we_bring_hell | (no subject)

You would need an advanced degree in Nonagesamics to realize that Harrowhark is ecstatically happy this morning, but even the layman can tell that her usual spikes are retracted somewhat. Not the spikes on her boots--Gideon liked these boots, and she has no intention of wearing anything else for a while. But the metaphorical spikes.

Aside from her boots she is back in her standard habit--black trousers, black long-sleeve shirt with the high collar. No gloves. Her hair is freshly cropped back to her scalp. Her face is painted with exceptional care, in what Harrow considers the sexiest pattern, because Harrowhark has opinions about things like that. This one is called The Chain and has considerable, immodest flourishes. She has edged the perimeter of the painted skull with midnight purples and deep blood reds, an even greater departure from propriety.

She is writing in her journal, and since she writes in code there is no way anyone can tell she has doodled One Flesh One End approximately one hundred times. She has been eating oatmeal, and by God she even ate the raisins.

Things are good. For now, for once, things are good.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

""Hm," she says. She's not sure she'd like Gideon to be able to sense her emotional state, anyway.

"Interesting. But you are correct, to even establish it one of us would have to be carrying a heavy load of thanergy--dying, in other words. Let alone to continue powering it."

"Although I believe Gideon would give much to be able to find me at will."

She nods.

"I suspect that a simple Spirit ward would be more appropriate for the experimentation you propose."

"Is there one you could share that would be appropriate?" she asks.

"Yes," she says, simply, and turns to a blank page in her journal. Moiraine starts to sketch a diagram as she explains,

"I have used it to ward a location, such as a campsite, that I might know if anyone or anything attempted to enter or leave."

She pauses for a moment, and points her pen at the plate of food, then at Harrow.

"Replenish your resources, while I draw this."

She ducks her head at the gentle direction, and picks up a piece of bread. She appreciates Moiraine's framing of the matter, at least.

She makes her way through the bread and tries a piece of melon, finding it pleasantly mild in flavor and not excessively sweet.

"Moiraine Sedai, may I ask -- do you have a Warder at present? I know it is not part of the traditions of the world you call home now..."

“I do not,” she says.

“There is someone who acts as a guard, as needed, but we have not implemented the Warder’s bond.”

She nods at that, and falls silent while she does her best to eat a little more. She seems to acquire more concerned parties by the day. It is... surprisingly pleasant, in a way, although raises concerns in another. But she likely has at least another few weeks before it can become a problem.

She finishes drawing the diagram, creases the page, and tears it neatly out of her journal. Moiraine passes it over to Harrow.

She inclines her head, and reviews the diagram to be sure it's clear to her before she stows it away.

"My thanks."

She makes to rise from the table. "I should record these experiences while they remain fresh in my mind, and give you back your day. Go well, Moiraine Sedai."

“And you, Harrow. Walk ever in Light.”