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

[midvalley]

NEW OPEN RP POST

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[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.

[cultivations]

Eye of the beholder.

[ he means it to sound defiant, but it falls flat even in his own ears. For another few seconds, he tries to breathe through the pain. When it dulls to a throb, he drags his gaze to Warren. ]

Whatever it is you wish to learn about my magic, you won't be able to use it. No one here can. You're physically incapable.

Save us all the trouble and let me go.