o, silver-blooded !

#ARGENTIER.       ❝ while our magic may be modest, it has the power to fundamentally reshape our world. ❞       private, dash-only qifrey of witch hat atelier, by rhys. 

   Indignance is first instinct, with a reply of let’s see you figure out centuries’ worth of sonic engineering right here and now then, thank-you-very-much already about to spring off their tongue. But they hold it back, not wanting to frighten him off. They’re actually trying the tactful approach. Potentially unbearable at a stretch, but worth it if there’s a chance of gaining the knowledge that remains frustratingly out of reach. And the final barrier to it? This ridiculous, pointy-hatted, so-called ‘witch’. And, well, the hat’s one thing. There’s enough of a hint of their former life to take a measure of glee in that even if they’re not paying it much attention. What’s slightly more annoying than his recalcitrance, however, is his glasses. Why not just get a new pair? Either sort them out, or commit to the underlying pirate bit properly and get an eyepatch.

   Ah, there they go, getting distracted again. Their fault, but they’re not about to let this prancing professor gain any advantage of the slip-up. Face wearied by time waits, lips pursed, considering his words. Yes, they can appreciate rules. But Qifrey obviously hasn’t known them long enough to realise just how far they can bend them. Which they will, if need be. For now they merely shrug. “It’s fine,” they say, meaning the opposite. “S’okay, I get it. I mean, far be it for me not to appreciate a good con when I find one. I’ve pulled a fair few myself in my time. I just—from a professional standpoint, it’d be nice to see how you do it, y’know? How many smoke and mirrors you have to pull for people to think you actually have magic.” A chuckle threatens to burst through there, but they keep it down to a smile that’s only partially mocking. They quickly gather themselves, cool mask back in place, casual disinterest probably not convincing either party for a moment. “Or if you even know how to do it. You could just be talking fast and taking the credit, which, c’mon. I invented that. So really, what’s the harm? Just between you and me: how d’you do it?”

❝ i find it counterintuitive to speak fast when trying to teach others. ❞ the doctor is older than all his pupils by far yet qifrey can’t help the tone that falls into his voice at the insistence. the curiosity. he’s equal parts amused and heartened that age seems to do little to cool the fires of discovery. he continues as though this is another lecture with his girls. hands gesture. catch the words he wishes to speak from the air.

❝ magic isn’t something that just anyone can do. magic is — ❞ innate. it’s something one is born with. it isn’t something you can simply learn. the lies are patient. they wait on the tip of his tongue. practiced almost as often as each stroke of his pen against paper. lying, like magic, is something qifrey was born gifted for yet still spent years perfecting. he hesitates, words held as skipping stones between slender fingers before he casts them to the water. something tells him the lies would fail to dance across the surface with this one. ❝ i mean, there are certain items which have been magically imbued to allow others to use them. glowing cobblestone, soothe stones, mirror mantles . . . all of these the work of witches. ❞

it’s  funny,  how  comforting  his  embrace  has  become  after  such  a  short  time.  coco  tucks  her  head  beneath  his  chin  when  he  pulls  her  in,  and  for  a  fleeting  moment,  any  lingering  stress  from  her  doubts  washes  away.  even  when  she  saves  her  mother,  even  when  she’s  become  a  proper  witch  and  left  qifrey’s atelier,  she  hopes  that  this  comfort  remains.  she  hopes  she  can  always  rely  on  him  as  she  does  now  (  she  knows,  of  course,  that  nothing  can  stay  the  same;  life’s  cycle  will  not  stop  just  because  she  wishes  ).

she  knows  there  is  something  different  in  the  air,  though.  the  flashes  she’s  seen  and  the  dreams  that  feel  too  real  and  have  her  wake  in  a  cold  sweat  and  incredible  fear.  but  here,  now,  it  doesn’t  matter.  it  doesn’t  matter  because  her  teacher  believes  in  her,  her  friends  believe  in  her,  and  for  the  first  time  she  truly  believes  in  herself,  too.  so  much  is  different  now  because  of  this  magic  they  share,  and  though  it  hasn’t  been  long,  she  can’t  imagine  a  life  without  ever  having  known  him.

then,  he  thanks  her,  and  coco’s  brows  lift.     ❝  you’re  thanking  me?  professor—  thank  you.  for  everything.  i  don’t…  i  don’t  know  where  i’d  be  now  if  i  didn’t  have  you.  and-  and  the  others,  too!  it’s  almost  like  we’re  family.  ❞     she  had  a  father  before,  and  she  doesn’t  really  seek  to  replace  him  —  but…  there  is  room  for  qifrey  in  her  heart,  right  next  to  the  father  she’d  lost.  right  next  to  her  mother,  and  the  other  girls  and  olruggio  too.  her  heart  is  big  enough  for  all  of  them,  and  even  if  it  wasn’t,  well…  she’d  make  room.     ❝  i  know  that  i  can  be  kind  of  a  cause  for  trouble,  or  at  least  i  think  i  can  be.  but  you’ve  never  made  me  feel  like  i’m  less  than  your  other  pupils.  even  from  the  very  beginning,  you  made  me  feel  like  i  was  home.  ❞

coco  dips  her  head  now,  and  pulls  away  just  slightly,  embarrassed  at  the  outpouring  of  emotion.  she  drags  her  foot  against  the  floor,  clears  her  throat.     ❝  so…  thank  you.  for  all  of  that.  and  for  having  faith  in  me,  too.  my  mother…  i  like  to  think  she’d  be  happy  i  have  you  for  my  teacher.  ❞

she  reaches  out  now  to  take  his  hand,  and  give  him  a  soft  tug.     ❝  but…  enough  of  that,  right?  why  don’t  we  go  get  dinner  started  for  everyone?  ❞

for @magickli​ continued from here

LIKE  I  WAS  HOME .  apology  leaps  to  the  tip  of  his  tongue .  almost  makes  it  past  clenched  jaw .  because  he  knows  the  shadows  of  the  world  and  that  his  home  can  only  do  so  much  to  keep  her  safe .  his  home  is  not  enough  to  give  her  all  she  needs  in  this  world  but  each  step  outside  she  takes  summons  darkness  to  her .  like  with  euini    —  like  when  he  almost  lost  her  to  dragon’s  flame  —  like  her  mother .  qifrey  knows  that  his  home  is  four  walls  and  a  promise  he  barely  knows  if  he  can  keep . 

you  could  never  be  trouble .  he  opens  his  mouth  to  tell  her  as  much .  closes  it .  the  blame  is  his ,  after  all .  she  would  be  safer  beneath  the  sea .  she  would  be  safer  if  she  knew  nothing  at  all .  the  blame  remains  as  his . 

my  mother  would  be  happy .  he’d  like  to  think  so .  more  likely  she  would  throttle  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life  for  the  danger  he  brings  her  daughter  to  but  coco’s  words  are  kind  enough .  coco  is  kind  enough ,  in  a  way  that  he  knows  the  world  is  ill-suited  for .  light  beneath  cobblestone .  a  fire  meant  to  comfort  instead  of  scorch  to  the  ground .  she  has  a  kindness  and  a  hope  in  her  that  qifrey  wants  desperately  to  keep  safe .  he  fears  each  time  it  dims  will  be  the  day  the  light  goes  out .

coco  mentions  dinner  and  he  blinks .  the  feel  of  her  hand  reminds  him  that  she  is  still  here  and  still  coco .  that  his  fears  stand  unrealized  as  monsters  in  his  own  shadows . 

he  can’t  tell  them  how  he  does  any  of  this .

qifrey  shakes  his  head  —  woeful  —  his  smile  half-pitying  the  being  before  him .  ❝ you  seem  the  type  that  can  appreciate  how  rules  work . ❞  it’s  in  the  eyebrows .    ❝ i  can  answer  a  good  many  questions  i’d  like  to  believe ,  but  i’m  afraid  i  cannot  answer  the  one  you  want  to  ask . ❞  he  already  reached  out  to  coco  and  that  was  dangerous  enough .  he  aches  to  teach .  to  show  off  ( just  a  little ) .  he  holds  his  tongue .

  ❝ i  trust  you  understand . ❞

—  apollo  was  someone  he  could  trust .

apollo  was  someone  he  did  trust .  had  opened  his  door  to  them  and  spent  long  nights  in  their  company .  let  them  near  his  students .  his  heart .

his  anger  is  an  old  blanket  that  he’s  held  in  his  sleep  since  childhood .  he  knows  each  hole  where  the  fibers  have  worn  thin  from  the  clutch  of  his  fingers .  he  would  hide  from  the  monsters  beneath  the  comfort  of  his  rage .  he  never  expected  the  monster  to  be  his  lover .

❝ what  — did  you  —  say . ❞  he  knows  the  answer .  he  doesn’t  want  the  answer  yet  he  repeats  anyway  because  he  has  to  know .  he  needs  to  hear  the  shape  of  the  betrayal  from  their  lips  and  know  the  twist  of  it  in  his  stomach .

he  waits ,  pounding  of  storm  blue  sea  in  his  eye .

why  did  you ?  you hold the question on the tip of your tongue as you size up the stranger .  you  think  you’ve  seen  him  around  before .  or  heard  his  name  whispered .  or  you’d  like  to  know  him  —  you  smile .  it  still  feels  tense  in  the  wake  of  your  anger  but  it  comes  easier  now  that  the  danger  has  passed .  slowly ,   you  offer  your  hand  to  the  other  man .

❝  qifrey .  and  the  little  one  behind  me  is  coco .  a  pleasure  to  meet  you . ❞