Open Post: This Is Where The Magic Happens

[rememberettersberg]

A new notice has appeared on the welcome table and at several well-traversed locations around the mansion and its grounds. It invites residents to stop by a certain summer house (which has recently sprung into existence on the shore of the lake) if they are interested in the discussion and/or instruction of magic.

Should anyone's curiosity take them in that direction, they'll find Nightingale there with a pot of tea always on the go and a rotating selection of snacks and nibbles. He's started to cultivate (heh) a small library of his own - important texts in the history of his magical tradition, textbooks for the study of a number of dead/archaic languages, and a growing pile of his own notes.

He'll be delighted to catalogue the differences (and similarities) in the way various worlds practice magic, conduct experiments to see if they can use each other's traditions, and (in the case of Laertes and anyone else that seems like they might be a fit candidate) begin some basic magical instruction.

Closed.

Comments

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji, curious on several levels, hovers quietly for a moment in the doorway of the summer house in question. He has not encountered Nightingale in some time; several things have changed since then. He recognized, he believes, some kind of kindred spirit in the man.

Once he has decided to make his presence known, he steps inside and makes a polite bow to announce himself.

[timebethine]

Laertes comes to the summer house with a smile on his lips and a dictionary of Latin under one arm. The prospect of learning magic fills him with a pleasant buzz of anticipation; he shifts from foot to foot after he's knocked, already eager to begin.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad isn't looking for Nightingale on purpose -- he's just wandering by the lakeside, with a book about Welsh flora, looking to see whether he recognizes any of the plants growing by the water's edge. There are tall phragmites turning to fluff, which he trails his hands through, and celandine down in the mud, and pickerelweed, which he's never seen before.

When he sees the summer house, and recognizes that it's new, he comes to the door and looks in curiously. Although he's nowhere near as miserable as he has been, he still gives a faint sense that he's haunting a place, dressed in white and pale as a ghost at the window

[sagramore]

Sagramore is still sober, and he's still not enjoying it very much, but he has an errand. He stops by the summer house, rapping lightly at the door before he enters.

"Nightingale?"