Scene #9658: The Great Matilda's Flying Lesson

Owner	Pose
Lissandra	It had been a while since the idea was suggested, but Lissandra hadn't forgotten. While she might not admit it, she'd even rearranged her work so that she could more easily clear her other tasks for the week by noontime today, before sending a message along to Matilda. Not via phone, but... Courier bluebird? Certainly not the usual sort of bird to train. One way or another it finds Matilda on the Foundation campus while she's outside or near a window, lands in front of her and gets a good look at her face before nibbling through a thin piece of twine around its leg to free a little rolled up note. The bird flutter-hops closer and sets it right at her feet, pauses to see if it can bum a treat off of her, then turns and takes off again. It reads, "I've freed up the day for that diversion we discussed before. We can meet at my previous home for privacy; the warpgate address is below. Approach the forest's edge and one of my little friends will guide you." Maybe Lissandra's hoping Matilda enjoys some of the quaint charms of doing things like this? It certainly feels like she's doing it on purpose, avoiding using a phone and making her go a little more out of her way to see the witch's original 'hut'- it's more of a cottage though. Matilda did make it quite clear how much she likes nature and clear views of the sky, too. When Matilda comes out of the warpgate into Lissandra's homeworld she finds herself at the top of a high hill, ringed with tall grass but worn through down to the dirt in a long spiraling footpath around the side. It's bright out, temperate, with just enough clouds in the sky to intermittently dim the sun for a few minutes at a time. The grass is slightly wet from this morning, still. The foot of the hill hosts what looks like a multi-organizational encampment; not massive, and clearly not what the permanent state of the place will look like in another half-year as she can observe two different brick buildings being constructed amongst the tents. There are soldiers present equipped with strangely non-metallic weapons and armor, like ceramic armor plates and strangely glass-like blades. Nobody is alarmed by Matilda's arrival; the most scrutiny she might get is stares that lead into downturned faces, the occassional unfortunate mumbling of something like "So other worlds have them after all...", and a strangely cheery grin and wave from a man with a thin metallic staff and white hair that's short except for in the back where it's worked into several long braids. He doesn't step away from the conversation he's having with a soldier and a priest beside one of the build-sites, but he does bizarrely raise his voice to speak directly to Matilda as she's walking by. "Hello! Welcome! Have fun today! I believe in you, miss!!" Believe in her for what? Who knows! He doesn't seem to plan on actually waylaying her right now, but he certainly seemed to be expecting her. Fortunately after leaving the encampment-slash-buildsite, it's mostly a short trip offroad to reach the forest's edge like she was asked to; Matilda finds her escorts waiting for her in the form of a quartet of squirrels, who all line up just so and raise their forepaws into the air like they're flagging her down, then turn to spring along at a leisurely pace. The walk isn't too bad. The forest is thick and the roots of the trees leave the ground uneven, and it would normally be fairly easy to get lost here, but with guidance from the animals it's really no worse than Matilda's last hike at all. Thirty minutes or so pass, and she finally is led to the side of a stream that slices the forest floor up against the side of a half-dome rock formation. The squirrels lead her across some relatively flat protruding stones in the stream, then Matilda finally lays eyes on Lissandra's inherited home.
Lissandra	Cradled between the tall, clifflike rock-face, the nearby stream, and the rest of the forest, Lissandra's cottage sprawls out a little wider than most such homes do. Nestled in beside it are a tool shed and a modest open-front workshop that smells of sawdust more than anything. Between the house and the stream is Lissandra's main garden, where numerous plants are growing from the earth beside the flowing water with only mudrock slabs keeping them from intruding into one-anothers space too much. The front of the cottage, too, is lined with trough planters, hanging planters, little brown clay pot-planters, all with different things in them. Some are flowering, others seem to be out of season, and some are just literally moss planters with little pieces of rotwood and stones to grow on. There are more pots inside next to the windows, too, and four different bird feeders are hanging from poles staked into the ground a short distance away. It doesn't take long for the two to find each other once Matilda arrives. She has a minute or two to snoop around outside, though the squirrels do seem to be trying to tour-guide for her, showing her a particularly climbable tree and a charmingly cozy hole beneath it that is far too small for Matilda. Then, Lissandra comes out of the cottage! Her hair is all gathered up and folded and pinned in place like she's been hard at work, but she's bothered to change into some black slacks and a snug grey sweater before coming out to wave down Matilda. "Madamoiselle Bouanich," she starts, putting a little bit of a playful-dramatic tone on it while stealing a word she's never used until now, before dropping to a more relaxed register again. "It's pleasant to see you again. I hope all was well on the trip here? I thought this might be a more pleasant environment to spend the day, as compared to the public park near my newer home." She's already holding a spare broom (a quite mundane one) tucked under her arm and against her side, but small talk is part of the point of meeting up like this!
Foundation Scions	"Ah!? Un oiseau... messager? Tout comme le destin l'avait prédit!" . . . Matilda, by nature of when she has free time, is rarely able to set off on ventures like this when she isn't either already a little bit worn out from her many tasks, or else she's doomed to be worn out from juggling duties to need to be completed later, with less time. Today, it's both of them! The excursion excused by business of the FDMO, she's crammed early-in-the-morning to complete groundskeeping duties at the SPDM, and she's fated to have to file a report about this outing afterwards, if she doesn't also stop by the City and the Trídéag Association for practice, and- whoof! That's a packed schedule! Still, she's an excitable little mote of eagerness! Dressed up in her adventerous silly overall-shorts, and adorable flat-topped hat, she's so excited to go to another world, to get to touch and try new-to-her magics, and to see what it's like there, where it's, maybe, from what she's heard, just a little bit more along the lines of romanticized arcanum, 'how it used to be', not that that specific sentiment would cross her mind in clarity. She's all curious-gazes and hat-holding smiles in the breezy clearing, and humming-pleasant as she trudges, without much mind, through the encampment- only really asking stuff like 'are the woods that-way?' to the unbothered guards, stranger's gazes and mumblings no different than the usual- save for the one! 'Hello! Welcome! Have fun today! I believe in you, miss!' What a strange reception! She stops, almost cocking her head in faint confused-amusement, first quiet to herself, "Hein? Il a raison de dire que, mais..." Louder, with only most of the confusion banished, "I, give you my thanks for the quite appropriate welcome! Surely I will do exactly that, but- who are you, mister..?" Nevertheless, she's got to pull away and carry on her trek, even if that means an abrupt departure after allowing herself to, actually, be waylaid. Squirrels as a messenger is very novel! Watching them wave her down earns a giggle, and Matilda squatting down, hands-on-knees, to get near them with a "Salut! Quelle charme bizzare... Do you speak?" Matilda swapping to English, in order to speak to animals, or to strangers, or to Elites, is a habit she won't notice- French is a language she won't get Results from speaking; not in the surroundings she's used to, and the habit's stuck despite any of the translation-effect of the Multiverse. Nevertheless, she stays giggly and excited, if a bit hesitant, to follow the squirrels through the forest- this is right out of a fairy-tale! She knows such arcane skills to befriend and utilize animals (or critters) exist, but, wow! It's an exciting little hike, and it's not as if Matilda is at risk of not finding her way should she lose track of the squirrels- she's brought her Orb, and thus nearly maxed out her carrying-capacity. A climable tree has her considering her options, before reluctantly focusing on-task, the too-small hole earns the squirrels a chastising "Tsk! Please consider the realities of geometry!"
Foundation Scions	"Ah-hah! Ms. Lissandra! I like your squirrels, though, they are a bit silly! I hope you have been well!" Matilda adds, smiling, and immune to dramatic-tone severity, and lets out a big calming-down sigh- "What is that large encampment across from the warp-gate..? It is a bit curious! I only looked around a small-amount!" 'I thought this might be a more pleasant environment to spend the day, as compared to the public park near my newer home.' "It is quite quaint and pleasant! But, fear not! Matilda Bouanich, she is most adept in both the cosmopolitan city-environs, and those of the country-side! But, no parks would hold up, of course, to those of Paris, so, I do not blame your selection at all! Why allow something to be compared when it has no need to!" Matilda sighs, holding onto the strap of her orbuculum-duffel, rocking a little bit back and forth on the balls of her feet. "The weather, it seems most fortunate for the activity! Is that broom, one capable of maintained flight..?" A little less brave, "How high-up do they go? Zeno Arms Institute, their flying brooms, they are quite terrifyingly-efficient! And require lots of training, even to those clearly born with immense talent for it! But, those look quite different, so!"
Lissandra	Fortunately for Matilda's schedule, the white-haired man has similar concerns of preexisting engagement to consider; still, he can't stand to be so rude as to ignore her when she does linger. The pair he was speaking to are somewhat disgruntled, but he tries to assuage them with small 'forgive me!' gestures while not even looking them in the eyes. "Cae- oh! I suppose the name is useless... 'The Violet Witch', then! I will have to bother you some other time, but be well!" He genuinely seemed thrilled just to see Matilda passing through. Maybe as a sign of more visitors to come, or maybe he's heard something about her and Lissandra's plan for the day? Later, the squirrels... Do not speak. Not in words, anyway; they seem to comprehend just enough that one of them makes a quiet chirping noise, but really that could have been a fluke. Still, they never leave her too far behind while guiding, so there's some amount of attention paid to her care along the way; they'll bound ahead a couple dozen feet, then pause to look back, then rinse and repeat. This sets a relatively brisk, but manageable pace. Her chiding is recognized mostly for tone, leaving most of the little creatures relatively unimpressed, while one of the lot scales that tree in a few clinging bounds and shakes a thin branch until an immature walnut falls down beside Matilda. That's a clear sign of retaliation! Lissandra seems pleased that her little messengers left a good impression. Stepping over to squat in front of them not unlike how Matilda had before, she rewards the three still on the ground with small fishnet bags of whole-shelled nuts that might normally be out of season here, sending them on their way. They don't go that far though; Matilda can see them scamper up into a pair of trees a little ways away. "There you go... They certainly can be charmers, when they want to be. I have been quite fine, thank you; just juggling various obligations more often than not." she answers, standing back up while gesturing toward the front of her home. She offers, "If you'd like to set your things down, be my guest." before answering Matilda's question about the gate encampment. "Ah, that... Well, talks have been ongoing for some time about whose custody the territory around the gate belongs to, for the obvious reasons. Part of my joining the Paladins was on the stipulation that they provide oversight to the negotiations, and- well, the short version is that there will be a town built there sooner or later. The gate is valuable, and it isn't just local rulers who want their stake in the traffic that passes through it; plenty of the other Witches have their own interests, too." After a moment, Lissandra's mouth curls downward just briefly toward a frown. "There were some skirmishes in the area, somewhat recently. So, posting soldiers and members of the clergy there is a way to help secure the area for travel in the short term. They won't remain forever, though." She's content to follow Matilda through the conversation after that, smirking almost a little enviously about Matilda talking up her homeland as soon as she has an excuse to. "I will keep that in mind, should we have any more meetings of leisure. Perhaps someday I will have cause to tour Paris myself?"
Lissandra	"You're quite right, though. The weather is ideal. I had half a mind to bother Stinne for an adjustment, had it been wet and bleary after all the work I did to open up the day." Around then, she hands Matilda the broom she's carrying, exactly as if she were only expecting her to sweep with it, but after lifting the bottom of her sweater to access the wand at her hip she's soon at work preparing it for its real duties of the day with comfortable, familiar motions that don't seem to detract from conversation, though she sometimes seems to double-back on her own wandstrokes as if correcting an error in written script. She starts by wiping the length of her wand on her sleeve as if out of habit, then presenting the point like a paintbrush. She swirls it in neat little spirals, emitting and changing the type of her own arcane energy with the wand while containing it to several small points. "The broom itself is... Merely a broom. Really, there is no requirement to use such a thing for this." Lissandra clarifies, starting to draw the wand between the points she created before, as if pulling pooled ink outward with its point. "I am not terribly surprised that those produced technologically for advanced pilots would be quite advanced. I believe the best way to understand this is... To not think of it as a vehicle. It is not a machine that operates under the interactions of multiple parts. It is more like a trained creature." Lissandra makes the final few strokes quickly; this particular spell produces no visible light-display, but Matilda may still be able to sense and infer the moment of the spell's completion, particularly when the broom seems to suddenly lose all of its natural inertia in her grip. "Have you ridden a horse, and guided it with reins? This will be quite similar. Once you are situated..." Lissandra pauses, slotting her wand away again and stepping forward to put her hand on the handle of the broomstick before Matilda actually gets astride it. She grips with her left hand around a quarter of the way down from the blunt end with the thumb extended in alignment, and more or less just brushes her fingertips against the opposite quarter-mark, toward the bristles. "Most of the guidance, you will do with the leading hand. Keep a firm grip with your fingers. Use your wrist and thumb to tell it where you wish to go. Try to keep your arm stable; if you wrench with your arm suddenly, you'll just flip yourself over. Take it slow at first, and keep calm; even if you fall down, you will be okay. If you need to stop suddenly, put your other hand behind where you're sat, and pull up with both hands. Make sense?"
Foundation Scions	'I suppose the name is useless...' "It is?" Matilda is a little too baffled to press further, but 'Violet Witch' sounds like a big deal! That's the same naming scheme by which Lissandra is the 'Red Witch'! What that exactly means eludes her, but, the importance is clear! So- as she's half turned around to walk away, and the Violet is likewise leaving, Matilda quiet-adds, "How do you know of me? Some other time?" . . . Matilda is more than happy to (gently) set her orbuculum bag down, with a clear shift to her center of gravity once it's down in place- by the door, on decking or on any sort of bench or outdoor-table near it. It's almost comical the way she sighs and stretches after. 'Well, the short version is that there will be a town built there sooner or later.' "I have heard that is often the case! It makes sense, I think, such as the congregations of people around river-mouths, and mountain-passes! It is a small shame that such cannot exactly happen around the grounds of the St. Pavlov Foundation... Ah, well." "Was it by coincidence, that such a warp-gate appeared nearby to your home, here? Or, did you move to be this-approximately close by? It must be very convenient! Er-" Hesitant, because it means admitting to a lack of preparedness, "Is this area, within some nation or state..? From where you are from? It must be somewhat frightening for soldier fighting to occur so close-by." 'I had half a mind to bother Stinne for an adjustment,' "And, yet, it is perfect! I am sure it will make a very picturesque evening! Especially from up atop the warp-gate's hill! Or, er, I suppose the sky itself is much higher than that, and, well, it is no large hassle for you to be up within it to watch!" A hint of nervousness is there! Matilda likes high places, and climbing, but flying is a little new! Scary! Matilda holds tight onto the broom as soon as its put into her hands, looking down at it for a moment, a little confused, as she isn't yet sure what to do with it- it's clear once Lissandra's wand is out, but until then, it does look like she might be ready to just start sweeping. Matilda Bouanich is peer pressure-able, even if she's not sure what the pressure is towards! Holding it steady and out away from herself, though, as Lissandra begins casting, she takes up as proud of a stance as she can, because she has to. Despite this, Matilda is sto;; watching, focused, from the moment Lissandra pulls her wand out. Absentmindedly, or perhaps in a memorization-technique, one of Matilda's fingertips starts to mimic the wand-swirlies, small and less-accurate, as she can't let go of the broom. Quieter, as if not to break Lissandra's focus, but still curious to the point of interrupting, "Is this incantation routine and mundane, to animate the brooms such..? Or, is it a specialty just of yours?" Then, a little further in, "Saying words is unnecessary to your working of arcanum? Not that such a thing is unheard-of, but-! Each time I have seen you work an incantation, there has been no incanting! Is that how it is done, here? I, have been meaning to ask!"
Foundation Scions	'Have you ridden a horse,' "I have ridden atop a horse! And, the horse was in-fact guided by reigns!" But phrased like that, no, she was just put on a horse that was led by someone else. As a tiny child, no doubt. It was probably just a pony, even. "So, these brooms, once animated... do they have, 'personality'? Ways they act, and, opinion on things?" She watches, and carefully (more so than really needed) copies the hand-positioning Lissandra shows, which is a good thing, because Matilda was, if not for the direction, going to try to ride the broom as one would one of the horse-stick children toys, or a motorcycle, and not atop it somewhat more sideways, for how that hand-posture implies. She nods along to instruction, before adding, still a little nervous- "I see! I understand! I will not fall, or lose-control, surely, I'll demonstrate immediate talent! Watch!" Atop the broom, hands in the right places, she commands, like the broom will listen, "Montez!" With an upwards tug with her leading hand, she tries to jolt up into the air; when it works, she almost yelps, until it devolves into a giggle, and a wobble to not just keep rising up, or falling down, or anything-else. Clutching now over-tight, "Super! Oh, hah! What a convenient incantation!"
Lissandra	While the cottage lacks much of a porch for Matilda's bag, the front door is open and there's space just inside for it, amongst Lissandra's own extra bags of tools and things she might take out of the house on an outing or into the garden- none of which she's been seen openly carrying on the job, yet. The little peek Matilda gets while poking her head inside shows a living room with little space for merely living, with a couch shoved up against a wall and the bulk of the room's space devoted to tables and countertops, arranged just so that one can stand in the midst of them and juggle various tasks one after another. There's even a carefully sheltered stone firepit in the center, the perfect image of something to set a big iron pot atop. Or, cliche as it is, a cauldron. Cauldrons are sorely underrated. Lissandra seems content hearing Matilda's questions and observations, just a little bit like one might be content to listen to a rainstorm from the comfort of their home. "It has always been the way of people to settle where comforts and useful things are found, it's true. As for the gate... I didn't move to be here, no. At least not with that in mind. I was merely one of the first to notice it when it appeared." She pauses and puts up a finger to say 'just one second' as she heads inside, barely disappearing beyond the doorway before she's returning with a long towel, a kettle, some small clay cups and a plate of cookies all tucked between her arms and her chest. Save the kettle, anyway- that dangles from her fingers. She spreads it all out on the grass like a miniature picnic and pours some herbal tea for herself while she watches Matilda, remaining hands-off once it seems that the younger woman has a grasp on the instructions she gave before. "This forest in particular has been argued over for decades by three different nations, but none of them have sought it strongly enough to commit forces to keeping it. Much less thinning it for construction. My Master had her reputation, and I have mine now, and now following my association with the Paladins it essentially has become my own territory in an official capacity." Somehow, she feels slightly smug when she sips from her teacup after saying so, and the way she declines to name the nations or people involved feels almost pointed. Maybe even spiteful! "The spot where the gate appeared, though, lay within known borders." "That hill has a bit of little-known mythology to it, actually. That some great figure of the past chose to martyr themselves there in protest of a war at the time- that's the most common version at least. Usually the stories posit that they were a priest of great reknown, and that it led the site to become blessed with fortune, and that those who live peaceful lives may visit to be blessed in turn." Lissandra makes a half-hearted neck-rolling movement like she wants to be derisive of the story, but she'd feel bad for bringing Matilda's mood down right now, so she doesn't commit fully to being a sourpuss. "... It was certainly a magically charged site, but until the gate had appeared, there wasn't much reason to assume merit to the myth. It could still be a coincidence even with that in mind." She sips again, and rushes through the talk of soldiers to get back to the comfy topics- though maybe it's more than that? "I've seen worse conflicts, but I admit it was displeasing to discover a bloodbath so nearby. The proximity to the gate and to my forest has left me with little option but to pay attention to things I would happily leave to others if I could. I even ended up roped into treating the wounded afterward... I think I did a fair enough job building their anxiety that they aught not to expect me to do so every time they gut themselves on my front lawn, at least. I made what data I could from the experience."
Lissandra	Lissandra seems to be trying to sound aloof and dismissive, and she certainly doesn't sound like she's lying either, but there's a dullness in her voice that gives away that she's still quite bothered by it all regardless of how she handled it this time. Now, though, it's just about time to stop talking about things that she could so easily work herself into a sour mood with; Matilda's over there looking forward to more fun things! "Would you believe me if I said I quite like the rain? I don't believe I always felt that way, but I've grown to. It's almost as if it speeds along all the little processes of life. The plants grow, the stones weather... Perhaps I aught have been a water mage. I may just take that up with any divinities I may eventually face." She says so with a more pleasant tone, like she's halfway to making a joke. "Flight was a wonderful side-effect of the original purpose of animating my belongings, but I confess I don't use it merely for whimsy as much as I could. I still get my own anxieties upon being too high up..." Lissandra says, partly reiterating something she's said before and partly making an admission. "The spell itself, though? I bargained for it in parts. The Grey developed the means for animating the inanimate, and I obtained information on Law magic with which to further refine the instructions given to an object. Though I suppose the specific magic used to manipulate physical forces is relatively accessible to anyone with a half-decent filtering implement." She then blinks, and clarifies by tapping her hip where she's slotted the wand back away in its holster. "So... Hardly mundane in its creation, but the specific forms in which I use it are familiar to me. But that is mostly because the individual 'programming' is something I have done the mental labor of understanding well in advance, and practiced many times. Were I to alter the Law magic governing its ability to respond to stimuli, or the way in which it would respond, it would require a bit of study and testing to ensure the magic as a whole remains coherent." Lissandra smiles a little strangely when Matilda hones in specifically on verbal incantations. She sets her teacup aside and gingerly draws her wand again, sliding it out in reverse-grip and flipping it upright in her palm. "... I wouldn't say that it's 'how it's done here', per se. In the rare case that you might find someone properly schooled in magic by an elder, you would very likely find them using vocalizations, even if only partial incantations. For most, they're a useful mmnemonic tool, and even experienced mages will find value in incanted spells another way- complex magic that takes a great deal of time to construct can be... 'Locked in' throughout the process, by using more physical actions, materials and offerings, in order to offload certain steps of otherwise quite onerous mental labor, or render a highly consumptive process more efficient. Some disattributed spells are known to kill their casters without a perfect degree of aptitude, or appropriate effort placed into the materials and incantations." "... But for the most part, my magical output is... Quite gradual, as Lilian so aptly observed. I hold myself to things that can be used repeatedly, quickly, and silently for the most part, though I do occassionally slip a mote of Law magic in here and there, to utilize verbal instructions in a spell. So, it isn't so much that incantations are uncommon, as much as that I have taught myself a method that isn't always friendly toward well-projected speech. It helps me stand my ground somewhat better as a duelist also, when such is necessary."
Lissandra	She's probably still talking well into Matilda having begun to practice flight, and seeing Matilda have those first clumsy moments of getting her balance and getting a feel for how to guide the broom puts a richer smile on Lissandra's face. "There you go, you managed not to spill yourself on the ground immediately!" It's half-encouragement and half-teasing, both implying it's normal to fuck up that badly and also associating Matilda with the idea of being rated as 'normal', which is surely unthinkable. "Whatever it is that I animate with magic might have a... Personality of a kind, I suppose? But it is only a presupposed set of behaviors, primarily directly in response to specific actions. For flying, I try to leave as little 'fluff' as possible within the spell, lest there be a risk of losing control... But I confess, other tools I have now and again instructed to, well, dance and be silly. Just now and then." she explains, stepping over a little closer again as Matilda reaches aerial stability a few feet off the ground. Matilda's giggles prompt Lissandra's giggles in turn, and Lissandra flicks the tip of the broom playfully with her fingernail as if to unbalance it..! But, no, the magic compensates just fine without input from Matilda. "Good going! Once you're stable, try and relax your back and shoulders a little. If you're too tense, your sense of balance suffers. When you're ready, try leaning a little forward; shifting your weight onto your foreward hip signals it to move. I've set the speed relatively low, so you'll have time to adjust."