11-19-2013, 12:33 AM
Nicholas snapped out of idle speculation; these Atharim could wait until he knew more. The man before him was a valuable resource, and now that he could actually think straight it was time to milk Jon for all he was worth. But friendly-like. He's the closest thing to a friend I've got right now.
He didn't know if the familiar warm fingers of alcohol or the friend were more comforting.
"The psychotic cultists can wait, I think."
Jon nodded in agreement. "I need you to teach me as much as you can, and quickly."
He hated the feeling he got when someone nearby was using magic, but he'd have to endure. Still, the thought of being in the same room with it reminded him of nails on a chalkboard. "If my rough estimate's anything to go by Brandon makes you look like a candle in a forest fire."
He paused, and spread his hands. "A big forest fire."
Fact was, it didn't matter if he was insane or not in the grand scheme of things. It was his reality, and he would much rather beat Brandon than watch him take over. The guy really was a jerk.
Jon was visibly intrigued by Nicholas' last comment. "What have you seen him capable of doing that makes you say that?"
Still clearly doubtful, though. Probably felt like a scholar being educated by his student. Which, incidentally, he was.
Funny that he hadn't gotten around to mentioning that until now. "Aside from the worst nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling you can imagine, remember that explosion at the Kremlin?"
Jon clasped his hands together. "Yes...you mentioned I should check the news."
He reached into his pocket and retrieved his Wallet. A couple of taps with his finger later, and his eyebrows lifted. "I see. Honestly, I don't see why it would take a whole lot of strength to do that."
Nicholas laughed at that. "I guess I wouldn't know about what I saw, but I'm pretty sure I can gauge what I felt."
Still, thousands of wires working independently of each other appeared to be quite a feat to him. "I can barely stand it when you have control of the power."
Didn't quite roll off the tongue, but the word power was accurate enough. "When I was in that room I was more than half-ready to jump out of my skin."
Jon nodded and turned to stare Trano in the eyes. "Quite understandable. But you're going to have to overcome that aversion to the sensation."
Suddenly that menacing aura was back, and it centered upon where Jon sat. "It's an advantage to be able to sense the power in another man, don't you see that?"
Nicholas winced. "Feel more than see."
Sighing, he tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. "Needless to say, I have that ability whether I like it or not. It's going to take more than a little pep talk to get used to it."
Jon pursed his lips in thought. "In the courtroom, it can be an easy thing to be distracted by the strength of an opponent's arguments. To be pulled in by his logic, if you will. This is a trap you want to pull your opponent into, but not fall in yourself. A trick to avoiding this is to put yourself in a frame of mind where everything he says is meaningless."
Jon looked about for a moment. "Some more coffee would be nice."
He stood. "Once you get to that point where you know you are going to destroy your opponent, the cards fall as you need them to."
Nicholas could see how that was applicable, even if he didn't entirely agree. "You play the Miyagi role well, Jon."
Still, nothing could beat hands-on experience. Waxing on and off only got you so far. "Although detachment presents its own problems, I think."
Jon made his way to the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee maker. "Miyagi...oh, that old classic movie with the kid who went to China. Yes, I get what you're saying."
The strong aroma of percolating black grounds wafted back into the living room. "Detachment is exactly what you need to go for because it prepares you for whatever stimuli might hit you."
The last thing Nicholas expected was for Jon to start whipping dishes at him. Which, of course, meant that was exactly what Jon decided to do. "Son of a--"
Nicholas barely had a chance to react. When he noticed the dish floating in the air in front of him, he didn't know who was more surprised. "Well."
He snatched the plate out of the air.
Jon poured himself a new cup of coffee without so much as batting an eye. "I would have caught it myself had it been needed...but you did well. Now release the power again, willfully."
The more he worked with the power, the harder it was to let go. Alcohol dulled much of the sensation, but it still felt like ripping off a band-aid. When he finally let it go, it was with an odd feeling of loss. "I'd have expected the dish-throwing from Reed, but not you. Still, thanks for the safety net. What next?"
Jon sipped his coffee. "The first cup is always the best, don't you agree?"
He set the mug down on the kitchen counter. "Sometimes we have to adapt our methods from those we claim to despise because they work. Take the Monga Dai -- Mongolian warriors who yearned to die and so made themselves so tough through self-torture they were practically invincible."
Nicholas could see what he was doing, but that didn't necessarily make it less effective. "I'm not going to stop this one."
At least he had the warning. There was something about the immediacy of the action that made it so easy to respond. No time for thought--pure action. That still left the plate floating only a foot from his face. "Remind me to buy a helmet before the next time we meet."
Jon chuckled. "You might need more than a helmet. But there is a method to this madness."
He took another drink from his mug. "Do you perhaps have a driver handy? Further lessons would probably do better in a more remote location."
Nicholas did have a driver handy. The question was whether he was trustworthy.
He didn't know if the familiar warm fingers of alcohol or the friend were more comforting.
"The psychotic cultists can wait, I think."
Jon nodded in agreement. "I need you to teach me as much as you can, and quickly."
He hated the feeling he got when someone nearby was using magic, but he'd have to endure. Still, the thought of being in the same room with it reminded him of nails on a chalkboard. "If my rough estimate's anything to go by Brandon makes you look like a candle in a forest fire."
He paused, and spread his hands. "A big forest fire."
Fact was, it didn't matter if he was insane or not in the grand scheme of things. It was his reality, and he would much rather beat Brandon than watch him take over. The guy really was a jerk.
Jon was visibly intrigued by Nicholas' last comment. "What have you seen him capable of doing that makes you say that?"
Still clearly doubtful, though. Probably felt like a scholar being educated by his student. Which, incidentally, he was.
Funny that he hadn't gotten around to mentioning that until now. "Aside from the worst nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling you can imagine, remember that explosion at the Kremlin?"
Jon clasped his hands together. "Yes...you mentioned I should check the news."
He reached into his pocket and retrieved his Wallet. A couple of taps with his finger later, and his eyebrows lifted. "I see. Honestly, I don't see why it would take a whole lot of strength to do that."
Nicholas laughed at that. "I guess I wouldn't know about what I saw, but I'm pretty sure I can gauge what I felt."
Still, thousands of wires working independently of each other appeared to be quite a feat to him. "I can barely stand it when you have control of the power."
Didn't quite roll off the tongue, but the word power was accurate enough. "When I was in that room I was more than half-ready to jump out of my skin."
Jon nodded and turned to stare Trano in the eyes. "Quite understandable. But you're going to have to overcome that aversion to the sensation."
Suddenly that menacing aura was back, and it centered upon where Jon sat. "It's an advantage to be able to sense the power in another man, don't you see that?"
Nicholas winced. "Feel more than see."
Sighing, he tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. "Needless to say, I have that ability whether I like it or not. It's going to take more than a little pep talk to get used to it."
Jon pursed his lips in thought. "In the courtroom, it can be an easy thing to be distracted by the strength of an opponent's arguments. To be pulled in by his logic, if you will. This is a trap you want to pull your opponent into, but not fall in yourself. A trick to avoiding this is to put yourself in a frame of mind where everything he says is meaningless."
Jon looked about for a moment. "Some more coffee would be nice."
He stood. "Once you get to that point where you know you are going to destroy your opponent, the cards fall as you need them to."
Nicholas could see how that was applicable, even if he didn't entirely agree. "You play the Miyagi role well, Jon."
Still, nothing could beat hands-on experience. Waxing on and off only got you so far. "Although detachment presents its own problems, I think."
Jon made his way to the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee maker. "Miyagi...oh, that old classic movie with the kid who went to China. Yes, I get what you're saying."
The strong aroma of percolating black grounds wafted back into the living room. "Detachment is exactly what you need to go for because it prepares you for whatever stimuli might hit you."
The last thing Nicholas expected was for Jon to start whipping dishes at him. Which, of course, meant that was exactly what Jon decided to do. "Son of a--"
Nicholas barely had a chance to react. When he noticed the dish floating in the air in front of him, he didn't know who was more surprised. "Well."
He snatched the plate out of the air.
Jon poured himself a new cup of coffee without so much as batting an eye. "I would have caught it myself had it been needed...but you did well. Now release the power again, willfully."
The more he worked with the power, the harder it was to let go. Alcohol dulled much of the sensation, but it still felt like ripping off a band-aid. When he finally let it go, it was with an odd feeling of loss. "I'd have expected the dish-throwing from Reed, but not you. Still, thanks for the safety net. What next?"
Jon sipped his coffee. "The first cup is always the best, don't you agree?"
He set the mug down on the kitchen counter. "Sometimes we have to adapt our methods from those we claim to despise because they work. Take the Monga Dai -- Mongolian warriors who yearned to die and so made themselves so tough through self-torture they were practically invincible."
Nicholas could see what he was doing, but that didn't necessarily make it less effective. "I'm not going to stop this one."
At least he had the warning. There was something about the immediacy of the action that made it so easy to respond. No time for thought--pure action. That still left the plate floating only a foot from his face. "Remind me to buy a helmet before the next time we meet."
Jon chuckled. "You might need more than a helmet. But there is a method to this madness."
He took another drink from his mug. "Do you perhaps have a driver handy? Further lessons would probably do better in a more remote location."
Nicholas did have a driver handy. The question was whether he was trustworthy.