contact//messaging//¿por qué hacer eso?

[treadingdawn]

[Click.]

[Is this for real?]

[Why yes. Yes it is.]



Hello. Um, this is Caspian--

[BEEEEEEEEEEEP. Sultry woman's voice:]

Hola. Caspian del buzón de voz está roto. Esta es su refrigerador.
Por favor, hable muy despacio y voy a mantener su mensaje a mi mismo con un imán!
Gracias.

[BEEP. End automated message.]

LABEL MESSAGES AS TEXT, TXT MSG, OR AUDIO. EVERYTHING IS PRIVATE, NO PARTY LINES.
Action for Narnia crew, anytime, anywhere, or pre-arranged with anyone else.

Comments

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

He wonders if he should ask if she misses Harry, but he says nothing of it. He would not like being asked if he missed Peter that first time or if he misses Edmund now. Actually, he would not mind being asked, but he would mind being expected to answer.

"All right," Caspian says while reaching down to pick the bottle up. He looks over it, if there is anything to read there under the dim light, or if he can determine the color of it. "I don't mind the taste, especially if it's a gift," he shakes his head and smiles, bottle raised a little higher. He doesn't presume that Luna will ask for a favor in return, but if she does... "And, you know that if you need anything from me," he starts but doesn't finish, knowing she understands.

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[suncolors.livejournal.com]

"I would mind the taste, I think," she admits, tilting her head, folding her hands over again. The truth is that she misses Harry, but she would as soon miss Hermione--and has--if she was not here. These two people hold very different places in her heart, and yet it is mindful to remember the phrase 'separate but equal' because this is true too. Whereas she understands Harry and can reach out, she understands Hermione and lets the other girl reach, because these things never work the same way twice--friendships, tests, sunrises, or sunsets. That is something Caspian no doubt has his own understanding of.

Turning to look at him directly, she blinks before something occurs to her, watching him raise the modest potion, smiling--is she amused? most of the time, yes--at his unfinished offer. She knows what he means, of course. To be fair, it isn't a type of knowing exclusive to Luna Lovegood, and she knows that as well as the next person, knows that, really, anyone who is paying honest attention would know too.

"Do you need more light?" she asks, because that can be provided too.

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"No, I don't," he shakes his head again, thankful for the offer though. Ah but now he's reminded! "But, wait here," the Telmarine gestures to her, and to her shoes, not that he thinks she'll go anywhere except maybe to follow Destrier if he decides to rummage through the garbage. Bad habit, that horse. He takes the bottle with him too, and no Caspian has no intention of pouring the potion down the drain. He isn't that stubborn or rude. In any case, he takes the bottle into the house, setting it on the kitchen counter where he doesn't think anyone will fancy a sip. Is anyone awake or downstairs at this hour? When he returns it's with a small stack of curiously cut papers.

"Here," he offers the white snowflakes to her. It isn't much, but aren't they pretty? "It isn't much, but maybe you'd like them."

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[suncolors.livejournal.com]

She waits, obviously, and while she waits, she says, as if Destrier is listening to her, "We are very fortunate, you and I." What that means, maybe the horse doesn't even know, or maybe he does. Sometimes Luna's words, like her reasoning, seep in through the cracks of what is regular and expected. It doesn't take long for Caspian to reappear and she doesn't think for a second he has gotten rid of the potion, because he called it a 'gift' and he seems the type to only call something as such if he means it.

"What is 'much'?" she asks and doesn't expect him to pick up on the quote, but she accepts the snowflakes with care, as if they might be made of glass that only looks like paper, and just as fragile. "Thank you," she bows her head briefly. It is a quick look she casts in his direction before she takes her wand from behind her ear, whispering something not quite audible to the point of words one can actually identify. Perhaps it is not too surprising when the well cut shapes float around her in a pleasant circle. It is like a dance, soft, measured, but uncomplicated.

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

Destrier flicks an ear, having heard her but offering no equine insight in kind. Maybe he understands and casually accepts it in a horse-like manner, or maybe he doesn't understand at all but likes the sound of it just the way Luna has said it. Then his tail swishes and he shakes his mane pleasantly. Whatever that means in horse.

And Caspian doesn't pick up on it but he doesn't regard the question any less. "Well, these are certainly not healing potions. I don't think they're potions at all," he says while carefully reclaiming his seat.

Given to the right person they could heal in their own way. For Luna he only means to entertain, much like she did with the lit flower, and snowflakes do have a petal quality about them. He notices the look and watches quietly when she takes the wand. He wonders what she might do with that wand, he wonders a lot really though Caspian isn't the sort to wander, far and without company at least. When the paper shapes start to float around her, he raises his head and the first thought that comes to mind is please don't let those float in front of Peter or Susan's windows. It would be a strange midnight wake up call. As for the magic, he has already accepted it with just a mildly wide-eyed look.

"Good magic," says Caspian, like one might a loyal steed but it carries more than one meaning. Oh and, "you're welcome."

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[suncolors.livejournal.com]

Good magic.

"It takes all kinds," she nods. There are bad wizards and witches of course. There are good ones. There are people with no magic at all both good and bad. There are those who were one thing and are now trying to be another, or have been trying, and for a lot longer than anyone her age might comprehend. Severus comes to mind though she wouldn't presume to know his motivations. It seems foolish in regards to that particular man.

You're welcome.

Again she smiles and the flower-like cut-outs don't wander far because it is only a floating charm, not a following one or a sending one like her shoes have.

"Where we come from, it can be both good and bad, though it only becomes bad when certain people use it. That's true of many things though, I suppose."

among the fallen trees and fast asleep.

[treadingdawn.livejournal.com]

"I am certain it is," he says with a slight nod, referring to the truthfulness of that.

The White Witch is definitely sorcery, as were her two wards sent to cut his hand, but Aslan is also magic, perhaps the greatest magic, and Luna and Merlin know magic as well. Of all of them and the magic users that come to mind, in Narnia and in this City, Jadis is the only one who truly strikes him as deplorable. Beyond that, people seem to be a greater threat than magic itself. He remembers Claire and Karolina's secrets and why they are made to keep things that way. He understands too when Merlin speaks to him of Arthur's father and Arthur's father's rules. Caspian hopes he has done away with that for Narnia, not just for the dwarfs and the centaurs or the fauns and the Talking Beasts, but for Telmarines as well. However, the wand is still an evil, tainted magic, the might of one man's army in the palm of one woman's hand.

"It is not quite like the snow," he remarks, turning his attention back to the floating papers, "but these will not melt." Caspian smiles.