|
Rats.
Sept 11, 2008 1:15:34 GMT -5
Post by redtopaz on Sept 11, 2008 1:15:34 GMT -5
"I'm fine," Nex said, meaning it. He could now sit up straight and his breath was semi-normal. He was no longer wheezing and huffing, at least. He crossed his arms over the handlebars, leaning his weight against them.
"Well, we sort of lived off on our own. See, I'm a..." He paused to do the math. "A quarter Dream. I actually came her to get away from the farm. Well, I say farm, but it was more like we had a couple of chickens. After I got here, I got a great job at the hospital. I've been working on developing my healing magic and it's the perfect place to get some experience!" he finished with a grin.
"Does that thing do different speeds? Cause we can move and talk at the same time, I think. That's really neat about you living near the castle. Everyone I've met so far is really well connected. So, do you know the royal family well and all?" he asked, with a fair amount of interest. He was more enamored of her strange mechanical bike than her personal and family connections.
|
|
|
Rats.
Sept 11, 2008 1:42:06 GMT -5
Post by Princess Katie on Sept 11, 2008 1:42:06 GMT -5
was a touch of Dream there. She cracked one of the closest things to a real smile as she had the whole time. “You don’t say? I’m half Dream, myself. It’s weird, people like us used to be ostracized, back in the day. Now it’s just as common, especially in metropolitan areas.” She couldn’t see her or Nex or any of the Ira kids being terribly welcomed in pastorale Dreamland.
Does it do different speeds? Tch. It was a step away from driving itself. “Of course. I just wasn’t thinking earlier.” She flipped open the panel of copper sheet metal at the base of her handlebars and adjusted several knobs that were hidden underneath. She clearly knew what she was doing, though each knob was unlabeled and all of them looked relatively the same. “There we go. That should be a little less strenuous for you.” Finola pushed her goggles up on her head (no need for them if she wasn’t going so fast), and indicated for them to proceed.
“You work at the hospital?” She asked. What she really meant, though, was “They actually let you treat people with ‘healing magic’? When antibiotics were readily available?” Luckily, for courtesy’s sake, her flat tone hardly gave away her skepticism. “That must be nice. Supposedly there’s some sort of pleasant feeling one gets when they, oh, what’s the term…’do good’? I don’t hold a real job myself, though I do make things on commission once in a while, when I need money to buy equipment or a new dress or something.”
Finola nodded, “Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that I know the Royal Family pretty well. Our fathers, that is, the princes’ and princess’s and mine, are practically brothers. We were raised as cousins.”
|
|
|
Rats.
Sept 11, 2008 1:52:52 GMT -5
Post by redtopaz on Sept 11, 2008 1:52:52 GMT -5
Funny. She didn't look like she quite believed him when he said he worked at the hospital. He was starting to catch on that the word 'magic' really pothered the practical young scientist. He grinned mischievously. He'd have to taunt her about that at some point.
"It looks really complex," he said, referring to the bike. He'd bristled at her implication that he couldn't keep up, but he didn't say anything. His 'pride as a man' wasn't a very prominent part of his personality to start with, so any damage done to it was hardly worth getting prissy about. "It must have took a long time to get all those do-dads to work," he said, intending the comment as a compliment.
"It's possible to just spell a bike, or anything with wheels, really, to go faster, but I don't really know it off the top of my head," he admitted, reaching up to scratch bashfully at the back of his neck. "I can show you lots of things that you can do with magic, though!" he offered eagerly, excited about prospectively having a chance to show off his mystical finesse.
|
|
|
Rats.
Sept 12, 2008 1:32:53 GMT -5
Post by Princess Katie on Sept 12, 2008 1:32:53 GMT -5
“Weeks, months. It’s still a work in progress, actually. If you had any idea how many times I’ve shattered myself to pieces, test driving this thing…” Finola trailed off with a shake of her head. She sacrificed so much for the art of science.
She couldn’t figure out whether she wanted to laugh or to totally mock him. Was he seriously offering to teach her magic? Seriously? “Oh, that’s a, uhm, sweet offer. I just don’t think I have it in me. The whole…envoking and envisioning thing. It’s just not something I do.” There was too much imagination involved in all of that. The left side of Finola’s brain, the part with imagination and art and whimsy and emotion, was sort of frail. She could imagine all sorts of new ways to do something, to build things, but if you asked her to imagine the most fantastical creature she could think of, she’d probably just answer ‘Nicola Tesla’, and leave it at that. She didn’t even wish on her birthday candles.
|
|