Purple Lotus is used in a similar fashion where I am from, to induce sleep. Similarly Dreamfoil, Dreaming Glory and Nightmare Vines depending on your required strength.
Edited (Typed this on my phone was a mistake ) 2022-03-03 10:14 (UTC)
We could probably use the herbs we got in Elletheia, but I'm not sure induced sleep plagued with nightmares is the kind of activity I'd want to indulge in right now...
[Meanwhile, despite continuing to send him messages, she has actually put her shoes on, a cloak, and taken to the village empty streets to find the house by the poppy fields.]
No, not tonight. I'm not sure if I should knock, but I'm outside.
[ And there Wrathion had been, beginning to wonder if Hermione was putting off or avoiding coming to see him for some indiscernible human reason.
After a short moment he appears at the door, dressed in a casual robe he's keeping loose -- his hair neatly tied back ready for sleep that wasn't quite coming. He steps aside and inclines his head to encourage Hermione in, closes the door behind her and pads softly through to his room. There's little in it beyond the basics, a lantern lit, a small seating area, a bed, Wrathion's day clothes neatly hung up and a bag to one side. On the small table his astronomy book sits to one side, as does some brewing tea and two cups. ]
I'm sure if you were seen we'll cause a scandal, a night-time visit to my home before our wedding date.
[ Said with the mildest of tones. He is not actually worried about a scandal. Wrathion moves to sit, and although he has strong self-control it is perhaps a little... slower and more deliberate than his usual body language. Sitting on the floor at the low tables is not an especially comfortable currently. Little is entirely comfortable, truth be told.
He's hoping the mention of a wedding date is enough to keep her from paying attention to that. ]
[She had half a mind to skip, if she were honest. She knows there is an air about her by now, mildly bloody; she knows she's been more confrontational, and she knows what it's caused by. But she has more important things to do, than figure out how to atone for a horrible woman's decisions.
Such as brew potions, gather supplies, and teach herself wandless magic. Such as try her best to evade sleep, lest her regular nightmares catch up.
As soon as she steps into the faint light of the room, he'll spot them, too. The little cuts on her left temple, the two little scratch-like cuts under her right jawline, the scrapes on her hands. There's bruises, too, but she has stopped checking and keeping track, for that too would distract her.
So she does not allow herself to feel self-conscious of the way the body betrays. Instead, she sends him a withering glare, and sits down opposite him.]
I'm not entirely convinced they'd care all that much. [She glances down at the tea, and then at him, taking him in with a keen eye.] Well, what ails you?
[She doesn't acknowledge that, for a moment, but when he mentions his are progressing and hidden, she gives him a quick, observant look, trying to guess where from the way he sits.
No luck.]
They're not the only ones, but - yes. I suspect it has a lot to do with the curse, but I haven't had time to think about what to do about it. I've been... [Brewing potions, practicing spells, trying to keep it together. She flashes back to a conversation with Wrath, and looks at Wrathion with a new, curious expression.]
[ A little sudden, but he isn't the type to stop someone who wants to learn combat in a world so dangerous. Still, an intriguing choice when she already looks as if she's been in a fight. ]
I'm familiar with several weapon styles. Do you have a preference?
cant believe we're hitting up the pride aspect of her curses too
[She frowns at that question. Weapons - her weapon of choice is her intellect, she's always thought. It's her willingness to survive, to thrive. Even in the midst of war, she did not take life. If she starts doing it here...
She frets, pulling at the frayed ends of her sleeves.]
I've tended to resort to simply slapping someone. The idea of using something sharp, or even something blunt is... [She shakes her head.] Nevermind - it was just a talk I had with Wrath, it... If for whatever reason, my magic were taken from me, I'd be useless to everyone.
Bangs roof of thread, we can fit so much in this thing
The framing suggests this is someone other than him, but the name is familiar.
Who is this person?
What talk was this? Was she upset? Did she go to him for advice, and this is what the result was? Why did she not come to him?
No -- never mind, he understands, their friendship is new.
She is allowed to have other friends.
He isn't jealous.
It makes sense.
Only the sensation is... strange. She said before he should go to people for help. To her. Would she ever come to him for help, without prompting? Would she have asked him at all about this, if they had no already been speaking? ]
I see.
[ The tone is tense, unhappy. He frowns, turning this over. ]
If someone has told you this in earnest, they a fool who does not understand you. An an individual can have an enormous impact, magic or not, and you are an exceptional individual who has not hesitated to better themselves.
[However brief was the moment of introspection and self-doubt, that tone and the proclamation he makes has the effect of drawing her attention. Her gaze snaps up from the floor to his - and here, she doesn't really hesitate, she's gotten used to the red eyes and all - and the words repeat themselves in her mind again, in echo.
An exceptional individual.
Well, damn. She is definitely blushing now.] I - oh. Um. Thank you. [She clears her throat (was it dry?) and shifts in her seat a little.] That's - I mean, thank you.
Just to clarify, he didn't say I'd be useless. We were just talking of...well. The villagers took my wand and bag for that whole bath thing. I panicked - I promised them to integrate, just to get it back. Thought I had to pretend they were heirlooms to keep them, because...truth is, I can't do a lot of magic without the wand. [Oh the other hand, she can do a lot with it.]
[She purses her lips at that.] Honestly, I'm not sure. It's what we've been taught, since the start. Each witch or wizard needs a wand, and the wand picks the wizard.
[And here, she pauses, and reaches up her sleeve to pull out hers, from the holster she's fashioned herself to look like something of a bracelette. Sets it on the table, dark walnut and dragon heartstring core.]
It's not mine, this one. I lost it, in the - [Her mouth gets dry, the memory of the blade digging into her arm, the crucio spells wrecking havoc on her body. Her hands tremble a little, and she picks up the teacup. Apparently, this is something he'll have in common with Anduin: Hermione just telling them both things of her world, because they're safe and not from there and they can't really use it against her.]
I was tortured with this wand. It ended up with me because...well. I had lost mine, so I've been fighting with it and casting with it but I don't feel it as mine, despite trying. [A small sigh, and a sad little smile his way now.] Wish I had a way to replace it, but this place is all wrong. It has wands, but they're all wrong. More than this one.
[ Wrathion, who is nosy and considers a wand akin to a weapon, reaches out and picks it up curiously. He can sense something about it, definitely. It isn't an entirely mundane item. ]
What is the requirement? Perhaps I can make something.
[ Items that channel magic are hardly difficult. If he can make daggers that also cause someone to sprout wings and fall slowly to the ground, something to simply help her cast spells she knows seems barely a challenge. ]
[At that point, Hermione chokes on scaldingly hot tea.
She catches her breath quickly, and just gives him a look. Watches him studying the wand, like someone who is used to creating things. Now she sees it - he's not joking about this, is he?
She sucks in a breath, trying to think of what are the requirements for a good wand, and comes up blank. What comes out instead is:]
If you make me a wand, I might have to actually marry you.
[Have you ever witnessed a person's expression embody the form of: dgsjklgldg? Well, you have now.]
Not sure there's anyone ordained for it, anyway. [A little pause.] That was a joke - I'm sorry if it was in poor taste, I just - you caught me completely by surprise.
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No, not tonight. I'm not sure if I should knock, but I'm outside.
-> ACTION!
After a short moment he appears at the door, dressed in a casual robe he's keeping loose -- his hair neatly tied back ready for sleep that wasn't quite coming. He steps aside and inclines his head to encourage Hermione in, closes the door behind her and pads softly through to his room. There's little in it beyond the basics, a lantern lit, a small seating area, a bed, Wrathion's day clothes neatly hung up and a bag to one side. On the small table his astronomy book sits to one side, as does some brewing tea and two cups. ]
I'm sure if you were seen we'll cause a scandal, a night-time visit to my home before our wedding date.
[ Said with the mildest of tones. He is not actually worried about a scandal. Wrathion moves to sit, and although he has strong self-control it is perhaps a little... slower and more deliberate than his usual body language. Sitting on the floor at the low tables is not an especially comfortable currently. Little is entirely comfortable, truth be told.
He's hoping the mention of a wedding date is enough to keep her from paying attention to that. ]
action! (aka what wrathion is not getting)
Such as brew potions, gather supplies, and teach herself wandless magic. Such as try her best to evade sleep, lest her regular nightmares catch up.
As soon as she steps into the faint light of the room, he'll spot them, too. The little cuts on her left temple, the two little scratch-like cuts under her right jawline, the scrapes on her hands. There's bruises, too, but she has stopped checking and keeping track, for that too would distract her.
So she does not allow herself to feel self-conscious of the way the body betrays. Instead, she sends him a withering glare, and sits down opposite him.]
I'm not entirely convinced they'd care all that much. [She glances down at the tea, and then at him, taking him in with a keen eye.] Well, what ails you?
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[ In quite the state, isn't she? ]
I'm assuming those are all from whatever curse the villagers foisted upon you?
[ Hermione doesn't seem the type to go out brawling with people. His eyes drag over her thoughtfully, curious. ]
Mine are at least hidden by clothing, but they are... progressing.
[ Instead of healing, they're getting deeper. Troubling. ]
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No luck.]
They're not the only ones, but - yes. I suspect it has a lot to do with the curse, but I haven't had time to think about what to do about it. I've been... [Brewing potions, practicing spells, trying to keep it together. She flashes back to a conversation with Wrath, and looks at Wrathion with a new, curious expression.]
Can you fight with weapons? Would you teach me?
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I'm familiar with several weapon styles. Do you have a preference?
cant believe we're hitting up the pride aspect of her curses too
She frets, pulling at the frayed ends of her sleeves.]
I've tended to resort to simply slapping someone. The idea of using something sharp, or even something blunt is... [She shakes her head.] Nevermind - it was just a talk I had with Wrath, it... If for whatever reason, my magic were taken from me, I'd be useless to everyone.
Bangs roof of thread, we can fit so much in this thing
The framing suggests this is someone other than him, but the name is familiar.
Who is this person?
What talk was this? Was she upset? Did she go to him for advice, and this is what the result was? Why did she not come to him?
No -- never mind, he understands, their friendship is new.
She is allowed to have other friends.
He isn't jealous.
It makes sense.
Only the sensation is... strange. She said before he should go to people for help. To her. Would she ever come to him for help, without prompting? Would she have asked him at all about this, if they had no already been speaking? ]
I see.
[ The tone is tense, unhappy. He frowns, turning this over. ]
If someone has told you this in earnest, they a fool who does not understand you. An an individual can have an enormous impact, magic or not, and you are an exceptional individual who has not hesitated to better themselves.
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An exceptional individual.
Well, damn. She is definitely blushing now.] I - oh. Um. Thank you. [She clears her throat (was it dry?) and shifts in her seat a little.] That's - I mean, thank you.
Just to clarify, he didn't say I'd be useless. We were just talking of...well. The villagers took my wand and bag for that whole bath thing. I panicked - I promised them to integrate, just to get it back. Thought I had to pretend they were heirlooms to keep them, because...truth is, I can't do a lot of magic without the wand. [Oh the other hand, she can do a lot with it.]
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Good.
Removes this person from the 'at war' category and just places them in 'hated', instead. He reaches for the tea, moves to pour them two cups. ]
There is some power in the wand? Or you simply require a focus?
[ No judgment either way, just a clarification question. ]
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[And here, she pauses, and reaches up her sleeve to pull out hers, from the holster she's fashioned herself to look like something of a bracelette. Sets it on the table, dark walnut and dragon heartstring core.]
It's not mine, this one. I lost it, in the - [Her mouth gets dry, the memory of the blade digging into her arm, the crucio spells wrecking havoc on her body. Her hands tremble a little, and she picks up the teacup. Apparently, this is something he'll have in common with Anduin: Hermione just telling them both things of her world, because they're safe and not from there and they can't really use it against her.]
I was tortured with this wand. It ended up with me because...well. I had lost mine, so I've been fighting with it and casting with it but I don't feel it as mine, despite trying. [A small sigh, and a sad little smile his way now.] Wish I had a way to replace it, but this place is all wrong. It has wands, but they're all wrong. More than this one.
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What is the requirement? Perhaps I can make something.
[ Items that channel magic are hardly difficult. If he can make daggers that also cause someone to sprout wings and fall slowly to the ground, something to simply help her cast spells she knows seems barely a challenge. ]
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She catches her breath quickly, and just gives him a look. Watches him studying the wand, like someone who is used to creating things. Now she sees it - he's not joking about this, is he?
She sucks in a breath, trying to think of what are the requirements for a good wand, and comes up blank. What comes out instead is:]
If you make me a wand, I might have to actually marry you.
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Wrathion looks up in surprise, frowns, then sets down the wand and stares at her. ]
I would not require a ceremony.
[ She would not have to? Just to be... clear? ]
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Not sure there's anyone ordained for it, anyway. [A little pause.] That was a joke - I'm sorry if it was in poor taste, I just - you caught me completely by surprise.
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