"I've been thinking about that," he admits as he leans on his elbows on the counter. "I-I mean, I want to help Arthur, of course. But I don't know how many detectives he'll need. Maybe selling food a-and looking after Faroe would be more helpful."
He nods, and John will move right along since, as Charlie says, it's all just thinking right now. John doesn't see that time coming any time soon, after all.
"Right. Anyway.
"I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in learning how to use magic," he says plainly.
What has a coffee in each hand and is giving John a very neutral look for a very long moment? This guy!
...Listen, he doesn't know what he expected, but that one surprised him.
"Didn't realise that was somethin' I could learn," he says, which is not a yes but is also not a no, but is thoughtful. He has immediate instinctive misgivings the length of his arm. He also finds that having no magic tricks in a place where a lot of people have a lot of magic tricks kinda sucks sometimes, especially when you're meant to be keeping them in line somewhat.
He slides one of the mugs across the bar to John, and leans on his hands on the other side, an eyebrow raised. "You gonna show me how to turn into a tiger?"
That is going to get a duck of his head, followed by a shake.
"That wasn't me. That's Florian. He makes items that can do magic."
He shakes his head again, this time less about being slightly sheepish about magical things he can do and more in the negative.
"And I'm not sure how much you can do. I know that there's magic in the Barge that can be used with the right spells and gestures and things. Plenty of people do that."
He gestures to Charlie with one hand.
"I thought it might not be a bad thing, for you to get a handle on that kind of thing yourself. Sort of like when I learned about food." Wry. "It started because I hated listening to Arthur's mouth noises while he chewed."
"No," huff huff huff, "it's just a lot easier to deal with if he's telling me about how delicious something I made him is. Or at least telling me what I need to adjust to make it better. Then it's like a game. A skill test."
Beat.
"He was going to talk anyway, after all. His mind's always going."
Ah, John, huffing and puffing is just feeding the trolls! The one troll. The troll in front of you.
"Yeah, faster than I can keep up with." He admits it easily, not self-depreciating but impressed. "Watchin' him wind up and go in New York made me feel like I was in the wrong linea work. If we had a few Arthurs Lester on the force, all the bad guys we were chasing would've either been caught already, or pissed themselves and turned honest to avoid him."
He punctuates that idyllic scene with a chug of coffee.
As the breakfast sandwich is evidence, he might just like feeding that troll. He's good.
"I have no idea how he was in New York. But I agree with the general sentiment."
He'll have some coffee himself, obviously taking a moment to savor it, get a taste of the flavor notes, pick up on whether someone might think it's sweet or tart or sharp or bitter. He enjoys it, as one might do if one's taste was initially treated to a variety of alcohols.
"All I'll say is, the Order of the Fallen Star was behind the best trick doors some rich magical shitheads could come up with, and you two are gonna go through them like they're one plus one."
He watches John contemplate the flavour of the coffee, and part of him wants to ask how he likes it, but they've run a long way from the topic and he's... preoccupied by it. Particularly now that he's remembering the magic those chucklefucks wielded.
"This ain't, uh, any kind of..." He's struggling with how to say it neutrally. And he doesn't think John would suggest this, not to him, but he has to ask anyway for his own peace of mind. "I mean, it'd be all me, right? Not some kinda... contract or channelling or... I-I don't wanna touch that."
He shakes his head. Firmly. And then he shakes it again.
"I wouldn't assume you would. No, I would be teaching you a skill and you would learn the skill. I'm not even sure it would work in our world. The magic performed there is..." he frowns, because he knows he, he can do it, he is it in a sense, but he doesn't tend to use it. The potential chance harm is a little too great for him to be comfortable.
He shakes his head one more time.
"What I'd be teaching is what I learned here. And it uses the ambient energy available here to work, from what I understand."
Both eyebrows go up, impressed, because despite the small amount of chanty bullshit his first thought is how useful this'd be if Alan found himself without his lamps and torches.
"Whaddaya know. Turns out I'm an easy mark."
The cool thing about a really good poker face is that even you don't have to know quite how nervous you are about pursuing this! More readily than before, now that he has a concrete use case:
"Yeah, I'd learn that."
If it works, he'll want to try setting up a teaching date between John and Mr Wake, as well. Or figure out teaching it himself. It's basically tailored for the guy.
John lights up almost as much as the communicator at Charlie's agreement.
"Then I'll teach you and Arthur." He rolls his eyes a little. "Arthur almost certainly knows more charter spells than he realizes but he should learn these too." A pause. "That's something he learned at a port. I think he forgets it's there half the time."
"They came from a world that we visited. They're similar to these, but since we left the port, they've lost a significant amount of their... 'oomf', so to speak. They require a mark, which we all received at the port. Arthur was..." he pauses then, because this is a little more complicated.
"There are times when, um... when someone experiences a port as more of a breach. That is to say: they suddenly exist in that world, as someone who lives there. It's called 'going overboard' but I can't say I know for certain if that's what actually happens to cause it. In that instance, Arthur went 'overboard'."
Oh he hates that. He cannot exaggerate how much he hates that. He'd sort of mentally categorised ports as the safest of the three, in ascending order of horrifying from port to flood to breach. If this absolutely has to be a thing then he knows he'll be glad John warned him, but -- new fear fucking unlocked.
...So, his poker face can hold up to a lot, but there are angles at which it cracks much more easily. His eyes get wider and his mouth gets thinner, and then he opens it to say something, and then he looks quickly down and to the side instead. Picks up his mug again in a sort of futile imitation of just ducking his head to drink, and then doesn't actually drink and puts it down again.
John's getting a feel for when something's thrown Charlie for a loop. And because he knows what's going on, he doesn't have to ask. He can just nod, sip his coffee, dip his head in a thankful gesture as if to say 'thanks for pouring out for me, buddy' without using his voice, and watch to see if there's anything Charlie needs.
All right. Game face. Business time. It won't just be spooky bullshit, it'll be his spooky bullshit, and more importantly it'll be making him better at his job.
Or maybe it'll fail completely and he'll be mildly disappointed to lose the opportunity, and mildly relieved to lose the opportunity.
"How bout this." He reaches along the breakfast bar and slides over that stupid pack of novelty cards that he never played with David.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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La la la coffee-related actions. Charlie works one-handed at first, because he's still licking sandwich off his fingers.
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He shrugs.
"Who knows, of course. But it's a nice thought."
He folds his hands.
"I'm glad it's good, though."
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"Ah, you got plenty of time to think about it," says Charlie lightly, over the chugging of the coffee machine.
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"Right. Anyway.
"I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in learning how to use magic," he says plainly.
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...Listen, he doesn't know what he expected, but that one surprised him.
"Didn't realise that was somethin' I could learn," he says, which is not a yes but is also not a no, but is thoughtful. He has immediate instinctive misgivings the length of his arm. He also finds that having no magic tricks in a place where a lot of people have a lot of magic tricks kinda sucks sometimes, especially when you're meant to be keeping them in line somewhat.
He slides one of the mugs across the bar to John, and leans on his hands on the other side, an eyebrow raised. "You gonna show me how to turn into a tiger?"
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"That wasn't me. That's Florian. He makes items that can do magic."
He shakes his head again, this time less about being slightly sheepish about magical things he can do and more in the negative.
"And I'm not sure how much you can do. I know that there's magic in the Barge that can be used with the right spells and gestures and things. Plenty of people do that."
He gestures to Charlie with one hand.
"I thought it might not be a bad thing, for you to get a handle on that kind of thing yourself. Sort of like when I learned about food." Wry. "It started because I hated listening to Arthur's mouth noises while he chewed."
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"You're kidding?"
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"He talks with his mouth full. And it's so much worse from the inside."
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"And what, you wanted to hear more of it?"
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Beat.
"He was going to talk anyway, after all. His mind's always going."
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"Yeah, faster than I can keep up with." He admits it easily, not self-depreciating but impressed. "Watchin' him wind up and go in New York made me feel like I was in the wrong linea work. If we had a few Arthurs Lester on the force, all the bad guys we were chasing would've either been caught already, or pissed themselves and turned honest to avoid him."
He punctuates that idyllic scene with a chug of coffee.
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"I have no idea how he was in New York. But I agree with the general sentiment."
He'll have some coffee himself, obviously taking a moment to savor it, get a taste of the flavor notes, pick up on whether someone might think it's sweet or tart or sharp or bitter. He enjoys it, as one might do if one's taste was initially treated to a variety of alcohols.
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He watches John contemplate the flavour of the coffee, and part of him wants to ask how he likes it, but they've run a long way from the topic and he's... preoccupied by it. Particularly now that he's remembering the magic those chucklefucks wielded.
"This ain't, uh, any kind of..." He's struggling with how to say it neutrally. And he doesn't think John would suggest this, not to him, but he has to ask anyway for his own peace of mind. "I mean, it'd be all me, right? Not some kinda... contract or channelling or... I-I don't wanna touch that."
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"I wouldn't assume you would. No, I would be teaching you a skill and you would learn the skill. I'm not even sure it would work in our world. The magic performed there is..." he frowns, because he knows he, he can do it, he is it in a sense, but he doesn't tend to use it. The potential chance harm is a little too great for him to be comfortable.
He shakes his head one more time.
"What I'd be teaching is what I learned here. And it uses the ambient energy available here to work, from what I understand."
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"...What kinda thing would I be learning to do?"
He can give a lot of things consideration if there's utility in it.
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"That's one of the spells."
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"Whaddaya know. Turns out I'm an easy mark."
The cool thing about a really good poker face is that even you don't have to know quite how nervous you are about pursuing this! More readily than before, now that he has a concrete use case:
"Yeah, I'd learn that."
If it works, he'll want to try setting up a teaching date between John and Mr Wake, as well. Or figure out teaching it himself. It's basically tailored for the guy.
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"Then I'll teach you and Arthur." He rolls his eyes a little. "Arthur almost certainly knows more charter spells than he realizes but he should learn these too." A pause. "That's something he learned at a port. I think he forgets it's there half the time."
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"What are charter spells when they're at home?"
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"They came from a world that we visited. They're similar to these, but since we left the port, they've lost a significant amount of their... 'oomf', so to speak. They require a mark, which we all received at the port. Arthur was..." he pauses then, because this is a little more complicated.
"There are times when, um... when someone experiences a port as more of a breach. That is to say: they suddenly exist in that world, as someone who lives there. It's called 'going overboard' but I can't say I know for certain if that's what actually happens to cause it. In that instance, Arthur went 'overboard'."
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...So, his poker face can hold up to a lot, but there are angles at which it cracks much more easily. His eyes get wider and his mouth gets thinner, and then he opens it to say something, and then he looks quickly down and to the side instead. Picks up his mug again in a sort of futile imitation of just ducking his head to drink, and then doesn't actually drink and puts it down again.
"Huh," he says, blandly. "Didn't know that."
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"Somethin' else to look forward to, I guess. Did you wanna get a lesson in now, or another time?"
Yeah, the tyres are screeching on that conversational reroute, what of it.
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John smiles and gestures to his communicator as he kills the spell on it. Then he looks to Charlie.
"Pick something you'd want to make emit light."
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Or maybe it'll fail completely and he'll be mildly disappointed to lose the opportunity, and mildly relieved to lose the opportunity.
"How bout this." He reaches along the breakfast bar and slides over that stupid pack of novelty cards that he never played with David.
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