[PRP] The key to success (Shiloh & Liam)

[Melancholies]

Shiloh had never actually been inside of the Shore house. Actually, he'd never actually been to the Shore house, and he knew little about its existence apart from the mysterious disappearance that had occurred in his old world. It was slightly unsettling to say the least.

But still. Liam had offered to help him with magitech—whatever that actually entailed—and he was more than willing to take him up on that. Anything to get stronger, right? Learning skills to protect himself was important too, since he was a staple of reality or whatever now. Hell, maybe he'd have something he could take back to Jamie, or maybe he could talk Jamie into giving Liam a try too. It was better than using his powers in absolute ignorance.

Shuffling on his feet (he was biding his time, somewhat nervous, mostly awkward), he finally gave the door a few solid knocks after some deliberation.

Silverah

a start 4 u

 

[Silverah]

The Shore House was, in the style of the region, a gorgeous old Second Empire-style house with three floors and an honest-to-god turret. It appeared to have been recently repainted - a soft, foggy sort of gray, with white trim and a dark slate roof.

The double doors - dark wood - were inset with leaded-glass windows with a floral motif, the individual panels breaking the foyer beyond into tiny refractions of itself. A moment after Shiloh's knock, there was a flash of movement on the foyer, someone stepping smoothly down the stairs and into the foyer--

And then Liam Noor opened the door. He was wearing a purple turtleneck. Grey wool slacks. Argyle socks that contrasted the oriental rug beneath his feet. He smiled down at Shiloh, his expression warm.

Paternal, even.

He leaned out, evaluated the snow falling on the landscaping, and said, "Please, Monsieur Beaumont. Come in."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh found himself distracted with the snowfall while he waited, hands stuffed into the pockets of his thick jacket. The door opened, he jumped (or didn't, because he'd deny it), and found himself staring up at Liam with all of his turtlenecked glory.

What he said broke any remaining tension, however, and he had to stifle a laugh. "Monsieur? Somehow that's almost worse than my fetch calling me Lord." But he seemed amused regardless as he walked in, immediately taking in the sights of the house and all the old architecture. He took his shoes off by the door—that was how manners worked right? The rug was probably worth more than him, anyway.

"Sorry for dropping in like this, but I thought about what you said." He turned to face him, "About the magitech and all of that stuff. Uh, magic in general actually... It sounds really useful, so..." he trailed off. It was pretty evident that he was bad about asking for things, more so from anyone remotely close to a teacher role. He just never had any good experiences with them before. "I promise I'll take real good notes 'n s**t if that's what it takes." He said in absolute earnest.

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

"Fetches," said Liam, and laughed huskily. He closed the door behind Shiloh and ushered him through into the parlor. The furniture looked like it must have been as old as the house, painstakingly maintained and restored over time.

Liam took a seat in a red velvet wing-backed armchair and indicated the sofa. "Go ahead and have a seat," he said. "I'll have the house elves make us some cocoa."

He said this with such a straight face that it was impossible to know if there actually were house elves, or if he was joking.

"I'd be happy to tutor you," he added, folding his hands in his lap. "Should we just start with the introductory material?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"I mean, I'm just saying." It felt sort of nice to joke about the whole Noble thing, even if it was sort of heavy to make light of. Still, he was what he was. The comment about the house elves was slightly concerning, because given the state of magic, there was a high possibility that they were, in fact, alive and well.

Still, it'd be worth it for some hot cocoa.

He jumped up on the sofa, wiggling around a little bit to situate himself after the initial bounce. Rug might have been worth more than him, but apparently not as much as the sofa with the way he bounded up on it. "That's prolly the best. I mean, if I'm doin' really swell we can always move on." He copied Liam, hands folding in his own lap, attention undivided. It took a lot of effort. "'Specially cause I dunno where to really begin. Like, I can do magic, I got lots of it, but..." He looked at his hands and shrugged.

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

"But magical potential won't get you very far if you don't know how to apply it," supplied Liam, picking Shiloh's train of thought up where he'd left it. "My personal specialty is magical security. Shields. Wards. Cages. And how to apply those concepts to digital technology."

He'd written several books on the subject. In several timelines.

With a shuffling of slippers against carpet, Sunny appeared through the doorway from the dining room, a pair of mugs balanced in her left hand. "Hiya, Shiloh," she said, holding one out to him (it was black, with a print of Russian nesting dolls around the side). "I gave you extra mini marshmallows."

There was an honest to god mountain of them.

"I'm not a house elf, papa," she admonished Liam, handing him the other mug (green, circuitry print) and leaving the room again.

"So," said Liam. "Shields. Containment magic. Or we can talk about the Court of the Sorrowful One. I know where they keep the dirty laundry."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

He nodded. Liam got him. The sight of Sunny actually made him perk up, and he took the cocoa with renewed vigor. "Hey, thanks man. You're totally not an elf though." He shot Liam a dirty look, but it was all in jest as it faded rather quickly. Where the hell was he even supposed to start with all these ******** marshmallows?

He'd figure it out once it cooled enough to actually drink.

"Whoa, you actually know stuff about Court?" He seemed rather intent on the subject, actually. "I mean, shields and containment stuff sounds really useful and like, relevant, but..."

He thought about how he ran into Melany again, as someone completely different.

"Honestly, when I was made into a noble with the others, we weren't really told much." He frowned a little, "Pax was there and it... told us what we were now and that was it. Like, I dunno what I'm supposed to be doing or anything or why the hierarchy's all messed up in the first place." He tested the cocoa with a tiny sip, "Course, I guess that might be different now in this world..."

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

Liam nodded, and blew on his cocoa. "It could be," he said, considering the possibility. "But the fact that it still exists at all suggests that it may be fundamentally unchanged. You wouldn't be a member of a court that no longer exists, would you?"

Of course, causality had gone all wonky since the reformation of the cage, but Liam didn't know the extent of it.

"There is a spell called the geas," he explained. "Which compels any member of the court to obey a request made of them, if it's worded correctly. I can explain it, so that you can recognize it when it is used against you - and use it against others. That is, assuming Pax didn't explain it already?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"That's true..." He kicked his feet a little in thought. He sort of wanted to tell Liam about Melany, but he also wasn't sure if it was something he wanted to talk about. It still stung. He sipped the cocoa while he thought, tiny vines curling around his fingertips idly.

"The geas?" His eyes went wide. "That... that sounds really dangerous." He swallowed hard. "It didn't teach us how to use it, no." Now his fingertips were thrumming against the side of the mug.

Then again, as dangerous as it was, it might be useful in life or death, especially if someone tried to use it on him. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to play other nobles against their will, but...

"I..." He seemed to flounder with the responsibility of such a powerful thing, but eventually decided it was worth it to bear the weight. "I'm willing. I'll pay attention. I'm guessing there's no real way to resist it...?"

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

"Well," said Liam, "I've never had it used on me, so I don't know if there's any way to resist it." He raised his cocoa, chanced a taste, and recoiled. "Still too hot."

He cleared his throat. "The phrase is Grant that I may never prove so fond to trust a man on oath or bond. It's from Timon of Athens. I'll write it down for you. You follow it with whatever you want the person you're speaking to to do. Noble to noble, it's customary to preface it with I invoke the court prerogative. It's not actually part of the spell, but it's..."

He shrugged. "Y'know. Polite. You might want to put your cocoa on the end table."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh listened intently, setting the cocoa down. It was like the words had weight to them, but without any inherent direction, they fell flat. Still didn't stop the goosebumps on his arms.

He set the cocoa down.

"Who decided that?" Shiloh wasn't much for literary references and the wording was all weird, but he supposed that's how the old timey-wimey books were. He repeated the phrase over and over in his head, tried to ingrain it. Would he ever use it? It felt wrong.

But maybe necessary.

"Actually, yeah, who did decide that." He tilted his head, "The Court and everything. Is it as old as Otherworld?"

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

"The Court formed out of the Otherworld," said Liam. "It couldn't exist without it - but it's not as old as it. It took time to develop, but once it did, it became a constant, unbound by the cycle. "

He eyed the cocoa.

"Grant that I may never prove so fond to trust a man on oath or bond," said Liam, the words light on his lips. "Please do your best tap dance on the coffee table."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"Makes sense." He mused aloud to himself, eyeing the cocoa on the table. He went to reach for it, except--

Liam repeating the words had no real clout to him at first. Maybe he was saying them as he wrote them down? Except then the request hit him like a freight train; barreled right into his head, made his vision spin, made his skin itch.

"I-- what? B-But I can't--" His words were tongue tied, eyes wide. He couldn't resist it. It itched . Burned. He was already standing. "I don't wanna ruin your table Noor, I don't even know how to--" Nope, nope, there went the first foot on the table.

He hoped then able god Sunny wasn't watching whatever atrocity that was about to take place.

Silverah

 

[Silverah]

Sunny reappeared, leaning against the dining room doorway. "I heard tap dancing," she said. "And the geas."

She eyed Shiloh, eyes sparkling. "Are you gonna do Riverdance?"

"That's not tap," said Liam, looking up at Shiloh, bemused. "But do go on."

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

"But I have no idea how," Shiloh still pleaded, even though the deed was done, pact was sealed, whatever you wanyed to call it. His other leg swinging up, he was now effectively planted on the coffee table.

Giving into the urge and willing himself into the request satiated the itch somewhat, and he found the feeling growing back up in intensity any time he stalled or faltered. His mind was racing. His stomach sunk. He didn't know anything about dancing, let alone tap, but his obligations deemed that he had to try regardless.

His foot gave a tentative tap to the surface of the desk, the sound sharp and staccato, but aside from that... it was a wild array of legs flailing and feet beating against the top of the table in an act deemed neither graceful nor worth of being even remotely labeled as a tap dance.

It was, in all honesty, a mess.

Silverah

what is my life