[If he weren't so out of breath, he might laugh. As it is, he keeps most of what's in his lungs and focuses at least in part on skedaddling up-- well, wherever. It's not important.]
But I've already told you, Kitty. The summoning does it. Or did all the way back to the very first time it happened, if you prefer to look at it that way. But don't. I don't much care for what that implies about the dusty old bag of bones who first plucked me from the Other Place.
[You know, he'd been having fun with this a few seconds ago. But now-- the patter of his feet has slowed. The background noise across the sending crystal has faded to an inconsequential murmur. He's breathing harder than he'd like and he has a stitch in his side and a cut on his arm (copper; nothing to worry about), and the whole thing seems a little...
Lightly, all good temper and cheer:]
That's right. Technically I still have a name there. Or rather, there are pieces of Essence that are are still bound to that like a fish on a hook. But in the Other Place, it's so much less clear which parts it actually belongs to. It's all rather liberating really. Literally and figuratively, as it just so happens.
[ She feels silly as soon as she asks the question, like it's something that's obviously stupid, and she just doesn't get that it's obviously stupid. But - she's Kitty and not Kathleen any longer; why can't he change his name, too? Make it so he doesn't have to answer any longer? ]
[It's so stupid a question that it gives him actual pause.]
It's not something I choise, Kitty. I can't just say Actually, it's Albert now and put my fingers in my ears whenever a summoning comes looking for some chap called Bartimaeus.
[Or its variations. But that's clearly a complication that Kitty isn't ready to juggle yet.]
Because when I say it's my name, I mean that I belong to it and not the other way around. Mind you, there are worse options. I knew a djinni in Samaria whose name sounded an awful lot like--
[A very rude word here, but let's not record that. There might be children reading.]
I don't know if you've noticed, but what I want doesn't have much to do with my existence in worlds like yours. I can't just pick and choose. But honestly, neither can you. Your birth name has power. It's why you shouldn't just go around telling it to everyone.
I could show you, but I don't think you'd like it. Just trust me when I say that it makes you vulnerable and that you can't just wriggle out of it by sheer force of will.
Or you could just trust me. [He'll admit to being a little peevish on the delivery there. But who could blame him?] Anyway, you're not a magician. It matters less if you're not having magic slung at you or trying to poke spirits in sensitive places.
Then I suppose it's a good thing you've such a sporty nickname, eh?
[An exaggerated huff.]
Your birth name is like a magnet. Magic is drawn to it. Invoking it makes an attack that much more potent. The semantics of it would all be far too complicated for someone like yourself, but the long and the short of it is that anyone who knows it can beat your more easily and can defend themselves from anything you can do more handily. It's why magicians go to such pains to hide theirs. It's why they can bind spirits whose names they know, and why we're compelled to follow their charge.
[He pants out an appalled sound.] Of course they are. So feel free to judge any one of them who's name is especially absurd. Makepeace! What a load of--
[A clattering noise pierces through the sending crystal. It's followed immediately by...
[ At first she thinks he's censored himself. But then, after a moment, she remembers: Bartimaeus is foul-mouthed and smutty-minded. He'd never censor himself. ]
[A resounding silence answers, punctuated only by the ring of some distant bell marking the evening hour. Closer: a swelling of laughter, an indistinguishable bark of conversation underscored by the muffled sound of a fiddle. Then that too is muffled. A door opening and shutting. The sound of footsteps growing closer, then fading again.]
[ She lets loose a noise of frustration. He's screwing with her. He's obviously screwing with her. He's obviously not dead. But -
But. Why wouldn't he let her come and help? Why didn't she pester him till she knew where he was? He might be dead now. Or something. And she has no idea where he is.
So she gnaws on her knuckle, waiting, hoping he'll say something. And if not... ]
[Lucky for both of them that it doesn't come to that then.
All at once, there is the sound of something slapping against the ground very near by. A scraping. A jostling. Breathlessly and rather irritated:]
--there you are. How you people remember to hold on to anything while you're walking around is beyond me. Do you realize how useless it is being stuck with two hands? Are you still there, Kitty?
[ She all but shrieks when he starts speaking again. In her mind, she'd resigned herself to the thought that something truly dire and awful had occurred; this, therefore, constitutes a very unexpected resurrection. ]
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[ She wrinkles her nose. ]
I was born. I know I was born. How did you come into being? Have you got a...spirit mum and a spirit dad?
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But I've already told you, Kitty. The summoning does it. Or did all the way back to the very first time it happened, if you prefer to look at it that way. But don't. I don't much care for what that implies about the dusty old bag of bones who first plucked me from the Other Place.
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Lightly, all good temper and cheer:]
That's right. Technically I still have a name there. Or rather, there are pieces of Essence that are are still bound to that like a fish on a hook. But in the Other Place, it's so much less clear which parts it actually belongs to. It's all rather liberating really. Literally and figuratively, as it just so happens.
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[ It's all so weird and foreign. ]
Could you ever just - change your name?
[ She feels silly as soon as she asks the question, like it's something that's obviously stupid, and she just doesn't get that it's obviously stupid. But - she's Kitty and not Kathleen any longer; why can't he change his name, too? Make it so he doesn't have to answer any longer? ]
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It's not something I choise, Kitty. I can't just say Actually, it's Albert now and put my fingers in my ears whenever a summoning comes looking for some chap called Bartimaeus.
[Or its variations. But that's clearly a complication that Kitty isn't ready to juggle yet.]
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[ She feels very silly. ]
Why not?
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[A very rude word here, but let's not record that. There might be children reading.]
I don't know if you've noticed, but what I want doesn't have much to do with my existence in worlds like yours. I can't just pick and choose. But honestly, neither can you. Your birth name has power. It's why you shouldn't just go around telling it to everyone.
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I could show you, but I don't think you'd like it. Just trust me when I say that it makes you vulnerable and that you can't just wriggle out of it by sheer force of will.
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[An exaggerated huff.]
Your birth name is like a magnet. Magic is drawn to it. Invoking it makes an attack that much more potent. The semantics of it would all be far too complicated for someone like yourself, but the long and the short of it is that anyone who knows it can beat your more easily and can defend themselves from anything you can do more handily. It's why magicians go to such pains to hide theirs. It's why they can bind spirits whose names they know, and why we're compelled to follow their charge.
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[ Oh. ]
Fake names. The names of magicians - Mandrake and Makepeace and Tallow and all them - they're made up. Is that it?
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[A clattering noise pierces through the sending crystal. It's followed immediately by...
Well, by nothing at all.]
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Hullo?
[ With growing worry - ]
Are you all right?
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Maybe he's ignoring her in the most aggravating method possible?]
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Say something, won't you!
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But. Why wouldn't he let her come and help? Why didn't she pester him till she knew where he was? He might be dead now. Or something. And she has no idea where he is.
So she gnaws on her knuckle, waiting, hoping he'll say something. And if not... ]
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All at once, there is the sound of something slapping against the ground very near by. A scraping. A jostling. Breathlessly and rather irritated:]
--there you are. How you people remember to hold on to anything while you're walking around is beyond me. Do you realize how useless it is being stuck with two hands? Are you still there, Kitty?
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What - What is wrong with you?
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this icon is the new math meme
makes winona rider confused faces
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