❰ if emil's the one falling quiet, far be it for lalli to break the companionable silence. he does steal a glance in the swede's direction, assessing his mood and finding it neutral-to-good.
lalli's own mood is increased even further as he's given a second egg, which he pokes experimentally with the fork to see if it's raw inside before cutting into it, satisfied with the texture.
he's a few bites in when it occurs to him that he should maybe thank him, but that's when emil breaks the silence, himself. asking about the rug, and lalli's mind reels back to the rug, then to the moment in which he mentioned the rug. why had he mentioned the rug? that was stupid. he hadn't even planned on coming back. ❱
Mhm, ❰ he confirms, swallowing the bite he's chewing. ❱ It's in Frigg. Think you'd like it.
( It's a hard moment to think about, it's true. After this war is over, which he's belligerently optimistic in the turnout of, then Emil is quite content to never think about it again. There'll be nothing to remind him of--
Oh, wait. Well. Perhaps the rug.
And yet it definitely feels like since Lalli told him about it, especially in such a harrowing moment, it's not something his mind should just let go of. )
I'll see for myself, then. ( Which on its own might feel more like a note that he's going alone, but it's clarified quickly: ) We've got to go pick out your birthday gifts, anyway.
( That's one thing he remembered about being drunk. It's in between bites that he gestures a loop with his fork. ) After training, of course.
❰ the mention of 'birthday gifts' earns a scowl and a vague grumble sound behind his current bite of eggs, but he doesn't voice any actual complaints. especially since that's just a hypothetical eventuality right now, fitted safely on the other side of a much more pressing thing called training.
emil doesn't seem to have forgotten, either, which saves lalli the need to remind him. instead he just hums an agreement, popping the last bit of egg into his mouth. he doesn't expect emil to be done already, lalli just managed to eat most of his first egg while emil was still cooking. now he's sitting back in the chair, legs thoughtlessly pulling up crosslegged. ❱
Should probably train with knives, too. ❰ it's an idle thought, at least for now - he makes that much known with a shake of his head and, ❱ Later. Not today.
( No, he's certainly not done. Being frank, he's in no rush to leave the safe and isolated confines of the house. It's been a time or two that he's swung in the direction of considering staying, asking Lalli selfishly to just stay behind and hole up in what is basically a fortress for them.
It's momentary, fleeting and dismissed every time. But it also doesn't mean he's currently charging forth to the front lines, either. Thus, his eggs are eaten leisurely. )
It makes sense. I can use a dagger...but if they're really human, it's different. ( He's had weapons on hand to fight creatures, inhuman in almost every sense of the word. An actual undead human with a weapon lunging at him, however...that, he doesn't quite know how to handle, and he can admit that. ) Tomorrow, maybe.
( His first egg is gone, then slowly his second. The inevitable has arrived, and training must commence.
The same spot they used last time is approached again -- it did well enough for them last time, so why not make it their lucky training ground? All it takes is a deep breath and Emil is ready to go. Actually, now that they're outside and about to begin, there's some pride running through him.
For as much prodding as it took last time, Emil quickly creates an orb to maximum size, hovering about a foot in the air. This isn't such a complex task now, and instead he's new focus will be on moving it around once he's created it. )
I don't want the wights to just walk into it, so I have to target them, somehow. ( He explains to Lalli, walking around the outside of his orb, feeling the heat radiate from it. ) I don't feel as tired after making a few, either.
❰ lalli, for his part, gives emil his space to work. it was simple enough to stand beside him when they practiced simple control and size-management, but now the fireball is highly mobile (or at least it will be soon) and lalli's giving it a respectable berth.
not far enough that he has to raise his voice to answer, though. ❱ That's good, ❰ he says, watching the fireball thoughtfully. then he's backing away a bit further, because his first request is: ❱ How quickly can you loop it around you? ❰ it seems like a fundamentally useful technique, to burn away a safe perimeter. ❱
( Emil stares at him blankly for a moment, never thinking about trying out the specified movement. The orb remains in the air, but he focuses his gaze on it, willing it to move in a circular position.
It's not the cleanest circle, and it lopes up and down in spots -- even scorching the ground in one spot -- but within 30 seconds it's made a full rotation around him.
Once that's complete, his confidence in doing it again is much higher. The next rotation is cleaner, quicker. This is a new discovery: he can just think of a movement cycle, push that into the fiery orb and it will do as he asks. After the third pass, he lets the orb dissipate. There's sweat beading on his forehead, both from the concentration required and the proximity of the flame. )
Not bad, huh? ( The feat makes him feel smug, looking for validation from his friend, who just happens to be a respectable magic user. Any praise from Lalli is important to him in so many ways. )
❰ the lack of consideration doesn't surprise lalli. it's one of the things he's trying to teach him, the drive to identify the parameters of his magic in full, to figure out all of the different ways that it can be used to their benefit. what also fails to surprise lalli is how quickly emil picks up on the movement, improves upon it. the swede never gives himself quite enough credit, but lalli has no doubt left of the sort of potential emil actually has.
'not bad, huh?' ❱ Not bad, ❰ he agrees in a pleased sort of tone, like he really means 'fantastic job' but is too finnish to say it. ❱ Should practice that more before we leave. Need something to keep from getting surrounded. ❰ oh, did you not expect lalli to count on you for his survival? because it sure sounds like that's what's going to happen. ❱
( It's alright; any compliment from Lalli is one he'll take and appreciate. He isn't one to dole them out without truly meaning them, so they don't have to be flowery or use more impactful words in order to hold weight.
Emil thinks about the trajectory of what Lalli suggests for a moment. He'd initially thought about using his powers in a more offensive way, but defensive also works. He can create an orb, then hold it on wights that approach too closely for as long as it will last. The thought itself is tiring, but that's the point of practice. )
Yeah, alright. ( A forearm comes up to wipe the sweat from his brow, breathing deeply. The weather is beginning to cool down, but it doesn't make much difference when you're that close to concentrated flame. ) That helps for distance protection...you can do more close range, too. Between runes and the wind, that should handle any stragglers.
( As far as he's concerned, they're conceptually untouchable. )
❰ emil's assessment is largely correct (lalli doesn't foresee having the time or energy to maintain any runes, but they would definitely help if he did), so the finn just hums an affirmation, all the while assessing emil's condition. sweating. tiring, if not outright tired. he probably shouldn't try again just yet.
so lalli can take a turn. ❱
Need to figure out what this can do, ❰ he says, mostly thinking aloud at this point, ❱ besides push things. ❰ because pushing wights isn't going to do much more than anger them, hold them back for a few extra seconds.
lalli doesn't bother to warn emil to stay back (it's obvious, he figures) when he steps out into the spot that emil's fireball recently singed. it's far enough away from emil not to put him in immediate danger while he picks up a wind around himself, only medium-strength for now, and scans the nearby area for projectiles. there's a rock right there, and another over there - and a third, that's more than enough. his hands linger not far from his sides, fingertips outstretched but not nearly so dramatic as the spread of his arms the first time he tried this. it's a reflex he still has to fight to resist, but he's learned it's not a necessary one. the magic will listen regardless.
which it does, as he flattens his palms a bit and the wind cuts low to the ground, whipping counter-clockwise along the earth, then whipping clockwise instead. working the stones loose until he's able to scoop them up into the air, where they too spiral around him at about chest-height. ready. waiting. he releases them at a nearby tree, one after another. the first two miss. the third hits, though not as dead-on as he'd like.
a flick of his fingers calls the wind back to himself, gusting around him as his gaze scans for further projectiles to practice with. but the way the wind circles tight around him makes him feel inexplicably light, buoyant - and all at once, he has an entirely different idea. by his command, the wind cycles tighter and tighter around him, sinking down from his shoulders and torso to his hips and thighs, whipping hard in the base of his tunic and the lacings of his boots.
and then, just as with the rocks, he tells it to push, to lift up from below. and so it does. his feet leave the ground, hovering first a few scant centimeters in the air, then working up to the better part of a meter, then a little over two. this isn't like when he was a dragon. that felt... surreal, like he was himself and yet not at all. this is entirely himself, and while he recognizes that this turn of events is utterly useless in the pursuit of killing wights, something almost like delight swells in his chest regardless.
the trouble is, he's not entirely sure how to get down. that takes a bit more finesse than he currently has, and his attempt to gradually taper away the wind keeping him afloat ends in the upward gust scattering altogether and dumping lalli unceremoniously onto the ground with a startled huff. by the time emil reaches him, though (because who are we kidding), he's already rolled onto his back and pulled in a breath to make sure it wasn't knocked out of him. there's something smile-adjacent at the corners of his mouth as he says, ❱ Was stupid. I'll figure out something more useful. ❰ because that was the point of this, wasn't it? to prepare them to fight? not to hover stupidly and waste magic. ❱
( Emil considered Lalli's ability to manipulate wind to be impressive enough as is. Not even just for the fact that it was present, giving him two capabilities instead of just the one -- it was useful, definitely different and powerful in its sheer force. If it was limited to simply whipping gusts back and forth with abandon, he'd have still found it to be a very spectacular addition to his friend's magical resume.
The idea that he can control it is an added bonus -- not that he hadn't shown off the ability when he lifted Emil's orb, but what he displays now is much more finessed and fine-tuned. "Need to figure out what to do"...as if the answers don't come easily to him. Emil had taken a seat on the ground to watch whatever Lalli was about to do, and he takes in the activity with careful detail.
Two stones might not have found their mark, and maybe the third isn't centred exactly as it should be. It's all the same to Emil: stirring, and a continued reminder of just how much he respects Lalli, as little as he used to for what feels like a fleeting moment compared to the length of time he's known him now.
It seems like that should be the end of the exercise; maybe they can reset the stones and continue with a sort of target practice. Then there's a pause, and the wind closes in on Lalli. At first a small level of panic enters Emil's chest, like somehow his friend's magic is about to swallow him dangerously. It doesn't make sense, and the feeling quickly subsides as it becomes plainly obvious the Finn is in total control. The only confusing aspect is the point of it all, though that too is brought to light soon enough.
A few centimetres, a meter, another -- Lalli is literally in the air with the help of his magic, and Emil stares with his mouth ajar as he raises himself higher and higher still. The descent is less than graceful, but it's (again) not something that he considers as a negative. His body hits the ground and Emil is on his feet, running over to slide to a kneel next to Lalli's half-righted body. There's a look on his face; it's almost smug, but tinged with a bit of enjoyment for the sake of it.
There's a certain enjoyment he takes in seeing Lalli perform magic, and exude confidence in himself in general, but that small twinkle is next to unbearable. It's attractive, in a very unknowing way, which only adds to the appeal of it. Maybe it was stupid -- maybe that's just an added interesting element of it all; Lalli doing something self-serving and juvenile just to say he did it. Even if he's implying the opposite. )
You have no idea how cool that was. ( His breath is a little taken away, more so than his friend who just fell out of the air. That was just...a lot to take in. It continues to be, with his gaze firmly fixed on that fraction of a smile looking up at him from the ground. )
❰ and sure enough, here's emil, all but sliding in beside him. he knows better than to try to help lalli up, a fact that doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated as lalli pushes up onto his elbows and makes his comment about finding something more useful.
that's when emil finally speaks, says 'you have no idea how cool that was,' and lalli stops midway through sitting up the rest of the way, gaze darting over to emil's (at a much closer proximity now that he's more upright) in what aims for skepticism but lands quite a bit closer to intrigue. he's not actually all that shocked that emil thinks it was 'cool'. it surprises him more that suddenly, that assessment actually matters to him.
he wants to brush it off. he should brush it off, because honestly it's just as stupid as the stunt was in the first place - but what comes out instead is a quiet, ❱ Could do it again, if you want. ❰ stupid, stupid, stupid. ❱
( Lalli is so close suddenly, if he would have kept moving forward Emil might have had to move backwards so they didn't slightly collide. He still should, in a moment. For now, the sudden magnification of the face he was just admiring takes him aback, like his brain skipped off its track for a moment.
There's an unexpected...shyness (?) in Lalli's response, which also causes him to stupidly refrain from response for a moment. It's an offer, explicitly for him. At first he doesn't know how to respond, suddenly flustered by the closeness even more. If Lalli was further away, maybe he wouldn't have even heard it at all with the soft volume.
Finally, he leans back slightly, prepared to stand up once Lalli does. ) Yeah -- If you aren't too tired. It couldn't hurt. ( How it could be useful in a practical setting, he has no clue -- he's never been good at being the idea man. Not that it all matters to him, it really is just cool regardless. )
❰ lalli didn't quite think about the ramifications of the new proximity, but he all but watches the stutter of emil's entire brain as it plays across his face, and now it clicks quite how close they actually are. it's something emil is certainly paying attention to, too.
and to think that a week ago, lalli wouldn't have realized a thing.
normally, as soon as he notices how close he actually is to someone, he's quick to shift away - but this time he doesn't. he's not entirely sure why. testing the waters, maybe. he told klaus he'd think about it, but the parts of it all are like leaves on the wind, present and obvious but impossible to keep count of. how is he supposed to know what he feels? and what is it that emil wants from him?
the answer is straightforward enough, at the moment: he wants him to fly again.
that's what drags his gaze away from emil's, pulls him out of his head and back to his feet. ❱ I'm not, ❰ he says, probably unnecessarily. and he's stepping back just a couple of steps this time before he calls the wind, curves it around emil as if a wall of glass protected him rather than just the force of lalli's will, then coils it tight around himself again.
he's airborne much more quickly this time, and much more smoothly too. a meter, two, three - he doesn't stop until he's nearly ten meters in the air this time, arms lifting out to the sides just barely for balance as he calls back down to emil. ❱ Figured it out, ❰ he says, barely audible over the wind. ❱ How it's useful.
❰ and with no further explanation, he lets himself fall backward, dropping as if he's stepped off of a ledge. only when he's just a meter or so above emil's head-height does the wind kick back up in full force, cushioning the fall and stopping him flat on his back at eye level. ❱
Don't think they can climb, ❰ he says, letting the wind disappear again and catching himself on his feet. ❱ I can put us up a tree if we need a break. Bring us back down, too.
( After standing up once Lalli moved from the ground, he steps back and lets the mage do his thing. His request is being fulfilled, after all, so his friend gets a wide berth.
Emil feels the wind curl close to him like he's standing next to a swift current, before it feels like Lalli really took all the air out of the world just to have it for himself. The feat of magic is much more impressive, showcasing how quickly he masters the concept of his capabilities. He's reached a new height, and then keeps rising. The expectation that he might stop at maybe even double what he'd done before is shattered as it's tripled, quadrupled. There's something that he yells down, as Emil cranes his neck upward with his eyes shielded from the sun by his hand, but he has no idea what it is. If it matters.
When he sees Lalli begin to free fall, his muscles snap to attention quickly, but he forces them into inaction with just as much speed. He trusts Lalli, who always knows what it is he's doing. Sure enough, with the precision and timing indicative of an experienced magic user, he's cushioned and put on pause as if he'd sauntered down on a cloud, suspended.
That alone is basically as impressive as being able to levitate, in Emil's book. Lalli's feet find the ground again, while he himself tries to find an expression that shows he has a vested interested in the actual practicality of such a display, instead of the reddened look of over-enthusiastic interest. )
Uhm. Useful. Yeah. ( If he takes another moment to actually shift into the mindset he's supposed to be using, it is actually quite a good trick to have up their sleeve. A longer than necessary moment goes by, and then he's more prepared to talk shop. ) In general, it's a good escape route mechanism. We won't be getting cornered, and it's good for being sneaky, too.
( He recalls the initial smirk, and then the comment. Emil is trying hard to stay straight-faced, but he can't help but smile ever so slightly. ) So definitely not stupid.
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lalli's own mood is increased even further as he's given a second egg, which he pokes experimentally with the fork to see if it's raw inside before cutting into it, satisfied with the texture.
he's a few bites in when it occurs to him that he should maybe thank him, but that's when emil breaks the silence, himself. asking about the rug, and lalli's mind reels back to the rug, then to the moment in which he mentioned the rug. why had he mentioned the rug? that was stupid. he hadn't even planned on coming back. ❱
Mhm, ❰ he confirms, swallowing the bite he's chewing. ❱ It's in Frigg. Think you'd like it.
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Oh, wait. Well. Perhaps the rug.
And yet it definitely feels like since Lalli told him about it, especially in such a harrowing moment, it's not something his mind should just let go of. )
I'll see for myself, then. ( Which on its own might feel more like a note that he's going alone, but it's clarified quickly: ) We've got to go pick out your birthday gifts, anyway.
( That's one thing he remembered about being drunk. It's in between bites that he gestures a loop with his fork. ) After training, of course.
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emil doesn't seem to have forgotten, either, which saves lalli the need to remind him. instead he just hums an agreement, popping the last bit of egg into his mouth. he doesn't expect emil to be done already, lalli just managed to eat most of his first egg while emil was still cooking. now he's sitting back in the chair, legs thoughtlessly pulling up crosslegged. ❱
Should probably train with knives, too. ❰ it's an idle thought, at least for now - he makes that much known with a shake of his head and, ❱ Later. Not today.
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It's momentary, fleeting and dismissed every time. But it also doesn't mean he's currently charging forth to the front lines, either. Thus, his eggs are eaten leisurely. )
It makes sense. I can use a dagger...but if they're really human, it's different. ( He's had weapons on hand to fight creatures, inhuman in almost every sense of the word. An actual undead human with a weapon lunging at him, however...that, he doesn't quite know how to handle, and he can admit that. ) Tomorrow, maybe.
( His first egg is gone, then slowly his second. The inevitable has arrived, and training must commence.
The same spot they used last time is approached again -- it did well enough for them last time, so why not make it their lucky training ground? All it takes is a deep breath and Emil is ready to go. Actually, now that they're outside and about to begin, there's some pride running through him.
For as much prodding as it took last time, Emil quickly creates an orb to maximum size, hovering about a foot in the air. This isn't such a complex task now, and instead he's new focus will be on moving it around once he's created it. )
I don't want the wights to just walk into it, so I have to target them, somehow. ( He explains to Lalli, walking around the outside of his orb, feeling the heat radiate from it. ) I don't feel as tired after making a few, either.
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not far enough that he has to raise his voice to answer, though. ❱ That's good, ❰ he says, watching the fireball thoughtfully. then he's backing away a bit further, because his first request is: ❱ How quickly can you loop it around you? ❰ it seems like a fundamentally useful technique, to burn away a safe perimeter. ❱
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It's not the cleanest circle, and it lopes up and down in spots -- even scorching the ground in one spot -- but within 30 seconds it's made a full rotation around him.
Once that's complete, his confidence in doing it again is much higher. The next rotation is cleaner, quicker. This is a new discovery: he can just think of a movement cycle, push that into the fiery orb and it will do as he asks. After the third pass, he lets the orb dissipate. There's sweat beading on his forehead, both from the concentration required and the proximity of the flame. )
Not bad, huh? ( The feat makes him feel smug, looking for validation from his friend, who just happens to be a respectable magic user. Any praise from Lalli is important to him in so many ways. )
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'not bad, huh?' ❱ Not bad, ❰ he agrees in a pleased sort of tone, like he really means 'fantastic job' but is too finnish to say it. ❱ Should practice that more before we leave. Need something to keep from getting surrounded. ❰ oh, did you not expect lalli to count on you for his survival? because it sure sounds like that's what's going to happen. ❱
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Emil thinks about the trajectory of what Lalli suggests for a moment. He'd initially thought about using his powers in a more offensive way, but defensive also works. He can create an orb, then hold it on wights that approach too closely for as long as it will last. The thought itself is tiring, but that's the point of practice. )
Yeah, alright. ( A forearm comes up to wipe the sweat from his brow, breathing deeply. The weather is beginning to cool down, but it doesn't make much difference when you're that close to concentrated flame. ) That helps for distance protection...you can do more close range, too. Between runes and the wind, that should handle any stragglers.
( As far as he's concerned, they're conceptually untouchable. )
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so lalli can take a turn. ❱
Need to figure out what this can do, ❰ he says, mostly thinking aloud at this point, ❱ besides push things. ❰ because pushing wights isn't going to do much more than anger them, hold them back for a few extra seconds.
lalli doesn't bother to warn emil to stay back (it's obvious, he figures) when he steps out into the spot that emil's fireball recently singed. it's far enough away from emil not to put him in immediate danger while he picks up a wind around himself, only medium-strength for now, and scans the nearby area for projectiles. there's a rock right there, and another over there - and a third, that's more than enough. his hands linger not far from his sides, fingertips outstretched but not nearly so dramatic as the spread of his arms the first time he tried this. it's a reflex he still has to fight to resist, but he's learned it's not a necessary one. the magic will listen regardless.
which it does, as he flattens his palms a bit and the wind cuts low to the ground, whipping counter-clockwise along the earth, then whipping clockwise instead. working the stones loose until he's able to scoop them up into the air, where they too spiral around him at about chest-height. ready. waiting. he releases them at a nearby tree, one after another. the first two miss. the third hits, though not as dead-on as he'd like.
a flick of his fingers calls the wind back to himself, gusting around him as his gaze scans for further projectiles to practice with. but the way the wind circles tight around him makes him feel inexplicably light, buoyant - and all at once, he has an entirely different idea. by his command, the wind cycles tighter and tighter around him, sinking down from his shoulders and torso to his hips and thighs, whipping hard in the base of his tunic and the lacings of his boots.
and then, just as with the rocks, he tells it to push, to lift up from below. and so it does. his feet leave the ground, hovering first a few scant centimeters in the air, then working up to the better part of a meter, then a little over two. this isn't like when he was a dragon. that felt... surreal, like he was himself and yet not at all. this is entirely himself, and while he recognizes that this turn of events is utterly useless in the pursuit of killing wights, something almost like delight swells in his chest regardless.
the trouble is, he's not entirely sure how to get down. that takes a bit more finesse than he currently has, and his attempt to gradually taper away the wind keeping him afloat ends in the upward gust scattering altogether and dumping lalli unceremoniously onto the ground with a startled huff. by the time emil reaches him, though (because who are we kidding), he's already rolled onto his back and pulled in a breath to make sure it wasn't knocked out of him. there's something smile-adjacent at the corners of his mouth as he says, ❱ Was stupid. I'll figure out something more useful. ❰ because that was the point of this, wasn't it? to prepare them to fight? not to hover stupidly and waste magic. ❱
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The idea that he can control it is an added bonus -- not that he hadn't shown off the ability when he lifted Emil's orb, but what he displays now is much more finessed and fine-tuned. "Need to figure out what to do"...as if the answers don't come easily to him. Emil had taken a seat on the ground to watch whatever Lalli was about to do, and he takes in the activity with careful detail.
Two stones might not have found their mark, and maybe the third isn't centred exactly as it should be. It's all the same to Emil: stirring, and a continued reminder of just how much he respects Lalli, as little as he used to for what feels like a fleeting moment compared to the length of time he's known him now.
It seems like that should be the end of the exercise; maybe they can reset the stones and continue with a sort of target practice. Then there's a pause, and the wind closes in on Lalli. At first a small level of panic enters Emil's chest, like somehow his friend's magic is about to swallow him dangerously. It doesn't make sense, and the feeling quickly subsides as it becomes plainly obvious the Finn is in total control. The only confusing aspect is the point of it all, though that too is brought to light soon enough.
A few centimetres, a meter, another -- Lalli is literally in the air with the help of his magic, and Emil stares with his mouth ajar as he raises himself higher and higher still. The descent is less than graceful, but it's (again) not something that he considers as a negative. His body hits the ground and Emil is on his feet, running over to slide to a kneel next to Lalli's half-righted body. There's a look on his face; it's almost smug, but tinged with a bit of enjoyment for the sake of it.
There's a certain enjoyment he takes in seeing Lalli perform magic, and exude confidence in himself in general, but that small twinkle is next to unbearable. It's attractive, in a very unknowing way, which only adds to the appeal of it. Maybe it was stupid -- maybe that's just an added interesting element of it all; Lalli doing something self-serving and juvenile just to say he did it. Even if he's implying the opposite. )
You have no idea how cool that was. ( His breath is a little taken away, more so than his friend who just fell out of the air. That was just...a lot to take in. It continues to be, with his gaze firmly fixed on that fraction of a smile looking up at him from the ground. )
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that's when emil finally speaks, says 'you have no idea how cool that was,' and lalli stops midway through sitting up the rest of the way, gaze darting over to emil's (at a much closer proximity now that he's more upright) in what aims for skepticism but lands quite a bit closer to intrigue. he's not actually all that shocked that emil thinks it was 'cool'. it surprises him more that suddenly, that assessment actually matters to him.
he wants to brush it off. he should brush it off, because honestly it's just as stupid as the stunt was in the first place - but what comes out instead is a quiet, ❱ Could do it again, if you want. ❰ stupid, stupid, stupid. ❱
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There's an unexpected...shyness (?) in Lalli's response, which also causes him to stupidly refrain from response for a moment. It's an offer, explicitly for him. At first he doesn't know how to respond, suddenly flustered by the closeness even more. If Lalli was further away, maybe he wouldn't have even heard it at all with the soft volume.
Finally, he leans back slightly, prepared to stand up once Lalli does. ) Yeah -- If you aren't too tired. It couldn't hurt. ( How it could be useful in a practical setting, he has no clue -- he's never been good at being the idea man. Not that it all matters to him, it really is just cool regardless. )
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and to think that a week ago, lalli wouldn't have realized a thing.
normally, as soon as he notices how close he actually is to someone, he's quick to shift away - but this time he doesn't. he's not entirely sure why. testing the waters, maybe. he told klaus he'd think about it, but the parts of it all are like leaves on the wind, present and obvious but impossible to keep count of. how is he supposed to know what he feels? and what is it that emil wants from him?
the answer is straightforward enough, at the moment: he wants him to fly again.
that's what drags his gaze away from emil's, pulls him out of his head and back to his feet. ❱ I'm not, ❰ he says, probably unnecessarily. and he's stepping back just a couple of steps this time before he calls the wind, curves it around emil as if a wall of glass protected him rather than just the force of lalli's will, then coils it tight around himself again.
he's airborne much more quickly this time, and much more smoothly too. a meter, two, three - he doesn't stop until he's nearly ten meters in the air this time, arms lifting out to the sides just barely for balance as he calls back down to emil. ❱ Figured it out, ❰ he says, barely audible over the wind. ❱ How it's useful.
❰ and with no further explanation, he lets himself fall backward, dropping as if he's stepped off of a ledge. only when he's just a meter or so above emil's head-height does the wind kick back up in full force, cushioning the fall and stopping him flat on his back at eye level. ❱
Don't think they can climb, ❰ he says, letting the wind disappear again and catching himself on his feet. ❱ I can put us up a tree if we need a break. Bring us back down, too.
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Emil feels the wind curl close to him like he's standing next to a swift current, before it feels like Lalli really took all the air out of the world just to have it for himself. The feat of magic is much more impressive, showcasing how quickly he masters the concept of his capabilities. He's reached a new height, and then keeps rising. The expectation that he might stop at maybe even double what he'd done before is shattered as it's tripled, quadrupled. There's something that he yells down, as Emil cranes his neck upward with his eyes shielded from the sun by his hand, but he has no idea what it is. If it matters.
When he sees Lalli begin to free fall, his muscles snap to attention quickly, but he forces them into inaction with just as much speed. He trusts Lalli, who always knows what it is he's doing. Sure enough, with the precision and timing indicative of an experienced magic user, he's cushioned and put on pause as if he'd sauntered down on a cloud, suspended.
That alone is basically as impressive as being able to levitate, in Emil's book. Lalli's feet find the ground again, while he himself tries to find an expression that shows he has a vested interested in the actual practicality of such a display, instead of the reddened look of over-enthusiastic interest. )
Uhm. Useful. Yeah. ( If he takes another moment to actually shift into the mindset he's supposed to be using, it is actually quite a good trick to have up their sleeve. A longer than necessary moment goes by, and then he's more prepared to talk shop. ) In general, it's a good escape route mechanism. We won't be getting cornered, and it's good for being sneaky, too.
( He recalls the initial smirk, and then the comment. Emil is trying hard to stay straight-faced, but he can't help but smile ever so slightly. ) So definitely not stupid.