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File #006 voice;
Loki! Loki! We did it! HaHA! I knew we could do it. I only electrocuted myself once. Where are you? Come find me immediately!
Also whoever told me Loki wasn't real, you're a liar and liars never prosper. [Hrmph, so rude. It's almost enough to dampen his excitement at finishing one of his projects - almost. He's been working as apothecary, but it isn't the same as making something so new as an energy shield.]
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There have been a lot of birthdays lately. I suppose it makes sense. Summer does tend to make people horny.
Happy birthday to all the May babies!
Also whoever told me Loki wasn't real, you're a liar and liars never prosper. [Hrmph, so rude. It's almost enough to dampen his excitement at finishing one of his projects - almost. He's been working as apothecary, but it isn't the same as making something so new as an energy shield.]
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There have been a lot of birthdays lately. I suppose it makes sense. Summer does tend to make people horny.
Happy birthday to all the May babies!
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He keeps a hold of Walter's arm until he's steady.]
Not tired yet, but this takes rather a lot of energy because of the power limit on the barrier. All it takes is a talent with magics and sufficient practice.
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[Fascinating... He wonders if September can do the same thing.]
I'm loathe to call it magic, but considering I would need to do more research until the root of your ability is found, I'll consent for now. So it draws upon your own life force? Or is it more like...your energy? Such as when an athlete exhausts himself?
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I merely call it magic to simplify the discussion. Everything I do, I can describe to you with equations. [He grins.] I merely tell the waves and particles where I wish them to be, and they do as they are told.
And yes... like an athlete. I can exhaust myself in that fashion.
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It would certainly fall in line with the theory of godhood. A primitive people would have seen your abilities and attributed them to being beyond that of anything any mortal could possess.
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And really, Walter, humans of that age weren't at all difficult to impress.
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...
Although I do find myself very partial to the ass-warmers in car seats now. They didn't have those when I went into St. Clair's.
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Oh, that does sound pleasant.
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[He can be nice, but on the whole, the population is too timid, too afraid of taking risks and making their own way for his liking. It makes him decidedly unhappy to see how the world went and lost its nerve after the 70s.]
But they did do that one thing right at least. It's too bad there are no cars here. I liked the seat warmers.
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I don't think there's really enough room here to warrant cars. But I've never liked them. [Well, he likes blowing them up. They explode so nicely.]
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[His busted up old station wagon. Perfect for hauling things.
He looks out over the mountainside and then steps back, pulling his hat down. He misses a lot of things, if he thinks about it.]
She didn't have seat warmers though. That was far after her time.
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Ah, an older car, then.
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[Like all the anti-psychotics he self-prescribes.]
I think I'm perfectly fine to drive, but for some reason my body doesn't quite listen.
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Hm. Curious. And that must be very annoying. Driving seems important to humans.
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I've been getting better - hopefully soon I won't have as many problems as I had in the past. I've been-- I had been practicing. Driving myself places is about independence. It means I can do things by myself, the ability to no longer rely on those around me to have to clean up after me anymore. I may be old, but I'm hardly useless.
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Ah... yes, I think I understand that. Rather like how I feel about having my own horse. Such things are important. So many wish to control us by telling us where we can and cannot go. It's maddening.
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[He folds his hands behind his back then changes his mind, wringing them in front of him, right hand holding the left.]
But yes, you are right, it's maddening... I have to take taxis everywhere unless my son drives me or I walk. And sometimes when I walk I get lost. Or rather, I discover new paths. Sometimes I would go and watch the fish tank in the cafeteria, help the person there who cleaned them, and wait until dawn. The early hours are more conducive to expanded thought...
[He's feeling homesick suddenly and frowns to himself, muttering numbers under his breath.]
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[He looks at Walter curiously.] Walking one's own way is really the better policy.
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...I'd never forgive myself.
[Oh, did he say that out loud? He looks up, confused.]
But yes, no, I have to walk my own path. There's only one for me to take and I can't step off it now.
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Mmm. I know that feeling well. Though there are always other paths. They might just not be the ones you like best.
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...and perhaps I should correct myself. There is only one feasible path.
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[He files the other thing away for later poking. No need to rush right now. He'll have all the secrets in the end.]
And this is a feeling I share. Some paths must be traversed completely if one wishes to survive.
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The entire world. Not just our world. All worlds. We have to survive.
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