emil västerström (
illequipped) wrote in
agentlelog2019-03-01 11:19 pm
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Entry tags:
open | like a B- for effort
Who: ya boy emil and you
When: now, later, etc
Where: queen's residence, around town, a farm somewhere
What: some influence jobs and a general prompt
Warnings: he may cry eventually
loren's lament
When: now, later, etc
Where: queen's residence, around town, a farm somewhere
What: some influence jobs and a general prompt
Warnings: he may cry eventually
loren's lament
[Let the record show: Emil and any kind of paperwork have never gotten along swimmingly. He barely scraped through school and has a personal vendetta against reading for work, so this? This is honestly his worst idea to date, letting himself get roped into reading for work!!! for this Loren person. What's in it for him, he mumbles mostly to himself, but he's still doing it.shock it 2 me
Like, not very well. But he's sitting behind a messy stack of papers, now mumbling mostly to himself about how "sort by severity" is completely subjective? For example, he has no vested interest in the rippling effects of recent upheavals on local businesses, but apparently a lot of people do! Wow! Amazing!
For the third time in an hour, he sighs loudly. Hi, you're here, so please give his woes your attention.]
This is dreadful. Does he really read all of these when no one else is here?
[Who READS??]
[The only reason Emil is even trying to help with the livestock problem is because... well. Honestly, it's because the thought of sad farm animals made him deeply upset and he was compelled to come help. What this means for the job, however, is that an overly-emotional tiny dude has become attached to at least one farm animal (like, a cute baby goat, probably) in between complaining about how the animals seem to want to follow him around and chew on various bits of his clothing.stylish yet irresponsible use of stipend
And then, tragedy of tragedies, his favorite baby goat goes missing and he is deeply distraught. Now, at last, he is inspired to take action.
Of course, he's terrible at Craft, so his misguided attempts to do anything resembling an electric fence keep ending with him giving himself a huge dose of static electricity. Is nothing easy?]
[Or: who blew their whole stipend on clothes instead of budgeting for food? This guy. On the one hand, he can dress like a local on a whim now! That's exciting! The clothes aren't incredibly great, but they're not terrible. He's managing.misc
He's also incredibly hungry, which is starting to get embarrassing hours and hours after breakfast. Please feed him, or at least humor him when he very abruptly begins a Casual Conversation (hint: he's bad at this one):]
How do people get jobs here? Just wondering.
[hello what do you want to do? i'm probably on board with it. you can send me a pm or pp tojojoveller with ideas or just tag wildly!! dark knights is the only job emil won't do... and for my own sake i'd like to limit job threads to 2 per job so i can handle them!! thank you
feel free to find him being terrible at magic practice or whining about morning training, etc, i am really open.]
no subject
Think about what?
[He says, out loud, immediately. Hold on.] Wait—
[HOLD... ON... Third time's the charm; he finally just shuts his mouth and looks like he's concentrating, at least. Thinking very hard for a good minute-ish here... there's still no words, but rather the mental sensation of being poked in the head.
Yes, this is definitely the magic he should know. Good call.]
no subject
Um, wow? It's not that it hurts; the sensation is just, um, wholly unexpected, which is why he flinches away before shooting Emil the Look to end all Looks. Hey!!]
Psh!
[An actual noise of warning instead of a telepathically conveyed one, but don't worry—it only takes him a second or so to settle back down, and then it's right back to the mental group chat. Was that progress? Well, yes, but still.]
Why would you do that? It's stupid! Use words.
[Which is ironic, coming from him, but whatever. Don't poke him again!!!!!]
no subject
Or: he's pleased with himself, but he tries not to look it, holding his hands up placatingly. No talking either, see! Appreciate his effort.]
...
[Well, give him another moment to get his focus back. Magic is just fine, magic is not mysterious and mildly frightening, he can Do This... But maybe he's got "things that get a reaction out of Lalli" on his mind, because the word he comes up with iiiis:]
Blueberries.
no subject
...Hmph! This is the breakthrough he's been waiting for, and yet, after making sure that Emil catches sight of his scowl, Lalli promptly speeds the heck up. Goodbye, Emil. You may stare at his back for the remainder of this journey, because Lalli is a petty baby.]
no subject
Ah, and there goes the boy. Emil doesn't even try to speed up himself; now that he can do this thing, he doesn't even need to shout after Lalli anymore. He almost does, to be fair, but wait! He can use magic instead!
It will take him a moment, again; the mental equivalent of hunt-and-pecking.]
Sorry, sorry! I couldn't resist!
[Come back here, don't be a baby. 3... 2...] How much further?
no subject
...Still! Blueberries! He's going to subject Emil to another minute or so of well-deserved silence, thanks, before he finally deigns to (telepathically) speak.]
It's not far.
[Because it's only, like, three streets up. They're there soon enough, with there being... a row of old, crumbling buildings. Homes, perhaps, but it's clear that no one has lived here in a very, very long time; everything is either broken or in the process of breaking, from the front doors, to the roofs, to the fence that's kind-of-sort-of marking the perimeter of a small, shared space. A tiny park full of nothing but dirt.
Anyway, catch Lalli standing beside the front gate to said fence, silently watching Emil approach. Is he as annoyed as he was? Not really, no, but he found a wooden fence to tear apart and he's waiting for something in particular.]
no subject
The crumbling homes aren't anything new to run across, in general, but he's a little surprised they barely had to leave the main part of the city to find them. Can't these people clean up their abandoned buildings and put up new ones...? Talk about a lack of efficient city planning, and without a horrible mutant disease to fall back on as an excuse.
But, okay: fence. He made it, he's here.]
You know, it's occurring to me now that we should have brought tools or something.
[Could they rip this apart with magic? Sure, but Emil will most definitely nail his own foot to the ground.]
no subject
Pft. It's already falling apart.
[This is true, and yet when Lalli reaches out to give one of the slats a sharp tug—hmm. So maybe the nails are in better shape than one would expect, but... he's here, in this spot he found because he's an amazing scout, and he's determined to make this work.
So it's... the wheelbarrow all over again? Just with pulling instead of pushing.]
no subject
God, look at this skinny idiot try to move basic objects. Emil watches this, and for a moment is still convinced that they might need tools, before he reaches over himself and pulls sharply, which gets him the top half of a board almost entirely un-stuck from the rest of the fence. Hmm!]
Oh. [It is truly a wonder Lalli can lift food to his mouth without collapsing under the strain, goddamn--] You could try kicking from the other side, maybe?
no subject
...Hmph. Kicking the bottom half free is halfway decent advice, he supposes, which is why he lets go of it and shrugs. Sure, fine, whatever.]
Mhm. [Over to the other side he goes, brushing right past his punk of a friend.] Start pulling more.
[How many boards will Emil loosen while Lalli is over there kicking at this first board? He's going to get it... eventually... but we all know who's the stronger person here. Pity this twig.]
no subject
Sure, sure.
[Is he going to give himself splinters doing this with his bare hands, like an idiot? Yes, for sure, but not yet. He'll at least have time to loosen a decent number of boards before one of them splits in the middle and ruins his day with a splinter. They have time yet before the universe ends from Emil's dramatics.]
I know we're going to need tools to fix the other fence.
no subject
They should have tools. [The... complainers, he means. Anyway, as he moves on to the next board—] And they should fix it.
[Yes, he's back on this point. At least he's kicking somewhat enthusiastically... this isn't the smart approach, but you know what? It's cathartic.]
no subject
[But maybe it isn't? It probably is, but he's not going to want to, not really... look at all this work they're doing now! This is practically all of it. Plus, he really knows nothing about fixing a fence.
For right now, he's way ahead of Lalli in the board department, and chugging along almost contentedly until The Splinter, at which point he ruins the relative quiet with abrupt yelping and clutching his Wound with his other hand, looking tragic. New plan: burn the fence!!]
Do you think this horrible wood is full of disease?
[Is he serious?? Yes, completely. Go on without him.]
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But maybe they won't even have to worry about that, seeing as how Emil is dying over there. What a loud noise?? It catches Lalli completely by surprise, causing him to start a bit as he looks over Emil's way to see what in the world is going on. Ah... a splinter...]
...No?
[What a silly question from a silly boy! Lalli could leave him to suffer, but—with a sigh, he temporarily abandons his fence-kicking in order to walk over Emil's way.]
Let me see. [He holds out his hand over the fence, motioning for this baby to bring that hand closer.] And be quiet.
no subject
Congratulations, Lalli is a trained medical professional now. Emil huffs as he holds his hand out, clearly not satisfied with the severe lack of injured person pity he's getting here. Where is the sympathy? The shoulder pat?]
I was quiet until this stupid, moldy old fence broke like that.
no subject
You were pulling too hard.
[Said like it's the most obvious thing in the world, right as he releases his hold on Emil's wrist. Control your STRENGTH, Emil. Jeez.]
It's not deep? Just scratch it out.
[He's pulled glass out of his arm without making a fuss about it? This is nothing???]
no subject
Anyway he's definitely not scratching the splinter out, that sounds horrible. In the grand scheme of his life this is probably the fifth or so time he's ever had a splinter, so at least he knows what they are, but everything else is covered in a spoiled rich baby haze.]
I'm not going to do that. Maybe it will come out by itself.
no subject
Mm. Maybe.
[Or maybe it will stay there forever, Lalli's doubtful tone suggests, but at least he reaches across this fence to finally give Emil's shoulder the briefest of pats. There, there, poor boy.]
Or you can use magic to pull it out. [No, wait... what is it called here again...] Craft.
no subject
But also: no way.]
Really? I'll probably rip it clean through the other side of my hand if I try doing it with magic.
no subject
Not if you focus.
[It's not something he's going to push, but it's also not something he's going to offer to take care of for him. A tiny splinter is of no concern to him, especially when he considers the, like, eight boards he has yet to start kicking. Hmm.
...Hmm. Give him a second here, please, to study the board he was kicking before the Terrible Splinter Fiasco. Empathy isn't his thing! It's hard for him to imagine how or why Emil is struggling with the magical basics, but as he remembers how easily Emil yanked that first board free after he seriously struggled with it... hey, it's a start? It flicks an incredibly small switch somewhere in that brain of his.]
You're... getting better. [He gives the board a swift kick, pretending to pay very close attention to it as he does so.] ...Maybe.
[Accidental progress is still progress.]
no subject
But he's a baby and his hand hurts, so while he's pouting over it over here, Lalli's half a compliment is... something. It's true that he's terrible at all things magic, but he did stumble his way into mind-talking about blueberries. Following this pattern, he'll rip his own fingernails clean off before he manages to deal with the splinter, but he sees and appreciates what Lalli is getting at. Kind of.
Anyway they'll be here all afternoon if Lalli is the only one dealing with the boards.]
Fine, fine. Thank you, I think. I'll try!
[......]
How do I make up a spell? [should it RHYME]
no subject
You don't. You didn't use a spell to talk.
["Talk." About blueberries, of all things, but the principle remains the same—to Lalli, who is used to spells being gigantic productions. Stop trying to make this hard!!]
Think about... that? [Another board falls free, and he looks back over at Emil.] How it felt to use magic when you really wanted to.
[Because surely he... felt the magic he was directing toward Lalli? Surely. Or is Lalli going to have to, like, grab his hand in their first magic lesson and do the classic "Focus on my magic, see how IT feels" routine...]
no subject
He's just standing there frowning at his splinter hand while he thinks about this, but that's trying, so he deserves some credit for it. Thinking about this thing he doesn't quite fully understand even after doing it-- yes, that's going great. Even grabbing his hands and slapping him with magic would be arcane and mystifying.
Give him a minute or so to stand there and concentrate, and sure enough, his hand starts slowly bleeding from the splinter spot. Goddamn it.]
Okay, ow— ew.
[He'll get it, he will!! Just keep kicking boards without him!!!]
no subject
Anyway, aside from his little spy operation, he's focused on knocking these boards out. Could he use magic to speed this process up? ...Possibly, but the more time it takes him to work his way down this fence, the more time Emil has to do his own thing over there. Surely some progress has been made by the time he's, like, two boards down (haha)... surely... it's why he's just going to openly stare at Emil and Wait for something to be said.]
no subject
So, immediately once he notices Lalli staring:] I didn't give up! I'm just tired. And my hand is bleeding, so... I'll try again later.
[He has his hands pressed together to stop the minimal amount of bleeding he accidentally caused, but it seems like the loss of half his magical stamina has taken with it his urge to keep whining that he's dying. He is not, as previously believed, dying.]
Let's just move these boards and go back to the room.
(no subject)