ELECTRIFYING

Niimi steps inside. Normally, they'd be unabashedly enjoying the view of Cory shirtless and in low slung lounge pants. But they're just too amped up.

"Nothing new just... I need your help with something."

They drop onto a couch and open the book they'd found in the bookstore earlier.

"So I was looking into some cleansing spells in case shit really starts going downhill. Can't have this place getting filled with ghosts."

Their hands are shaking as they try to get to the page.

"Cleansing spells," he said softly when they stopped speaking.

His eyes immediately noticed their trembling hand as they flipped through pages. More than anything, he wanted campers and counselors alike to take what happened seriously but maybe he'd overdone it. Cory wanted the campers alert, not terrified. He walked over and cupped his hands around Nii's as he sat beside them.

"I'm glad you wanna learn, but not all ghosts are bad, Nii." He motioned toward the door, to the campgrounds outside. "This place is decorated with enough plants and items that ward evil that I'm surprised half of you assholes can even step foot on the grounds."

Niimi walks up the front steps of Cory's cabin. They had an open invitation to enter whenever they wanted, but that was usually used for social calls. This time, they had actual magic questions and concerns.

Of course, they would also appreciate some soothing considering the recent events, but they'll save that for later.

They knock on the front door, waiting to see one of their favorite counselors.

"It's a little late for you to be wandering around, Nii."

The man stepped aside with the doorknob still in-hand to let the camper enter. The roommate was still gone for the night so it was just Corydalis in the cabin.

"What's going on? You look upset. Something else happen?"

In truth, he was quite impressed with the number of items magically orbiting around the room with intention. He could only imagine the kind of awareness and concentration it'd take to manipulate one thing, let alone a dozen.

The man's head wobbled in a joking manner as his eyes rolled back while Maia rambled in Spanish. He only understood a little of it.

"In that case, after I die, bury me by the lake."

Teasing aside, he leaned in and chomped the offered sample out of the air. As he chewed he make the OK symbol with his hand in Maia's direction.

"Yeah.. I just. It was the only thing jumping out at me at the bookstore."

Arthur replies in a sheepish tone. There's a hint of embarrassment in his posture, curling into himself slightly as he dog-earring his place before closing the book and tucking it into his arm. He wasn't sure why he had bought the book, but if he had to guess, Arthur's subconscious probably nagging at him to use clearly communicate with others. His hand reaches up to remove his glasses, a nervous habit he'd developed recently.

"Are you handling everything okay?" He asks hesitantly.

Arthur, often being a witch who kept to himself, wasn't exactly sure how to ask another witch how they felt. There usually was a dozen other things he'd focus on having to do with camp before Arthur could wrap his mind on what someone else needed. Usually books were the only other thing the witch could manage to focus on outside of himself. His habit of looking over his shoulder apparently being replaced with that of engrossing himself in anything with a thick spine and blotted with ink.

"I could lend you something to read if you'd like?"

He wasn't trying to embarrass the other counselor, but definitely didn't want to answer the question. He didn't like the way his answer made him feel. Cory tried to be something of a protector, or, at least, that's what he felt like he needed to be. Kawehi was skilled enough to start teaching others, yet something still happened to him. Before his mind started to spiral, he cleared his throat and shifted closer.

"Never been much of a reader outside of a good grimoire. Besides, I can't really stay focused on a book. The words usually start looking like worms wigglin' around on the page and I get lost."

Cory shrugged before he sighed. The man's head canted as he looked at Arthur.

"Don't hate the idea of you reading to me, though. All wrapped up in a blanket...on a bed. Nice and comfortable. Something classic. And when I don't understand some cultural or literary nuance you can explain it to me."

bowie's amusement will quick turn to concern as his arms reach out to pick up the man's arm again.  ❛  oh no! are you still hurting?  ❜  his palm will begin to rub over the area of where the wound once was, not implementing any of his capability quite yet but gaging the healed wound. which remains some of his cleanest work yet.  ❛  ohhhh.. i see what you mean.  ❜  a gentle smile is given to the other, an attempt at veiling his own self disappointment. 

❛  nobody has come in yet with like… all of that. at least not on my shift. i think i'd be a lot more careful then, but practice makes perfect.  ❜  while not an excuse by any means, the witch remains genuine as he doesn't mean any harm or offense. just tends to be careless at times. something he'll try and repair now with a gentle rub to the man's forearm and a light squeeze before setting cory's arm down, returning the man's personal space.

❛  i know how to be delicate. just not usually with people. plants are easier. they're softer.  ❜

When his arm was released, his hand rubbed over the muscle Bowie just massaged. Abilities tended to be quite unique, even when shared among other witches, but even the weakest use of healing would never fail to impress him. Cory was a weapon, a natural disaster ready to explode at the drop of a hat, but he couldn't fix anything. It must've felt nice, a very real gift for the patient and caster.

"I hope you never have to deal with anyone in a real bad spot."

The comment made him smile. Soft things must've taken even more care and caution. Cory leaned back on the sorry excuse for a bed. His arms were straight, supporting him with palms planted on the padding behind him as he got a little more comfortable. The man's hips shimmied a little as his legs widened a bit further.

"Well, we can be pretty soft."

His lips pursed and his brows jumped playfully as he stared at Bowie's hands.

"Can get pretty hard, too."

Whisk make water froth an tumble

Round the bowl the hours go

Always forward as time does flow

Speak your conditions, declare your right

Mashed up some roses with salt and rain water and then added a bit of vodka for preservation to make a rose potion! Fantastic for spells involving any type of love, sex, and can even make a great offering to deities that are associated with roses!

the other's forearm sits between bowie's two palms, one of bowie's hands keeping the weight of their arm steady as the other is hovering over the other's wound. you can tell by the look on the redhead's face that he was working hard at focusing, transmitting his lifeforce into the other. with his power to heal, it wasn't uncommon for the young camper to be posted up with nursing duties for the day but that didn't mean bowie necessarily liked it or was entirely good at it either. he could heal without issue, it was the bedside manner that was completely out of practice. as the wound on his patient's arm begins to resolve and repair itself, bowie would finally look back up at the other. ❛ it's really not that bad. last week someone nearly got their arm burned off and that took like twenty whole minutes to get looking good again! ❜  he'll enthuse, dropping the arm back onto the others lap without grace. good as new.

❛ and don't worry about it opening back up or anything. that hasn't happened yet. ❜ a sheepish smile, his eyes hollow from thought. ❛ that was a pretty big scratch though. what happened? ❜

“Don’t worry, kid— Been there, done that.”

Electricity could be very dangerous, as he discovered in his teenage years.

“Played catching mitt for someone flying for the first time.”

Flying wasn’t as accurate as magically-propelling falling. Cory used air pressure and draft to pull off what he called flying, which was more of a magic-assisted jump. His fingers brushed over where the gash used to be. He wouldn’t have even worried about his arm if it was just a scratch.

“You could be a little more gentle. Maybe pretend to give a shit about the kind of pain or fear someone might be experiencing when you’re working on them. I’m not talking about a little cut or broken finger, but when someone is really messed up. The last thing anyone should have to deal with, especially if they’re at the edge of death, is feeling like their dying is just an inconvenience to some little asshole.”

Cory frowned. With recent events, it was difficult for him to turn off his grumpy dad energy.

“If you want to use your abilities to help people you’ll need to learn a little compassion. If it doesn’t come naturally, ya need to think of it like a muscle. Exercise if with everyone you’re helping.”

despite  the  very  ominous  appearance  of  the  apparition  around  the  campfire,  maia  rojos  was  still  determined  to  begin  the  start  of  their  tenure  as  a  counselor  (  albeit  one  of  the  youngest  )  on  a  good  note,  hence  why  they  were  in  the  main  kitchen,  their  stomping  grounds  to  say  the  least.  whenever  maia  was  in  one,  they  felt  stable  and  rooted,  hence  why  they  could  use  their  telekinesis  with  ease  to  shuffle  pans  and  skillets  while  whipping  several  bowls:  it  was  all  a  beautiful  symphony,  an  expression  of  young  rojos'  craft.  but  they  weren't  so  lost  in  their  rhythm  to  not  notice  the  other  by  the  doorway,  soft  brown  eyes  looking  up  with  a  curious,  almost  doe-eyed  expression  before  a  smile  appears.  ❝  hey  there  !  lunch  isn't  quite  done  yet:  the  sauce  for  the  panini  alfredo  sandwiches  needs  a  bit  more  puree  but  I  made  plenty  of  petit  fours  &  lemonade  to  snack  on  !  unless  you  needed  something  else  ?  ❞  a  waggle  of  their  finger  to  bring  a  towel  to  wipe  a  bit  of  stray  flour  that  had  exploded  on  their  nose.  luckily,  their  apron  kept  much  of  the  mess  off  of  them. 

“It always looks like that damn scene from Matilda in here when you’re doing something. Honestly surprised you’ve not claimed someone’s eye yet with one of these things.”

He reached out and lazily tapped a passing utensil that continued to float through the air like on some invisible lazy river. Cory walked over and looked at whatever they were working on.

“You probably didn’t use enough salt or spice. Everything you make is always so bland.”

Somewhere out there, Arthur was sure his parents were accosting him from the afterlife about reading in a low lit place like this. Of course, the flickering flames of the bonfire in front of the witch didn't help in focusing on the book's words as the shadows danced along with the tongues of flame in the communal pyre.

Adjusting his glasses on his face, Arthur couldn't help but chuckle to himself. The parental nagging at the back of his head probably had some truth to it given the strength of the lenses he needed when reading magical tomes he'd acquired from the Cauldron Bubble bookstore. In this case, the magical tome Arthur's blue eyes were currently squinting at was the recent installment of "Tête-à-tit: a head to headboard guide to pillow talk".

Arthur would have had to known them in some way in order to know if this would be their reaction. Odd thoughts for him to be thinking while reading a book about saying they right things to someone while in bed. Perhaps the prospect of the camp being in danger had wormed its way into Arthur's mind. Not exactly "The Secret", but Arthur wouldn't take any possible sign for granted.

While the book was indeed an engrossing read, Arthur couldn't help feeling the eyes of another near the bonfire. Turning his head to the other person sharing the warmth of the blaze, Arthur decides to greet them.

"Cold night, ain't it?" He chimes nonchalantly at the fellow witch.

“Unfortunately, I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

Maybe he was hyper fixated on what happened to the new counselor, a camper they’d interacted with for years before. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the little details of the event while everyone else seemed to have forgotten it even happened. Or maybe they were just better at coping with loss. Death was never easy for him, regardless how little he may have known the person.

His gaze then shifted to the book in Arthur’s hands. Cory rolled his eyes.

“Doing a little research for later, Arthur?”

Laurent looked outside of his window, taking in the sights all around him. He wasn't sure if he still enjoyed coming here or if it was simply out of obligation but here he was. Despite the lingering feeling in the air. It didn't take a advanced witch to sense that something about this year was off. Cauldron Bubble was a sacred place and had been for a long time, not only just for witches but for the supernatural in general. The fact that such a place would a target didn't sit right in Laurent's mind. Maybe that's why he felt the need to return, to figure out what was after his beloved camp. Either way, the day needed to be started so Laurent stretched his body and left the shelter of his cabin. He took a deep breath, letting the deep magic invigorate his body. Being here at camp was electrifying in the best way possible. He knew he had a job here as a counselor but helping others with their magic was a great way to practice his own. He moved out into the camp before stumbling across another fellow witch.

"Morning. I hope it's a good one, despite the shocking news. It's a bit worrying that this place is becoming dangerous but at least we're all here together right?" He offered somewhat of a reassuring smile, trying not to reveal his own trepidations. "So what are you expecting to do today?"

Cory rubbed a hand over his upper stomach just below his pecs, skin itchy from a beat of sweat. The man shrugged, uncertain of what his day would hold for him until he could properly back at his cabin.

“Truthfully, no idea. But I know I’m about to find a shower, then something to eat.”

The man smirked and glanced around the campgrounds. His attention quickly returned to Laurent.

“What about you? Looks like you’re ready for your day.”