Bennett didnât like this any more than Cel did. Though he knew himself well enough to understand a little pain, especially self-inflicted, was not going to put him in danger of triggering his genes, shocking himself with low levels of electricity wasnât how he would like to be spending his Saturday afternoon. It needed to happen though, that was something both he and his girlfriend could agree on. Even if Cel wasnât suspicious of herself, Wanda, over the years, had given them more than enough reason to believe that her magic being tied to emotion could lead to subconscious magic, protective layers and shields that Celestia wasnât even aware she was projecting.Â
If that was true, if there were protective layers surrounding him, they needed to unravel them, find a way for her to remove them ready for him to potentially trigger his genes. Holding back for so long meant he wasnât sure how easy it would be. For all he knew, Nik may very well have to punch him, and it wouldnât be helpful if he was blasted across the room in an accidental attempt to keep him safe. Then if the Other Guy⌠his Other Guy needed to be contained, he could only imagine the chaos it might cause if nobody was able to get close to him. Which was why they were sitting on the green outside of the Academy, far away from anything breakable, instead of bundled up in bed together, or sharing breakfast in the canteen. âCel, donât give me that look.â He muttered, unravelling the wires of the little box he had built. It was only small, but it was enough. There was a thick metal rod he had connected to it, ready for him to hold, and a timer that could count down to each new jolt of power. âIt isnât going to do any actual damage, and we need to figure this out.â He looked up at her, squinting due to the fact that he wasnât wearing his glasses. The metal would only act as a conductor and he didnât want to risk burning the bridge of his nose. âYou know we do, come on. This wonât take long, I swear.â @mxximxffsâ
Celestia pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, wringing her hands nervously as she sat in the field. She glared at the machine, very nearly destroying it without reason. Which was exactly why they were there that day. She had to fight the instinct that had become so deeply interlaced with who she was, she didnât even know if she could turn it off, let alone how to go about doing so. She batted her eyes at Bennett. Maybe that could convince him that they could go back to bed, stay locked away in her room before they left for crepes and tea. She didnât want to do this. Couldnât stomach the thought of seeing him in pain.Â
But they had to do this. Not doing so would mean when the time came, she would be useless. She couldnât be useless. Not in something that was so important. She wouldnât allow harm to come to h- no. That was exactly where the problem lied. She would have to allow harm to come to him. How could she possibly sit by and let him suffer? Her soul was intrinsically tied to his. Which begged the question, if he was suffering terribly, would she? Would any pain he may be going through radiate into her, rendering her useless? Oh Gods, sheâd never considered that. She groaned, running her hands down her face, pouting dramatically. âI hate that stupid machine,â she said. âWhat if... what if when you turn, I soak up too much of your emotions and I canât do what I need to? We hadnât even thought of that? What if all this practice is worthless? Why canât we just go back for tea?,â she whined, pouting even more. She closed her eyes, shook her head. She was so scared of failing that not even trying seemed a better option. But that had never been her. Not deep down. Deep down she was the girl with glowing red hands, ready to protect Bennett at all costs. Thatâs how she had to view this. By letting him get hurt, she was protecting him. That made it easier. âAlright,â she started, her hands glowing a bright red as she closed her eyes, connecting with the atmosphere. âIâm... ready?âÂ












