2025-05-28 - Seance Say What?

It’s a Wednesday, which like many other Wednesdays, is unremarkable. Garrett is just walking out of the library with a stack of books in his arms, ready to head to his desk to really dive into the research. Not having the limitations of a language barrier anymore means so many books are open to him without worrying about things becoming lost in translation. It’s probably his favorite part of the islands and his job.

He's dressed for the office in a pair of grey slacks with a matching grey vest over a white button-down shirt. His hair is artfully mussed, and his shoes polished to a shine. He pauses in the lobby to adjust the wobbly stack in his arms.

All days can be remarkable if you make them such. And this Wednesday, at least for Asher, is remarkable merely for the simple fact that it's her day off. The seance was weirder than they were expecting it was going to be, but. It did give at least a little bit of insight into a puzzle that's been eating its way through their brain for days now. They're wearing a fictional band tee - this one harkening to the Magnus Archives with their Griter's Bone tee. It's paired with a black linen blazer, old jeans, and chuck taylors in shades of clearly hand-decorated purples. They've got their canvas bag thrown diagonally across their chest and a notebook in their hands as they wander through the tunnels. Surely 'not a narc' is somewhere down in this mess of warrens, or maybe Elmo, or really anyone that can answer a few lingering questions on Asher's mind that they don't actually have any reasonable reasons to hope someone might answer. But it doesn't stop them from knocking lightly on the door-frame and popping their head in curiously. "Anyone home? And if so... Are you folks taking visitors?"

When Asher enters the office, Garrett turns and holds tilts his head. "I wouldn't call this home, but I am on the clock." He smiles and finds something to set his pile of books on. "I don't think it's really a scheduled visitor place, but I'm still learning my way around here." He offers his hand with a polite smile. "Garrett Llewellyn-Desmond, if I can't help you I can at least point you in the right direction."

Ok. So far so good. No one is yelling at Asher for sticking their nose in, and no one is throwing them out. They're willing to take it, and to push a touch further. They put their notebook into their left hand and offer him their right. "Hey. I'm Asher. It's nice to meet you, I'm hoping." The not being thrown out part is absolutely nice at least. "I've been working with a couple friends on a puzzle they're trying to bang out down here, and, it kind of came up at the seance the other day." It kind of came up because Asher shoved their notebook at a stranger with a written demand for translations. To-may-toe, to-mah-toe. "I was hoping to find out if maybe the notes that spirit mentioned had been found yet, or if there were perhaps other leads?"

Garrett shakes their hand and shrugs his shoulders. "You're hoping it's nice to meet me? That's a first. I suppose I will endeavor to make it a pleasant experience." He doesn't appear to be the throwing out type, more the displaced Professor who doesn't stray far from his books.

"Ah yes that seance was very interesting, I have several notes from the event myself but it was my first so I was more interesting in what the ghost was doing than what was being said." When she asks about the notes he tilts his head. "Not that I've been made aware of, but I'm just an Archivist. Which is a glorified researcher with a fancy title."

There's a grin as he admits that's a first, and a curious brow arches over Asher's gaze. Their eyes are a mercurial silver, shifting and shimmering, appearing to look at things far beneath just their surfaces as she takes him in. "A first that someone's hoped you might be pleasant?" They wear a bright grin and a bit of laughter in their voice to hint they're joking, "Or a first that you're actually going to make the effort to be so?" But since they are here hoping for some rather large favors... They probably shouldn't needle him too very much about it.

When he mentions being an archivist, Asher looks impressed. "I love reading, but, books from a study thing have always been a struggle for me. I've always learned best hands-on. All you actual library types have always seemed fascinating. Seriously, I envy your skillsets. They must come in incredibly useful when trying to crack a puzzle or find that last bit of info that's going to pull the final piece of something together into an answer that makes actual sense."

Garrett shrugs. "I'm usually pleasant, so I don't normally have to use any effort to be found charming. Unless you catch me first thing in the morning before I've had my tea." He notes her eyes and makes a mental note about them. His eyes are normal, but his ears are pointed and he makes no effort to hide them.

"You have to be passionate about the subject. I've spent years studying various bits of folklore and I enjoy learning new stories. I am sure I would be jealous of your skillset, but it may not be something I am fantastic at. That's why teams are important right? Everyone brings something to the table."

Asher files away that fact that he prefers tea. It's always useful to know the right bribes to apply in any certain situations just in case. And they have a feeling that if they keep getting curious about things having nothing to do with their actual job at the park, bribing the Magical Studies' Department's archivist might actually be a worthy hobby to acquire. Asher's eyes are strange, but their hair is stranger. Dark and inky, every move they make slides color over their bob, dark purples, pinks, greens, blues, each moving through their hair like the spill of oil over black ice. They take notice of those points on his ears, but they don't find the courage to ask - at least not yet.

"Stories are wonderful," Asher admits. "I tend to keep on audiobooks in the background any time my attention can be split without causing issues." But when he mentions their skillset? Asher's head shakes. "Mine are nothing for anyone to have envy over. Mostly, they come with far too much adrenaline, and teeth willing to bite far too sharply at the hands that feed them."

"They are. I've written a few books, and it isn't easy, but I've found oral stories to be the best. Ones passed down through generations that morph as time progresses. Granted when I was writing them I had no idea a place like this existed and I wonder how many other places were magical like this but the magic died? I have a lot of research to do." Garrett looks genuinely excited by this.

"It sounds like the sort of job that needs to have a level head. I can't say that I would have the ability to do that. Granted I haven't been in a lot of situations like that, maybe I would surprise myself." Garett looks thoughtful before he gestures toward Asher again. "So you said you had a puzzle?"

When he says he's written a few things, Asher's brows raise again. "Really? Anything I might have heard of? Or, if not... Anything I want to have heard of and need to fill the gaps about?" But when he geeks out about the possibiities of research, they feel that. They also admit, "So far, the magic scares me more than just about anything has. And I think that's because I just don't really grok it yet. So I want to learn more. It's hard to be scared of things once you actually understand them."

But a level head is something Asher has in spades, and it lets them juggle emergency medicine, being the first on ugly scenes, and the teeth of their magic well enough that it hasn't managed to pull them under just yet. But when he asks about their puzzle? Asher opens their notebook. It's the same one they'd passed along to 'not a narc' at the seance. It's got page after page of runes, and a lot of failed attempts at translations. It lays out the theory that they're working with some kind of a rudimentary version of perhaps a GPS. There are sketches here and there between the runes of a very cute rat - The Freak. "When the ghost was asked if he could translate these, he said there was a notebook in the labs." Asher is not a part of the labs, or even the department at all. "I was wondering if maybe anyone had found the files he was referring to?"

"I have a few of my books in on the shelves in the coffee shop slash bookstore. They're mostly narrative folklore stories, but light on the creative liberties. Though nothing compared to what we're learning here. I'll likely write my next book about this place, or at least a redacted version." He nods his head. "Humans always fear what they do not understand. It's what you do with that fear that matters."

Garrett peeks at the notebook as best as he can, noting the runes and of course the rat as well. When she mentions the ghost he nods. "Not to my knowledge, and if they have I am sure they would have come across my desk. Do you have any insights about the sequences in there?"

"I'll have to keep an eye out for a few copies, then." Asher always needs something new to read. But they're at least in agreement on fear, and how best to try and manage it. "I'm not sure I'm ever going to understand what this place does, to any of us, much less what it did to me. But..." They shrug. "Doesn't mean I can't still keep trying to figure it out anyway."

They look disappointed that no one has found the notes mentioned by the ghost, but, also seem a bit unsurprised. Maybe not as quickly as it would have reached his desk, Asher somehow seems like they expected to have known if it had and is more just being thorough and checking the boxes rather than actually hoping for the surprise. As to what insights they do or don't have, though?" They frown, and try to think of how to explain. They take their notebook and flip a few pages.

"I spent a few hours with Dyl and Elmo the other night trying to translate some things. And there's a puzzle pattern, I just haven't found the key to unravel the cypher into something that makes sense." As they talk, they point out a few compuations and translations they tried. There are a few dozen languages at this point in time, each in its own color of ink. But all of them come out into gibberish. They've also tried looking at it as a numerical cipher, and a few other things. "But if it's what Landrydale said... A code of ancient energies, something with a log? Ships have logs. Cars. Trains. Things that travel. It keeps itching at the back of my brain, what if it's some kind of a magical, runic version of some kind of magical GPS long before any of our times, or Landrydale's?"

"My most recent book talks about the history of elves in Iceland. It' was very fascinating to learn their history and how it still effects peoples lives to this day." Garrett leans against one of the near by tables and crosses his arms. He studies the person in front of him and quirks his brow. "What it did to you? Do you think it was a personal attack?"

"Perhaps. That is one theory I've heard bouncing around the office, but whose to say really? Until we can really understand the language it's all speculation right? Sadly these islands didn't come with instruction manuals, and what they talked about in the Q&A didn't really shad a whole lot of light for me either." He shrugs his shoulders before gesturing to the room around them. "Granted I love unraveling a mystery so I can't complain."

There are elves in Iceland? That's absolutely news to Asher. They open their mouth to ask about a billion follow-up questions, but... What did it do to them? And was it personal? Very frequently, they describe their flavor of magic as the kind that came with teeth - and it definitely likes to bite the hand that feeds it. Still. "I'm not really sure that's a 'hey, I'm Asher' first meet kind of conversation..." They're trying to not sound rude about it, but. They weren't exactly looking to talk about their own flavors of Spellbound's strange and it catches them off guard.

They would much rather talk about the languages. "I don't suppose you all know what came of Landrydale's son? Or any of his son's family?" It's clear the ghost was a few generations ago, but. Asher is still trying to figure out all the details, and they're putting them together by crumbs. But there's a hint of a smile that finds the edges of their expression as they admit, "Puzzles are kind of the closest thing I've got to a love language. A good mystery is about the best thing there is, but. They're better when I can actually find a few clues that might eventually solve some of them too..."

Garrett listens to her request and slowly nods his head. “Forgive my curiosity, it’s part of my job. I chronicled a lot of magical changes when I first arrive and it’s a force of habit. However, my question was philosophical. I was more curious that you thought the magical phenomenon we’re all experiencing has any sort of vendetta against someone. A tornado is going to tear a house in two regardless of who owns it.” He shrugs before he returns to the rest of the questions.

“Not that I’ve been informed of. It’s something I plan to look into. They are a very curious family. There has to be a lot in their history that isn’t written down anywhere for us to examine. Hopefully we’ll shed some light on what’s going on.” When she mentions puzzles, he smirks. “It’s a fantastic love language to have. Though I don’t mind banging my head against the wall on something I can’t immediately solve. It makes the solution all the more satisfying when I find it.”

Asher tries to figure out how to word their feelings about magic, and about any vendettas it may or may not have. "I don't know," they admit, their voice soft and rather pensive. "Granted, it's nothing but total conjecture and vibes," they are not part of the MSD and know very little about the truth of any of it. All Asher knows is how it makes them feel. "You're probably right. The storms are going to rage, and it doesn't matter who in the path of it get soaked." They don't think anything is required for someone to be chosen, save for the simple proximity to the park itself. "But, once it's soaked into us..." Is the magic just randomly assigned, or does the person it's soaked into have a strong effect on how it's shown to develop. "Do you really think it's fully random that some people get the deep roots of flowers while others get the broad wings of flight? Is the assignment of fire versus ice just whatever random wellspring was tapped into, or is it something in us that determines what types of it we develop - or don't - once it's picked us?"

Asher also doesn't really know much about the people who first broke ground at Spellbound, about the families who first found the magic - or who the magic first found. There's a hint of a grin when he agrees about the love of a good puzzle, but it turns to a smirk as they suggest, "At least bang your head on something softer. The last thing the headache of a hard puzzle needs is the headache of a concussion to join it." Concussions suck, all the way around. "Trust me. It's way less miserable for me to be dropping in on offices that aren't mine, than to have you or the other folks whose work I keep traipsing in on showing up in mine." The medic really hates seeing their co-workers at the clinic while they're on the clock.

Asher brings up some good questions and Garrett nods. “Who knows? Is it genetic? Something encoded deep in our DNA that dictates what we receive? Or maybe it’s more about vibes. I know that having the ability to read, write and speak multiple languages would have served me well outside of the island. It was a need I had to understand my work. Granted I’m stuck here with that power and it’s useless once the boat crosses the border. At least I can read scans of old books, but I don’t have as much time for my own research as I did.”

He smirks their joke and shrugs his shoulders. “I will do my best to slam my head against soft things when I am frustrated at a puzzle. I don’t envy your position; it must be difficult to deal with injuries all the time. You seem to have a level head and that’s apparently what you need.” Garrett looks toward his forgotten stack of books and gestures to it. “Did you have any other questions? I’m sorry I didn’t have more information for you, but we’re still getting things settled here.”

Genetics are something Asher gets in the basic most fundamental ways, but not in any sorts of depth. "I didn't really take much science past the requirements for Paramedic licensure, but. Yeah. That's kind of what I mean, too. How is it all decided?" He talks about the languages, and a bit of smile finds the corners of their mouth. "Me too." About the languages. "I spoke a handful before getting here, so I didn't even realize at first I was speaking even more." But they did eventually catch on. "Now that Duolingo has gone full evil AI overlord on me, it's useful." Asher is bad at words sometimes, but, they're killer at languages and linguistics.

He talks of envy and positions, and Asher thinks about the parts of their magic that comes with teeth, the part that unlike the languages just usually simply hurts. "I kind of like the regular shifts. Yeah, I catch folks in a lot of their worst moments. But. I get to make those moments better. I leave most days - and people - better they were when I found them." And Asher really loves that part. "But..." They don 't talk about it much, but, more than a handful have seen the blood turn black, the bruises, the wounds that disappear from one body and appear instead upon their own. "The worst ones, the ones that aren't going to make it otherwise... If I'm willing to stomach it... I can take it away, but. Only if I put it somewhere else." Asher could put it anywhere, but they haven't figured out how to pitch to Spellbound a proposal to assign them a terrible, awful, truly abhorant sidekick. So. Asher only uses that 'talent' if they're strong enough to put it into themself instead.

"That may be an answer we'll have to accept to never have." Garrett says with a shrug of his shoulders. When languages are mentioned he nods his head. "Yes, that owl was never my friend and the languages I did speak were nothing that was helpful outside of the countries they came from. Not a whole lot of use for Early Modern English outside of the Globe Theater."

"It's a noble cause that I feel few have the stomach to handle. I know I wouldn't know what to do with a bleeding person outside of what I've seen in television." Garrett looks at them thoughtfully before he reaches for his books again. "That sounds like a difficult situation to be in. Knowing you could help but knowing it would also hurt another. A wicked person would use that toe toe the line with a god complex. I hope we don't have anyone like that here."

"Maybe not," Asher is willing to grant about Early Modern English. "But if I ever get to see Stratford upon Avon with my own two eyes?" Those weirdly silvery pools of shifting mercury, that wouldn't still be silver all the way across that pond, "I'd be damned glad to know it." The Globe is absolutely on their see it some day bucket list.

"I don't know..." Even without magic, plenty of paramedics end up developing a God Complex. Fighting too hard with who lives and who doesn't can really warp some folks. But when he talks about knowing it could help, but knowing it would hurt someone else... Well. He's in the Magical Studies Department. He may well know a lot more about what it is they do, why, and how than even just what Asher has figured out about it so far. "I do the math based on what I can handle. If I can help take enough of it out so they'll pull through, I'll carry what I can of it. But I'm not going to take us both out if it's just too much." The way Asher talks about it, putting it onto anyone else isn't an option in their forms of math at all.

"I forget sometimes how things that were in my preverbal back yard are a novelty over here. I would suggest going if you get the chance, there is nothing like stepping into a bit of history to listen to something ancient." Garrett says with just a hint of nostalgia in his voice. It's clear that there may be a part of him that misses home.

"Not everyone is the same. Granted you really only hear about the bad things people do, more than the good. The angels of death helping someone pass peacefully, or those who see a person what their organs can do, and not the human they are." He nods his head slowly when they make their explanation. "Well you cannot pour from an empty cup, so if you take on too much of someone else you won't be there when you're really needed. So I hope your math is good."

He recommends travel, and Asher nods. "Yeah. I'd love that, some day." They just have to both find the time and have the money. But the nostalgia is evident, and Asher can empathize. It's how they feel when they walk along the lake-front beach. They miss the endless water and tides of the Pacific more than they know how to explain. "Until then, the local Shakespeare in the Park troupes will just have to satisfy the itch for live theatre comprised of mostly dick jokes that somehow still make everyone assume you're an intellectual for enjoying."

Asher isn't fully sure that everything he lists counts as bad in their book... Sometimes, that first can be a mercy, as long as it's a mercy chosen by the person, not for the person. But overall, they understand and agree with the sentiments. As to how good their math is, though? They're smart, and they know they're smart. But formal education never really took. They give a wry bit of laughter, "There's a reason I didn't apply to med school, or even for a two year program. I love to learn a new thing, but, formal classes and my types of neurospicy never mixed quite right. It's safer for everyone when someone else is doing the math." But. In regards to how much they can help without helping into hurt... "But I'm getting better at finding those lines these days."

An alert chimes on their phone, and Asher takes it out. The case is glittery purple and there is a pop socket on the back with pink, aqua, and pink stripes. They swipe the notification clear, but it does let them realize the time. "I'm so sorry." They realize how long they've been standing around chatting over absolutely nothing. "I didn't mean to take up half your day with random bullshit and nonsense. I was just hoping I could figure out the name of the dude from the seance to ask a few follow ups. You've got to be super busy down here. I shouldn't keep taking up more of your day."

"Yes they do a lovely job, the few I've seen at least. Perhaps a company will work it's way through here. That would be a delight." Not that there aren't already several performers doing all the hard work. "If you ever get a chance to see a production in the Original Pronunciation, you should. The dick jokes are far more obvious." It's clear he's seen a few.

Garrett nods his head. "My parents are university professors, so there wasn't really a choice in if I was going to attend, just where. Sadly my field of study isn't as prestigious as they'd like but, it is what it is. Class isn't for everyone and I couldn't see myself teaching half interested students." He says thoughtfully before he nods at their last statement. "Everything is better with practice, or moderation. I can't decide which."

"You're all good. I won't keep you any longer I tend to rattle on endlessly on all varities of topics." He says brightly. If we find anything that is related to that I will do my best to share." He gives them a wave before he gathers his books again.