Scene #1973:

Owner	Pose
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga can hope that Beatrice is better with finding her way places than Inga is, for Inga doesn't give the best directions. It is all based on landmarks and distance measured in a rough approximation of 'fathoms'. When she /does/ arrive however, there will be tea and fresh baked goodies waiting! Inga is currently setting up the table in case Beatrice would like a snack before being shown a little of Inga's magic, which they'll likely need to do in the basement. Don't want any blood stains on the furniture!
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice is using a MogPad to navigate. Once she downloaded the correct maps from the closest local server (aaah, gotta love Mognet/Internet integration), Inga's directions were easy enough to program into Moogle Maps! So it's not long until she arrives at the door of the apartment, MogPad in one hand. Knock knock! Or possible ding-dong whichever
Harry Dresden	There's an awful sensation from the door, something that even Beat can feel. This place is a fortress, a bunker, really, despite the promises within. Someone is unlocking a crapton of locks before the door cracks open, and a massive dude in a ugly sweatshirt opens it up, peering down. "Oh, hey kiddo. You must be Miss Marshal. Come on in."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga hears the knock and moves to the door. "Well, suppose she didn't get lost. Excellent," she says, with maybe a touch of jealousy. Inga is the type to get lost easily, especially in a city like this where she can't usually even read the street signs. The door is opened, and from behind the giant that opens the door, a woman small of stature appears, likely much shorter than people expect, though she holds herself with a certain air of authority. She's dressed today in a long black dress with an a-line skirt to the ankles, with slightly puffed sleeves at the shoulders, tapering down to fit snug around her wrists. To Inga, this is quite a modern dress. To most people, it's terribly old fashioned. Opening the door releases the small of honey cake and tea. "Beatrice, do come in," she says with a soft smile, motioning her inside. She gives her a look over, shaking her head slightly. "Blue certainly is a popular haircolor in the multiverse," she observes. Inga glances toward Harry's ugly sweatshirt and shakes her head a bit. Sigh. He's hopeless.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice starts in alarm as a giant of a man opens the door instead of... well. Actually she's not sure who she was expecting. But this is still a surprise! In truth, it's mostly because her Physical Scan couldn't penetrate the apartment at all. She's really not used to such heavily-warded places. Beatrice gives Harry a somewhat uneasy smile. She wasn't expecting him to even be here. She's... obviously very shy. Kinda a nerdy type. Inga is given another, slightly easier smile - which freezes in place when Inga mentions her hair. "Wh-what's wrong with my hair..?" she asks, self-consciously, tugging one bang in front of her eyes to check it. "Blue is my... natural colour..."
Harry Dresden	"Nah, it's fine, don't worry. Inga's old fashioned and That's Okay." A wink down at his partner, and Harry shuffles in a bit, carefully scooting chairs around to get at the rug covering up the trapdoor to the basement. "Blue is a pefectly fine color, anyways." The door is popped open, and the Wizard looks over at Inga. "We doing this downstairs? I need to know for Reasons." No need to get Bob in on this mess.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga ushers Beatrice inside and over to a chair at the table. "Nothing is wrong with it! It's lovely. I am simply unused to the myriad of hair colors that are natural in the multiverse. Where I am from, mine was uncommon--though only because of my age I suppose," she commets with a small shrug. Inga looks to Harry, nodding. "Yes, but let the girl have a bite to eat first. We must not neglect our hospitality," she replies, taking a seat at the table herself, pouring a bit of tea. "Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you in person Beatrice. This is Harry Dresden. He is a mage as well," she explains. She'll let Harry shuffle off to make sure Bob behaves himself by keeping quiet.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice is ushered inside! She seems a bit flustered for a few moments, before she steels herself and takes a seat. Back straight, head held high-but-not-too-high. She lifts her tea cup like a Proper Lady, pinkie extended and everything. The only thing out of place is the tablet computer that's still in her hand, really."Ah... pleased to... finally meet you in person, Miss Inga, Mister Dresden." Pause. Paauuse. "...I was expecting you to be taller."
Harry Dresden	Harry's grin is wide at Beatrice. "Inga's is pocketsized for convienence." An eyebrow waggle as he reaches over the top of the viking lady for a piece of cake, and then tromps down into the basement. The sound of moving furniture can be heard.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga observes Beatrice a little while she drinks her tea, hiding a small smile with her tea cup. That smile sours slightly at the comment about her height, but Inga quickly recovers with a sidelong glance and a laugh. "Yes, I get that often," she grumbles, then looks to Harry, glowering. "Well perhaps if you weren't such a giant I wouldn't seem so small," she huffs. Clearly, it is all his fault! Inga shakes her head, smile returning. "I am glad you could come, I know this is not what you were likely expecting. I'll have a cottage sometimes in the near future with lots of outside space...here, we generally do our work in the basement. Harry has it well set up for magical workings. I hope you will not mind," she says.
Beatrice Marshal	"...That was insensitive of me, wasn't it?" She winces a little bit. "I'm... sorry. I, uh. I'm not terribly good at... socializing in person, you know? I mean, outside my classmates, but I spend most of my time in my room, really, so, uh..." There's a pause. "Really one of the reasons I wanted to come see you is to try to get better at the whole social thing. You seem nice, so..." Tea-sip. "The basement is fine. Unless, you know, it's awful down there but I'm kinda assuming it's not."
Harry Dresden	Furniture moving. Harry's yelling a little. "Then you don't want me to practice on, I'm a damn hermit!"
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga laughs lightly, reaching over to place a hand on Beatrice's arm lightly. "Ah, you've merely pointed out the obvious. I limp too, you'll notice. Don't trouble yourself over it," she says, slicing a bit of cake and passing it over. "I can understand feeling a bit awkward in social situations, I used to as well. Sometimes, still do. I have some...ah...quirks that can indeed be...inconvenient," she says. Harry's shout draws a small sigh. "Oh he's not all that bad," she grumbles. "No no, the basement is perfectly nice, you'll see. Finish your cake and I'll show you some things," she comments, standing. She reaches for her staff, leaning against the wall nearby. A wooden walking stick, but carved all over with various runes, wrapped with leather at the top with a few black feathers and beads strung. Inga moves to the entrance to the basement, and indeed she does have a pronounced limp to her gait. "All set dear?" she asks Harry.
Beatrice Marshal	Oooo, cake. The promise of sweet baked goods causes Beatrice to not even flinch when Inga places her hand on her arm! Instead... Cake. Nom nom nom. Beatrice does take note of that staff, though. Those runes carved into it, especially. Hmmm.
Harry Dresden	Harry's head pops up. "I got the circle all cleared out and the tables moved to the walls, so yeah." He smiles, and holds up his hands to Inga, getting her 'seat' to the basement ready to go.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga leans forward into Harry's arms without a thought, the procedure obviously one they've undertaken many times. Stairs are terrible, so she generally accepts his assistance in being carried. A quick kiss of appreciation is pressed to a scruffy cheek. Once down, taps her chin thoughtfully, looking to Beatrice. "You'll be wanting to see my blood magic I imagine? There are some things I could not show you here--lighting and what not...but I can show you the blood," she says. She tries to do so in a non ominous way... Inga reaches to her belt, where is kept a small knife in a leather sheath. She draws it and without hesitation, flicks the blade up her forarm. Blood wells quickly against her pale skin. "Don't be alarmed, I heal quickly," she assures Beatrice. The blood that begins to drip does not fall to the floor, instead, flicks her knife, using it as a focus to direct the crimson fluid. She flicks it outward and the blood puffs into a fine mist that surrounds Beatrice in a sort of bubble that shimmers a subtle red. "This is one I use very often. It serves as a barrier, absorbing some of the damage one might take in battle. It also serves to provide a small amount of healing while it lasts," she explains. Bea should feel invigorated, any little wounds or injuries improving quickly. As for the open wound on Inga's arm, it is already beginning to heal.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice heads down the stairs after the couple, looking away a bit. She's a little uncomfortable around obvious displays of affection like that. Only a little, though. As they reach the basement, she looks around a little. "Do you mind if I record this..? I might want to refer back to it later, so..." When Inga pulls out that knife, Inga can see Beatrice's muscles tense. She has obviously well-honed combat instincts, given the way she shifts her weight a bit seemingly unconsciously, getting into a position perfect for dodging to the side should Inga come at her! Not that she really expects her to, just... it's a conditioned response, apparently. Beatrice gasps in alarm as Inga cuts herself, her hands automatically paging through the grimoire on her tablet computer to find her healing spell - even as Inga assures her that she'll be fine. She doesn't cast it, though. Beatrice watches intently as Inga casts, watching the movement of that knife. She seems a bit surprised as the blood mist surrounds her... but gives a little sigh of relief as she feels the soreness in her muscles from class earlier ebbing.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga does note Beatrice's reactions. She's no warrior herself, but she knows many. Her gaze is keen and knowing, communicating understanding and a touch of amusement. The knife is usually only used on herself. "A recording? Ah...I do not think it would work here. The way magic works here, with Harry...technology does not do well. Indeed, you might wish to be careful of your....thing," she says, indicating the tablet. "There is more I can do with the blood, but wouldn't be easy to show you here...hmm," she says, thoughtfully, looking around the shelves. Inga selects a piece of wood and places it on the bare floor. As the wound she'd opened is already stopped bleeding, she reopens it with her knife without so much as a wince. This time, when she flicks the blood outward toward the object on the floor, the now blood covered piece of wood sizzles and begins to burn. Acid burns. "The effect is considerably more impressive on living things," she explains.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice looks a bit confused. "...Magic... making technology not... do well?" There's an obvious disconnect here. She just kinda stares in confusion, then looks down at her tablet. "...Seems fine to me..." she mumbles. "Although the, uh... wi-fi seems to have stopped working..." Huh. She looks up to watch Inga performing an... acidic blood attack on a piece of wood! "...Okay I can rationalise blood healing, or even forming barriers, but... acidic blood? I don't... I can't think of any scientific or symbolic reasoning for that to work..."
Inga Freyjasdottir	"Honestly, neither can I. But it does work. I need only to think of my blood becoming caustic and it does so," she comments with a small smile. "Many of what I can do now is new to me. I have learned magic since I was a child, but it wasn't always so...flashy," she comments, waving Beatrice over to a table that is obviously a work station. "This is wear I make talismans...is that something that is done in your world?" she asks, sitting down on the bench to show Beatrice a bit of carved bone she's been working on. Herbs hang in bundles nearby, along with a number of clear bottles filled liquids, powders, and small objects. There's a large jar that is obviously filled with bones. "I don't really understand either, though your...computer? Seems to be faring better than most other things I've seen come in close contact with him," she laughs.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice hmms a little bit. "So it responds to your imagination...? That's interesting..." She chuckles a bit. "Don't worry, this is new to me too~ I'm used to magic just requiring that you... shape the MPs in the proper way for a thing to happen." She follows Inga to that work station! "Talismans..? Uuh, yeah, although most people use mass-produced ones now. Some Shivan and Ifriti tribes still make them the old way, though. And you can buy them on Leviathan although a lot of them don't actually work. Mostly just... touristy gimmick cra- uh. Stuff." Beatrice licks her lips a bit. "Well, um. My world doesn't really have the whole... disconnect between magic and technology that a lot of other worlds seem to have."
Inga Freyjasdottir	"Mm, my imagination. I suppose. I also must channel my anima, of course," she responds. "I suppose that is what you may call.. 'MPs'" she adds. "The magical energy." Inga wrinkles her nose slightly. Mass production of talismans? How strange. "Well, my talismans work," she informs, a touch indignant. "See here? Here I use rune magic to empower the talisman...all the elements must work together harmoniously and been empowered with my anima," she explains. "Mmm, I have visited your world once. It was very interesting," Inga remarks.
Beatrice Marshal	"I... I didn't mean to imply that they wouldn't!" Beatrie assures quickly, raising her hands as if to ward off the miscommunication! "Just, um..." She trails off a bit. "It, um. It stands for 'magic particles', by the way. They're the... smallest, indivisible unit of magic. Every form of matter and energy is made up of them, which is why you can manipulate them to form any sort of matter or energy..." "Rune magic? That sounds... pretty similar to Arcanima, actually. Heh. Although the shapes are very different..." Pause. "Is till can't get over the fact that most worlds are just... spheres of -rock-. That's really weird!"
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga smiles, nodding to Beatrice. Now she feels a little bad about putting her on edge. A gentle pat on the shoulder is given, then Inga moves on. "Ah, I see. Interesting," she replies, eyebrows furrowing as she thinks over this explaination of MP. Inga runs a finger gently over the carved rune on the talisman in progress. "I make many of these. These are meant to ward off a particularly virulent...infection...from my world. Very, very difficult to get rid of, thus prevention is key," she explains quietly, her eyes growing distant. Her mouth quirks, shadows of expressions coming and going quickly, as if she were reacting to something only she can see. She shakes her head after a few moments, looking back to Beatrice. "Hmm? Oh..ah, yes I understand the land is...different. In the stories, we are told the world was formed from the body of the great giant Ymir. The land from his body and the oceas from his blood. It is so in your world, yes?"
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice nods her head slowly. "Oh. Yeah, that's... something a lot of people wear talismans and stuff for in Galianda, too. Although, uh. It might be somewhat less..." She trails off a bit. "I... suppose that's similar, yeah. Huh. Although it was six gods on Galianda, rather than just one. But I suppose that would explain how uniform most worlds are, if they only had one..."
Inga Freyjasdottir	"Oh, there are many gods. Ymir is just the being who's body formed the world. The gods are many. I'm sworn to serve them," she replies. Inga shakes her head, then, frowning. "Not like this infection. If it were in your world...you would know. It is different. It can be spread on a thought. Indeed, perhaps we shouldn't speak of it," she sighs. "Well, I have showed you a few things, hmm? Will you want to know about my Sight as well?" she asks with a hesistant smile. "Some would have me look into their futures or pasts, but not all. Though, sometimes, I do not get the choice," she says. "When I first met Harry I had a vision of an event in his past. It can be incredibly awkward," she adds with a sheepish laugh.
Beatrice Marshal	"Oh, yeah, Galianda has more gods than just the six who made up the Plates. I was just thinking, one god making an entire world rather than six would lead to a bit more... similarities in most parts of that world, right?" She's totally taking Inga at face value. This may be somewhat refreshing, given how many scientifically-minded people there are in the Union. "Yeah, let's... not talk about it then." Pause. "Your... Sight? Um. I don't... I'd really rather not know about my future, if it's... all the same to you? I mean. If the gods wanted me to know they're probably show me themselves. I doubt they'd send someone who serves an entire -other- set of gods!"
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga smiles. "Oh, it is fine by me. I just give you warning, sometimes I do not have a choice," she cautions, leaning on her staff a bit. Inga looks amused now, smiling. "You might think that, but other gods have spoken to me. I am just...sort of a open channel," she explains. "Well then, have you any other questions? Anything else you would like to see?" she asks.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice mmhs a little bit. "Well. If you do see my past or future without meaning to, that's okay. Just don't tell me and we'll be fine~" she responds, smiling a bit. "...I, um. I can't really... think of anything. I mean, I'd love to see 'the lightning' some time, and maybe see how you fight because that's always neat, but..." She shakes her head. "Nothing that's really appropriate for here is really coming to mind!"
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga blushes slightly. "Well, I haven't always a choice about that, either. If the gods speak through me with a prophecy...I must speak it. But other than that, I understand. I will not tell you what I see. Usually, I do not. There are always so many possibilities," she says, looking away. "Well, why don't you show me a bit of what you do? I am curious to see how your magic works," she says, smile returning.
Beatrice Marshal	"Oh, it's... one of those sorts of things? Well... I guess, if you're -forced- to I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you~" She can't help but giggle a little bit. "Aaah... sure, I can show you some things I can do. Um... Well I have two broad specialisations - Arcanima and Time Magic." Pause. "The latter of which is really more 'gravity magic' where I'm concerned. Actual time manipulation is... not my forte."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga laughs as well. "Oh, well, I am glad to hear I shall be forgiven!" she answers, glad of the lighthearted response. "Arcanima you said was a bit like the rune magic? /Time/!? There are people who can manipulate time?" she asks, eyes widening owlishly.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice nods her head. "Uh, yeah. Technically it's 'Time and Space Magic', but it's almost always abbreviated... But I can't even cast Slow. And that's meant to be the -easiest- time-related spell." She shrugs her shoulders! "Okay, Arcanima. Well, it's similar to rune magic in that it revolves around specific symbols, although I'm not sure how rune magic works, exactly. But..." She shows Inga the screen of her tablet. It's covered in geometric patterns that almost resemble star charts, if you squint. Lots of circles and inetrsecting lines. "Arcanima uses geometric patterns to shape MPs into the proper form to create the desired effect. For instance, I use this pattern, this pattern and -this- pattern to..." As she taps the symbols, they begin to faintly glow. The glow seems to be coming from the -surface- of the screen, rather than from the actual display itself. She holds the tablet up. "Call: Emerald!" A magic circle appears on the floor, slowly rotating, made up of the same symbols that Beatrice indicated. A small, multi-faceted green gemstone drops down from the ceiling (?!), bounces once, and then... a fluffy creature appears out of thin air, rotating as if it had appeared halfway through a backflip. It lands on all fours, and peers up at Inga curiously.
Inga Freyjasdottir	The wisewoman looks quite thoughtful. "Time...are there people who can travel through time? To the past?" she asks. Inga peers over then at the screen of the tablet, eyebrows rising at all the strange symbols there....then, toward the floor. "Ah! I have see such things. A summoning circle?" she guesses, just before a gemstone falls from out of thin air. Well, that could be useful! "You can summon wealth!? Oh...." she says, as the little creature follows. "You can summon...adorable creatures?" she asks. Want...to...pet!
Beatrice Marshal	"Nnnot to my knowledge? Mostly Time Magic revolves around speeding, stopping or slowing time. Making it run backwards is... -theoretically- feasible, as the mathematics work just fine in reverse, but I don't think anyone has ever managed it." She shrugs her shoulders! Beatrice rubs the back of her head. "Man I wish. The emerald is, um. It's just a special effect. Meant to evoke the way Summoners summon Carbuncle, you know?" "Teechnically this is Calling, not Summoning. Summoning involves summoning forth physical manifestations of the Gods. Calling involves creating constructs out of MPs directly." Beatrice stoops down to run a hand over the fluffy critter's head. "She's not actually... real. She's not alive or anything. But she -is- warm and fluffy."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga looks a bit disappointed, but quickly guards her expression so that Beatrice will not see the depth of it. Instead, she turns her attention to the fluffy creature, reaching out to touch it, smiling softly. She looks up then to Beatrice, curious. "Not real? A...construct. I've heard this term before. She is composed purely of magic?" she asks. The creature is warm and fluffy! Feels quite real to her. "What is the pupose of this Calling?"
Beatrice Marshal	Emerald makes a 'kyuu' sound as Inga touches it! It looks up curiously, head cocked to one side - that's a very realistic reaction for something that is apparently not real! "Composed entirely of magic, yes. Basically pseudo-matter held together by a constant stream of..." She trails off and rubs the back of her head. "It requires effort to keep her in one piece, I mean. Not much, but. There's effort involved." "Officially the purpose of our Homunculi - that's the technical term - is to serve as a sort of ally in combat. Emerald can control wind and help reinforce some of my disease-based offensive spells." Pause. She lowwers her voice a bit. "Unofficially...? Sometimes I Call her at night so I have something warm to cuddle in bed."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga continues petting the creature, having a difficult time thinking that this is completely formed with magic, and not actually alive. She listens to the explaination with an expression of vague understanding. When she comes to that last bit, Inga chuckles. "Like a little doll, but so much more life-like," she comments with a smile. She glances toward Harry, who is busy doing something or other. "That's what he's for," she snickers.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice blushes a bit, giving a light cough. "O-otherwise, um... What else to show... A lot of my magic is really combat-focused so I can't really show it off down here..." There's a pause. "Oh, there's something I can show you, actually. This is Time Magic - although I've... modified my Time Magic spells so I can cast them like I cast Arcanima. It's easier that way. Don't have to carry a staff everywhere..." She borses through her tablet for the right symbols, then taps them each in turn. "Float!" She calls, as she holds the tablet out, screen-first, towards Inga. Inga will then (assuming she doesn't resist the spell) feel herself lifting up off the ground. It's a little disorienting! But even if she ends up falling she won't hit the ground, staying about an inch in the air at all times. She also finds that -wanting- to move is apparently enough to move around. Handy!
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga watches, eyes widening as the spell is turned on her. She floats upwards off the floor, arms windmilling at the mostly unfamiliar sensation. "Oh!" she exclaims, clinging onto the wall. "I have had this done to me before! It is...very useful but goodness! So strange," she says, trying to sort of...swim through the air toward the stairs that lead out of the basement.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice can't help but giggle a little bit. "S-sorry. I just... man I can't get enough of seeing how people -react- to that..." She looks down. "I may be a terrible person." Beatrice follows after Inga. "I can also... manipulate gravity in other ways, although this space is a bit too small to really show that off. As for my Arcanima, I can... heal injuries or inflict targets with diseases or poisons... I have a couple of other attack spells, too..." She shrugs. "It's a little worrying when I think about just how militaristic my magic really is."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga grumps about it for a moment, then dissolves into giggles herself. "I imagine I do look fairly comical," she agrees, clinging to a step. "What I am supposed to do? To move myself?" she asks. Inga sighs then, nodding. "That seems to be the nature of our worlds. I have needed to be able defend myself so many times. My world is...its a bit of a mess it seems. I've bee chosen to do what I can...so, I must," she says, trying to pull herself upstairs while still floating. That's handy! "We may as well have more cake, hmm?"
Beatrice Marshal	"You just kinda have to... direct yourself. I mean... when you walk you don't think 'okay, raise this leg, lean forward, plant leg on the floor, raise other leg...' over and over, do you? It's a little like that." Pause. "That might be a terrible explanation..." Beatrice follows still. "My world is... well. A lot of our society is built around fighting The Enemy. Moreso on Odin, but even still... Even in Ramuh, there's a chance you'll get jumped by monsters just walking down the street for groceries. So... We fight. A lot. That's really what Jobs are all about - fighting - and we pretty much build our whole identities around our Jobs! I never used to think about it, but seeing other worlds..." "...Yes. More cake would be nice."
Inga Freyjasdottir	"Just...direct myself. Alright," she says, taking a deep breath. It is so with most magic. Visualization is key. Think of yourself floating in the directio you want to go, and it will happen. So, Inga thinks Up. And goes up! The woman looks quite pleased with herself as she floats out of the basement and back into the main apartment. "Er...well, could you perhaps dismiss the spell now?" she asks, hovering near the table over the vacinity of the cake...
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice can't help but giggle. "R-right. Sorry." She snaps her fingers! And Inga feels herself being gently lowered back to the ground. "I may have gotten a little carried away there..." she mumbles. "I don't often... like. Socialise. With people. Outside of the MogNet, anyway."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga wobbles as she's set down, throwing her hands out to catch herself.... Right into the cake. She gawks, looking down at the smooshed cake, at first forlorn, then begins to laugh. "Do not worry about it. You are pleasant company. You are welcome here any time--well, alright, /most/ of the time," she amends with a grin.
Beatrice Marshal	Beatrice fixes Inga with a Look. "...I'm fifteen," she says. For some reason. She then giggles a little bit. "Um, sorry about the cake. Should... still taste okay though, right?" She grins~ "Um. Thank you. By the way."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga blinks, tilting her head to the side. "Fifteen? Yes, I thought as much, but why is that relevant?" she asks. "Well, if you still want cake my hand has been in, you are welcome to it," she laughs, sitting. "You are quite welcome. I am glad you came to visit. Perhaps I will have to visit your world again soon."