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xp_logsBackdated to last Monday... Amanda brings Forge with her to meet Charlie, and the resulting conversation is something that would make Dr Strange's hair go white. Revolution and magic, oh my.
"All right, so it's not the bevy of attractive girls I promised, but I think you two'll really get on. You think 'bout stuff the same way," Amanda told Forge as they entered the coffee shop she'd arranged to meet her new friend in. She hoisted the bookbag on her shoulder - Strange had given
her quite a bit of extra study to do, but that was becoming usual.
"Riiiiight," Forge drawled, trying to avoid catching his sling on the coat rack. "Got enough of those walking around the campus. Gotta love an early summer." He scratched at his neck. Despite the short-sleeved polo shirt and khaki shorts, the sling was still heavy, cotton, and hot. Making a mental note to research heat dispersion in cybernetic muscle groups later, he reached the counter and ordered an iced coffee. "So who's this mysterious friend I keep hearing about, and is he the kind of 'friend' that's going to make Manuel want to stick pointy things in him?"
"No body mentioned pointy things to me. I think I should be worried." Charlie said, materializing suddenly behind them, leaving Amanda to muse sourly that maybe Remy wasn't such a good influence. "Unless it's another friend. And who's Manuel?" Charlie had caught them coming in from his corner booth, and had collected his second coffee up to greet them. Mind you, after his own nervous blather reached his ears, he wondered if he should have chosen decaf.
"Charlie, this is Forge - I told you 'bout him, he's been helpin' make me life easier with the magic, yeah? An' Forge, this is my friend Charlie." She stressed the word slightly. Boys. Teenage boys, even. One track minds. "Manuel's me boyfriend - I told you 'bout him too," she continued, sliding into the booth without much ceremony and grabbing the menu. Food. Must have food. "An' no-one's usin' pointy things on anyone, except maybe me if people keep on suggestin' I can't have a friend who's a bloke without all that other stuff gettin' in the way." Perhaps her tone was a little sharp, but Strange had been on her back again and she was getting tired of it.
Forge nodded at Charlie, raising his iced coffee. "I'd shake, but..." he indicated the sling as he sat down opposite Amanda. "Amanda damns me with faint praise. I think she's jealous that I've got more metal in me than she does now." He looked Charlie over briefly, arching an eyebrow. "So... you know Amanda from... magic class?"
"Not exactly." Charlie took the seat across from Forge, clamping down on his normal new meeting jitters. If it was a friend of Amanda's, trying to impress them wasn't going to work. "We ended up fighting over the same book in the shop a couple of weeks ago. She's the first actual thaumaturge I've met. So, you know, not being one to pass up the opportunity to see how all the stuff they write about actually works, you know?"
"Oh, I figured that out months ago," Forge said casually. "Amanda's rather unique, though. Doesn't require an outside call for power in her spells. Which means that about sixty percent of the way they're written doesn't apply, and about ten percent of the rest is just redundant syntax. Mostly because most of the people who wrote the spells had the education of a field mouse, and didn't understand single-reference programming." He trailed off slowly, looking back and forth between Amanda and Charlie. "Er, she did tell you she's a mutant, yeah?" Forge figured that if Charlie was hip-deep into the magic schtick, he wouldn't be likely to go screaming 'filthy mutie' and running into the street.
"Mutant?" Charlie's eyes gleamed. "Oh, I figured that out months ago." Amanda stifled a giggle as Charlie rubbed the end of his nose. "Seriously though, you're right to a point. Unfortunately, there is a personal component in the matrix, so it's not as simple as rewriting the system as an equation. While Amanda doesn't normally require an outside call, there are some elements of magic that no one, even with the level of power that you have, Amanda, can do without tapping into elemental fields."
Forge snorted at that. "Yeah, and in some places they still think eating meat and dairy together damns your soul. It's just science that they haven't developed a cohesive set of measurements for yet. All that threefold stuff? Psychosomatic hogwash. In fact," he nodded at the books sticking out of Charlie's bag, "most of that stuff's about as accurate as cave drawings. I've got a theory that most of what Amanda can do is more related to her mutant ability, the spells are just a crutch."
"While that's another point to be debated, I'm a little surprised. The control of magic, which in most cases does not require a mutant power, has something rooted to the physicality of the subject. So why remove that factor from your analysis?" Charlie grinned and leaned on the table, starting to enjoy this. "Music can be distilled into a series of cohesive measurements and technical movements. So why isn't everyone able to be a concert pianist? Charlie gestured with his hands. "Like Clarke said, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. But our tools for understanding it aren't there yet, and to close off a demonstrastible factor is poor science even by our terms."
Amanda snickered quietly to herself. She had expected this sort of scene, so she wasn't really minding the fact she hadn't gotten a word in edgeways, quietly ordering a tuna melt and fries as the boys talked. Besides, Charlie was better on the theory than she was. "Well, considerin' I didn't know anythin' 'bout the threefold rule when I got t' the school an' it still managed t' get hit with it - gettin' addicted t' me own power's a pretty big smackdown," she said with a shrug. "As for the rest..." She grinned at Forge. "'M keepin' an open mind."
"Ah, but that's because you're looking at it from a superstitious viewpoint," Forge pointed out, "because that's how magic's been looked at for centuries. For years, people believed the speed of light was an absolute limit, but then came Einstein's theories." He took a long drink of his coffee, then gestured at Amanda and her magic books. "I'm more inclined to believe that most of the conflicting viewpoints on magic are because no one's ever looked at it from a scientifically analytical perspective."
"I think that the correct answers are somewhere in between." Charlie said, nodding. "And you should take a look at Sir Francis Bacon, the father of scientific method. He wrote the first critical analysis of magic with his friend Dr John Dee, Elizabeth the First's court mage."
"In between writing the works of Shakespeare?" Forge replied sarcastically, filing the knowledge away for later, "How ever did he find the time? In all seriousness, though, you're more
of an ... academic, you said? Not an actual practitioner?"
"Teapot," Amanda interjected, nudging Charlie with her shoulder and grinning. At Forge's confused look, she elaborated. "All the magical ability of a teapot. Sort of the opposite of me - I'm all flash an' power, Charlie actually knows what the hell he's talkin' about."
"She's right. I don't have the, spark, I guess. I suppose that's why I got so much into the underlying structure of the theories. I can see how it should work, and play around with the linguistic hierarchies, but I don't have the talent to tap into it." Charlie nodded, ignoring Forge's earlier cracks. He was an obvious skeptic, but failure was the best teacher, and Forge wasn't the first to try and strip it down to a simple series of rules. The one fact that Charlie had learned about magic was _nothing_ was ever simple when it was involved.
"Hmm," Forge pondered. "I wonder if there's some biological key to it. Like mutation, but just something that hasn't been categorized. Regardless, I've seen Amanda do some pretty interesting things. Heal the sick, feed the hungry, date the vain and pompous..."
"Manuel's not that bad..." Amanda protested, then honesty prompted her to add. "Always." Both boys were giving her Looks, which she promptly ignored. "I know magic does tend t' run in families - my birth mother says the Szardos women have always been witches. But for someone t' properly study it, they'd have t' believe in magic first, an' considerin' science has spent the last couple of hundred years provin' magic doesn't exist, that's not likely. People at the school didn't believe in what I could do until the love potion mess."
"Love potion? Oh, that's bad news." Charlie muttered, looking a little surprised. Right up there on the list of 'bad ideas' were potions or spells that manipulated people's thoughts and emotions. The backlash was always severe.
"I think there is a biological component, as well as an environmental component. Too much history, too many accounts on both cases exist to rule that out. The more I think about it, the musical analogy fits. There are exceptionally talented thaumaturges who cannot construct a basic spell whereas you get the 'teapot' class that simply can't focus the energy; composers verses performers." Charlie sipped his coffee, musing as he considered the subject. "So rather than looking for a universal baseline to operate on, we should really be using Amanda as a specific standard."
"That's where my focus is," Forge admitted. "Since there's no real evidence that all the other practicing thaumaturges I hear about aren't just talented charlatans. The spells and whatnot aren't difficult once you get the grasp of it, it's apparently the natural talent that's the key to everything. I mean, hell, I could probably do it if it weren't for..." he rapped a knuckle against the metal of his arm.
"Bad news an' then some," Amanda agreed quietly with Charlie. "I was a different person then." Then she answered Forge's statement. "If you've watched the Columbia footage you would've seen another mage. Me tutor was there, shieldin' people. He comes t' the school sometimes - next time he does I'll introduce you." She shrugged. "An' it's easy one way.. but there's always a cost, too. I don't just mean the threefold rule, tho' that's part of it. Even without me control problems, it takes a lot out of me. Especially stuff like healin' - back in May I just about killed meself doin' it - that's why McCoy made the ban."
"Try not filtering the spells through your forebrain." Charlie chided Amanda. "That's going to be the real challenge. Clearing through the different stuff you've got jumbled up so you're not having to brute force the magic out of raw physicality. It's inefficient, less effective, and pretty damn dangerous."
"There I will agree," Forge added. "While most of the different styles you've studied have common threads, it's like trying to make a working machine out of tinkertoys and play-doh. You waste more energy trying to make things work in an inefficient system than you would just brute-forcing it. However..." he smiled over at Charlie conspiratorially, "science has been moving towards a Unified Field Theory for years now. Who's to say magic couldn't do the same?"
Amanda snickered. "You know, between the three of us, we could come up with something pretty bloody amazin'. An' probably scare the shite out of Strange."
"The Historical school will likely eat their grimoires, yeah." Charlie grinned and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it over. "I, uh, pulled down some links to communities on-line, who have looked into the same lines you're talking about, Forge. Might give you a starting point, or at least see some of the lines that have blown up on them."
"Good plan," Forge said with a nod, "I'd appreciate that. Would help to establish some kind of standard nomenclature and design paradigms for people looking to be innovative instead of relying on four-hundred year-old pomp and ritual. Of course, we're not ruling out the tradition of clothes-optional ritual, heaven forbid."
Amanda snorted and nearly choked on the milkshake that had appeared during the conversation. "Only 'cause you aren't the one standin' waist-deep in some bloody frozen pond," she said, but with a grin. Forge had certainly come a long way since that first meeting.
"Forge does have a point." Charlie grinned at her. "And as the resident 'academic', it will be my job to simply observe and record the results. Preferably with a digital camera and a thick sweater."
"Indeed," Forge agreed with a straight face. "For posterior's... posterity's sake. I meant to say that. Really." He managed to keep a deadpan expression for an entire five seconds before breaking down into a fit of laughter. He gasped briefly, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Amanda, but you have to admit - some of those rituals are pretty damn silly."
"Well, it's one way t' get t' see a pretty girl with her kit off," Amanda said with an impish grin. "An' you don't have t' buy her dinner first."
"Alastair Crowley focused on magic primarily as a way to get access to an endless supply of young rich English boys." Charlie rubbed the tip of his nose. "So I'm pretty sure half of those rituals are the same thing. Or worse, modern 'adaptations' of rituals transcribed by old men high on mercury fumes." Charles paused and sighed. "Ah, delicious mercury."
"My thoughts as well," Forge drained his iced coffee and tossed the plastic cup across the table into a trash can. "That's why when I'm working with Amanda's stuff, I tend to use the established stuff as more of a codex rather than a reference manual. Even badly translated, you can dig through the crap to the gist of it. Granted, it takes a genius to figure out how much of it is badly translated inefficient crap, but thankfully I happen to be one."
"Who also happens t' have someone who can read most of the originals," Amanda pointed out. She grinned at Charlie. "So, magic as a way t' pull? You got somethin' t' tell me?"
"Just pointing out some of the historic uses." Charlie grinned back. "Unfortunately, without the special effects to impress the ladies, I'm stuck with the vaguely ominous 'secrets man was not meant to know' track. But seriously, this is why they call it the art. Most of it was fumbling around trying to find something, hell, anything that worked."
"Now that sounds familiar," Amanda said wryly. Just then food arrived, and she virtually pounced on hers. "So, what d'you reckon, think we should inflict Charlie on the school?" she asked Forge, her mouth full.
"Please," Forge spat sarcastically. "Trust me, if you're looking to impress girls with intellectual knowledge, Xavier's is the last place you'd want to try. But not that I'm any expert on the subject, of course."
He took a bite out of the croissant that found its way in front of him, then itched awkwardly at his shoulder. "So if you can't actually do magic," he asked Charlie, "why the interest?"
"The chess club would have been too much of a cliche?" Charlie helped himself to the butter for his bagel. "I suppose it's because its interesting. There's an entire history that sets below the accepted one, and you can see the influence crop up all over the place. As for the magic itself, there's..." He paused, obviously trying to find the words. "Something in it that just speaks to me. Like people who get all excited about sports or music, but don't have the talent to do it. It's like a totally different language, and it opens up new things every step further you go with it."
Amanda looked thoughtful - Charlie has said something similar before, but in less detail. And with less feeling. "Must be interestin', gettin' involved in somethin' 'cause you're interested in it. I do the magic 'cause if I didn't me mutation would probably make me head explode. Forge," and she nodded at him. "His powers make him want t' find out how things work, t' make 'em work better. 'S... I dunno, reassurin'? That there's a choice about it." She realised she was going off on a tangent and shrugged. "Or somethin' like that. Any way, if you two are up for it, I wouldn't mind spendin' some time this summer workin' on clearin' out some of the jumble in me head, spells-wise. Since yeah, the old grey matter's getting' tired of takin' the brunt of it."
"I bet that we can figure something out between us." Charlie nodded. "I've been looking for cases of specifically overclocked thaumaturges like yourself. There isn't much that doesn't start with 'Once upon a time...' but if I can find a few examples, there might be some record of how they managed that kind of powerload."
"And if we can't," Forge said, leaning back, "we can at least sell tickets for when she finally goes ka-boom. See if we can't schedule it around a holiday or something."
"Funny bloke," Amanda teased, smirking. "One day you might even get a real sense of humour."
"We're rewriting the fundamental approach to magic here. Let's not add a second impossible task. I-" Charlie paused as he checked his watch. "Shit! I'm late."
There was a moment of surprise as he swept his notes into his book bag. "Sorry guys. I was supposed to meet my mother ten minutes ago." He continued to fill the bag, a worried expression on his face. Amanda was about to make some comment about ten minutes being nothing, but something about
Charlie's urgency stopped her.
"I'll e-mail you guys." Charlie said, disappeared out the door with uncharacteristic abruptness.
Forge just blinked after Charlie, watching the boy hurry out of the cafe. "That guy," he announced decisively, "is more of a spaz than I am. I approve."
"He's not usually," Amanda said a little absently, a confused expression on her face. It was definitely not a usual Charlie thing. Still, some people had a thing about being on time. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Forge. "So, there's a few really good music shops 'round here. Wanna go find something that'll make our ears bleed?"
"All right, so it's not the bevy of attractive girls I promised, but I think you two'll really get on. You think 'bout stuff the same way," Amanda told Forge as they entered the coffee shop she'd arranged to meet her new friend in. She hoisted the bookbag on her shoulder - Strange had given
her quite a bit of extra study to do, but that was becoming usual.
"Riiiiight," Forge drawled, trying to avoid catching his sling on the coat rack. "Got enough of those walking around the campus. Gotta love an early summer." He scratched at his neck. Despite the short-sleeved polo shirt and khaki shorts, the sling was still heavy, cotton, and hot. Making a mental note to research heat dispersion in cybernetic muscle groups later, he reached the counter and ordered an iced coffee. "So who's this mysterious friend I keep hearing about, and is he the kind of 'friend' that's going to make Manuel want to stick pointy things in him?"
"No body mentioned pointy things to me. I think I should be worried." Charlie said, materializing suddenly behind them, leaving Amanda to muse sourly that maybe Remy wasn't such a good influence. "Unless it's another friend. And who's Manuel?" Charlie had caught them coming in from his corner booth, and had collected his second coffee up to greet them. Mind you, after his own nervous blather reached his ears, he wondered if he should have chosen decaf.
"Charlie, this is Forge - I told you 'bout him, he's been helpin' make me life easier with the magic, yeah? An' Forge, this is my friend Charlie." She stressed the word slightly. Boys. Teenage boys, even. One track minds. "Manuel's me boyfriend - I told you 'bout him too," she continued, sliding into the booth without much ceremony and grabbing the menu. Food. Must have food. "An' no-one's usin' pointy things on anyone, except maybe me if people keep on suggestin' I can't have a friend who's a bloke without all that other stuff gettin' in the way." Perhaps her tone was a little sharp, but Strange had been on her back again and she was getting tired of it.
Forge nodded at Charlie, raising his iced coffee. "I'd shake, but..." he indicated the sling as he sat down opposite Amanda. "Amanda damns me with faint praise. I think she's jealous that I've got more metal in me than she does now." He looked Charlie over briefly, arching an eyebrow. "So... you know Amanda from... magic class?"
"Not exactly." Charlie took the seat across from Forge, clamping down on his normal new meeting jitters. If it was a friend of Amanda's, trying to impress them wasn't going to work. "We ended up fighting over the same book in the shop a couple of weeks ago. She's the first actual thaumaturge I've met. So, you know, not being one to pass up the opportunity to see how all the stuff they write about actually works, you know?"
"Oh, I figured that out months ago," Forge said casually. "Amanda's rather unique, though. Doesn't require an outside call for power in her spells. Which means that about sixty percent of the way they're written doesn't apply, and about ten percent of the rest is just redundant syntax. Mostly because most of the people who wrote the spells had the education of a field mouse, and didn't understand single-reference programming." He trailed off slowly, looking back and forth between Amanda and Charlie. "Er, she did tell you she's a mutant, yeah?" Forge figured that if Charlie was hip-deep into the magic schtick, he wouldn't be likely to go screaming 'filthy mutie' and running into the street.
"Mutant?" Charlie's eyes gleamed. "Oh, I figured that out months ago." Amanda stifled a giggle as Charlie rubbed the end of his nose. "Seriously though, you're right to a point. Unfortunately, there is a personal component in the matrix, so it's not as simple as rewriting the system as an equation. While Amanda doesn't normally require an outside call, there are some elements of magic that no one, even with the level of power that you have, Amanda, can do without tapping into elemental fields."
Forge snorted at that. "Yeah, and in some places they still think eating meat and dairy together damns your soul. It's just science that they haven't developed a cohesive set of measurements for yet. All that threefold stuff? Psychosomatic hogwash. In fact," he nodded at the books sticking out of Charlie's bag, "most of that stuff's about as accurate as cave drawings. I've got a theory that most of what Amanda can do is more related to her mutant ability, the spells are just a crutch."
"While that's another point to be debated, I'm a little surprised. The control of magic, which in most cases does not require a mutant power, has something rooted to the physicality of the subject. So why remove that factor from your analysis?" Charlie grinned and leaned on the table, starting to enjoy this. "Music can be distilled into a series of cohesive measurements and technical movements. So why isn't everyone able to be a concert pianist? Charlie gestured with his hands. "Like Clarke said, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. But our tools for understanding it aren't there yet, and to close off a demonstrastible factor is poor science even by our terms."
Amanda snickered quietly to herself. She had expected this sort of scene, so she wasn't really minding the fact she hadn't gotten a word in edgeways, quietly ordering a tuna melt and fries as the boys talked. Besides, Charlie was better on the theory than she was. "Well, considerin' I didn't know anythin' 'bout the threefold rule when I got t' the school an' it still managed t' get hit with it - gettin' addicted t' me own power's a pretty big smackdown," she said with a shrug. "As for the rest..." She grinned at Forge. "'M keepin' an open mind."
"Ah, but that's because you're looking at it from a superstitious viewpoint," Forge pointed out, "because that's how magic's been looked at for centuries. For years, people believed the speed of light was an absolute limit, but then came Einstein's theories." He took a long drink of his coffee, then gestured at Amanda and her magic books. "I'm more inclined to believe that most of the conflicting viewpoints on magic are because no one's ever looked at it from a scientifically analytical perspective."
"I think that the correct answers are somewhere in between." Charlie said, nodding. "And you should take a look at Sir Francis Bacon, the father of scientific method. He wrote the first critical analysis of magic with his friend Dr John Dee, Elizabeth the First's court mage."
"In between writing the works of Shakespeare?" Forge replied sarcastically, filing the knowledge away for later, "How ever did he find the time? In all seriousness, though, you're more
of an ... academic, you said? Not an actual practitioner?"
"Teapot," Amanda interjected, nudging Charlie with her shoulder and grinning. At Forge's confused look, she elaborated. "All the magical ability of a teapot. Sort of the opposite of me - I'm all flash an' power, Charlie actually knows what the hell he's talkin' about."
"She's right. I don't have the, spark, I guess. I suppose that's why I got so much into the underlying structure of the theories. I can see how it should work, and play around with the linguistic hierarchies, but I don't have the talent to tap into it." Charlie nodded, ignoring Forge's earlier cracks. He was an obvious skeptic, but failure was the best teacher, and Forge wasn't the first to try and strip it down to a simple series of rules. The one fact that Charlie had learned about magic was _nothing_ was ever simple when it was involved.
"Hmm," Forge pondered. "I wonder if there's some biological key to it. Like mutation, but just something that hasn't been categorized. Regardless, I've seen Amanda do some pretty interesting things. Heal the sick, feed the hungry, date the vain and pompous..."
"Manuel's not that bad..." Amanda protested, then honesty prompted her to add. "Always." Both boys were giving her Looks, which she promptly ignored. "I know magic does tend t' run in families - my birth mother says the Szardos women have always been witches. But for someone t' properly study it, they'd have t' believe in magic first, an' considerin' science has spent the last couple of hundred years provin' magic doesn't exist, that's not likely. People at the school didn't believe in what I could do until the love potion mess."
"Love potion? Oh, that's bad news." Charlie muttered, looking a little surprised. Right up there on the list of 'bad ideas' were potions or spells that manipulated people's thoughts and emotions. The backlash was always severe.
"I think there is a biological component, as well as an environmental component. Too much history, too many accounts on both cases exist to rule that out. The more I think about it, the musical analogy fits. There are exceptionally talented thaumaturges who cannot construct a basic spell whereas you get the 'teapot' class that simply can't focus the energy; composers verses performers." Charlie sipped his coffee, musing as he considered the subject. "So rather than looking for a universal baseline to operate on, we should really be using Amanda as a specific standard."
"That's where my focus is," Forge admitted. "Since there's no real evidence that all the other practicing thaumaturges I hear about aren't just talented charlatans. The spells and whatnot aren't difficult once you get the grasp of it, it's apparently the natural talent that's the key to everything. I mean, hell, I could probably do it if it weren't for..." he rapped a knuckle against the metal of his arm.
"Bad news an' then some," Amanda agreed quietly with Charlie. "I was a different person then." Then she answered Forge's statement. "If you've watched the Columbia footage you would've seen another mage. Me tutor was there, shieldin' people. He comes t' the school sometimes - next time he does I'll introduce you." She shrugged. "An' it's easy one way.. but there's always a cost, too. I don't just mean the threefold rule, tho' that's part of it. Even without me control problems, it takes a lot out of me. Especially stuff like healin' - back in May I just about killed meself doin' it - that's why McCoy made the ban."
"Try not filtering the spells through your forebrain." Charlie chided Amanda. "That's going to be the real challenge. Clearing through the different stuff you've got jumbled up so you're not having to brute force the magic out of raw physicality. It's inefficient, less effective, and pretty damn dangerous."
"There I will agree," Forge added. "While most of the different styles you've studied have common threads, it's like trying to make a working machine out of tinkertoys and play-doh. You waste more energy trying to make things work in an inefficient system than you would just brute-forcing it. However..." he smiled over at Charlie conspiratorially, "science has been moving towards a Unified Field Theory for years now. Who's to say magic couldn't do the same?"
Amanda snickered. "You know, between the three of us, we could come up with something pretty bloody amazin'. An' probably scare the shite out of Strange."
"The Historical school will likely eat their grimoires, yeah." Charlie grinned and pulled out a sheet of paper, sliding it over. "I, uh, pulled down some links to communities on-line, who have looked into the same lines you're talking about, Forge. Might give you a starting point, or at least see some of the lines that have blown up on them."
"Good plan," Forge said with a nod, "I'd appreciate that. Would help to establish some kind of standard nomenclature and design paradigms for people looking to be innovative instead of relying on four-hundred year-old pomp and ritual. Of course, we're not ruling out the tradition of clothes-optional ritual, heaven forbid."
Amanda snorted and nearly choked on the milkshake that had appeared during the conversation. "Only 'cause you aren't the one standin' waist-deep in some bloody frozen pond," she said, but with a grin. Forge had certainly come a long way since that first meeting.
"Forge does have a point." Charlie grinned at her. "And as the resident 'academic', it will be my job to simply observe and record the results. Preferably with a digital camera and a thick sweater."
"Indeed," Forge agreed with a straight face. "For posterior's... posterity's sake. I meant to say that. Really." He managed to keep a deadpan expression for an entire five seconds before breaking down into a fit of laughter. He gasped briefly, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Amanda, but you have to admit - some of those rituals are pretty damn silly."
"Well, it's one way t' get t' see a pretty girl with her kit off," Amanda said with an impish grin. "An' you don't have t' buy her dinner first."
"Alastair Crowley focused on magic primarily as a way to get access to an endless supply of young rich English boys." Charlie rubbed the tip of his nose. "So I'm pretty sure half of those rituals are the same thing. Or worse, modern 'adaptations' of rituals transcribed by old men high on mercury fumes." Charles paused and sighed. "Ah, delicious mercury."
"My thoughts as well," Forge drained his iced coffee and tossed the plastic cup across the table into a trash can. "That's why when I'm working with Amanda's stuff, I tend to use the established stuff as more of a codex rather than a reference manual. Even badly translated, you can dig through the crap to the gist of it. Granted, it takes a genius to figure out how much of it is badly translated inefficient crap, but thankfully I happen to be one."
"Who also happens t' have someone who can read most of the originals," Amanda pointed out. She grinned at Charlie. "So, magic as a way t' pull? You got somethin' t' tell me?"
"Just pointing out some of the historic uses." Charlie grinned back. "Unfortunately, without the special effects to impress the ladies, I'm stuck with the vaguely ominous 'secrets man was not meant to know' track. But seriously, this is why they call it the art. Most of it was fumbling around trying to find something, hell, anything that worked."
"Now that sounds familiar," Amanda said wryly. Just then food arrived, and she virtually pounced on hers. "So, what d'you reckon, think we should inflict Charlie on the school?" she asked Forge, her mouth full.
"Please," Forge spat sarcastically. "Trust me, if you're looking to impress girls with intellectual knowledge, Xavier's is the last place you'd want to try. But not that I'm any expert on the subject, of course."
He took a bite out of the croissant that found its way in front of him, then itched awkwardly at his shoulder. "So if you can't actually do magic," he asked Charlie, "why the interest?"
"The chess club would have been too much of a cliche?" Charlie helped himself to the butter for his bagel. "I suppose it's because its interesting. There's an entire history that sets below the accepted one, and you can see the influence crop up all over the place. As for the magic itself, there's..." He paused, obviously trying to find the words. "Something in it that just speaks to me. Like people who get all excited about sports or music, but don't have the talent to do it. It's like a totally different language, and it opens up new things every step further you go with it."
Amanda looked thoughtful - Charlie has said something similar before, but in less detail. And with less feeling. "Must be interestin', gettin' involved in somethin' 'cause you're interested in it. I do the magic 'cause if I didn't me mutation would probably make me head explode. Forge," and she nodded at him. "His powers make him want t' find out how things work, t' make 'em work better. 'S... I dunno, reassurin'? That there's a choice about it." She realised she was going off on a tangent and shrugged. "Or somethin' like that. Any way, if you two are up for it, I wouldn't mind spendin' some time this summer workin' on clearin' out some of the jumble in me head, spells-wise. Since yeah, the old grey matter's getting' tired of takin' the brunt of it."
"I bet that we can figure something out between us." Charlie nodded. "I've been looking for cases of specifically overclocked thaumaturges like yourself. There isn't much that doesn't start with 'Once upon a time...' but if I can find a few examples, there might be some record of how they managed that kind of powerload."
"And if we can't," Forge said, leaning back, "we can at least sell tickets for when she finally goes ka-boom. See if we can't schedule it around a holiday or something."
"Funny bloke," Amanda teased, smirking. "One day you might even get a real sense of humour."
"We're rewriting the fundamental approach to magic here. Let's not add a second impossible task. I-" Charlie paused as he checked his watch. "Shit! I'm late."
There was a moment of surprise as he swept his notes into his book bag. "Sorry guys. I was supposed to meet my mother ten minutes ago." He continued to fill the bag, a worried expression on his face. Amanda was about to make some comment about ten minutes being nothing, but something about
Charlie's urgency stopped her.
"I'll e-mail you guys." Charlie said, disappeared out the door with uncharacteristic abruptness.
Forge just blinked after Charlie, watching the boy hurry out of the cafe. "That guy," he announced decisively, "is more of a spaz than I am. I approve."
"He's not usually," Amanda said a little absently, a confused expression on her face. It was definitely not a usual Charlie thing. Still, some people had a thing about being on time. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Forge. "So, there's a few really good music shops 'round here. Wanna go find something that'll make our ears bleed?"
