magicallystrange (
magicallystrange) wrote in
all_inclusive2016-06-22 08:11 pm
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In the end, it's Jonathan's mad attempt to bring himself closer to Arabella that foists him forward into a mad arrangement of lights, music, people! He knows that sanity lingers just out of mind and that he will have to capture it back, but once he travels once more on this strange road (through a door and not a mirror), he thinks that if he cannot bring himself to Arabella, perhaps he can bring the fairy folk to him.
Jonathan Strange will host a party so luxurious and wonderful that they have no choice but to attend.
He uses magic to deck the lobby of the hotel with shimmering lights and stars that hang upon the ceiling in constellations and patterns that cannot possibly exist. Food dots each corner, but if the eye were to catch it properly, it would be noted that it's slightly off. The drink, however, is exact in its sumptuous rich red tones and sparkling vivacious notes.
Best of all, there is the music.
Harps and lutes and violins accompany the piano and encourage those to dance. More than that, the spell that Jonathan weaves ensures that all who pass the lobby feel the need to mingle and dance, not allowing for anyone to dawdle.
Arabella will come to him now. He knows it. He must only wait.
And there will be a party to maintain until then.
Jonathan Strange will host a party so luxurious and wonderful that they have no choice but to attend.
He uses magic to deck the lobby of the hotel with shimmering lights and stars that hang upon the ceiling in constellations and patterns that cannot possibly exist. Food dots each corner, but if the eye were to catch it properly, it would be noted that it's slightly off. The drink, however, is exact in its sumptuous rich red tones and sparkling vivacious notes.
Best of all, there is the music.
Harps and lutes and violins accompany the piano and encourage those to dance. More than that, the spell that Jonathan weaves ensures that all who pass the lobby feel the need to mingle and dance, not allowing for anyone to dawdle.
Arabella will come to him now. He knows it. He must only wait.
And there will be a party to maintain until then.
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Will he need Norrell to separate the two of them? No, such thoughts are not for now, not even with a mad mind.
"Pardon me," he says to the passing person. "Might I trouble you to try this and tell me what it tastes like?" he says, thrusting the cheese out in his palm.
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"I don't understand," he says flatly and bluntly. "I've never heard of one of those before." He's here searching for fairies and has cast a spell specifically for that purpose. He's even enchanted the music to play precisely as it might on the Kings' Roads. "Why are you here then? Were you not summoned?"
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"No, wait! Wait!" he summons, because she might not be a fairy, but she can still tell him whether his party is suitable enough to attract those from the realms who might be wandering without purpose. "Please, taste this. If they are to come, I must have the food prepared so they won't leave immediately and I get my chance."
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"I believe I mentioned the madness robbing me of my taste?" he replies, given that it is a rather offensively annoying business, not being able to taste anything the way it's meant to. Then again, perhaps eating mice is a surefire way to ruin's ones taste buds for all time.
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He blinks, staring at her and waiting for the words to make sense. "I'm sorry, did you speak gibberish or am I hearing it?" he asks bluntly. "I'm afraid I haven't exactly been able to take stock of the various subtleties of what I'm undergoing."
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Animals. Milk made from animals. He knows this one, he knows this. "Cheese!" he says suddenly. "Yes, that's it, no, wait, that wasn't supposed to be it. It wasn't supposed to taste like that, it was supposed to be a pie." His face falls and wonders if his madness is affecting his magic in ways that he doesn't yet understand.
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"Through the will and determination of my magic, yes," he agrees, taking credit for the feat with a graceful bow of his body. He's had to tap into any number of spells that would likely have Norrell's head spinning, but he will do anything in order to fetch his wife back to him.
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She still thinks he's a little fahrbot, but she doesn't mind, as long as he isn't the dangerous sort of fahrbot. Not to her, anyway.
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He keeps his hopes up, but the more he looks around and search for women, none of them are Arabella. That's a problem, which means that he's expended a great deal of energy and manipulated the universe and what is it all for? Nothing, yet.
"Do you like to eat anything in particular?"
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When through, he holds it out to her and waits expectantly. "I'm fairly sure it's not poisonous."
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It might not be spicy enough for her taste, but she's still going to enjoy it.
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"They're both enchanted, but you should still feel a want to dance," he says with a frown, wondering if he's somehow managed to muck it all up and divert the energy in his new creation.
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"Only a little," he confesses. "It's meant to draw out those who enjoy such songs and tunes, so they will come out of the roads and come to this party. It has a similar effect on mortals of all walks of life, I'm afraid."
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It takes a little focus, but he works to create an isolated spot around her that won't let the music impact her. With a nod of his head, he gives her an encouraging look. "There. It should be gone, now, so the effects will be minimal to null."
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"Ah, but you have the name and the look of a fairy," he says, no longer suspicious but teasing. "How can you doubt that I had mistaken you for one, then?"
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"I've never been called an Earthan before. I'm English," he says, wondering what on earth ... oh, there it is. How clever! Strange refrains from giggling, but that's the madness at play. He's much more in control than that, normally. "Well, do you wish to eat more of it?"
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"Well, there was a caramel cookie that I think might be starting to absorb the flavour of the mint pie beside it," he says, thinking that his magic may be leaking, so to speak, and infecting everything around it.
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He directs her to the table that seems to be wafting a strange light green aura around it, like a magical thing that wants to be known. It's not supposed to be doing that, is his first critical thought. "There we are. It should taste fine. Maybe a little too flavourful."
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Weird doesn't even begin to cover it. He sets himself beside the pastry table and tries to figure out which of these are safe to eat.