Cinema Theory (Tagging Amelia)

[westfallcorndog]

 After February's movie night, a 'definitive Earth romance' of dubious quality, Amelia had left in a hurry. And her leaving wasn't close to the start of it. She'd been strange throughout the entire experience, and when she finally did escape she was out with a shout and off like a flash. Harrow had hardly had the time to say goodbye before she was out of earshot. And, come to think of it, though he didn't know her well he was sure he hadn't seen her in a very long time. Partly curious and partly worried, he decides to text her.

[Amelia are you okay? You left fast. Do you want help getting home?]

Hopefully she responds quickly, or he's going to have to go hunting for her. There's always something a little too exciting about chasing down breathers, and he greatly prefers they come to him or meet by happy coincidence, but he's not above doing it this time. After all, she might be in need of some serious assistance. 

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[westfallcorndog]

"The best offense is a good defense, right?" He laughs at his lame-ass attempt at a joke.

"I'll give you a tip, though. Magical defenses ain't really too different from physical ones. There's a way around all of 'em, and sometimes that don't even mean you gotta cast."

He looks Amelia up and down while his hands rub against his upper arms as if he were feeling the chill of the Wintery outdoors.

"You still got any energy left in ya after all that target practice? 'Cause if you want, maybe you could do a little sparrin' against magic right now? See how you feel about it?"

[rogueinladysclothing]

The offer of a spar is unexpected. On the one hand, she wants to say no. Going up against someone practiced in magic before she's' done any reading is dangerous. At the same time, Harrow seems unlikely to hurt her. On purpose, anyway. Maybe it's worth a try, then...

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow's hands rub together and he steps a few yards away from Amelia.

"Nothin' too terrible," he says. "I don't wanna scare you off or make you hate me. But... What if I conjured chains of ice around your feet?"

He poses it as if he expects her to answer, and he even gives her a few seconds to think. But then his hands work all their own, twisting and pulling at the air as if sorting through unseen papers. Just as he'd warned her, chains of pure ice weave out of the snow on the ground like snakes and twist around to trap her by the ankles. They replicate link by link at an alarming rate despite being as intricate and thick as any iron chains a metalworker could create.

There is a chance that she could dodge it, but a roll or dive would only put her closer to the snow from which these chains rise up. If they do manage to grab her they'll hold tightly, but not tightly enough to cut off circulation and certainly not enough to twist joints or break bones.

Harrow, meanwhile, watches with an honestly pleasant smile. He really is interested in seeing how she would deal with something like this.

[rogueinladysclothing]

"Chains of ice...?" Her mind is still working out the details when the links start to form around ankles. She jumps back, unsure of how the magic works, but it's of no avail. The links follow her ankles and are soon standing fast around them. "Hey, w-wait a second, I thought we were going to talk about this first...?"

The fear sets in as she tries to take a step backwards and falls on her ass into the snow. No. No, no, no this is not at all what she thought he meant. Why didn't she ask more questions? Why didn't he wait before jumping in?

Harrow can see the metaphorical wheels in her head turning now. Fuck. No. Stop. Calm down. Think before you act. Think!

Despite the panic, or perhaps because of it, Amelia grabs a specific dagger from her belt and slips the blade into the center of one of the links. Using her own ankle as a fulcrum, she strains with all of her strength to break the link open. It's ice - it should come apart from the pressure of one of her better made daggers, right? ...right?

...she's going to sprain something if it doesn't give way quickly.

[westfallcorndog]

The links are broken easily by steel. Strong though they may be, metal is still stronger. The first link assaulted shatters with a twist of the blade, but before Amelia has the opportunity to crack any more they start to pop and crack, and in a sudden, small cloud of sparkling ice they've all disenchanted themselves. The snow that once made chains around her ankles settles delicately as any snow dust would.

In quick, long strides Harrow's there by Amelia's side offering her a handless wrist to help her stand. His face is all guilt and worry and he's speaking a hundred miles an hour.

"I'm sorry! I thought you wanted a heads up and a surprise and – Sh-shoot, Amelia, I'm sorry!"

[rogueinladysclothing]

The help up is noted, but she is staying firmly planted in the snow while she shakes off the adrenaline.

"Apparently your world has a different idea of sparring than what I'm used to. What you just did would be considered an ambush in mine." Deep breaths, slow and steady. That'll help her regain her composure faster than succumbing to her anger. She carefully sheathes her dagger before hanging her head in exhaustion. Today has been a very long day.

"Perhaps we need to work out what we're both expecting before we try again sometime."

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow winces, guilty as he ever could be. At least his shame is honest, and it shows on his face and in his tones.

"We'll iron it all out, Amelia. I really am sorry. Don't let this turn you off'a learnin' magic or meetin' up with me again in the future for a duel on your terms, huh?"

Rather than try to urge her back on her feet again he crouches down so that he isn't looming quite so ominously.

"You wanna get a shot in at me? So we're even? I won't hold it against you."

[rogueinladysclothing]

A silence settles between them as Amelia fights to get a better hold on herself. Her voice is soft when she finally speaks again. "Can you just... go? I'll call you after I get Viatorus to agree to the party so we can plan that."

She doesn't look up at him, despite the fact that he's trying to get closer to her level. This is a whole new level of 'nope' for her and she'd rather be left alone to deal with it.

[westfallcorndog]

Harrow presses his lips together into a thin line that quickly cracks and becomes a frown. For a second there it hurts to be told to leave like that, but before he has a chance to open his mouth his mind catches up with his emotions. It really has been a hard day for Amelia. Romantic troubles, losing her world, a strange and sad film, and now all of this. And he hadn't been able to comfort her through any of it.

Though he knows she isn't looking at him, he nods. He nods, and he stands, and he begins to back away. His only goodbye is a softly-spoken "Good luck, Amelia..."