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[reshapes]

action + written + crystal

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after bartimaeus has been freed from his most terrible captivity, an unsolicited call

[rathercommon]

What's your world like, anyway?

[reshapes]

I-- [A loud bang.] What?

[rathercommon]

Oh, you know. The realm you're from. Where you stay when you're not on Earth. [ Well. ] Or here. [ Also - ] What was that noise?

[reshapes]

Don't worry about it. [But it may have something to do with why he's so eager about--] Now, imagine a place where you're very comfortable. The most at peace you've ever been. Picture it clearly in your mind and then describe it to me.

[rathercommon]

Er -

[ Kitty is not really someone who tends to be comfortable or at peace. So the question flummoxes her a bit. ]

I don't know. Under a tree or something. Why aren't you answering my question about the noise?

[reshapes]

Because I can. Now come on, Kitty! Put some thought into it! You can't just say under a tree or something. That's lazy beyond belief. Paint me a picture.

[rathercommon]

[ Ugh. She is suitably distracted, for the moment, by this request. ]

I don't know. Maybe - under a tree, in a park, after me and my friends have - finished a cricket match or something. Better?

[reshapes]

Lovely. Now take a moment and imagine all the blades of grass about you, to feel the sensation sun on your cheek and the breeze as it makes its way across this park to touch all the little leaves on the branches of your tree, and so on.

[A suitably weighty pause.]

Are you picturing it?

[rathercommon]

[ She's definitely thinking about the questions she's going to ask once he finally gets to the point. ]

Mm. Yeah. All the blades of grass.

[reshapes]

Well forget all of it, because it's nothing at all like that. In fact, it's the fundamental opposite. There is no wind, and there are no leaves on any tree, and there are no blades of grass or places where you sit in the shade of all those things. You are the tree and you are the wind and you're in your own shade-- No, hey. Let's be reasonable--

[This last part sounds distant as if he's turned away from the sending crystal, as is the mumble of something like speech that comes after from an even more distant point.]

Next question.

[rathercommon]

[ What. ]

Bartimaeus, is there someone there with you?

[reshapes]

With is a strong sentiment.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty decides to experiment with using a measured silence as an interrogation tool. ]

[reshapes]

[Which is entirely ineffectual with respect to the djinni on the other end of the sending crystal, for the record.

The company he's fallen in with entirely by circumstance, however: 'Stand still!' comes a voice, volume intensifying on that last syllable. There's a scraping sound, followed by a fwhump of something-or-other that sounds very like a scuffle resuming. From somewhere far above, Bartimaeus says,]

Oh, really? Now that's just unneces-- Ouch!

[rathercommon]

[ UGH. ]

Bartimaeus, what is happening?

[reshapes]

If you must know-- [a sudden choked noise of horror, followed by a great thump] --you've caught me in the middle of a small disagreement.

[rathercommon]

Are you fighting someone right now?

[reshapes]

Why, is that what it sounds like?

[rathercommon]

Yes.

[reshapes]

Well, hey! You do know a thing or two after all.

[Another decisive sound of impact, a small moan of distant agony, and then closer: a tender little inhale of breath.] Oof. That smarts. --Now where were we?

[rathercommon]

Do you - Do you need help?

[reshapes]

Excuse me?

[Sounding as if she's personally done the offense of putting the knife in him. A knife in him. A purely hypothetical verging on the metaphorical knife.]

[rathercommon]

I said d'you need help. Don't sound like I'm some madwoman for offering, that's the offer you make when someone's in a fight.

[reshapes]

[???????????? No it absolutely is not???? Sure, you might stand on the sidelines and get some good heckling in, but helping? Don't be absurd.]

Nevermind that. Is there something you need, or is this just a particularly ill-timed version of twenty questions?

[rathercommon]

A perfectly well-timed twenty questions. It's not my fault you decided to get violent while I wanted to learn things.