fear of death, he'd after all eagerly marched right into a forest that screamed 'immediate death' for every possible sense he had. Something else kept him lingering by the door for just a moment, looking over the table carefully.
Eventually, he seemed satisfied, and with a grunt he hefted himself up onto the table.
"Gonna admit, this is my first time being willing professionally killed in a clinical setting. I'm very sensitive, so be gentle."
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Refreshing, truly. Even with Wade's condition.
"Quite. I intend to put you into a deep sleep before I do anything else."
The experiment wouldn't be aided by Wade being conscious, after all. This wasn't something Raistlin needed feedback during!
Having almost burned to death himself, before... no, it was better for everyone involved if Wade was knocked entirely out.
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Trying to catch sight of something.
"... Yeah." And again, whatever he'd been looking for, the wizard apparently passed. "Thanks." A genuine thank you, as if he'd indeed expected to in fact receive a completely different kind of experience here.
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Yeah no that ain't it and we both know it. Plenty of ways to silence someone without knocking them out all safe and sound from pain!
Raistlin dips his fingers into one of the pouches at his waist, and produces a small handful of sand, moving to be closest to the end of the table with Wade's head.
"Goodbye, mayhaps." If this wasn't going to be goodbye, it wouldn't be for a lack of Raistlin's effort, that was for sure. You know who half-asses things? Not this god-killer.
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No, there weren't really any kind of regrets here. He'd heard plenty about what happened if you died here. He'd definitely already set his mind on not taking any offers for coming back.
If this was the end, it was the end, and he'd be happier for it.
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And then...
The world went dark, silent, empty.
Time passed, though Wade would have no concept of it. Heat, hotter than dragon's fire, had actually blackened and cracked the stone table that Wade would wake up on, days later -- a week later. Even the heavy stone of the floor around the table was warped and dark, and the sand from the sleeping spell had formed a halo of smooth glass under Wade's newly-grown head.
The ash around him on the table was a fine grey powder, a skeleton fired well beyond the point of needing to be crushed to lose shape.
A sheet had been draped over Wade up to the chin, and the items from his backpack had been laid out in plain view nearby on another of the stone tables. No sign of Raistlin.
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No pain, no confusion, no sadness or anger. Black nothingness. If he'd been cognizant enough to be aware of it, he might have enjoyed the sensation.
As it was, waking up a week later, he could at least say he felt rested. Perhaps it was for the best Raistlin wasn't in the room. The wizard might not have been terribly offended by the words spat by Wade in absolute, abject frustration and rage at waking up alive, but the tantrum that followed might have at least been off putting. Scraping newly grown fingernails over still raw flesh, his fists striking the table until his knuckles bled.
It would come, and then just as quickly, go, his head buried in his hands for a time. Ignoring his things for the moment in favor of putting his mind back together again before he had an audience.
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Silent.
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It wasn't after all, Raistlin's fault that he'd not died. He'd done far better by him than Francis ever did just by knocking him out, that was for sure.
At length he'd speak, his voice a touch hoarse, lips bone dry.
"Got any painkillers? I got a hell of a headache..."
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Raistlin that isn't nice. But his eyes are locked on Wade's hands, for the moment, as the bleeding knuckles just... stitched themselves right back up again.
"...I never see it in reverse." Remarkable. Things aged, decayed, wore out in front of his eyes. They never mended up.
But then after Wade's hands seemed to have fixed themselves back up, the mage shook himself out of his fascination, and went to one of the stone cabinets set into the wall.
Brushing some soot out of his way, he opened the cabinet and brought down a large pitcher of water. Super stale, surely. But hey. Raistlin approached with the pitcher -- held in two hands, his staff in the crook of his elbow -- and set it down beside Wade. "I imagine you are quite dehydrated, with how little you reconstituted from."
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Ah, that's right. The whole aging and rotting thing. There's a dull, dry laugh from Wade. "Yeah I bet it's a real trip." He'll be fine just... give him a bit.
Stale water was still water, and he took that pitcher and just started chugging it, not batting an eye at the taste. Yes he was thirsty, and also-
"Fuckin' hungry too." Considering how much energy it must have taken to pull himself back together again? There was a good chance he'd come back with a few shed pounds to boot.
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But he didn't keep food in the lab. Something to keep in mind for next time, should Wade survive a second attempt and begin reviving himself.
"There is food upstairs, if you are able."
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No he wasn't the least bit ashamed of only sitting here in a sheet in front of someone, he's been in worse positions.
"Still rocking that Irish tan, gotta wait for the top layer to calm down."
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Everything was being rebuilt. Not a shock, there.
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Again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd been looked at this closely.
"Yeah I'm just as surprised as you are, buddy. How long was I out for?"
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Hey at least Raist was keeping his hands to himself this time, right? Right. Nothing but creepy close up staring from those creepy, weirdly-reflective, hourglass eyes.
But after a few more minutes of this, he un-leaned, going back to his usual slouch against his staff.
"This necessitates more study. I had thought removing all organic matter might work..."
But it hadn't.
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