isleofavalon | good morning, it's a flood [closed]

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good morning, it's a flood [closed]

🧙 WHO: Caesar & Kadoc (

impostorsyndrome)
⚔️️ WHAT: The rainy season interrupts breakfast at the hotel...
🕒 WHEN: Early April.
🗺️ WHERE: Ye olde hotel.
⚠️ WARNINGS: Nah.

[ Wake up, be miserable about the latest round of dream walking, slog down to breakfast and continue being miserable because it's so early, pocket as much breakfast food as possible because they sure as heck don't feed them anything else while here; this has essentially been Caesar's life for, what? About a month now?

Dreadful. It's the worst. He hates it. The complaints could go on forever but he simply doesn't have the energy for it and, now, it's raining. Raining and raining and it sounds like there won't be an end to it anytime soon, meaning even going outside to wander around is out of the question, so!

It's another terrible morning and Caesar is sulking at one of the little tables set up for the usual breakfast rush, food for the day stockpiled in front of him. A few bottles of juice, some bagels, little cereal boxes, and milk cartons. Probably some fruit, though if he's honest, he'll only eat those when he runs out of the rest.

He does have some oatmeal absolutely drowning in maple syrup cooling off directly in front of him, but he's drowsily picking at it instead of actually eating it, head held up by one hand with an elbow propped up on the table. If anything, he may very well nod off before he manages so much of a spoonful...

Long story short, someone looks like he's had a rough time of it, as per usual since he got here. ]

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[It's another terrible morning and Kadoc is out of the food stash he keeps in his room to avoid exactly these social morning situations.

He's always been like this; he can and does cook, but procuring food has always felt like a waste of time he could be spending doing literally anything else, much the same way sleep has always felt. So cooking or otherwise obtaining large quantities of food at once, to just grab whenever he needs it for the next week or two, without having to do things like cook, shop, look at menus, talk to delivery people, or anything else, has always been his go-to method of dealing with this. And here in Camelot, it's all about straight up stealing tons of breakfast whenever the time comes that he needs to venture down again out of his little hermit cave.

Well, it is free, anyway. And the innkeepers would probably stop him if they hadn't quickly come to realize that he only does this once a week at the very most. He'd gotten some dirty looks the first time, but after that . . . they understand.

This morning is one of those mornings. Kadoc had slept, as he usually does these days, to his own disappointment. Not being able to get around that with magecraft anymore sucks! He actually feels pretty rested this morning and it's weird and awkward, and it does not make him feel any better about slinking down to the dining area to make his usual "shopping" trip. It's just not a thing he enjoys. As he enters the dining room, his mind is on the possibility of maybe illusioning himself invisible today for this little venture. He's not tried that yet, but his Light magic has come a long way since—

Since the last time he ran into that guy mid-impending-nap at one of the tables there, in fact. Huh. So he does exist in real life. . . . Of course that was to be assumed, but Kadoc still has a Moment upon seeing him in person, while neither of them are asleep.

At least while one of them isn't asleep?

He could go about his business; he thinks he might, consciously. But unconsciously, his feet are already leading him in that direction. It's not like he hasn't been curious since that night. So this is apparently happening: he comes up quietly to the other side of the table, not sitting, but hovering awkwardly nearby.]

. . . You could just take it back up to your room and sleep there. I wouldn't recommend oatmeal in bed, though.

[Hello, nice to meet you, etc.]

[ Kadoc approaching doesn't register right away and it isn't until he speaks up that Caesar straightens up with a start, snapping out of the oncoming nap he'd been fighting against. He turns to look at Kadoc in a quick, sharp motion but after a second of staring, recognition floods his face.

That guy, from the cold dream... ]

I was hoping for a hot breakfast before hauling everything up there.

[ He admits after another second or two of staring, more to get his wits back together than due to any ongoing surprise. ]

But I've found that increasingly difficult as of late. [ That aside, he waves towards the other chair at his little table. ] You know, apart from people that I already knew, you're the first person from all those dreams I've run into?

Seriously?

[For a moment, he continues to hover there awkwardly. Kadoc is not in the habit of receiving or accepting unexpected invitations to stick around a while. But that moment of adjustment doesn't mean he doesn't want to—hell, he'd been the one to approach the guy in the first place, what is he, an idiot? Of course he should sit down if they're going to talk. So he does, folding into the chair and then forward to lean on the table, arms crossed.]

How many dreams did your familiar even shove you into . . . ? Is it still happening?

[ And while Kadoc hovers awkwardly, Caesar holds that gesture towards the other chair, staring at him expectantly. Well? Come on, mage guy, don't make this weird. When he finally does, he'll set his hand back down on the table and just... not comment. He's too tired to be pointlessly rude right now, which in itself is a small miracle. ]

I don't know. I've lost count by now. She's still under the impression that it's the best way to learn.

[ Or his familiar really enjoys tormenting him. It's hard to tell. ]

[He does have the self-awareness to be embarrassed as he takes a seat. That moment dragged on just a few seconds too long! But it's passed now . . . and his dining companion here sure does look exhausted. It's a look Kadoc knows well from looking in the mirror.]

That sounds more like sadism.

[He has a similar thought. Yikes.]

Not that it can't be both. Really digging deep into training in something totally new is definitely a form of masochism, but it's also the only way to really master something. I'm just surprised she's so invested. . . . I get the feeling they've all got some idea of what we need as individuals.

[Kadoc's, for example, wordlessly-yet-passive-aggressively suggests he needs to take a break to get some food or sleep. He's gotten the point by now, even if he doesn't always listen.

If that's true, it would suggest Caesar needs to be pushed into training, huh . . . he does seem like he might be the type. Hadn't he said before in that dream that the rune thing had sounded like too much trouble back home? Hmm.]

When you put it that way...

[ Caesar is reluctant to admit his overall laziness when it comes to putting a nose to the grindstone and studying. He was a bane to all teachers, skipping class, avoiding study halls, refusing to turn in homework, yet passing every test with flying colors.

If his familiar saw that and decided learning the hard way was the best approach, then does he have anyone to blame but himself? He grimaces and stabs the spoon into the cooling oatmeal, leaving it there to stand on its own in the thick, gooey oats. ]

I do learn better by doing. I abhor studying and debating theory. It's all so dull and pointless when we could simply be putting what we've learned into action instead.

That's legit.

[Very legit. Even Kadoc, who is the sort of nerd who enjoys things like writing essays about magecraft and drowning himself in books of theory, also likes practical application. Theory can only take you so far. He leans on the table and watches the spoon begin its very, very slow tip over with a little spark of amusement. That's some thick oatmeal.]

It's impossible to know what you're doing until you do it. I could pull a week of all-nighters and still not have a feel for how I'd manage something when it came to actually doing it, or whether I could even manage it at all. . . . I ran into that a lot.

[More than he'd like. He frowns, still at the spoon, then lets that pass as he lifts his gaze again.]

As much as I think your magic type's pretty enviable, when it comes to practicing that part of it, I guess you're stuck with this sadistic method. It's not like you can head out into the forest and practice on your own like I can with mine. Dream magic's a whole other ballgame.

Usually, I have no trouble knowing exactly how I would manage something even if I only knew the theory up until a point.

[ Running a war against a bigger, badder kingdom? No problem. He'd trained for that all his life. Magic? Magic was different. He couldn't rely on gut feelings alone when practice was required, learning a whole new skill — even a whole new sense — from scratch.

He, too, looks down to watch the slowly tipping spoon. It really is thick oatmeal, isn't it? ]

It isn't all dream magic, anyway. I can do, what? Mind speech? That one's been easier to pick up but what's worse is while I was only getting a grip on this cognitive crap, I got slapped with even more magic I didn't ask for.

[Ah, of course. That's right, Caesar would've gotten new magic too, like everyone else. Kadoc finds himself slumping onto the table juuuust a little more, slowly, like a spoon standing in oatmeal. About that elegant, too.]

. . . What kind?

[He wants to know: because he's curious, because he hasn't yet asked anyone openly what the whole process of awakening to a new one is like since he hasn't wanted to admit he didn't go through it, and because it's like a scab one can't help but pick at. For a seemingly innocent question, it sure comes out dreary.]

[ Why does he look so depressed about it, huh? ]

Nothing useful. Animal magic or whatever. Ever eavesdrop on a flock of sparrows? It's so pointless, there's simply no value in it...

[ Not that he's figured out yet, anyway. It was mostly about what they'd been eating at the time, as one might expect with tiny animals. ]

[It's an interesting thing about Caesar that it's hard to stay too gloomy around him, maybe because he's somewhat gloomy and negative himself, isn't he? Maybe this is what people feel like talking to Kadoc, he thinks, though with more fondness than he usually thinks of anything to do with himself. Either way, the answer lightens his mood a little, visibly.

It does also help that Kadoc too thinks of Animal magic as the least useful kind . . . though he'd still happily take it over the nothing he got.]

Compared to some of the others, yeah, you got the raw end of the deal. But it's not totally worthless. Maybe you could send a swarm of bees into Celliwig to spy on whatever that whole deal is. . . . Or turn into one yourself, but that's pretty high level.

[And would also suck.]

[ Kadoc's relief is Caesar's misery. ]

Bees... [ why bees ] Wait, people with Animal magic can turn into them? Ugh, that's even worse, not unless I can turn into a cat and sleep on a roof all day.

[ And even then! He could sleep on a rooftop as himself easily, no fur required! ]

I don't know. Maybe I can order a flock of crows around with mind powers now or something. That might be useful.

[ Though beyond their conversation at the little hotel table, there's suddenly a burst of shouting and motion as people back away from the front doors. This brings any brainstorming over how to manage animals to a pause as Caesar looks up sharply, glancing over to see what the fuss is.

The hotel doors are bulging inwards, water from the unending rainstorm outside already drizzling in under the cracks. ]

[That does sound pretty useful, actually. Crows are intelligent birds! Mythologically significant! He's a fan, and he's beginning to open his mouth to actually say some of that when the shit hits the fan, or rather, the water hits the door. Now his attention is one hundred percent on that commotion, and he finds himself scrambling to his feet before his brain even begins to decide what it's going to do.]

—Shit. You've gotta be kidding me! . . . You might wanna suddenly figure out how to turn into a fish if this is as bad as it looks.

[What to do, what to do—block it is his first instinct, barely even a thought as he begins to shove his way in the direction of the door. Putting up a barrier is something he can actually do! It's not a long-term solution, but it's the one that spring to mind.]

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good morning, it's a flood [closed]

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