thecapitol | The Binding of Isaac

Entry tags:

The Binding of Isaac

Who| All those who signed up for the plot!
What| Capitol rebels attempt a break in and dismantling of dangerous weaponry.
Where| In a warehouse just beyond the very end of the cityline
When| Some time following Arena 13
WARNINGS| Please specify warnings in tag headers.
NOTES | Remember that if you did not sign up, it will be assumed you are not participating in the plot. Plotting can be found here! IC plotting is here!

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"Man, I don't have any of that stuff!" Nitou waves the thought away. "I got my powers from Chimera in some ancient ruins, and then I became a wizard!" Seems legit, right?

"Well, that was just downright dangerous!" Merlyn's voice is downright scolding. "And certainly no reason to call yourself a wizard! Good gracious, if that were all it took, any by-our-lady hedge magician could call himself a wizard! Have you ever had any proper training at all, young man?"

"Of course it was dangerous! The more danger there is, the more opportunity there is!" What is caution? Can you eat it? "And I don't need training--I've defeated a bunch of Phantoms anyway, so I'm good! Super good!"

"Do you think that's all there is to being a wizard?" Merlyn appears to have entirely forgotten the whole 'revolution' thing, in favour of standing with his hands on his hips and his legs akimbo, staring down at Nitou in genuine horror. "Defeating things? Hitting about at danger, like some kind of... of knight? No, no, my dear boy. This simply cannot stand!"

"Exactly! Defeating things and hitting stuff!" Nitou pauses to think about this. "Kind of knightlike, I guess, with the way I transform..." The genuine horror there gives him pause, because the stuff he's talking about is perfectly normal. "Who made you the wizard police, anyway?"

"Police? Good grief! How dare you?" Merlyn does not approve of police. He also doesn't approve of Nitou's tone of voice. "Young man, you don't mean to tell me that your immediate response to having the power to alter the very fabric of reality was to... to..." He splutters. "...To shadowbox?!"

"Yes!" Nitou nods enthusiastically. "Pretty much!" He pauses, thinking on this. "Only I'm more Phantom-boxing, I guess!" He is also pleased with his own joke, for yes, he uses his powers to fight Phantoms, that's a thing.

Of course, the old dude's still pretty worked up. "So what's the big deal?"

"What's the big..." Merlyn splutters again, looking very red in the face. "The "big deal", young man, is that that is precisely not what magic is for! Why, if everyone with magic used it that way, the world would be a wasteland in no time at all! Has no-one ever taught you moderation?"

"Then what is it for?" Because where he comes from, this is all a perfectly normal use of magic. "Wizards fight Phantoms, that's how it works!"

That last question does get him to stop and consider things. "I guess Grandma tried..."

"Poor woman," Merlyn says, with feeling. Sighing, he polishes his pince-nez, settles them on his nose, and says sternly, "The purpose of magic, young man, is to exist. That's the purpose of most things. But the purpose of using magic, now, that's what we're addressing here, isn't it? I shouldn't have to spoon-feed you this. What happened to a decent education?" He frowns deeply, steepling his fingers in front of him. "Magic may be used for good or evil, for Black or White, but it must always, always be used with an eye to keeping things in balance. Otherwise, we should never stop. In any case, I despair of anyone whose first defence of violence it 'that's how it works'."

Really, Nitou's grandma would appreciate that feeling. "So, what am I supposed to do if a Phantom's attacking someone?" Nitou protests. "Just let it go, because fighting's not a thing?" It's clear from his tone that he kind of thinks Merlyn's crazy. "And how would I eat, anyway?"

"How would you..." Merlyn splutters, again. "Castor and Pollux blow me to Bermuda! I'm not espousing ascetism, or even veganism! I'm simply telling you that there are other means of conflict resolution than laying about you with magic as if it were some kind of... of... of troglodytic club! That isn't wizardry, young man, that's thuggishness!"

"It's not thuggishness!" Nitou protests. "I don't know how else you'd stop Phantoms from attacking Gates, and I don't know how else I'd get Phantoms to eat!" Geez, old man, cut him some slack.

"You might try," Merlyn suggests sternly, peering over his glasses, "not eating Phantoms. Most of us do quite well on bread and butter, you know."

Nitou huffs indignantly. "Most people won't die if they don't eat Phantoms." He sort of waves a hand around. "It's different with whatever they've got to shut our powers off, at least."

Merlyn frowns, then slowly raises one bushy eyebrow. "What kind of wizard are you?" he demands after a moment, hands on his hips.

"An ancient one!" Nitou grins and slaps his stomach. "Chimera's pretty old, so I'm using ancient magic."

Yes, yes, this is all perfectly normal even if he's dancing around a few obvious questions. Relax, old man, he's got this.

"Ancient," Merlyn repeats. If his voice were any flatter, it would be measurable in two dimensions. "And just what, in your estimation, does that mean? Pre-medieval? Pre-Neolithic? Prehistoric? You are being profoundly obfuscating, young man, and I can't say I appreciate it."

"I dunno," Nitou says breezily, "a few thousand years ago. I'd ask Chimera, but he's sleeping." He slaps his stomach. "All it means is that I use Chimera's magic, and I gotta keep him fed in return! Relax!"

Merlyn does not relax. If anything, he tenses even more, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. "From what you are telling me," he says, very slowly, "it sounds rather as though you have a demon living in you. Not that I am averse to that practice. I know many wizards who have lived full, if not very happy, lives with demons as their primary companionship. Still, I hope I am mistaken."

"I dunno that I'd call him primary companionship." Nitou paused. "Or a demon. He's just Chimera."

"And what, pray tell, is Chimera?" Merlyn clicks his tongue. "I assume not the mythological being. He might have some trouble fitting in your stomach, after all."

"He's kinda like a lion with parts of some other animals," Nitou says, looking down at his stomach, "and he kinda got in there with a magic belt, so he can so fit." Magic. It explains so much.

That does get Merlyn's attention. His eyebrows rise to his hairline, or at least where his hairline might have been before it started receding centuries ago, and he clears his throat. "Oh. Oh, how fascinating. So it is the Chimaera of legend?"

"I guess so!" Nitou says cheerfully. "I dunno how legends work on different worlds and stuff, but he was definitely a big deal a long time ago."

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knittingbackwards - 2015-05-24 23:09 (UTC) - Expand

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infinitemayonnaise - 2015-05-25 01:48 (UTC) - Expand

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