Flimsies - very thin pages of plastic. Whiteboards. Tablets - those are electronic devices that store countless digital books. [It was hard to explain it to someone that didn't know.]
We have paper, but it's a very rare luxury item usually reserved for official documents, proclamations, fancy invitations, or to impress someone with their wealth.
Strange to consider a sphere where paper is considered a luxury. Typically, it's something else that men will consider fighting over.
[ because it is always men who are the ones in place to fight over it, isn't it? not that she has any intention of being more philosophical in this conversation. ]
Though the ability to keep countless books in one object is something that I can envision my colleagues practically salivating over. [ istredd, especially, is who she's thinking of, and she'll send a mental image of him now by way of her connection to ianthe. ]
I typically work with flimsies, just because that's what necromancers use to scribble theorems, calculations, thoughts, and other notes on. Especially the Lyctors of Old. I spent most of my independent research on Resurrection Theeory. No one kept digital records of that. [Except God but she could never get her hands on John's tablet.]
It must be beneficial to be able to keep all of your notes organized in one place, then, instead of having them scattered everywhere. [ such a thing would have made her think of istredd even if his face hadn't been summoned to her mind. ]
Someone I knew in my early years as a novice, before I ascended to sorceress. [ the word "knew" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. ] But he went on to specialize in research and archaeology. Digging up old ruins and understanding their significance.
More than once. [ she'll admit that much; when they were novices, they'd fucked like overeager rabbits. never mind the fact that there had been other betrayals between them before her ascension, the kind that had caused them to fall out of touch for decades. ]
A handful, at first? Try scattering it around the logs, then use more to feed the flame so it'll grow.
Give me the dick deets. Long? Thick? Did it curve to the side?
[Ianthe followed the instructions with the leaves. She frowned and rearranged the logs so there was a little open space inside them. Some of the smaller sticks were stuck in there and some leaves, a few leaves outside. She lit the leaves and watched.]
[ a soft hum of consideration, as yennefer has to actively think about it. it's been decades, at least, since she and istredd have fucked. ] Long, but not so thick as to be oppressive.
[ in her mind, there is such a thing as too big. ] I suppose if there was some curve to it, I wasn't exactly paying attention at the time.
[ she and istredd had been young, impressionable novices eager to use their power and certainly not in the way they'd been instructed to. ]
I conjured an audience once, to watch us fuck. [ something she'd been proud of at the time, even if she hadn't been able to make them emote in any obvious way. ]
The fuck do you mean? There's no door on it. It's a brick opening with a chimney.
[More coughing as Ianthe started opening her windows. Maybe she should just smother the fucking fire, but it's not like she'll die from smoke inhalation.]
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That would be all the paper. I'm still not used to the feel.
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We have paper, but it's a very rare luxury item usually reserved for official documents, proclamations, fancy invitations, or to impress someone with their wealth.
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[ because it is always men who are the ones in place to fight over it, isn't it? not that she has any intention of being more philosophical in this conversation. ]
Though the ability to keep countless books in one object is something that I can envision my colleagues practically salivating over. [ istredd, especially, is who she's thinking of, and she'll send a mental image of him now by way of her connection to ianthe. ]
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Who's the hottie?
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Someone I knew in my early years as a novice, before I ascended to sorceress. [ the word "knew" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. ] But he went on to specialize in research and archaeology. Digging up old ruins and understanding their significance.
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So how much leaf kindling shit am I supposed to use? [Guess who's back at the fireplace.]
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A handful, at first? Try scattering it around the logs, then use more to feed the flame so it'll grow.
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[Ianthe followed the instructions with the leaves. She frowned and rearranged the logs so there was a little open space inside them. Some of the smaller sticks were stuck in there and some leaves, a few leaves outside. She lit the leaves and watched.]
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[ in her mind, there is such a thing as too big. ] I suppose if there was some curve to it, I wasn't exactly paying attention at the time.
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Curve is hard to notice unless it's pronounced or you're looking for it. Sounds like a fun dick.
Oh, hey, I think I have fire. How do I keep it?
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[ there's another slight pause from her, and then: ] In those days it was more about how we could use our magic to... heighten the experience, anyway.
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Ah, my talents weren't a new experience for you. And here I was thinking I'm special.
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[ she and istredd had been young, impressionable novices eager to use their power and certainly not in the way they'd been instructed to. ]
I conjured an audience once, to watch us fuck. [ something she'd been proud of at the time, even if she hadn't been able to make them emote in any obvious way. ]
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[Had then been a ploy to get Yennefer to boost her ego? Maybe.]
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[Ianthe cut off with a few coughs.]
Oh fuck. What the ever loving shit? Why is it all smokey?
[Another cough.] Fuck.
[Guess who didn't open the damper. Guess who didn't know it even existed.]
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[ she pauses, trying to remember if she’s missed a step along the way. ]
The fireplace is open, isn’t it? [ at this point, she’s one exchange away from simply portaling herself into ianthe’s house. ]
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[More coughing as Ianthe started opening her windows. Maybe she should just smother the fucking fire, but it's not like she'll die from smoke inhalation.]
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[ which would seem to indicate that the fireplace is blocked in some way, or something’s not allowing it to vent itself. ]
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[Fucking hell. Ianthe threw a membrane over her beautiful finally burning well fire to smother it.]
Johan said everything in the house was in working order.
[Looked like Ianthe was going to have to stick her head in the fireplace.]
Can't see shit in here.
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[ that still counts as letting ianthe figure out how to do it herself, right? yennefer’s just pointedly offering to help with some other aspects. ]
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I have one of my perpetual candles here. Let me just...
[Go grab it. Light it. Look inside the fireplace. Her poor hair was getting all soot-stained.]
...is there supposed to be a metal plate in here?
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[ yennefer’s only been around a certain number of chimneys in her lifetime, but she’s going off of her own memories of the farm. ]
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[Just going to fiddle with said metal plate.]
Oh. It moves. Like it's not lodged in here but sorta hinged. I think.
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