Right after class - M4M, week 3

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

Professor Freeman sat back in his chair after class, watching the students leave. He'd heard Shihab and Beau use the words "bonfire", "fireworks", and "magic" in the same conversation, and this did not bode well for the future. Hopefully, everything would be in order, and he could convince them of the need to be at least slightly responsible with power. Hopefully. History had shown again and again that responsibility was surprisingly rare, at least in the under-2000-years-old crowd.

He pulled a pair of dice out of his pocket and rolled them, glaring at the results. 4 and a bullseye were not terribly descriptive answers, but there was enough subtext there to make him slightly concerned.

[Shihab]

Shihab's earlier ease and at-ease airs had utterly vanished, as he couldn't even banish a single emotion anymore; the whole class was beyond his ken, as he'd withdrawn into his mind, but the frustration was strong enough to be clouding every metaphorical step he took, and he'd begun to growl under his breath, animal-like, when the class dispersed. Hearing normal conversations start up, his concentration, or whatever was left of it, scattered like smoke on a breeze, and he stood abruptly, furiously muttering in various tongues under his breath, none of it repeatable on such an innocent forum as this. Professor Freeman, if he paid attention, might catch words in Arabic, both modern and ancient, Egyptian, and a few African tribal words he'd caught over the years. He grabbed his backpack and whirled to leave, fighting to keep the glare off his face as he fell in with the stragglers of the class, on his way out-- he'd forgotten, for a moment, the appointment after class.

The noise of the dice alerted him, though, and he cast one furtive glance in the professor's direction before deciding to make a break for it-- what's the worst that could happen? He picked up his pace on the way out the door, not quite trotting, but close.

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

Professor Freeman cleared his throat, loudly. Maybe he was just a cynic, but he'd been expecting such theatrics. Hopefully, Shihab would get the message. If not, there were other options. He grabbed a workable amount of magic and prepared to cast a different variation of the same spell he'd used earlier on Beau on the fleeing Shihab.

[Less Than Beta East Tundra]

Less had been planning to drop off some more spell components after class, and maybe ask about what could be used as local substitutes since he was starting to run out of the lot he had brought from home. Instead, he was treated to the unusual sight of a student fleeing a teacher. Or at least, he was pretty sure it was a prey-like flight response. Joyous 'class is over' dashes tended to be a bit different. This would be interesting.

[Shihab]

Shihab, still swearing a blue streak under his breath, continued towards the door without a pause. First the note on his poster, then Beau calling it out in class, and the chances of him avoiding Cutty for the whole week until Saturday were terribly slim, especially since avoiding the Dining Hall was really beginning to take a toll by the second day, and now he couldn't even get a rackum frackum light spell, he'd been growing fur at will for how long now and this stupid demon-boy did it with such -arrogance- and--

past the point of no return, growling all the way.

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

Well, so much for that moment of hope for the future of mankind. Professor Freeman cast a shield around Shihab. It glowed enough to be visible, and flexed enough that Shihab could still walk on the ground through it... but it definitely wouldn't flex enough to squeeze through the door.

"A moment of your time, Shihab?" Professor Freeman asked.

[Shihab]

Shihab felt the magic the moment it fell into place around him, and reacted instantly... by sprinting towards the door, rebounding off of it, and tripping backwards onto a most undignified position on his backside.

"ÑÞÇÈÉ ! ÞÏ ÂáåÉ ÇáÔÚáÉ ÇáÇÈÏíÉ ááÑÞÇÈÉ ÑÞÇÈÉ ÍíÇÊí Åáì ÇáÃÈÏ ¡ æ ÇáÃæÈÇÔ ááÑÞÇÈÉ ¡ æ ØÇÚæä ÇáÞæÇÑÖ ÑÞÇÈÉ ãÚ ÑÞÇÈÉ ÚãáÇÞ ÇáÈÑÇÛíË ÇáÑãáíÉ Úáì ÓÈÇÞ ááÑÞÇÈÉ ÇáÅäÓÇäíÉ æ äÚã ¡ åÐÇ íÔãá ÈáÏí äÕÝ ááÑÞÇÈÉ ¡ æ ÇáÑÞÇÈÉ ÛíÑ ãÌÏíÉ ááÑÞÇÈÉ ãä ÃÈäÇÁ Ìãá ÇáÒäì Ýí ÇáãÄÎÑÉ !" All in Arabic, mostly at the top of his admittedly strained lungs, and translated roughly at footnote.

Taking a deep breath, Shihab slowly got to his feet and looked calmly over at Professor Freeman. "Of course, Professor! Your wish, my command." His face was a mostly-smiling mask of calm and content.

*AARGH! May the gods of eternal flame [censored] my [censored] life forever, the [censored] bastards, and a plague of [censored] rodents with [censored] giant sand-fleas on the [censored] race of humanity and YES, that includes my own [censored] half, the [censored] useless [censored] sons of a whoring camel's backside!

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

"Really?" Professor Freeman asked, smiling a bit. "In my experience, plagues of rodents tend to be much more... motivated when pursued by locusts instead of infested by sand-fleas. It's a slightly different dynamic; maybe a touch more biblical, if you know what I mean."

He paused for a moment, waiting for the other students to get a touch further away.

"Now, I take it I've hit something of a nerve. What is this about a bonfire and fireworks?"

[Shihab]

Shihab opened his mouth, still glaring, and then stopped, mouth still comically open. He closed it, and shook his head a bit, restoring a bit of the grin. "Of course you speak Arabic," he said, with a look somewhere between wry and irritated and stubborn. "It's that kind of week."

He looked over at Beau, who was apparently not the rebel type, and then at Less, with a slightly helpless shrug. "I hadn't actually planned on fireworks... just a few friends, maybe some food, and a fire somewhere away from flammable things. But I think the--" and stopped. Telling a professor the administration had different ideas about whether or not a bonfire was allowed... bad idea. Maybe naivete was contagious, he thought. It for sure wasn't helping.

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

"Fluently," Professor Freeman said, in Arabic. "If you'd care for a complete list of accomplishments, I can have one printed off for you."

Switching back to English, he continued.

"Illusion is really the study of showing off with magic. If you would like, I have several books on illusions that you are welcome to borrow. Furthermore, I am not aware of any rules prohibiting the responsible use of illusion on campus. However, let me make this point clear: out of control magic for any purpose other than learning to control it will not be tolerated. It is, quite simply, a danger to you and everyone around you. It's also a waste of power. Watch closely."

Professor Freeman clapped his hands together and then threw them up and apart, tossing a thousand stars into the deep black void that had, moments before, been the ceiling. A wisp of aurora glowed, and then the entire sky began to lighten, heralding an approaching dawn.

[Beau Boudreaux]

Beau walked up, completely confused by the...whatever language they were speaking...and looked apologetically at Shihab. "Beau sorree, no mean ta spill tha bean." His look of apology was turned to wonder as the professor began his demonstration. He whistled as he said, "Dat somedin Beau nevah can do. Beau jus' no good wit' dis kinna ding. Beau bettah wit da fightin'."

[Shihab]

Shihab contemplated the professor thoughtfully. Following back to English, he said, rather more quietly, "Though I'm sure that would be inspiring and awesome indeed, I'd rather just know why your accent is old enough to fit--" he stopped, shaking his head. "You speak it better than I do. Better than anyone but my father, actually."

Looking at Beau, he gave a shrug and friendly smile. "No worries, Beau. 'Twas bound to get out sooner or later."

He watched the display on the ceiling with undisguised awe, and without looking down, whistled softly with Beau. "That's without any preparation, isn't it? And with absolutely no overspill-- I'll bet it hasn't even taxed you. Remind me never to get on your bad side," he muttered under his breath.

[Less Than Beta East Tundra]

Less cocked his head. Hadn't they already gotten permission from the teachers? If the issue was about magic possibly going out of control, he could understand. On the other hand, there wasn't a whole lot on the beach that could be harmed by an out-of-control spell. Maybe some hermit crabs or bits of scrub, but that was about it.

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

Overhead, the stars fell out of the sky and into the distance, and as the light increased, the deep void faded away to the familiar walls and ceiling of the room. The ending was a little more ragged than the start had been - it was obviously only the first bit of a more complicated display.

"Entirely without preparation," Professor Freeman said. "Also, more to the point, it used maybe two-thirds the power that mister Bourdeaux's little fireball used earlier. Uncontrolled magic is inefficient and dangerous. What if, instead of losing control of a mage-light, you'd lost control of a levin-bolt? You could have killed someone with that much power."

Professor Freeman paused for a moment, wondering if Headmistress Cutty knew about the bonfire plan. Phrasing his question carefully, he rolled his dice. One and a bulls-eye: Definite yes.

"Well," he said. "I have no problems with a bonfire, provided you exercise care and caution with how and where it happens. East Beta, I would appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on the proceedings. Is there anything else I can do for you? Shihab and I are about to go speak with Headmistress Cutty."

[Shihab]

Shihab winced visibly at the final sentence, but did not lose his temper or humor again, and shrugged, a wry look on his face. "I don't suppose that's negotiable," he said.

Really, he hadn't expected the whole thing to go off without a hitch, and had already begun considering several backup plans, such as a decoy fire, or perhaps finding a way to hoodwink or bribe whichever professors were in charge... but he cleared his mind, wondering somewhere in the back of his thoughts if Professor Freeman had magic for mind-reading.

[Less Than Beta East Tundra]

"We were thinking of using the beach for the bonfire," Less said. He walked over to the teacher and held out a strip of rawhide and a bone ring. "I have another set of materials for you, Professor Freeman. This one is for basic scrying within a previously set area. It'll tell you the general location of large congregations of living things. You string the rawhide through the ring and give them both a good spin. Also, I was wondering about what makes something a good substitution."

[Shihab]

Shihab didn't even bother with voice inflection or a passing attempt at convincing. Flatly, he 'asked,' "Bonfire? What bonfire? Surely, the headmistress knows more about this than I do. My presence here will only detract, as I know naught of the bonfire of which you speak."

He kicked absently at the slightly-glowing sphere. "All denial and obligatory punk teenage rebellion aside, can I walk to the Headmistress' office? This is... undignified."

[Prof. Michael Freeman]

The shield burst with slightly more noise than a popping soap bubble, returning Shihab to the floor. Professor Freeman paused to consider Less's question.

"Substitutions are tricky... In general, you're looking for a material or combination of materials that will react to magic in the same way as what you're replacing. More formalized magic systems tend to make it easier, as you already know what the phases and cycles and frequencies are, and that those concepts even apply... Depending on the system, you may have to re-write large segments of the ritual, which gets significantly more complicated when that ritual includes a thousand-line epic poem."