MrTophat
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Left to his own devices, Bubkiss did his best to examine how the illusion performed as he passed through it.
“Distance of composure are perfect, there's no refraction that's bleeding out, it's all contained as if it were a, well. A pressure pot is all I can think of right now. All cooking away and sustaining itself. There's hiding the raw quality on display, yes, these colours aren't dimmed or subdued, they shine almost. Finding a signature isn't going to be easy. But I have to try. Most people don't compliment the chef, let alone compliment their kitchen.”
He patted his belly a few times and then shook his head.
“Goodness me, all this talk of food. I must have done to bed hungry. No, best not think of the waking world Bubkiss. There's a master at play and I must draw my own deck to discern what's afoot. Now.”
Like a gold panner within a stream, Bubkiss found himself hunching down, as if swirling a small element of the dreamscape within his cupped hands so that he might glean a reflection that meant so much more. “A technique for discerning the sheen of possibility about the weave of reality so inversed and unyielding here, so well protected and reinforced, yes, and then, well, the rest might follow. And then, we might have a clue as to who might be behind this minor miracle.”
It was a technique for when one was firmly drenched in the stuff of magic, to examine the components each in turn as they faded and returned. It had been taught to Bubkiss initially to allow himself to navigate in the raw stuff of illusionary magic, so that he might lend his hand to construction of artefacts so imbued with some illusionary effect or purpose. Bathed in the stuff of illusion he might pluck at particular sections of it and reform it to his own devices, allowing the master and the apprentice to work in some harmony. But this time was different. Bubkiss only wished to know who was behind all of this, seeing as the signature was hidden. As so many illusionists were want to do.
Like examining a distant star through telescope, or perhaps a detailed coin underneath a magnifying glass, Bubkiss peered at a small mote of the magic on display. But just as Bubkiss was sifted through the artistry to reveal his first glimpse of the macro interactions of the weave, a flash of spider's webs explained themselves to him. His eyes immediately went up as the hair on his neck raised at such a phenomenon, such a revealing of the inner structure of the dreamscape. He said a word instinctually.
“Batak.”
A triggering word of a cantrip. The lines of power faded from view, yet Bubkiss smiled.
“Gracious, you just...you just helped me out here. Most kind performer, you pull back the curtain for me to watch backstage, even just for an instant. But it's not as simple as stepping through, is it? I won't pass this chance up, no sir. I want to see more.”
Bubkiss raised himself to his full height, which was not very tall at all, and all notions of being hungry had faded from the fellow. He raised his cane and began to speak, his voice speaking quietly, as if not to draw too much attention to himself. A far cry from his normal performances for an audience, this time, he was an audience member trying to get behind the scenes.
“And now within this illusion be, sketch out what I did see, with light and dimension, let there be no pretension, let me see what was revealed so short ago with chance for reflection. Batak and hurrah!”
Bubkiss formed his hand as someone trying to frame a picture might, and expanded it outwards. Purple lines formed a cube in front of him, shimmering with light. It was a facsimile of what his eyes had just seen in the sudden flash of magic.
The glimpse of the framework, silvery lined and sudden in revealing themselves, now was emulated within the purple frame of light that Bubkiss had constructed. His eyes glowed a pale purple that matched the colour of the construction he had created for himself.
“Ahh, well. Now this...this is no doubt a masterpiece. And what do we have here?”
Bubkiss placed hand to chin and stroked his beard, and looked at the three dimensional snapshot for long moments, before tapping the cane down in the ground to punctuate his thoughts.
“A glimmer. Or rather...I should say some element of glamour. Yes. Hmm. This is powerful magic indeed, perhaps...perhaps not from mortal hand. And if you line up the lines according to the replenish rate, and view it from, yes, here, it reveals...A word. Meaning royalty. A title. King or Queen? One of the two. Royalty! But that's just the beginning of it. Titles are easier to discern along this path of investigation, usually employed by guild mages of some rank, but I've never...I've never seen a member of royalty's work! Goodness me!”
Bubkiss clasped his hands together, leaving the cane to stand perfectly on its own as he collapsed his own construction. He noticed how easy it was to create and disassemble in here. The place was rich and fertile for an imagination to grasp upon.
The gnome walked for a time, slowly, his head turning from side to side so that he might see the architecture as he moved. The light changed as he passed, and it gave him another insight as he travelled.
From within his jacket, he reached in his pocket for a tool. Normally, he was armed to the teeth with various implements of the craft. But here, dressed in fineries, he had but his own wit and arcane senses.
“So, it's a test then, of sorts. No mirrors. No gems. None of my usual lark to determine and shape things. Just like with Master Murk to begin with. Very well, very well! I'll rise to the occasion then.”
The gnome approached a statue of bronze and rubbed his chin for a moment as he considered the object.
“This might work. Got to try it. Got to try something.”
Bubkiss placed the cane a foot away from himself and extended both hands so that they were thrust outwards to the statue, as if he might catch it should it fall.
“With light gnawing at my frame, with magic containing this game, with curiosity being my motivation, let my will bring forth from imagination, in this place belonging to royalty, help discern the name for me!”
Bubkiss's hands began to glow with white light, and tendrils of light span and wove out from him in elegant spirals. The statue he had been addressing was being recreated within the statue itself, and expanded so that the two shimmered in the same location. Bubkiss took long seconds to create the illusion of the illusion, and ensured that he had created it according to the same dimensions and alignment.
“There,” Bubkiss said, smiling.
“Now, time to...just...transpose my illusion from the copy of this illusion, and see if we can just, discover, a little something more,” Bubkiss said, his brow furrowed as he fought with the cosmic weight of the illusion he was working from. He was not being violent in his arcane approach, indeed, this was a way of isolating but a fragment of the weave, an object, so that he might understand the nature of construction better.
“Ah, ah ha. I see. I see!” Bubkiss said after a minute of deliberations and changing his own illusion's alignment and he at once felt an urge to go back to sleep. As if the effort had made him drowsy.
He shook his head and blinked a few times.
“Knee deep in illusions I can't fall asleep twice,” Bubkiss said to himself with determination.
He collapsed his own illusion and nodded his head at his findings.
“Queen M. I have a first letter. I feel I'm getting closer to who's behind all of this artistry. Queen M huh? Marvellous.” Bubkiss said to himself, and began to walk away from the statue, as if the question might open a new door for him. He let his feet do some walking for a time, as if he might discover a place closer to where his host might be.
He felt the presence of a few people as he walked forward, as if he was somewhere between places. As if he had discovered a tunnel to go underneath the party itself, or if he were somehow in the rafters. Time and space had a strange way of working when one was probing for answers within the raw fabric of reality. He knew that this was a dangerous game, and if he should trip and fall he might ruin something about the illusion. But his mind was sharp to the task, and he felt the laylines underneath him and work around him. His divinations granted him an awareness of how to move. Sounds of an argument were muffled, a server passed through him without noticing him, and Bubkiss felt a shiver about himself as it happened.
He reached for a tendril of magic light, dipped his hand behind it, and sent a message across it in three pulses of golden light. It would find the author perhaps as it ran through the circulatory system of the magic. He was closer now to the thrumming engine of illusion, and due to this, was closer to the structure that gave this place form and dimension. Bubkiss would be unsure if it would reach the author of this place, but had to try some means of direct communication by the raw stuff of magic. He spoke softly, with respect, and with reverence.
“To the Queen who directs this scene, I give pause within this dream, for I wish to thank you for entertaining my presence and direction. I mean no poor manners, no disaffection, I'm a simple man, of limited invention. My own magic be a paltry thing in comparison to your own, I am one Bubkiss Widewallow, and I'll walk alone, til I find your authorship complete, so let it be known. Don't let me distract from your intention, I am but a humble illusionist, awash with good impression.”
“Distance of composure are perfect, there's no refraction that's bleeding out, it's all contained as if it were a, well. A pressure pot is all I can think of right now. All cooking away and sustaining itself. There's hiding the raw quality on display, yes, these colours aren't dimmed or subdued, they shine almost. Finding a signature isn't going to be easy. But I have to try. Most people don't compliment the chef, let alone compliment their kitchen.”
He patted his belly a few times and then shook his head.
“Goodness me, all this talk of food. I must have done to bed hungry. No, best not think of the waking world Bubkiss. There's a master at play and I must draw my own deck to discern what's afoot. Now.”
Like a gold panner within a stream, Bubkiss found himself hunching down, as if swirling a small element of the dreamscape within his cupped hands so that he might glean a reflection that meant so much more. “A technique for discerning the sheen of possibility about the weave of reality so inversed and unyielding here, so well protected and reinforced, yes, and then, well, the rest might follow. And then, we might have a clue as to who might be behind this minor miracle.”
It was a technique for when one was firmly drenched in the stuff of magic, to examine the components each in turn as they faded and returned. It had been taught to Bubkiss initially to allow himself to navigate in the raw stuff of illusionary magic, so that he might lend his hand to construction of artefacts so imbued with some illusionary effect or purpose. Bathed in the stuff of illusion he might pluck at particular sections of it and reform it to his own devices, allowing the master and the apprentice to work in some harmony. But this time was different. Bubkiss only wished to know who was behind all of this, seeing as the signature was hidden. As so many illusionists were want to do.
Like examining a distant star through telescope, or perhaps a detailed coin underneath a magnifying glass, Bubkiss peered at a small mote of the magic on display. But just as Bubkiss was sifted through the artistry to reveal his first glimpse of the macro interactions of the weave, a flash of spider's webs explained themselves to him. His eyes immediately went up as the hair on his neck raised at such a phenomenon, such a revealing of the inner structure of the dreamscape. He said a word instinctually.
“Batak.”
A triggering word of a cantrip. The lines of power faded from view, yet Bubkiss smiled.
“Gracious, you just...you just helped me out here. Most kind performer, you pull back the curtain for me to watch backstage, even just for an instant. But it's not as simple as stepping through, is it? I won't pass this chance up, no sir. I want to see more.”
Bubkiss raised himself to his full height, which was not very tall at all, and all notions of being hungry had faded from the fellow. He raised his cane and began to speak, his voice speaking quietly, as if not to draw too much attention to himself. A far cry from his normal performances for an audience, this time, he was an audience member trying to get behind the scenes.
“And now within this illusion be, sketch out what I did see, with light and dimension, let there be no pretension, let me see what was revealed so short ago with chance for reflection. Batak and hurrah!”
Bubkiss formed his hand as someone trying to frame a picture might, and expanded it outwards. Purple lines formed a cube in front of him, shimmering with light. It was a facsimile of what his eyes had just seen in the sudden flash of magic.
The glimpse of the framework, silvery lined and sudden in revealing themselves, now was emulated within the purple frame of light that Bubkiss had constructed. His eyes glowed a pale purple that matched the colour of the construction he had created for himself.
“Ahh, well. Now this...this is no doubt a masterpiece. And what do we have here?”
Bubkiss placed hand to chin and stroked his beard, and looked at the three dimensional snapshot for long moments, before tapping the cane down in the ground to punctuate his thoughts.
“A glimmer. Or rather...I should say some element of glamour. Yes. Hmm. This is powerful magic indeed, perhaps...perhaps not from mortal hand. And if you line up the lines according to the replenish rate, and view it from, yes, here, it reveals...A word. Meaning royalty. A title. King or Queen? One of the two. Royalty! But that's just the beginning of it. Titles are easier to discern along this path of investigation, usually employed by guild mages of some rank, but I've never...I've never seen a member of royalty's work! Goodness me!”
Bubkiss clasped his hands together, leaving the cane to stand perfectly on its own as he collapsed his own construction. He noticed how easy it was to create and disassemble in here. The place was rich and fertile for an imagination to grasp upon.
The gnome walked for a time, slowly, his head turning from side to side so that he might see the architecture as he moved. The light changed as he passed, and it gave him another insight as he travelled.
From within his jacket, he reached in his pocket for a tool. Normally, he was armed to the teeth with various implements of the craft. But here, dressed in fineries, he had but his own wit and arcane senses.
“So, it's a test then, of sorts. No mirrors. No gems. None of my usual lark to determine and shape things. Just like with Master Murk to begin with. Very well, very well! I'll rise to the occasion then.”
The gnome approached a statue of bronze and rubbed his chin for a moment as he considered the object.
“This might work. Got to try it. Got to try something.”
Bubkiss placed the cane a foot away from himself and extended both hands so that they were thrust outwards to the statue, as if he might catch it should it fall.
“With light gnawing at my frame, with magic containing this game, with curiosity being my motivation, let my will bring forth from imagination, in this place belonging to royalty, help discern the name for me!”
Bubkiss's hands began to glow with white light, and tendrils of light span and wove out from him in elegant spirals. The statue he had been addressing was being recreated within the statue itself, and expanded so that the two shimmered in the same location. Bubkiss took long seconds to create the illusion of the illusion, and ensured that he had created it according to the same dimensions and alignment.
“There,” Bubkiss said, smiling.
“Now, time to...just...transpose my illusion from the copy of this illusion, and see if we can just, discover, a little something more,” Bubkiss said, his brow furrowed as he fought with the cosmic weight of the illusion he was working from. He was not being violent in his arcane approach, indeed, this was a way of isolating but a fragment of the weave, an object, so that he might understand the nature of construction better.
“Ah, ah ha. I see. I see!” Bubkiss said after a minute of deliberations and changing his own illusion's alignment and he at once felt an urge to go back to sleep. As if the effort had made him drowsy.
He shook his head and blinked a few times.
“Knee deep in illusions I can't fall asleep twice,” Bubkiss said to himself with determination.
He collapsed his own illusion and nodded his head at his findings.
“Queen M. I have a first letter. I feel I'm getting closer to who's behind all of this artistry. Queen M huh? Marvellous.” Bubkiss said to himself, and began to walk away from the statue, as if the question might open a new door for him. He let his feet do some walking for a time, as if he might discover a place closer to where his host might be.
He felt the presence of a few people as he walked forward, as if he was somewhere between places. As if he had discovered a tunnel to go underneath the party itself, or if he were somehow in the rafters. Time and space had a strange way of working when one was probing for answers within the raw fabric of reality. He knew that this was a dangerous game, and if he should trip and fall he might ruin something about the illusion. But his mind was sharp to the task, and he felt the laylines underneath him and work around him. His divinations granted him an awareness of how to move. Sounds of an argument were muffled, a server passed through him without noticing him, and Bubkiss felt a shiver about himself as it happened.
He reached for a tendril of magic light, dipped his hand behind it, and sent a message across it in three pulses of golden light. It would find the author perhaps as it ran through the circulatory system of the magic. He was closer now to the thrumming engine of illusion, and due to this, was closer to the structure that gave this place form and dimension. Bubkiss would be unsure if it would reach the author of this place, but had to try some means of direct communication by the raw stuff of magic. He spoke softly, with respect, and with reverence.
“To the Queen who directs this scene, I give pause within this dream, for I wish to thank you for entertaining my presence and direction. I mean no poor manners, no disaffection, I'm a simple man, of limited invention. My own magic be a paltry thing in comparison to your own, I am one Bubkiss Widewallow, and I'll walk alone, til I find your authorship complete, so let it be known. Don't let me distract from your intention, I am but a humble illusionist, awash with good impression.”
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