Good, [he says, for public bathroom emotional support and being fine both. He pauses to think of where the beginning actually is, for all of this to make sense. Well—]
Necromancy is an unmastered thing, [he says, and allows himself one second only of private amusement that God and the various Lyctors around would be pissy at him for saying it. Ahem,] By my estimate there are infinitely many things we don't know it can do, because the accepted rules contradict a possibility, or it's— harder to prove something worked, when it's tested.
[He slips hand into Viktor's hair, running his fingers through it, blinking away the next onset of tears that wells up for this particular topic.]
At home, the dead go to the River. Not like the sea here, I can assure you, so that coincidence is mercifully not some even greater Powers That Be thinking they're funny. [fuck the sea, personally,] Souls in the River go mad, usually.
[He closes his eyes on a sigh, feels an abrupt spark of panic and opens them again— okay, even the dark behind eyelids is a little much right now, lesson learned. He frowns.]
Next point: Camilla and I went to the First to become a Lyctor. It went— wrong. People died, I died, and I will never in a million years apologize to Cam enough for that— but I'm very good at my job. In the River I built myself a room, and I stayed there, reading that god awful novel over and over, while Cam carried a piece of me around. This isn't— no one did this before me, and it worked, but the unknowns are even greater, and...
[And the unknowns are very exciting for the part of him dedicated to research, but first: the focus problem.]
I was in there for eight months and I didn't even know that. Nothing happens. Nothing- necromancy doesn't work. Nothing kept me whole except focusing on it. I couldn't do anything about it from where I was and then I woke up on the beach surrounded by corpses. I thought maybe I'd slipped into the River properly— I didn't-
[He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head a fraction. It's been weird.]
My work didn't go as planned the second time, here. That's how I know its function is fundamentally different. You can ask questions now.
no subject
Necromancy is an unmastered thing, [he says, and allows himself one second only of private amusement that God and the various Lyctors around would be pissy at him for saying it. Ahem,] By my estimate there are infinitely many things we don't know it can do, because the accepted rules contradict a possibility, or it's— harder to prove something worked, when it's tested.
[He slips hand into Viktor's hair, running his fingers through it, blinking away the next onset of tears that wells up for this particular topic.]
At home, the dead go to the River. Not like the sea here, I can assure you, so that coincidence is mercifully not some even greater Powers That Be thinking they're funny. [fuck the sea, personally,] Souls in the River go mad, usually.
[He closes his eyes on a sigh, feels an abrupt spark of panic and opens them again— okay, even the dark behind eyelids is a little much right now, lesson learned. He frowns.]
Next point: Camilla and I went to the First to become a Lyctor. It went— wrong. People died, I died, and I will never in a million years apologize to Cam enough for that— but I'm very good at my job. In the River I built myself a room, and I stayed there, reading that god awful novel over and over, while Cam carried a piece of me around. This isn't— no one did this before me, and it worked, but the unknowns are even greater, and...
[And the unknowns are very exciting for the part of him dedicated to research, but first: the focus problem.]
I was in there for eight months and I didn't even know that. Nothing happens. Nothing- necromancy doesn't work. Nothing kept me whole except focusing on it. I couldn't do anything about it from where I was and then I woke up on the beach surrounded by corpses. I thought maybe I'd slipped into the River properly— I didn't-
[He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head a fraction. It's been weird.]
My work didn't go as planned the second time, here. That's how I know its function is fundamentally different. You can ask questions now.