agentlelog | The Lone Wolf Dies

Who: Jon Snow
When: After the chaotic events
Where: Around Draega
What: Influence Prompts - Shock It To Me, Dark Knights
Warnings: TBD

Shock It To Me:

He was still new to Craft and even his more successful attempts hadn't come without a struggle. He still wasn't sure how he had broken the shields at the power plant, but it had given him enough confidence to at least volunteer for setting up another barrier, interested at least to see if he could recreate that power. Unfortunately, it always seemed to falter. Just as he seemed to create sparks similar to electricity, it backfired and shocked him instead.

"Fat lot of good those instructions do," he muttered under his breath, shaking his hand to try to bring some of the feeling back. There were miles he'd have to cover, yet he couldn't even manage this small patch of land. It was almost like dealing with the Night's Watch again, given a difficult task and always putting him in a foul mood.

There were at least others, but their results seemed to be the same. "No luck?"

Dark Knights:

With the city not bothering to offer protection, Jon returned to what he knew from his days in the Night's Watch. He had Longclaw, but using his weapon in a city more dependent on magic seemed like an unfair fight, bruising his honor, though he couldn't exactly explain why. He left the sword behind, determined to at least get a handle on his jewel, even if it seemed impossible.

Not many were on the streets during the night, and so far, he hadn't seen anyone lurking. At least, not anything to make him thing that violence was imminent. Which was why it caught him by surprise when he finally did hear a scuffle down a nearby alley. He raced towards the noise, arriving at the same time as someone else, able to spot a landen being knocked back against the building wall by a Blood.

"Do you know how to make a shield?" He shouted at the figure next to him.

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"No-" And, of course, that's the cue for her magic to backfire. The orb she's gathered in her hands opts to fizzle out, shocking the tips of her fingers in the process. She winces at the pain and gently shakes out one of her hands, trying to get the sharp sensations to go away. "No luck.

"Conjuring isn't a field I'm familiar with. So I am struggling a bit with this task." She tries to shift the attention away from her, more interested in seeing the state of others. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Given how sharp the pricks of pain are when the spell fails, Zita does worry that, sooner or later, someone is going to get hurt by it. She may not be good at conjuring but healing? That she has no issues with.

"The instructions they gave us aren't much use." Either they were wrong or Jon wasn't making sense of it. Both were equally likely, though he didn't want to attribute it to his own failings. He had enough frustration to add to it on that score.

"Neither am I." Or just with any of this. "No. Only a few shocks. It tends to numb the fingers." He clenched his hand into a fist once, twice and then released. There was at least still feeling there. If it disappeared, he would be more concerned.

"What about you? Are you hurt?"

Much as Zita wants to argue about it but she tells herself she needs to trust someone's answer.

She is surprised at the question being returned to her. Visibly so at her looking at him, blinking for a bit as if to make sure she heard him correctly. (Is she not used to others showing concern about her...? Strange.)

"I'll live. I'm used to backfire thank to my past experience with spells and potions." In fact: "This is much more forgiving than the type I'm used to back home. When we were starting this, I was, admittedly, terrified at the idea of getting this wrong since we're dealing with electricity."

Wounds received from conjuring electricity didn't fall under fire injuries exactly. Doesn't make the experience any better.

It doesn't occur to him that she might not be used to someone asking her if she was all right. The idea that someone could be that callous and overlook her injuries was ridiculous, especially as they were in this together, working almost in tandem (and failing in tandem as well).

"You had magic before?" That was useful to know, though not very comforting to hear that she often had blow back. "I always thought that those who had this in their world would be better at it." Better than him at least.

"I didn't know what that was until coming here." Magic or electricity. "I thought that might cause problems for me managing this, but maybe it's the instructions?"

She smiles at the observation, nodding in agreement. "I thought so too. It's why I agreed to help with this. Perhaps it's because I focused more on the fields of healing and warding almost exclusively during my more informative years."

A specialization in something can mean weakness in other things, as one of the scrolls she once studied informed her. Maybe that's the case here.

However, Zita doesn't think she would be this bad. From a mixture of pride and from the fact you'd think luck alone would allow one of them to successfully conjure something. Hmm...

From her cloak, Zita pulls out the notebook she had purchased some days ago. She's been using it to jot random notes and reminders to herself in order to keep track of things. Flipping through the pages, she continues to speak: "Perhaps you're onto something. What were the instructions you were told? Perhaps we can compare notes and see if they're similar or different."

He doesn't know why, but he likes that was where her magic focus was. There was a use for these powers in saving others and in combat, but healing seemed more...gentle. When confronted with magic in Westeros, it seemed to be destructive. Her use was refreshing and kind. "You put it to good use."

It's possible it was a weakness, but there was a chance that the magic itself was difficult to manage here. It didn't seem like those that had Craft in their world used stones like these. It could likely be a translation error, trying to use their powers as they might have in their world?

He pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket, offering it to her. "I wrote them down." They were the basic instructions offered by the man that sent them here, though they were so vague they could have been anything. "He suggested using adrenaline."

Zita thanks him as she takes the paper, comparing them.

"I was suggested that too when being instructed on how to use the Craft's conjuring but..." Her lips thin, needing some time to find a polite way to say her thoughts. She knows the Craft is different than her world's Raw Magic. It would be presumptuous of her to assume their way of doing this is wrong. It's worked for the natives of this world for so long, after all.

Still- "Adrenaline, while giving a boost of energy, isn't the most reliable source of power." More so if you're trying to keep it in a contained form, like what they're attempting here. "I prefer using a mixture of concentration and visualisation, trying to build it up instead of summoning it all at once. Perhaps trying that wouldn't hurt."

The worst that could happen to them is that they got shocked again.

Given how little he knew, it was a relief to hear someone offer an alternative means of summoning the electricity. Never mind that she was shocked in similar ways to him, it was the idea there was another way of creating the power. Adrenaline might seem like a good suggestion, but he knew how easily that was spent and could cause problems, if only to his body.

"What do you visualize?" He asked, looking down at his hands as he tried to feel something, not just the numbness from being shocked but some sort of power that he supposedly had. He felt it once before, but since...it was like trying to light a candle with his mind.

She thinks about her answer. So used to simply using her magic without having to think about the motions and the steps that come with it, Zita realises that it's difficult to put this into words when speaking to someone new.

But- She tries all the same. "I try to visualise the gathering of the energy. Flickers of electricity and heat slowly drifting into the centre of my palm. The feel of heat b brushing against my skin as it forms into a ball. A certain change in the air as the new shape floats and glows in my hold." It's important to think of not only the end result but how to create the result in the first place. All things came from somewhere, as someone once told her in her younger years.

"If you want- I can do a demonstration of it? To show how it looks like?" Might as well put her words to the test.

The Lone Wolf Dies

( shock it to me. )

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