[OTA] Trick of the light

[living_proof]

WHO: Liv Moore
WHERE: 6I Fountain Park
WHEN: 3 July, eveningish
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Nothing yet

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So, about a week after I emerged ever-so-gracefully from the village fountain, there was a seminar-thing on native plants. I did not go to this seminar. I probably should have gone to this seminar, because hey, knowing what will and won't kill you is always a bonus. But I didn't, and I think saying it was only about a week after I arrived is really all the excuse I need.

Now, Ravi is friends with the plant guy, so I know more than I really honestly want to about a lot of these local plants by osmosis. You hang around Ravi, and the information just comes whether you like it or not. I think maybe he mentioned the flower that generated electricity, but who really knows. I just know that through a series of honestly pretty boring events, I picked some lilies to help perk up my sad, dinner-for-one bungalow, and now I'm basically Thor.

Things did not go great right away, I will admit. My house doesn't have electricity. Ravi's house has electricity, but apparently I was on the naughty list this year or something, which... Okay, fair. I think it's a natural inclination in that context, that when one discovers they can conduct electricity, they try to get the lights on.

I now would not have my lights on even if I did have magic electricity like Ravi, because I blew out every old-school bulb in the house. Gold star, self; you tried.

Leaving the place I sleep at night in one piece seemed like a good idea after that, and that's why I'm outside right now, sitting on one of the benches that surround the new arrival vomit fountain, playing with the little fizzles of light between my fingers. I'm here on purpose: If I catch myself on fire, I can at least cannonball back whist I came and put myself out.

Trying something a little bigger, I aim toward a branch nearby — The weather's been on-and-off crappy, so there's plenty of flotsam tossed around that I'm sure some good citizen who probably isn't me will tidy up. Focusing, I gesture the way I want to electricity to go, and—

A massive bolt leaps from my hands and across the courtyard, where it effectively saws a tree in half. Eyes wide, I stare as the tree wobbles, crashes back into the forest and then lays there, smoldering.

Comments

[underpinnings]

Last time he agreed to go to the clinic, he'd been shoved over the lip of the fountain by a cow, and had wanted to know what supplies might be easily stolen on his way out of the village. When nothing makes sense, it's easier to fall back on habits than ask for answers.

And when someone says you've been struck by lightning, and your chest hurts--you consent to a little medical attention.

"Sure," he says, sucking the next breath slow through his teeth to see if it makes any of him feel better. Not really, but nothing seems worse for scooting himself out from under a tree. There's a series of branches very helpfully fallen back into place, to pull on as he gives standing a go. "Kind of dizzy," seems like a thing to tell his new doctor. "Keep an eye, on the way. Came out looking for those fungal pods, better if we know we need that lichen while we're still breathing."

[living_proof]

"Last time I checked, there weren't many of those growing in the road, but sure," I reply with a worried pinch of my brow. I can't tell if this guy is a little out of it, or just weirdly obsessed with his botanic containment mission.

"Come on, alley-oop," I add, up on my feet and helping him to get back onto his own. "Hopefully we'll get a few tests done and you can get back to what you were doing sooner rather than later."

[underpinnings]

At the very least, he might be a little unaware of where he landed, considering the blast that knocked him back before the tree pinned him down. "I meant--"

Table that; there's no argument for how much his chest does not like standing up as quickly as he has. He sighs out something of a groan, hand automatic in how it finds her sleeve, his remaining fingers curling a grip. Deep breath, but slow; easy exhale. He pinches his eyes shut just to narrow the input, and wheezes through his teeth until the feeling passes.

As he opens them, he claws the straps free of his face, leaving his mask around his neck. The red indents aren't alone; light burns fractal out from the lines, darkening under the skin. "I think," he says, his first step drawing him out from her before he simply stops trying, "the lightning did more than the tree."