#brodie...the way i make u read so much in both my tags and replies AND dms...im so sorry brooooooo

[recitedemise]

Callisto, there in the gleam of these lights, is echoing, mirroring the likeness of earth. She would offer compassion, a supply of her patience like the fruit in a grove. She has gifted her alms. She has shared those great valleys of her honey-bled heart. And were she not more mindful, guarding her seasons with a vigilance and care, she will lose herself entirely. She may find herself tilled. Both plundered and wasted and taken for granted... Gale, in a way, might sorely relate.

But he's taking now, isn't he?, no longer a lover to drain of his offerings. His orb croaks in his chest, tempting her over like a hare to a wolf. In truth, she should worry a far less deal about the threat on her mother and ferry her worries more on her.

(Forget it, Gale thinks; he does so all for his sanity. Should ever the time come, you will die with this tempest — alone, not threatening, and far from her.)

"Oh, I must've given you the impression that I'm somewhat charitable—" who'd have thought it! "—but no, I don't simply dole out flattery. Since my coming here this evening, I've offered you only my most forthcoming observations. Were I to start brining you in poetry and all manner of praise," he teases, "believe me—" truly! "—you would know it."

Yet, it seems he's wicked her spirit all the same. Suddenly, her face brightens, and the mood, a little rocky at the start, shifts with an ease to an amiable hum. She's a thing of strange qualities, several parts selfless but several parts mad. She feels to him a talent, all intrigue and fire he could only call daring, and watching, all that hunger to know crackles hotly in her eyes. Perhaps, much the same, that's why she sees him. "Bold? Gosh. And to think I could be so easily read," he jokes, boasting those workings of a smile. "But now thoroughly humbled, perhaps I'm nowhere near as mysterious as I'd originally thought. Of course, there's still every possibility that you've a talent for sleuthing," he adds. "Should you desire a new vocation, you could always go Nancy Drew. I'm sure," as he often is!, "that you'll prove most magical." Funny. Absentmindedly, Gale undoes the first few buttons of his shirt. It's strangely beautiful, that orb, carved in his flesh with all the colors of a battering bruise. It trails all over, veins darkening  up toward his neck and left down his arm. He eyes her carefully, vying very much for that air of humor they'd easily brought. Feisty to somber to funny to trusting? Huffing a little, Gale lets her look. "I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Of course you do," he mutters. "It's been, well, quite some time since someone's believed in me so earnestly. I won't soon betray your trust. You have my word."

"As for you, don't let neither my distinguished appearance nor my verbosity fool you. Despite the ironed shirt, I'll have you know that I was -- and still am, depending on you ask -- quite a menace." Why, isn't that a thought? Gale steadies himself, feeling the throbbing of the blight trickle to his nails. Unfortunately, that middling spell achieved abysmally little to smother it mute, but he's abundantly familiar it's knackering by now. Instead, he turns his head so she may follow the veins. "Well, I would never think to detract a devoted young woman, but I'd be remiss were I not to remind you of the option. I could do more than show you, Callisto. I'm a wizard preoccupied with only those marvels that would beggar belief. What I can offer you is a chance to dare possibilities you haven't yet dared to." A chance at things she thought beyond her.

She understands. Oh, she understands.

She has not been young in a long time - the only adult in an apartment where one still resides. He wonders if she is this kind to herself - herself is usually not usually offered any part in the equation. All of her goes to others, and now she's carving out a slice for him. Easy as that, no questions, no reservations.

Callisto is relieved, however, when he confirms that the artefact can't just absorb magics straight out of the air. It wouldn't have stopped her helping him, of course - doing her research or inviting him around for observation. It may have just meant that when she did, Jupiter spent the afternoon elsewhere. And should he need it, she's no shortage of magic artefacts sitting around.

"I don't imagine you'll wear anything down. If not for the fact that you've given me something interesting to think about, then the fact that you keep peppering in compliments you think I don't notice makes me want to keep you right in that seat." Still, she is absolutely flattered by his assessment of her skill. As far as Callisto's concerned, the word of someone of his standing goes a long way.

The comment that he's stoked something dangerous in her is simply met with a waggle of eyebrows. Even as a child, Callisto had always had an unquenched desire to know. It was because of that - that headstrong nature - when mixed with magic and the ability to test those boundaries that she'd been homeschooled for as long as she had. "I think you're bold enough to say what you think." There's another comment, but it disappears when he mentions you and yours, because Callisto certainly hadn't mentioned any and yours. She often didn't, with custom clients, because she didn't know them. It should have occurred to her, though. That if Gale could feel her magic, the magic that permeated the store, that he'd be able to tell there was another source of it upstairs. "I believe you." She says after a moment. "I said before I'm not worried I'm unsafe with you, that's still true. You seem like you're going to worry enough for the both of us." She offers a wry smile - and then, because she thinks she needs to, continues. "No one else here will bother you. You probably won't ever see anyone but me, if you're concerned about that."

And if not, then. At least it's laid out on the table for him.

Callisto is pleased to see him relax, now. The proverbial weight off of his shoulders as he smiles, giddy, into his cup of tea. Is that all it took?

"Oh? You'll what, train me? Or just put on a show?" Not that the latter wouldn't be enjoyable, but the first would be much more interesting to her, especially if he was going to offer it as part of the recompense for this. The comment about academia, though, has her ducking her head. Not anything that had ever been in the cards for her, no matter the aptitude he thought she possessed. And was before everything else happened. "Ha. Then I guess she has to keep suffering. If I were to turn to books, who would be here to do this?" Broad grin is back in place, now, the idea not even allowed the time to root. "No, I've gotta stay here. Besides, I don't much think academics would like how little respect I have for stuffy rules."