CHARLIE: Charlie/Marie-Ange
Jun. 12th, 2005 12:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated. Charlie meets up with Marie-Ange, and she learns the future is in cheese. Seriously.
Marie-Ange was well used to walking into her suite and finding members of the opposite sex there. There were weekends Doug spent more time in her room than his own. But finding boys that were not Doug, or Manuel, that was a little different. Since she hadn't heard about Manuel developing shapeshifting powers, thank heavens, and there were definitly no new student announcements, this -had- to be Amanda's new friend. But there was a definite lack of Amanda.
"Charlie, yes? Please tell me Amanda is not invisible. Invisible roommates were not on. It inevitably led to tripping over -naked- invisible roommates doing things Marie-Ange did not want to think about.
Charlie looked up from the book he was studying and grinned, flicker fast. "Not last time I checked. She dropped me off here to go hand over Meggan to someone for babysitting." He put the book down and got up to shake Marie-Ange's hand. "Charlie Plunder. And Amanda said your name was Maryanne?"
At least he was polite. "Marie-Ange. Or Angie." Marie-Ange paused and smiled. "And Frenchie, but only if you acquire a British accent and stick metal through your face." She tilted her head looking over Charlie carefully. "You were the one who gave Amanda the history references, yes?"
"Um, yeah, I guess so." He rubbed the end of his nose distractedly. An attractive french red head, dressed trendy and with the oh-so refined accent. She would easily fit in the ruling class at Southcrest. "We've been working on her, well, power for lack of a better term. Been trying to clear out as many assumptions as possible, so she can develop something suited for her. There, uh, well a lot of misinformation about witchcraft and its history out there."
"History is not at all precise." Marie-Ange agreed. "Anything written down by people, interpreted by different people and then written down again in three different ways, by even more people, all of whom have agendas? Sometimes I think we are all lucky any of it makes sense at all." She sat down on the opposite edge of the couch, pulling her feet under her. "Worse when it is something most people do not even believe in, or condemn out of hand."
"There's also the trendy history, where everyone with a spice rack and a need for religious reasons to dance around in a field naked takes something and converts it to their own needs." Charlie grinned. "Winners may write the history, but it's the publishers that get the royalties."
"I am still quite certain that many of the people who have started pagan religions do it for the sake of being different." Marie-Ange paused thoughtfully and then smirked. "Or to see people nude, though that seems like a lot of work just to get someone's clothes off."
"Some of us need all the help we can get." Charlie sat back down and grinned. "In Amanda's case, it's just a question of getting her mindscape clear enough to focus on what works for her. And I won't lie. It's tremendously fun for me too."
He couldn't be serious about that. A nice guy like this, unable to find someone to date? That didn't seem quite right. "Amanda said you cannot do magic, you just know a great deal about it?"
“Not a bit. I don’t have the, well, talent I guess. I’m more the armchair mage.” Charlie gestured vaguely. “Like a music lover with no rhythm, or something. It is pretty fascinating stuff. Lots of garbage to claw through, but what is behind it…” He trailed off and smiled self-consciously. “So, I hear you do cartomancy?”
"In a sense." Marie-Ange shrugged. "It is a focus for my precognition, and whether that is my mutation or something mystical..." She rolled her eyes. "That depends on who you ask. I say it is a mutation, one of Amanda's teachers says it does not matter and that it is mystical even if it is a mutation."
“Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck kind of thing.” Charlie considered for a moment. “I suppose the source doesn’t really matter, as long as it works the same. I, uh, don’t know too much about divination, I’m afraid. If magic is weird and mucked up with nonsense, precognition is even worse. I won’t even know where to start looking for legitimate sources.”
Marie-Ange laughed. "I gave up. None of my sources agreed on much of anything, and there is no way to tell what is and is not legitimate without trying." She shook her head. "And there are just some things I am not willing to try. Reading the future in bloody entrails? I think not."
“You could always try tyromancy.” Marie-Ange gave him a blank look, and he laughed. “Telling the future through the study of cheese. Very clichéd.”
At the explanation, Marie-Ange giggled. "The mice are in my room for the myomancy. I am supposed to read the future in the little trails they leave in a tray of sand, but they are -fat- and refuse to run in the sand. Or in the wheels." She hrmed thoughtfully and then giggled more. "Cheese? Are you serious?"
“Cheese.” Charlie said solemnly. “I’m not sure how it’s supposed to work, but there are works about it. Personally, I’ll stick to thaumaturgical theory. It’s less confusing.”
Marie-Ange shook her head slowly. "I have to wonder if there is a reason for the sense of the absurd in magic. Cheese, ridiculous rituals that require nudity, funny sounding words. Is there a reason for all that?" Now that she thought about it, there was a definite theme.
“Ritual is important. Consider religion as a parallel. Funny hats, silly rituals, a holy cracker; looked at from the outside, it’s almost as ludicrous. But it’s what’s inside the ritual that’s important. Judaism, once you take out the aspect of faith, is really a system for engendering tribal harmony, perseverance, and health. Back in the Middle East in five hundred BC, being kosher and following the Torah was a great way to stay alive and prosperous. I suppose you can say the same thing about Catholicism, or Islam.” He was actually fairly animated when he talked about this sort of thing, obviously something he spent a lot of time considering. “The cross, or the koppah, or the communion wafer aren’t literal things, but symbolic of a greater idea. Magic is very much about symbols and representation, and the real rules and power is hidden inbetween them.”
Symbols and representation... Marie-Ange chewed on that mentally for a while, staying quiet long after Charlie stopped talking. "Precognition is entirely symbolic, or, at the least, mine is, and it is all relative to the person I am trying to see for. What is a symbol of celebration for one person, can be a representation of twisted
sibling rivalry for another." Her cards - at least, one of the innumerable decks scattered around the suite - were on the bookshelf just within her arm's reach, so she grabbed them, flipping up the top card.
"See, if I were to try to see something for one of my teachers, I might be concerned that he was going to get himself in trouble. Again. And if I saw it for Amanda's boyfriend, I might think he was having problems with his power." She frowned at the figure of a horned devil on the card. "But for others, it could mean something else entirely. A betrayed secret, or bigotry, or someone trying to control their actions."
"Ah, the joys of interpretation. I don't envy you that. Magic is at least a direct connection: one thing to create another. Not, 'take a wild guess' sort of thing." Charlie picked up the card and turned it over a couple of times in his fingers. "Symbols of things... and this is the start of a much much longer conversation than we've probably got time for." He passed over the card.
"I have been having that conversation with half the people here for months already. It is not so much that we have new ones, just more that the original conversation never, ever ends." Marie-Ange slid the card back into the deck. "Though, if you mention quantum physics, I shall have to throw things at you. People keep trying to tell me that
precognition is like electrons."
"Ah, Forge." Charlie grinned. He'd been having long arguments with Forge over e-mail, trying to get around the other man's need to be able to quantify absolutely everything, and getting incised when parts of magic theory didn't work the way he thought they should. Charlie kept reminding him that it might be that the scientific langauge isn't sophisticated enough yet to explain some things. "The only thing is that you're relying on mathematical theory as opposed to psychic or magical theory. I think the answer is a long way down the road. Mind you, he's brilliant enough to figure it out eventually."
"Forge, yes. And Doug, once, but I think he knows better." Perhaps some other people had too. Maybe Nathan. "Forge is scary. Brilliant, but very, very odd." Marie-Ange said, shaking her head. "Though, that seems to be a theme. Very smart people are just a little strange most of the time."
"Brains overheating, I guess. Makes the rest of us look a little more sane in comparison." Charlie grinned. "Mind you, this place is enough to test anyone's sanity. I'd be walking around way eyed all the time if I lived here."
Marie-Ange grinned and raised an eyebrow slowly. "What makes you think any of us are quite sane?" She giggled a little manically and shrugged. "I claim I can see the future. Amanda 'does magic'. My boyfriend swears fluently in languages no one else can speak. Any of us could be locked up for being crazy..."
"Between you lot, and Remy's hints about his 'dark past'," Charlie made quote gestures with his fingers. "I think this entire place is really some kind of wacky cult. Designed to find hot mutants and make them live together in a fabulously wealthy mansion... hey, it's like a reality show!"
"Oh please, please do not talk about reality television. There is a swimming pool and a lake, and I am quite sure I could throw you in one of those." Charlie was not that big, she thought, and at worst, she could just get an image to chase him around and cart him off. "American television is by and large a truly scary and awful thing to have to watch."
"Good money in it. Besides, that could be your whole new ad campaign for next year: American Mutant. I like it. It's got a ring to it." Charlie grinned.
Marie-Ange covered her eyes with one hand and groaned. "Someone at one of those awful television stations is going to make that show and it will all be on your head, all of it, and then we will have to find someone to torture you in messy terrible ways for having the idea in the first place." She shook her head, first in mock scolding, and once with a frown as if a shiver has run down her neck. "I should... " She started, standing up. "I think I am about to have a headache come on, and I should go lie down."
"Um, alright." Charlie said, a little thrown by her abrupt switch from humour to seriousness. "Uh, can you point me at Remy's office? I can wait for Amanda in there."
"It likely smells of cigarette smoke as well.." Marie-Ange sent him off with directions and a not entirely positive description of Remy's
office, and went to lie down in the dark. She definitly had a headache coming on, and one of the bad ones.
Marie-Ange was well used to walking into her suite and finding members of the opposite sex there. There were weekends Doug spent more time in her room than his own. But finding boys that were not Doug, or Manuel, that was a little different. Since she hadn't heard about Manuel developing shapeshifting powers, thank heavens, and there were definitly no new student announcements, this -had- to be Amanda's new friend. But there was a definite lack of Amanda.
"Charlie, yes? Please tell me Amanda is not invisible. Invisible roommates were not on. It inevitably led to tripping over -naked- invisible roommates doing things Marie-Ange did not want to think about.
Charlie looked up from the book he was studying and grinned, flicker fast. "Not last time I checked. She dropped me off here to go hand over Meggan to someone for babysitting." He put the book down and got up to shake Marie-Ange's hand. "Charlie Plunder. And Amanda said your name was Maryanne?"
At least he was polite. "Marie-Ange. Or Angie." Marie-Ange paused and smiled. "And Frenchie, but only if you acquire a British accent and stick metal through your face." She tilted her head looking over Charlie carefully. "You were the one who gave Amanda the history references, yes?"
"Um, yeah, I guess so." He rubbed the end of his nose distractedly. An attractive french red head, dressed trendy and with the oh-so refined accent. She would easily fit in the ruling class at Southcrest. "We've been working on her, well, power for lack of a better term. Been trying to clear out as many assumptions as possible, so she can develop something suited for her. There, uh, well a lot of misinformation about witchcraft and its history out there."
"History is not at all precise." Marie-Ange agreed. "Anything written down by people, interpreted by different people and then written down again in three different ways, by even more people, all of whom have agendas? Sometimes I think we are all lucky any of it makes sense at all." She sat down on the opposite edge of the couch, pulling her feet under her. "Worse when it is something most people do not even believe in, or condemn out of hand."
"There's also the trendy history, where everyone with a spice rack and a need for religious reasons to dance around in a field naked takes something and converts it to their own needs." Charlie grinned. "Winners may write the history, but it's the publishers that get the royalties."
"I am still quite certain that many of the people who have started pagan religions do it for the sake of being different." Marie-Ange paused thoughtfully and then smirked. "Or to see people nude, though that seems like a lot of work just to get someone's clothes off."
"Some of us need all the help we can get." Charlie sat back down and grinned. "In Amanda's case, it's just a question of getting her mindscape clear enough to focus on what works for her. And I won't lie. It's tremendously fun for me too."
He couldn't be serious about that. A nice guy like this, unable to find someone to date? That didn't seem quite right. "Amanda said you cannot do magic, you just know a great deal about it?"
“Not a bit. I don’t have the, well, talent I guess. I’m more the armchair mage.” Charlie gestured vaguely. “Like a music lover with no rhythm, or something. It is pretty fascinating stuff. Lots of garbage to claw through, but what is behind it…” He trailed off and smiled self-consciously. “So, I hear you do cartomancy?”
"In a sense." Marie-Ange shrugged. "It is a focus for my precognition, and whether that is my mutation or something mystical..." She rolled her eyes. "That depends on who you ask. I say it is a mutation, one of Amanda's teachers says it does not matter and that it is mystical even if it is a mutation."
“Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck kind of thing.” Charlie considered for a moment. “I suppose the source doesn’t really matter, as long as it works the same. I, uh, don’t know too much about divination, I’m afraid. If magic is weird and mucked up with nonsense, precognition is even worse. I won’t even know where to start looking for legitimate sources.”
Marie-Ange laughed. "I gave up. None of my sources agreed on much of anything, and there is no way to tell what is and is not legitimate without trying." She shook her head. "And there are just some things I am not willing to try. Reading the future in bloody entrails? I think not."
“You could always try tyromancy.” Marie-Ange gave him a blank look, and he laughed. “Telling the future through the study of cheese. Very clichéd.”
At the explanation, Marie-Ange giggled. "The mice are in my room for the myomancy. I am supposed to read the future in the little trails they leave in a tray of sand, but they are -fat- and refuse to run in the sand. Or in the wheels." She hrmed thoughtfully and then giggled more. "Cheese? Are you serious?"
“Cheese.” Charlie said solemnly. “I’m not sure how it’s supposed to work, but there are works about it. Personally, I’ll stick to thaumaturgical theory. It’s less confusing.”
Marie-Ange shook her head slowly. "I have to wonder if there is a reason for the sense of the absurd in magic. Cheese, ridiculous rituals that require nudity, funny sounding words. Is there a reason for all that?" Now that she thought about it, there was a definite theme.
“Ritual is important. Consider religion as a parallel. Funny hats, silly rituals, a holy cracker; looked at from the outside, it’s almost as ludicrous. But it’s what’s inside the ritual that’s important. Judaism, once you take out the aspect of faith, is really a system for engendering tribal harmony, perseverance, and health. Back in the Middle East in five hundred BC, being kosher and following the Torah was a great way to stay alive and prosperous. I suppose you can say the same thing about Catholicism, or Islam.” He was actually fairly animated when he talked about this sort of thing, obviously something he spent a lot of time considering. “The cross, or the koppah, or the communion wafer aren’t literal things, but symbolic of a greater idea. Magic is very much about symbols and representation, and the real rules and power is hidden inbetween them.”
Symbols and representation... Marie-Ange chewed on that mentally for a while, staying quiet long after Charlie stopped talking. "Precognition is entirely symbolic, or, at the least, mine is, and it is all relative to the person I am trying to see for. What is a symbol of celebration for one person, can be a representation of twisted
sibling rivalry for another." Her cards - at least, one of the innumerable decks scattered around the suite - were on the bookshelf just within her arm's reach, so she grabbed them, flipping up the top card.
"See, if I were to try to see something for one of my teachers, I might be concerned that he was going to get himself in trouble. Again. And if I saw it for Amanda's boyfriend, I might think he was having problems with his power." She frowned at the figure of a horned devil on the card. "But for others, it could mean something else entirely. A betrayed secret, or bigotry, or someone trying to control their actions."
"Ah, the joys of interpretation. I don't envy you that. Magic is at least a direct connection: one thing to create another. Not, 'take a wild guess' sort of thing." Charlie picked up the card and turned it over a couple of times in his fingers. "Symbols of things... and this is the start of a much much longer conversation than we've probably got time for." He passed over the card.
"I have been having that conversation with half the people here for months already. It is not so much that we have new ones, just more that the original conversation never, ever ends." Marie-Ange slid the card back into the deck. "Though, if you mention quantum physics, I shall have to throw things at you. People keep trying to tell me that
precognition is like electrons."
"Ah, Forge." Charlie grinned. He'd been having long arguments with Forge over e-mail, trying to get around the other man's need to be able to quantify absolutely everything, and getting incised when parts of magic theory didn't work the way he thought they should. Charlie kept reminding him that it might be that the scientific langauge isn't sophisticated enough yet to explain some things. "The only thing is that you're relying on mathematical theory as opposed to psychic or magical theory. I think the answer is a long way down the road. Mind you, he's brilliant enough to figure it out eventually."
"Forge, yes. And Doug, once, but I think he knows better." Perhaps some other people had too. Maybe Nathan. "Forge is scary. Brilliant, but very, very odd." Marie-Ange said, shaking her head. "Though, that seems to be a theme. Very smart people are just a little strange most of the time."
"Brains overheating, I guess. Makes the rest of us look a little more sane in comparison." Charlie grinned. "Mind you, this place is enough to test anyone's sanity. I'd be walking around way eyed all the time if I lived here."
Marie-Ange grinned and raised an eyebrow slowly. "What makes you think any of us are quite sane?" She giggled a little manically and shrugged. "I claim I can see the future. Amanda 'does magic'. My boyfriend swears fluently in languages no one else can speak. Any of us could be locked up for being crazy..."
"Between you lot, and Remy's hints about his 'dark past'," Charlie made quote gestures with his fingers. "I think this entire place is really some kind of wacky cult. Designed to find hot mutants and make them live together in a fabulously wealthy mansion... hey, it's like a reality show!"
"Oh please, please do not talk about reality television. There is a swimming pool and a lake, and I am quite sure I could throw you in one of those." Charlie was not that big, she thought, and at worst, she could just get an image to chase him around and cart him off. "American television is by and large a truly scary and awful thing to have to watch."
"Good money in it. Besides, that could be your whole new ad campaign for next year: American Mutant. I like it. It's got a ring to it." Charlie grinned.
Marie-Ange covered her eyes with one hand and groaned. "Someone at one of those awful television stations is going to make that show and it will all be on your head, all of it, and then we will have to find someone to torture you in messy terrible ways for having the idea in the first place." She shook her head, first in mock scolding, and once with a frown as if a shiver has run down her neck. "I should... " She started, standing up. "I think I am about to have a headache come on, and I should go lie down."
"Um, alright." Charlie said, a little thrown by her abrupt switch from humour to seriousness. "Uh, can you point me at Remy's office? I can wait for Amanda in there."
"It likely smells of cigarette smoke as well.." Marie-Ange sent him off with directions and a not entirely positive description of Remy's
office, and went to lie down in the dark. She definitly had a headache coming on, and one of the bad ones.
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Date: 2005-07-06 09:59 pm (UTC)When I first read that, I thought that Angie was going to make some horrid comment about what people do in pools on reality shows. *shudder*