ℒᴀᴅʏ ℳᴇᴊᴀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfofmidgard) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-09-24 05:55 pm
wolfofmidgard) wrote in kore_logs2013-09-24 05:55 pm
Entry tags:
'Ere the world ❆
Who: Meja & you (open)
When: Day 115
What: Magic, plants, attempts at being scholarly.
Where: The community garden, or thereabouts.
Initially, she ventures out to the garden at night — magic can occupy her time when everyone is asleep. Meja brings her notebook with her, along with a blanket to ensure it stays dry and a sack full of stones. She's been writing down everything she can remember from her teachings with Fenrir, even basic rules and exercises. Magic is fickle, her teacher had informed her, and you must not give it a chance to bite.
That had mattered more when she'd been mortal, but still. It was a good thing to keep in mind, especially in terms of damaging her surroundings on accident.
She can be found at the garden in early and late morning, with her hood over her head and a collection of flat stones at her feet, a throwing dagger in hand. The Asgardian steel won't bend, won't break, and so whittling a single rune into each stone isn't difficult. Just time-consuming. A handful of stones are finished, sitting next to her notebook, but she hasn't started her experiments yet. A few more stones first. There's a light mist in the air that only goes a few feet away from the garden itself, something to give the plants a boost at the time of day that they drink the most. And every so often, her gloves glint and glow, the physical sign of the conditions she's maintaining.
When: Day 115
What: Magic, plants, attempts at being scholarly.
Where: The community garden, or thereabouts.
Initially, she ventures out to the garden at night — magic can occupy her time when everyone is asleep. Meja brings her notebook with her, along with a blanket to ensure it stays dry and a sack full of stones. She's been writing down everything she can remember from her teachings with Fenrir, even basic rules and exercises. Magic is fickle, her teacher had informed her, and you must not give it a chance to bite.
That had mattered more when she'd been mortal, but still. It was a good thing to keep in mind, especially in terms of damaging her surroundings on accident.
She can be found at the garden in early and late morning, with her hood over her head and a collection of flat stones at her feet, a throwing dagger in hand. The Asgardian steel won't bend, won't break, and so whittling a single rune into each stone isn't difficult. Just time-consuming. A handful of stones are finished, sitting next to her notebook, but she hasn't started her experiments yet. A few more stones first. There's a light mist in the air that only goes a few feet away from the garden itself, something to give the plants a boost at the time of day that they drink the most. And every so often, her gloves glint and glow, the physical sign of the conditions she's maintaining.