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[mrballisticsdummy]

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[no_innocents]

"It might!" and he actually looks very enthusiastic at that point. Because Jacobi's going into another concept.

"But! That is where the 'looser' nature of magic comes into play. You will note: I said 'comprehend' languages, not translate. Because translation, on such a wide scale and with such a variety of variables, is nigh impossible, for magic or technology, not with any real certainty. But the magic can use that variability, tap into the moment wherein that word existed as such in the moment in that language and to the speaker, and transfer that comprehension to you. It erases the middle man in a way that technology would have to slog through."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Huh. Well, that feels good to elicit that sort of reaction from someone. Especially someone teaching him something.

"Intention, then, rather than word for word," he says without actually expecting a response. He's still typing away slowly. "Gotcha. So - can we do it now?" he wonders, eager to actually see it done.

[no_innocents]

"It's also why cyphers and puzzles don't work: the intention is to obfuscate."

But he'll nod and reach over to pull a small piece of parchment from his desk. Then he'll take a bit of the ash from the bottle and put it at his fingertip. He'll trace a sigil on the paper, and speaks a single word with his finger on the last point:

"Lusbnaraht."

And Jacobi can watch as the symbol is erased, poofing out of existence a moment later.

"As you can see, the components are consumed."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Huh." That makes more sense than he thought it would, or maybe he's finally starting to figure all this out. Still, he moves closer, standing at his shoulder, and commits the sigil to memory.

"And that's all?" he wonders, a little skeptical.

[no_innocents]

He just gestures to the little bottle and to the parchment and shoos Jacobi to try it for himself.

"If it disappears, you can take a look at those books."

[mrballisticsdummy]

So it is.

"What's in the bottle?" he wonder, taking it and giving it a quick inspection before he tips it open into his hands. "Specifically."

[no_innocents]

"A combination of soot and salt. Just... salt. Like you'd put on your food, though I've ground them together for ease of use."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"That's so simple," he says softly, almost to himself. Then, to Dracula, a bit louder, he asks. "Is there a specific ratio?"

He rubs the contents between his fingers.

[no_innocents]

"I've always used a 50/50 ratio, though the spell as I was taught never specified."

He goes into professor voice as he continues.

"There's even some who consider it better to draw the mark with the soot and sprinkle the salt as you speak the verbal component. 'Art', as I said."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Better how?" he mutters. "Does it make it last longer?" He closes his eyes, recalls the sigil and practices it on the parchment with the hand not covered in the soot.

[no_innocents]

"No," he says blithely enough, "but there are those who simply think it's better. You have met academics, have you not?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

True.

"Way too many, yeah," he agrees and then settles over the parchment, drawing the sigil with the soot. He speaks the word, exactly as he heard it, but it doesn't disappear.

"Hm."

He inspects his work, thinking it might be a flaw in the actual mark.

[no_innocents]

Dracula's claw points out a little spot where there's a thinner bit of smudge on the pattern.

"Just a light press of your finger there should do it. And as long as the mark is down, you should be able to speak the word."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He makes the adjustment and he says the word again and this time, it actually works.

"Whoa," he says softly, watching the sign disappear. "So, where does it go?" he asks, brushing off his hands as he hesitantly reaches over for the books. He's a little afraid to open them. Afraid to see if it actually...works.

[no_innocents]

"Energy is energy. Magic interacts with energy from a different angle. It goes the same place fuel goes once you've burned through it."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"An energy transfer," he agrees and opens the book fully, flipping through the page. .

"Oh. Oh. I see."

He pulls the book from the table and takes it over to a chair so he can sit and read it properly. .

[no_innocents]

And Dracula will chuckle and wave a hand towards him, making the fire a little warmer for comfort since the place is otherwise a bit of a tomb (badum ching) and he leaves him to read for the time being.

There are few joys he savors more than being in the room with someone whose company he enjoys, quietly reading.

[mrballisticsdummy]

He doesn't even realize the hour is gone until the words shuffle again in his head. He blinks and they change, suddenly no longer making sense to him at all. He rubs at his eyes, as if a little disbelieving.

"Okay, well, that was trippy and in a very weird way. So that's...just a thing I can do now?"

[no_innocents]

"Apparently," Dracula says with a low chuckle as he stands up from his own seat and walks over. "Keep the bottle for your use, though obviously you can make your own. But I prepared it for you, after all. You can also borrow the books for a time; they'll introduce some subjects and principles of what we'll be working with."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Thanks," he grins. "When's the next lesson?"

Because now that he knows he can do fucking magic, he's going to master this and come back for more as much as he can.

[no_innocents]

"As soon as you feel prepared for me to quiz you on the content of those books."

He's in no rush.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"All of them?" he wonders.

He does not sound scared by that task; he appreciates a challenge. He stands up to gather the remainder and the bottle.

[no_innocents]

He raises a single eyebrow.

"All of both, yes. There is... a lot of philosophy in there. And while it doesn't involve direct application, it will... give you a context for what you'll be learning."

[mrballisticsdummy]

All both of the big books, yes. Big books he can only read a bit at a time.

He balances them in his arms. "Got it," he grins as he starts for the door. "Thanks for this."

[no_innocents]

He waves his hand as if to say of course, of course.

"You're one of the few I've met who I trust to have the precision not to blow themselves up with it."

It's sort of a compliment. Sort of just fondness.