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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"Steve!" Harrow says as he leaps to his feet unhindered by the armor. He smiles as he waves off Steve's compliment to his armor. "What about your new digs? You look good! Casual. Easy to see. Hey, we kinda match, too." Ooh, that red, white, and blue.

He motions across the table with a sweep of his arm. "I made food. One pumpkin pie, one crumbly-topped apple pie, and some Westfall stew. It's wild boar with potatoes, carrots, and barley."

"Oh uhm, I needed something warmer. I don't handle the cold all that well." Steve gives a tiny shrug, pleasantly happy in his new winter clothes. Clothes are a lot more comfortable in the future. Also made in sizes he can wear (in the boys' department but shhh).

"I thought I was supposed to eat first." Steve says with a chuckle. "The pies look amazing, Harrow! And stew's a great idea. Will warm us up." Well, warm..Steve up. Harrow doesn't do that so much anymore.

"You got problems with bein' cold?" What a foreign concept to him these days. "You know we're doing frost magic here today, right? It might be hard for you at first, but y'know what? If you get a good handle on it, you won't ever be cold again. Just one of the perks of being a frost mage."

He pats the bench for Steve to take a seat in front of a plate, bowl, and silverware on the table. "You were supposed to eat before just in case you don't stick around long enough to really enjoy the pie and stew. I asked you to show a little earlier than Verity because I..."

Harrow clears his throat. Bringing this up isn't easy. "I wanna talk to you about some stuff that ain't real good. I kinda feel like I've been lyin' to you about some things. I wanna tell you the truth and set everything straight so you can make a decision knowin' all the facts, like a man deserves."

He takes a seat himself, his back against the bench, and waits for Steve to either give him the okay or tell him to keep his dumb mouth shut.

"Well, that's why I bundled up extra. Gloves and a hat. Even though this shirt has a hood built right in. It's super convenient. I can have two hats almost." And up the hood goes, drawstrings pulled. "See?" Steve likes to think he planned ahead properly with this one.

"...Okay? Why would I..." Steve takes his seat and looks properly confused for a moment before he falls silent. "Okay. You lied to me? What about?" He doesn't look mad yet. Mostly just confused.

"Well." He takes a deep breath, holds it in, and takes his time in sighing it out.

"I've been talkin' with some folks recently. My buddy Shade-Seeker, Verity, a nice old man on a bench. All smart people who know a lot more than me. The same subject came up each time: What kinda future is there for bad folks? It really got me thinking. Worrying. About some stuff. About the Nexus, and about my world, and..."

He pats his thighs and spends a moment thinking before he says, "A couple'a times you mentioned to me that you really don't like bullies. You talked about wantin' to go fight bad folks who hurt innocent people. You've got real good morals, and a good soul, and I ain't just sayin' that so you'll take some pity on me and stick around. I'm sayin' it 'cause you're a nice and pleasant person, and I'm... Not."

He wipes his forehead and forces a humorless laugh. "Sayin' it all like this feels so dramatic. But it's not about me. It's about you, and makin' a decision that sits right with your good-guy kinda soul. On my world I'm a huge bully of the worst, worst kind, Steve. I don't gotta be that person here, and I don't wanna be that person here, but it's still a fact, and it's still a part of me. I don't know what the bad guys on your planet are like, and I'm not gonna say I'm like them, but... If I was on your planet, I'd be the guy you'd leave Brooklyn to fight. I can't stand makin' you like me without you knowin' that. It feels like an ugly lie, and you deserve better. So... You gotta decide for yourself whether or not you could imagine bein' friends with a bully."

He doesn't face Steve while he waits to hear his reaction. He looks out across the grassy field and presses his palms against his thighs as hard as he can, but now and then his eyes flicker sideways to steal a glance at his company.

Steve is real quiet while he listens, eyebrows knit first in confusion and then in concern. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Harrow has been nothing but nice.

He's not wrong though. Steve doesn't like to see people hurting others. Abusing power.

"...What did the old man on the bench say about it?" Kind of an odd thing to focus on, but Steve thinks he knows who that is.

Harrow's eyebrows raise and he takes in another deep breath.

"He said he'd met every kind of evil man you could dream up. The kind who were confused, or desperate, or too weak to fight their own bad urges. Even the kind who plain liked the thrill of grindin' other people to dust under their boots."

"But then he said that for every sort of bad man he'd met, he'd seen one turn his life around. He thought anyone could turn their life around, if they tried hard enough. But..."

Another humorless laugh. "I get the feelin' he never had to try himself."

"This man?" Steve has pulled his sketchbook out of the big front pocket of his hoodie and flipped it open to a picture of an older blond man feeding some birds.

Steve talked to him too. It's important to know if this is correct. Even if they're not the same, he should have the same morals Steve does. Just with a whole lot more experience.

"I think he's right. I...can't pretend to know why you're in the situation you are. Maybe if we were from the same world, we would be enemies. But even that's not forever. I'm not signing up to fight a war because I hate the opposing country. Or even the soldiers fighting for it. I want to sign up because I disagree with the values of that leader and I want to put a stop to it."

Despite the heavy subject matter Harrow involuntarily smiles at the sketch of the old man whose face he recognizes. He sobers up quickly and nods. "That's the man. We spoke for a real long time, I'd recognize his face for sure." To some extent, anyway.

He's quiet for a while then as he mulls over Steve's later comments. He bites the inside of his cheek and his eyes roam in quiet thought until he finally opens his mouth.

"The old man told me that on his Earth, justice is a set of scales. On it you weigh the things a person did against the good they can do in the future. If you go to war, you're gonna meet the same sorts of evil men he met. Even if all you want is their leader, you're gonna have to get through them. You've got to decide for yourself how you wanna treat 'em when that time comes. You're gonna have to be the scales that decide how other people pay for their crimes."

"Harrow, they're not going to let me in. And even if they did? I'm one guy. I can't affect anything that much. But I'd like to do my part. Do what's right, that's all. And...all of this is pointless, because...because I don't have a home to go back to." Steve sighs heavily.

"So....why tell me this? I can't stop you from fighting in your war. Do you like what you do? I mean, you seem like a good guy. you've always been nothing but kind here. Are you trying to make me mad or? From everything you've done...all I see is a guy with an unfortunate life circumstance with a big heart trying to survive. Are you telling me the picture you drew me, everything...was that all made up?"

"I don't think your world's gone forever. But then again, I have a hard time believing things die for good." He chuckles halfheartedly and motions to himself.

"And I think your army will let you in. I think you're here for a reason. I get this feeling all of us are here for a reason. Maybe it's to learn something, or maybe it's to teach other people something. Maybe you're here to learn how to be strong so you can go back to your war and do some good, or... Maybe you're here to help other people learn how to be good. I'm not smart enough to know which."

"But I do know that nothin' I did for you or with you before was made up. I really like you as my pal, Steve. You were the first guy I met when I came over here, and it was... It was nice to have a friend like you. Someone kind. Someone that I don't feel judged me for the way I am. I guess I just... Wanted to make sure you understood what you were or weren't judgin'."

He sighs, shrugs. "I brought all this up for a lot of reasons, I guess. Everyone's been tellin' me to be honest about the bad parts of myself... Which ain't exactly easy. I feel so stupid right now. All of this feels so stupid to me. But Verity told me that if you and I keep spendin' time together, it'd only hurt more if you found any of this out and decided you didn't wanna spend your time around a bad sorta guy. Shade-Seeker and the old man, they both wanted me to realize that I can't go forward and be a better person if I only ever cover up the bad parts of myself."

"And, maybe more than that... I think I met the first people here in the Nexus who really don't like me. I got in an argument with a lady. She called me a murderer and a bully. I wanted to be mad at her, but I couldn't be. I knew she was right, and... I guess I thought about you? I thought that I'd be ashamed if you knew. But I'd be more ashamed if you found out through her or her brother. I didn't want it to happen like that. Everything kinda came together all of a sudden, and I felt like I had to tell the truth, for better or worse."

Harrow tries to force a smile that doesn't take. "Like I said, this is all stupid. I shouldn't'a even mentioned it."

He pats the table and quietly suggests, "Eat some pie."

"...You think you're a murderer and a bully..because some lady told you that?" Steve gets up form his chair, but rather than leave he walks right up to Harrowheart and pokes him in the armor.

"Anyone can change. Hell, you've got the best opportunity out of anyone because you've got more time than anyone I know has to fix whatever they don't like about themselves. Everyone got stuff they're ashamed about. I know I do. You're not gonna run away from bein' my pal that easily. If...that's all, then...I don't see a problem. I can help you work on things if you want. Otherwise, I'm happy to listen." He's not going to sit back down and enjoy that pie until they're squared up about all this.

He feels the immediate need to retaliate. Fast as he can he says, "I'm a murderer and a bully because –" And then Steve prods him. It's unexpected, to say the least. This tiny man in a hood and a hat with the nerve and the gall to poke an armored killing machine right in the chest.

His first reaction is to laugh, but not at Steve's expense. Never at Steve's expense. He looks down and his heavy huff of laughter is one of relief.

Harrow hauls himself to his feet slowly, not that any sudden moves would scare Steve. It's once he's standing that he moves in a hurry reaching out to pull Steve into a hug. It's a little tight at first before he remembers the rigidity of his armor and the softness of the Steve. He laughs and he grins, because no matter what kind of person he alleges to be on his world, this is the kind of person he can't help but be here.

"I appreciate all of it, man. More than you know," he says, smiling. A final pat to Steves back and then he's free. "And if you ever want bad guy advice? You know who to talk to. Now eat your pie, String Bean."

What a scene to walk in on. Who knows how long she's been there, leaning on the fence, watching them with a kind of dopey grin. She will not be admitting to any of this later, of course, she has a reputation to maintain.

"I can come back later if I'm interrupting." The grin has mostly been subsumed by a smirk. Mostly.

Three guesses what she's wearing, and the first two better be 'striped shirt' and 'jeans'. And for the record, that beanie of Steve's is not her fault.

He picked the beanie, she just helped...try..to..match it. Which well, resulted in either this or a wardrobe so meta the fourth wall might break beyond all reasonable doubt. Steve shouldn't be allowed to go clothes shopping by himself. He either buys cheaply made and cheap price clothes at a bargain shop, or mocks the gods of fashion with his tastes, or lack thereof.

"Harrow made us pie Verity." Steve says with a grin once the deathknight lets him go. "And stew!"

"Verity!" He's just as excited to see her as he was to hug Steve. If he's ashamed of anything she might have seen he doesn't show it.

He motions to the food that Steve pointed out and smiles proudly at the little feast. "Apple pie with a crumbly-style top, pumpkin pie for the Fall, and wild boar and barley stew. It's all classic food from Westfall, where I'm from! I guess it's kinda like your... Iowa?" Look at him, knowing states. And gee, I wonder where he learned that one.

Something sparks a memory in him and he reaches in a hurry into a small pocket sewn into the lining of his cape. Out comes a little golden ring, which he hands over to Steve. "Your surprise gift," he says, still smiling. "I won it in the corn maze that night at the ball, but somehow I forgot to give it to ya." Somehow indeed. "It's a ring of protection! Not sure what exactly it'll protect against. Probably physical pain, but who knows! You'll feel the magic when you put it on. It made me feel pretty brave! Or... That mighta been all the vodka I drank. Jury's out on that one."

She's pretty sure Harrowheart doesn't have a sense of shame when it comes to these things, and she wasn't expecting him to pretend. Anyway, nothing wrong with wanting to hug all the cute guys. That's about half the reason she learned to hug people in the first place.

"There's pie? I would not have eaten if I knew there was going to be pie." Her sweet tooth is about the size of Iowa. "Not my Iowa, I've never been there. If you got Jim to talk about the good old days and food at the same time, I'm impressed." If she'd known flirting with Jim would make it easier to help him deal with his issues, she might have reconsidered their relationship. Not for long, because ew, but briefly.

She edges around them while the magic ring is out to sit on the far side of the table, waiting for them to be done with it. "The vodka. Was there really a minotaur in the maze?"

"Thanks Harrowheart. I'll be sure to keep it safe." The words Magic and Ring have Steve a little dubious, but then again, he's here to 'learn' magic, isn't he? Please don't let this sign a pact with Satan he briefly thinks before slipping it on his thumb, to be polite. It's a bit loose though, so Steve pulls it off again and slips it into his jeans pocket.

"I'm afraid it'll fall off if we're going to be flailing our hands about trying to do magic. I'll get a chain for it maybe? And--yeah! Tell me about the corm maze. I don't even know what a minotaur is. Is it dangerous?"

"SHE," Harrowheart stresses, "Was as deadly-dangerous as she was brilliant and gorgeous. Here, I'll draw you a picture."

He goes to reach for his breast pocket before he remembers he's wearing armor. After a roll of his eyes he gets down on his hands and knees and drags out his satchel from beneath the bench. He pulls out a piece of paper and a stumpy pencil and quickly gets to work at an artistic masterpiece.

"My memory's a little hazy" he admits, "But she looked kinda like a race of folks from my world, so I think I can fill in the blanks. Her name was Aglaia, and she was a princess. She made me eat spinach, then gave me chocolate coins. All her traps were about temptations and thinkin' things through before you act. I think she really wanted me to do good, so I tried my hardest, but I coulda done a lot better if I was sober. I hope I can challenge her to a maze run again some day."

He finishes quickly and holds up the drawing of a spear-wielding cow woman in a dress for Verity and Steve to see. "Talk about a maze to get lost in, am I right?"

No. You are always wrong, Furryheart.

"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)

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Steve isn't quite short enough to be a Hobbit, or I'd have a good joke here.

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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!)