RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[midvalley]

NEW OPEN RP POST

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[spellbent]

[ He waves a hand, dismissive ] I already ate.

Are you feeling up to answering some questions? Or will I have to beat the answers out of you, too?

[cultivations]

[ Against his better judgment, he sits up carefully, a hand moving to his injured rib when it sends pain up his side. With his other hand, he wraps the blankets more tightly around himself -- he hates the cold. ]

You leave me little choice. [ Rather than sounding resigned, there's annoyance in his voice. Anger. ]

[spellbent]

[ His gaze flicks to Dorian's rib, briefly ]

Do you have the capability to heal that?

[cultivations]

[ He hesitates for a moment. ]

No, I don't. [ words sharp and clipped. ] I've many talents, but healing isn't one of them.

[spellbent]

Is that the truth?

[cultivations]

[ He smirks. ]

You could always drop your dampening field, if you're so keen to find out.

[spellbent]

I would have done, but if you can't help yourself, then that's the end of it.

[cultivations]

"Can't help myself"? As though I have no self-control?

[ he says, while an immolate spell lies in wait behind his teeth. ]

I either heal myself, or I won't. Isn't that what you're testing for, here?

[spellbent]

[ Warren simply shrugs, lifting his coffee cup to his lips with one hand and dropping the wards with the other ]

[cultivations]

[ He spares only a moment to flex his fingers, breathing in as deeply as his injury allows--

and then both palms fill with flame, and he reels back, flinging both fireballs toward Warren. ]

[spellbent]

[ A set of runes on either wall flare to life, erecting a barrier between the wizard and the mage. The flames spread over the invisible wall, but it holds. Warren slams the wards back into place with a snap of his fingers ]

Next question: how do you do that?

[cultivations]

[ When the wards come back into play, it briefly knocks the breath from him, and Dorian lets out a soft grunt. He braces his arm around his middle again, leaning back against the wall.

When he's caught his breath again, he responds dryly with, ]

Magic.

[spellbent]

I only have so much patience for your sarcasm.

Where does the magic come from? You don't use our runes, and every time I cut you off from your power you react like it's a physical blow.

[cultivations]

[ He hesitates again, reluctance written on his face. He settles at last on the short version: ]

I-- have a connection to another plane of existence. I expend energy to draw power, and when you put up these blighted wards, you effectively drain that energy from me.

Happy?

[spellbent]

[ There’s that grin again, and he grabs a notebook from the top of his pile to jot down some notes. ] Another plane of existence? Fascinating. Is that where you’re from or are you simply connected?

And if it’s the latter, where are you from?

[cultivations]

[ He finds he dislikes that smile the more he sees it, which is why he answers simply: ]

Yes.

Middle-Earth.

[spellbent]

[ Warren gives him a flat look for half a second before sketching out a quick spell- it’s not enough to throw Dorian around this time, more like the equivalent to a punch in the gut. ]

Don’t get cute with me.

[cultivations]

[ He can't help the quiet noise of pain from escaping him, and he silently curses himself for it. After a second, he grits out, ]

I'm not often called "cute." And I imagine neither are you used to calling someone such. New experiences all around. Hurrah.

[spellbent]

[ He doesn’t deign to reply to that. ]

I’m going to ask you one more time and then I start breaking bones. Where are you from?

[cultivations]

[ his lips draw into a thin line before he speaks again. ]

Minrathous. [ and because he can't help himself, ] It's a land of fairies and pixie dust and blessings of unicorns as far as the eye can see.

[spellbent]

[ Warren is nothing if not a man of his word, which is to say that he doesn’t find that answer sufficient so he casts yet another spell and promptly breaks Dorian’s wrist. ]

[cultivations]

[ Ah.

Well, then.

The shock of it is enough to rip a cry from his throat, let alone the pain, and he hunches forward, clutching his wrist to his chest.

Coherent thought? What's that? Can you eat it? ]

[spellbent]

[ For his own part, Warren merely sits back and sips his coffee as he waits for Dorian to come back to his senses. ]

[cultivations]

[ It takes him a while, but eventually it occurs to him he was attempting to be a smartass. So at long last, he pants out, ]

That-- was unnecessary.

[spellbent]

I found your little comment to be pretty unnecessary, so I guess we’re even.