westfallcorndog | Magic Lessons for Steve and Verity

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Magic Lessons for Steve and Verity

At the truly, rudely, ridiculously early hour of 3:30 in the morning Harrowheart sent the following texts:

To Steve:

"Steve; Borrowed a phone to let you know we will meet in 11 and 1/2 hours for magic lessons. Eat lunch first but there will be food. See you then! – Harrow"

To Verity:
"Verity; Borrowed a phone to let you know we will meet in 12 hours for magic lessons. Eat lunch first but there will be food. See you then! – Harrow"
A quick follow-up text reads: "Do not text this number back. Tell that Steve person the same thing."

The texts each accompany a photo of a hand-drawn map with instructions to a place on the far, far outskirts of the Parklands.

* * *

Eleven and a half hours later, Harrowheart is exactly where he said he'd be. The destination is a large area of tall grass surrounded on all sides by woodland that remains leafy despite whatever season it may be on other worlds. The whole area is surrounded by a wooden fence of aged split logs. On one side, nearest the path that leads up to the clearance, is an old picnic bench. Laid out on the table are two thick quilts, two pies under glass covers, a sizable trunk, and one lidded black cauldron sitting above a candle that keeps it warm.

Sitting there at the seat of the bench is Harrowheart. He's dressed much differently today than usual, all done up in a heavy-looking suit of blue armor with a red cape on his back that flows down between his spread legs. His hands are attached to his wrists inside a set of gauntlets. A pair of icy blue axes sit against the bench at awkward angles, their handles attached to the belt of his outfit. He pats his thighs anxiously and often looks to the pathway while he waits for Steve to show up.

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"Spinach, huh? Poor thing." He's not really getting any sympathy from her. She likes spinach. And don't think she's missed the lack of vegetables. Then again, given how Steve's been eating on his own... he can probably live with it.

Verity leans forward slightly to watch him draw, and the finished piece gets a raised eyebrow. (So basically, it's a thing she's reacting to.) "Huh. She looks like fun."

What? Her bestie may have given birth to an eight-legged horse, and she's from a world that was repeatedly invaded by aliens. She has interesting views on personhood.

"..Wh...why does she have human..." Cleavage? Anatomy of any sort? "..uhm..chest..areas? I don't think that's anatomically correct for how they feed their young..." That's not a real thing. Harrowheart was drunk that must have been a costume. He seems serious though, so Steve doesn't want to hurt his feelings.

"I..I hope you had fun in the maze though." Best to stick to the safer topic.

Harrow looks at his picture again, confused and slightly shocked that Steve would even question the anatomy of his art. "So, uh. I'll level with you here: I actually don't remember if she had boobies at all? But something in me wants to believe."

He laughs and claps his gloved hand on Steve's shoulder. "But don't tell me you've never seen an animal person before, dude! I'm from a race of animal people, you know? I'd show you my other form, but Verity told me you'll have an asthma attack and die, and I don't want that happenin' 'cause I already promised no necromancy today."

"But... Speakin' of things Verity said, I think there was somethin' about a phone?" Subtle side-eye. Did she bring one? He's smiling very slightly because he can't contain his excitement.

Oh, Steve. Maybe someday you'll learn not to ask these questions. Verity's of no help because she has no opinions about minotaur anatomy, and because she's giggling.

Just giggling. Right up until Harrowheart tries to throw her under the bus again. "Hey, no, I said scaring him would be bad. Whether or not he wants to see you shapeshift is entirely up to him."

There's a long look here to make sure he understood that point before she pulls a phone out of her bag. A nice, reasonably simple one that's small enough to hide in an emergency. "Here. You'll need to find a place to charge it when the battery runs low, but there's plenty of places to do that in the commercial district."

"Other..form?" Poor Steve looks ten kinds of confused and at least two kinds of does not want. He doesn't understand what's going on here anymore. Just at all. He can go over here now and sit back in his seat. Let Verity distract from all the confusion with new technology for everyone.

At least the pie looks normal. No spider legs sticking out of it or anything. just roll with it Steve. Act like you know what's going on. It will become one of your many life skills.

Harrow refrains from being a Rude McGrabbyhands about the phone, but he does take it with excitement and gusto. He looks it over, sniffs it, decides it is good, and delicately sets it in his side satchel. It is a fitting tribute. Tonight he will feast well on the light of the Internet. But now? Now it's time to learn magic.

"You two hurry up and eat some pie and stew. I've got a couple of ground rules to set for these magic lessons, and then we're starting."

He stands before the bench and faces his two favorite breathers.

"The first rule is that if you get tired? Thirsty, hungry, cold? Out of breath, anything? You gotta tell me. This ain't boot camp. We're gonna take it seriously, but I don't want you two collapsin' dead or gettin' hurt. I don't have the same physical boundaries as you two, which means you gotta be honest with me when you need a break, 'cause I might not realize."

He frowns then, rolls his eyes. After a few sighs to jog his brain, he's ready to continue.

"The second rule is: There's three people in the Nexus you can't share what you learn with. A woman named Isidor, her brother, Viatorus, and whoever their bodyguard is. Normally I don't hold grudges, but those two insulted me, my magic, and poor folks everywhere. I asked 'em for some payment for my lessons and Isidor tried to trick me outta payin'. Then she went on some spiel about how her family's wealthy and successful. I told her I didn't have any respect for rich folks who try to swindle poor folks outta payment for their work, and she went on a rant about–" Heavy airquotes incoming, "~Makin' peasants' dreams come true~ by havin' 'em toil away for her family. She called me a murderer and a bully, and I mighta called her brother a little honorless weasel."

Talk about other people going on rants, Harrowheart...

He clears his throat and shakes his head. "I don't care if you two are friends with 'em, but I don't trust those two one lick. I don't wanna find out they learned my magic without showin' me an ounce of respect. And Steve? Remember that dreamfoil tea I gave ya? Don't let Viatorus have it. Throw it out for all I care, but I don't think he'll do good things with it."

Edited 2015-11-26 14:49 (UTC)

Verity will help herself to small servings of both. Wild boar stew brings back happy memories for her, and pie is always a good thing. She'll make sure Steve has some too. Boy needs to eat.

The first rule gets a nod. That one makes sense, and Samus has similar rules for their training. Plus, Verity's generally a sensible girl. Aside from her choices of friends. But, speaking of her friends... mention if Isidor gets a tired 'I know, right?' kind of sigh from her. Naming Viatorus gets a narrow-eyed look that starts as suspicion and could easily devolve.

It's just not a good idea to talk about her friends like that.

"I can fully believe Isidor was a total bitch to you, but Viatorus is one of the nicest people ever born. He is not honorless, or a weasel." She takes a breath and then admits, "He doesn't make great first impressions."

"I'll do my best, but I don't think I'll be up for teaching anyone how t'do anything I learn here until I'm you know, not gonna hurt anyone accidentally." Hell, Steve doesn't even think he can do that.

"Wait, was that the super patronizing woman who came in the other day? I'm sure she..meant well...in her own...high brow kinda way. Those folks live a different life and don't know better. She wanted me to teach her brother how t'draw better. I don't think he needs a teacher. Honestly, I just wished he'd stand up for himself. He lets her kick him around more than he should."

"I thought so too, Steve. Kid needs someone cool to hang out with. That was half the reason I was offering magic lessons in the first place. Except... Idunno, it mighta been hard. Every time I looked at him I got this overwhelming urge to shove him in a locker and take his lunch money..." Harrow rubs his chin in thought over that one before he finally shrugs. It's a mystery nobody will ever solve!!

He steps back rubbing his hands.

"So about this magic stuff. Since you two come from a world without magic, or maybe only mostly without magic, I figured I'd start from the very start. I went and asked a mage on my world where people get their magical abilities from, and he told me there's three basic sources. The first is magic that's in you all along. Some folks are born with the hidden ability to channel magic, and usually it comes out one way or another in their lives. The second is magic that comes from knowledge you gain, like words from a book or lessons from a death knight. The third kind is magic that comes from an object, like..."

Harrow tosses open the chest and retrieves two wands! One of them is a long, dark stick with a blue crystal cluster at the top that looks more like rock candy than anything magical. The other is a silver rod with a golden star at the end. Tiny sparkles of light rain down from the tips of the star whenever the wand is moved.

He holds out the two wands and says, "Like these! Magic wands! There's pointy hats in the trunk too, if you want, but mostly they're for show. These wands, though, they've got magic in 'em. Each of you pick whichever wand you want. Then I want you to point 'em at a tree or a post and shake 'em around, slash the air like you'd use a sword. See if you can coax some magic out of 'em. They're both ice wands, so they'll probably be frost bolts or snowflakes, if anything. Using a wand is a good way to find out if you got some natural magical talent. If the wand works, then you do! If it doesn't, well... That doesn't mean you can't learn. Just means you might have to work a little harder."

Edited 2015-11-28 00:55 (UTC)

Ooooohkay, just ignore her, make assumptions, that's fine. If he were paying attention, Harrowheart might notice how it's getting filed away somewhere in her head. But she's still laying attention.

She's taking the blue wand because fuck gender stereotypes, and she is no good witch. Steve can have fun with the sparkly star. But for all she's quick to claim a wand, she's not quick to use it. She holds it lightly, turning it over in her hands, putting it down from time to time as if making sure she can. She looks a little afraid of it.

"Please don't kill the trees, Steve. They don't deserve that."

Aww, Verity. The whole gender stereotype thing is fine and all but could you have left Steve with a girlier option? Well, it could be pink. Still he picks up his wand and gives Verity a raised eyebrow and a little wiggle of the wand, though not in her direction.

"So, are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Because what's the fun of having a prop if you don't make references?

To Harrowheart, Steve raises his free hand meekly, in question.

"Uhm, so do we have to focus on snow or just swing them?"

Harrow frowns lightly at Verity's comment. He looks up to the trees, then back to his friends, a guiltier look on his face now than when he spoke poorly of dear Viatorus.

"I guess I thought the trees weren't real," he says quietly. "Guess I never thought they were here from other worlds like all of us. Let's just aim for the fence posts, then. Or at me. I can take it."

He sidles up next to Steve and inspects his wand, then glances at Verity's with a thoughtful frown. "Hate to say it, kids, but I never used one of these. I can't. I'm kind of a magical creature myself, it doesn't really work for us. The mage I bought 'em from said you gotta think of it like you're tossin' a ball. Envision something comin' out the end of the wand. Stretch your arm back, envision the spell comin' out, and throw!"

Edited (oops it sent when the tag was halfway done) 2015-11-28 15:31 (UTC)

Fuck gender norms, Steve. It's not like it would work better for her just because she's got bigger tits. "Bad witch, definitely. They have better shoes."

The fact Harrowheart can feel guilty about the trees only strengthens her resolve to help Viatorus fix things. Not so much Isidor. "Any one of these trees could be Groot's cousin. Knowing him makes being an environmentalist easy."

She's not going to be aiming anything at him and she doubts Steve will either. But she will be picking up her wand with a firmer grip finally and turning to aim at a fence post. Arm up, swing down, and pretend. She's not great at pretending. Or at hoping for much. Getting a few snowflakes would have pleased her; she certainly hadn't expected to actually freeze anything, but that's what she gets for not chasing down Grandpa Willis' secrets when she had a chance.

If Steve really wants to switch wands he could totally take hers right now, she's too shocked to stop him.

Steve's too busy gaping like a loon. He hadn't thought this would work either, but watching a burst of ice rocket out of the end of the wand makes him jump about a foot and drop his own in the process.

"Whoa! Whoaa! Y..you did it Verity!"

"Verity!" Harrow shouts. He hurries over, cape flowing behind, and invites himself to hug her while he laughs. He steps away quickly and holds her at arm's length with his hands on her shoulders.

"You did it! Your first time! Your friend who said you can do magic wasn't wrong, you got it in you! So how's it feel? Got any insight for the rest of us?"

Whoa, surprise hug! By definition, she was not expecting that. She blinks up at Harrowheart while he's laughing and she's still trying to process what just happened.

"I... I don't know. I wasn't expecting anything to happen."

"Still, that's something else! Way to go." Steve bends down to scoop his own wand up again and stare at the end of it for a long moment. Like throwing a ball. He can do that. He and Bucky used to play catch in the alleys all the time when they were younger.

He'll pick a post for a target and give the wand a swing. There's the tiniest glitter and a few small snowflakes flutter out the end of the wand and drift down, but nothing else happens.

"..Aw."

A hard break for Steve. He at least earns himself a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, man. Both of you get to keep the wands. They're not exactly powerful, but you can practice all you want in your free time. Like I said before, wands are just one way of realizing your potential. What we're really gonna work on is doing magic with your hands and body." That sentence should have to come with some romantic jazz. It's a good thing Harrowheart hasn't learned about stereos yet.

He steps backwards and looks between Verity (the winner) and Steve (the Steve.)

"We're gonna do a couple of mindfulness exercises here, and then we're gonna see if you can use that mindfulness to channel some magic. When you two are both ready, I want you to close your eyes. When you've got 'em closed I want you to imagine – or remember – being cold. Cold, and it feels like there's no way around it. Whatever that means to you, I want you to picture it as clear as you can. Think about how it felt physically and emotionally. And don't open your eyes. Not yet."

Edited 2015-11-30 16:34 (UTC)

Verity watches Steve, her expression barely shifting in the face of his disappointment. "Hey. Magic's been in my life since I was a baby. I'm just more used to it, that's all." True or not, he needs the confidence boost if this is going to work.

"Thank you, Harrowheart." Another something to hide from her host. This is getting complicated. What isn't complicated is that anyone who thinks too much about her hands and body is likely to be disappointed.

Cold is no stranger to Verity Willis and she has no trouble remembering what it feels like. New York can be damn cold in the winter with the streets turning into iced-over wind tunnels, with the sun distant and rarely glimpsed between buildings of steel and glass that might as well have been ice, with snow banks so deep that cars get lost...

But the painful cold is the loneliness. The empty places and jagged edges in her heart where none dare enter. The father who left because she was the living reminder of his failing her, the mother who rightfully blamed her for the end of a marriage. A lifetime of isolating herself until one good friend shook her up and made her see that so much more was possible, but who left her to--

She'd better put that wand down before she hurts somebody.

"No, I can do it." Steve gives Verity a small smile. "It's not worth doing if it's too easy, right? I'll try more." But maybe not this second. Harrowheart wants to move on to more hands on skills.

Cold?

Cold like when they's run home from the art classes, shaking so bad Steve thought he'd be sick because he couldn't stop shivering. When breathing stings the lungs and hurts down to your core and any exposed skin feels like it's being jabbed with needles.

Cold.

Verity told him once. He and Bucky went down together. Into the ice. Could he even imagine that? That same needle jabbing over his whole body, both of them shaking so bad, struggling to breathe while they sink into the darkness. And when he breathes in it's water. Freezing water and his lungs are burning, freezing from the inside out.

Steve whimpers, crouching down on the ground and wrapping his arms around himself tightly. It must have been so lonely, so terrifying, so painful....How could anyone be sane after living through that? He needs a blanket, needs his inhaler. Something. It hurts and he Can't. Stop. Shivering.

Looking at Verity is enough to make him frown. She's feeling things he doesn't know but thinks he understands. There's bitterness and loneliness in her expression that he hadn't expected to see from her. For a moment he thinks he ought to stop...

But who ever said magic would be easy?

He digs his heavy plate boots into the ground and braces himself for the magic he's about to conjure. One hand in the air to channel, the other at his side to guide the swirling tempest of biting winter wind as bitter as Verity's memories.

The ice gusts hardly cycle twice around him before he notices Steve suddenly crouches down, and for a second more he's torn. Steve hasn't told him to stop, and those were the rules. We stop when someone asks. He'd hate to cut it short this early, hate to treat him like a child...

But magic doesn't need to be this hard. The icy wind that accompanies their memories stops as soon as he reaches back to unclip the cape from his back. Sure, there are perfectly serviceable quilts right there on the table, but there's something empowering about wearing a cape. Harrow steps forward and clips it around Steve's neck, then swings the bulk of it around to drape over him like a poncho. It's about as heavy as a piece of clothing can be, but it traps the heat extremely well.

"Open your eyes, you two," he says in a hurry. He pats Steve worriedly and looks up to Verity for advice. What does he know about fixing frozen humans? Unfreezing the living is the opposite of his job description.

Edited 2015-11-30 22:59 (UTC)

The biting wind Harrowheart's conjuring makes Verity flinch away, and she's vaguely aware of the sounds Steve is making, but she doesn't stop until Harrowheart speaks up. She blinks, looks around, and doesn't even need that prompting look from Harrowheart when she sees Steve. She moves fast when she's got a good reason, and this is a good reason. First, she rests a hand on Steve's shoulder as she sinks onto the ground in front of him. A physical reminder that she's there. Second, she wraps her arms around him and draws him into her lap. Third, she offers quiet reassurances.

"It's okay, Steve. It's okay. You're safe, you're with friends, it's okay now. Listen to me, Steve. I'm here. Harrowheart is here. Wherever you went in your head, that wasn't real. That wasn't now. We're safe. You're okay." She can keep that up forever if necessary, but she hopes it isn't.

"...!" Steve opens his mouth and makes a choking sort of noise, but no real sound escapes. His eyes are wide and for a moment unseeing. Just the dead stare of the Winter Soldier. The eyes he has nightmares about, asking him why. Why didn't he do something? Why did you abandon him, Steve?

Why?

"...Nnngh! Nnn.." It's not cold. He's warm, wrapped in something heavy. There's body warmth all around him, and familiar voices calling out. The world comes back into focus and Steve seems surprised to be sitting in verity's lap, with Harrowheart's cape around him and both peering down at him. his cheeks flush uncontrollably with shame and he scrambles to get to his feet. Weak. Always so...

"...S...sorry. Uhm. A..about that."

The look in Steve's eyes for a moment there are too familiar to him. Steve said he'd never been to war, and yet?...

Life in Brooklyn must be hard.

Harrow presses his hands heavily against Steve's shoulders to push him back down to a seated position with Verity. "Don't stand. And don't apologize." His tone is a little harsher than perhaps he means it to be, but the residual worry in his system is just enough to make him terse.

Unsure of what he ought to do, Harrowheart chooses to ladle a bowl of warm soup for Steve, if not to drink then at least to hold. Something good to distract him with. He offers it when he takes a seat himself, unhindered by his armor.

It's hard to look at his friends knowing he's the source of this discomfort, even obliquely. Harrow focuses on the grass, eyebrows lowered.

"It's different in the Nexus, huh? Imagining things. You both looked... So intense..."

He hesitantly puts a hand on Steve's shoulder again, this time without so much pressure.

"You should talk about it. Both of you. If. If you want. That is."

There are wars against others, and wars against the self. They all leave scars.

Verity doesn't try to force Steve to stay down, but when Harrow pushes she slides an arm around Steve again. She can be strong and supportive for him physically as well as emotionally. It's friendly, comfortable, all gin and platonic. Nothing to get upset about.

"Changing circumstances make old defenses weak. The shock of coming here, of being confronted with so many possibilities and futures when everything used to be so certain... nobody gets out unchanged." Her tone is patient and gentle. "It's nothing to apologize about. We all go through it, then help other people go through it."

She shifts her hand down from Steve's shoulder when Harrow wants in on this comforting action. Steve's not so tiny they can't both pet him. "If this is turning into a group therapy session, I guess I have to go first, on account of having done this before." Sigh.

"I've spent most of my life alone. Being the girl who couldn't play, who didn't understand games or stories, who argued with every authority figure... well. I wasn't popular. The only person who knew anything about my curse left when I was seven. Most of my life, nobody really believed it was a curse. I didn't get rate pity. I was just... odd, and easily forgotten. I never blamed them. I know I'm not a good person."

ILU for the pic <3

I really need a NOPE face for Steve

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the longest post ever omg (ALSO HAPPY THANKSGIVING!)

Eh, I've seen longer. :P Also yes happy Thanksgiving and turkey day!

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http://bit.ly/1MOddUK

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Btw you two feel free to break posting order at any time if it feels most natural!

Sorry for the feels :(

Maybe this isn't the best idea for these two...

P-pain is... weakness leaving the body? 8(

This isn't what Harrowheart signed up for is it?

Warning: Mage training done by professionals. Do not try at home.

http://i.imgur.com/kobbssm.png

Pretty much.