You Say Overkill, I Say Due Diligence [open post]

[summerdude]

Magnus copies the sign onto seven different pieces of paper. It reads:

WANT TO LEARN NEW SKILLS? ME FREAKING TOO. I (Magnus Chase) Will Trade Lessons In Any Of The Following For Something You Know:

• ASL (Alf/American Sign Language)


• Camping (pitching tents, campfire safety, celestial navigation)


• What To Do If You Find Yourself Lost In The World Tree Yggdrasil


• Pickpocketing (But only if you promise to use it for good (stealing ONLY from dickhead rich people) and ONLY if you have to!)


• Swordfighting for Beginners (I am intermediate but Jack is advanced and he can help!)


• What It REALLY Feels Like To Die (NOT ADVICE!!!)


• (Trans)Gender Identity and Fluidity (from the perspective of a cis guy) (Alex-approved content only)


• What To Do If The God You're Talking To Is Super Obnoxious Particular


• Why Falafel is the Best Food in the World

All skills welcome! But if you know any of the following I am especially interested: Cooking, Geometry, How To Declare Your Love To Your Partner, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Balancing a Budget, Writing Poetry, Social Studies, Codebreaking.

(Sorry but I will not learn pottery from anyone but ♥Alex Fierro♥. I hope you understand.)

PS if there's enough interest we can maybe do full classes where everybody gets to take turns teaching and learning?

He adds a note about the areas where he can most frequently be found and then posts one sign in each of the two kitchens he's encountered, one by the welcome table, one on the door to the greenhouses, one in the library, one on his bedroom door, and one by what he believes to be the most-populated lounge. Then, with a great deal of eager anticipation, he goes about his day.


[A note from Magnus's typist: Open indefinitely!]

Comments

[summerdude]

"Well, like," Magnus shrugs. "I was really scrawny before I died. I'm still not, like, super buff, but -- I couldn't run. And attacks also hit me at total random? So I'd be going about my day and suddenly it felt like someone was tightening a belt around my chest so I couldn't breathe. It really impacted my sleep. Being outside helped," he remembers. "Which was good, because when I was homeless I could just sleep in a park or whatever instead of dealing with a shelter. Like, I'm glad the shelters are there, but temperature doesn't impact me and I don't like being in crowds. But yeah. It made playing harder, and sleeping harder, and at a certain point you start avoiding doing things because you're just anticipating how bad it can get, so you don't want to give it the chance. And then you miss out on a ton of activities."

[onthewillowsthere]

The texture of his silence shifts and his voice is careful when he asks, "Does it still happen?"

[summerdude]

Magnus glances at Galahad. "I don't have asthma anymore," he says. "Perks of being an einherji. But I can still remember it, like, viscerally, and it..."

He looks out across the lake as they come up to it. "I still don't like things that remind me of it. The panic, too, still... Yeah. Sometimes. I still don't like crowds. Or wolves. Or things that remind me of the feeling of an asthma attack, like... I don't like to be touched?" He remembers holding Galahad's hand, though, and how nice it felt. "Except with specific people. You're okay. You're safe, like Alex or my mom. But with other people... I mean, now I have all these weird powers, so sometimes I'll accidentally blast out a Peace of Frey if things get too intense. That was the thing I did when I disarmed you when we were sparring, but then it was because I was getting tired, not because I was overwhelmed."

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad sees no reason not to take Magnus at his word regarding touch -- if Magnus is like Percival in so many other things, then he's probably as likely to be honest. He nods, too, at the idea of Magnus accidentally losing control of his powers when he's overwhelmed, which feels of a kind with Galahad's holy fire, even if he's only been upset enough to use it once.

He processes you're safe a moment later and looks back at Magnus in surprise.

[summerdude]

Magnus notes the surprise, but can't imagine what he might have said that would cause it. "What?"

[onthewillowsthere]

A quick shake of his head. "What helps?"

[summerdude]

"With the panic?" Magnus asks. He gives the question all due consideration. "It depends, I guess. For me, going outside really helps. Finding a place that feels... wild, and green, and fresh. If I can't get outside, then a quiet, dark room. Preferably empty. Focusing on my breathing, or counting, or talking myself through easy steps for something familiar. Or, like --" he blushes a little. "Putting my head in the lap of someone safe and having them stroke my hair, sometimes, if someone's around. I think? It's worked with Alex and it used to work with mom. Usually realizing that it's panic and not my asthma coming back helps it stop fastest."

[onthewillowsthere]

"Because you know what it is then."

[summerdude]

Galahad as a way of cutting to the heart of things, Magnus thinks. He likes it very much. "Yeah," he agrees.

[onthewillowsthere]

"I like that too. To know what things are."

In the lake a fish jumps, sending ripples across the water.

[summerdude]

Magnus nods in agreement. There's a dragonfly darting amongst some reeds, stubbornly clinging to the last vestiges of warmth in the wake of the summer. Magnus nudges Galahad and nods to it, and its iridescent wings.

[onthewillowsthere]

He quickly puts the bottle down and opens his sketchbook. He already knows from experience that the dragonflies rarely stay still long enough for any kind of study, but he still keeps trying, as a number of half-finished drawings will attest.

[summerdude]

Magnus lowers himself to the ground as Galahad draws, sprawling inelegantly for a moment before leaning over to pick some wildflowers. He starts weaving them together into an elaborate plait -- something to do with his hands as he scans for any other animals he can call over to Galahad.

Oh! There! A chipmunk! "Hey," Magnus calls, quietly. "Want some seeds?"

It seems the chipmunk does. It moseys closer, nose twitching.

[onthewillowsthere]

He fiercely wants to look, but he keeps his eyes on the dragonfly until it suddenly takes to the air again. Freed, he drops down to the grass beside Magnus, putting yet another unfinished charcoal dragonfly aside so he can look for whatever animal Magnus called.

"Where?" softly.

[summerdude]

"Hold out your hand," Magnus says, just as softly, reaching over so he can drop some grass seeds into Galahad's palm. Then he nods off to Galahad's left. "Chipmunk, there."

[onthewillowsthere]

A chipmunk isn't a unicorn, but it feels the same right now, the same gift, almost holy. He extends his hand, holding his breath without realizing it.

[summerdude]

The chipmunk goes up to Galahad, cautiously.

"He's safe," Magnus says, encouragingly.

None of you are safe, the chipmunk says. Even if you can talk normal. But he has seeds... It darts closer, nose twitching, and grabs the seeds from Galahad's hand before dashing away.

[onthewillowsthere]

"What did it say?"

[summerdude]

"No humans are safe, basically," Magnus says. "But that seeds make up for the risk."

[onthewillowsthere]

That seems fair, honestly. Galahad retrieves his sketchbook, and hopes that Magnus won't mind if they just sit in silence for a while.

[summerdude]

Magnus is totally content with silence. He rolls over to pick some more plants -- long, thin grasses, flowers with hollow and shredding stems, a wiry vine-like thing he doesn't immediately recognize -- and tries to practice what he'd learned about filigree with them It's hard. Plants are nothing like metal, and he has no way of forcing them to stay in place -- though he wonders, idly, if he could summon enough heat to melt metal into place, and then he takes a moment to marvel at the fact that he's been using his alf seidr so much more indiscriminately here than he does in the Nine Worlds. He likes it, though. Wild that peaceful innate Vanir magic is well-suited to times of peace.

The other thing about plants, Magnus is coming to realize, is that they're a lot bigger than tiny little wires. This pattern, which arguably could be used for a circlet, is much more appropriately sized to be a sash, or something like it. He holds it up between himself and Galahad, and squints. Yeah, definitely sash-sized.

[onthewillowsthere]

While Magnus is absorbed in working with the plants, Galahad is sketching them. He's good at copying -- when he doesn't have something in front of him, it's almost impossible to conjure it in his imagination, let alone reproduce it on paper, but when he can see the rose mallow pods on their stalks it feels easy to imitate them. Periodically he takes a drink of his Mountain Dew.

Eventually he feels relaxed enough to say, "Shen Qingqiu and I thought we could have a game night. All three of us, I mean."

[summerdude]

"Oh, that would be awesome," Magnus enthuses. He sits up and drapes his flower sash over Galahad's shoulder. Yeah, that suits the guy.

Fortunately, in the time it takes him to do that, he re-thinks joking about the game night serving as an inaugural meeting of the daddy-and-god-issues club. Instead, he says, "What kind of games were you thinking?"

[onthewillowsthere]

"I don't know any." A brief smile at the flower sash. "I never played games, before."

[summerdude]

"Well, there's board games and there's games of skill," Magnus muses. "And I think sometimes people do storytelling games?" He sits up even straighter. "Oh my gods. Galahad. I want you to absolutely own me at air hockey."