"Uhmmm," Triss can't stop looking around, head almost lolling as she tries to take in all the threads. It takes real effort to focus on Hannibal, nested as he is in the middle of the crosshatching. Some of the heavier lines go right through him without stopping, like he's a hologram and they're the only thing that's real. She gets hung up on one spearing under his collarbone, stunned awe fading into bemusement, "Lines. Blue lines everywhere. They're glowing? And I'm--attached to all of 'em."
Which kinda makes the obvious question: what's on the other end? Before anybody in the room can get all teacher-y on her, Triss takes quick stock and comes up with an interesting inventory. Each shining pot and pan hanging above the kitchen island has a line. Every knife in the butcher block, too. The oven's a mass of thick and thin cables all wound together, splitting off for eyes and buttons and racks. The chrome drawer-pulls are tied to her, and the microwave too. Even the steaming kettle sits fat and heavy and waiting. Triss's face smooths out in sudden understanding. "It's all the metal stuff."
"Oh, good job," Ruth smiles into her teacup. Argus sets his down with a broad grin.
"That's--you're very quick, Triss."
"She bit the fucking kelpie," Danae says, not that Triss can see how that's got anything to do with her revelation about metal, not when she's suddenly remembering all the things in her parents' house that used to slide around on their own. Silverware, picture frames, candlesticks...but it makes Ruth laugh and curl a hand over her mouth.
"Did you now?"
"Well it was sorta tryin' to drown me," Triss frowns again, "And I didn't like it."
"You bite things you don't like?" Argus has that particular choked 'I know I shouldn't laugh but it's really hard' voice adults get sometimes, which makes Triss roll her eyes. The lines remain stable.
"My old therapist said I had an oral fixation problem," after she'd bit a couple other kids who, to be fair, were holding her down at the time, so what was she supposed to do? Not unlike the kelpie problem, come to think of it.
Ruth stops trying to hide her laughter and even Danae snickers at that, like it's some great joke. Although if they've got to eat their magic, and her magic works like that too, then...yeah, okay, she can see how that's funny. Naturally that's when Hannibal says something in a language Triss doesn't know, too round and fast for her to even properly hear it, and everything goes inside out.
Ruth goes completely, utterly still, cold and unreadable in a way that frightens Triss so badly she almost doesn't notice Danae leaping to her feet, wouldn't've if she didn't hiss "What the fuck did you just say?" and knock her stool over as she lunges forward.
Three things happen almost instantaneously: Argus throws an arm out towards her with a sharp "Danae, stop, that's not a se--", Triss howls "Don't!" and rises up in her chair, palms slamming the tabletop, and every glowing blue line contracts sharply inward.
The oven door bangs open, metal rattles and shrieks and Triss reels backward with her arms over her head, blind and choking on her own panic again it's happening again I did it again but there's a yank, like a big fish running away with a lure and all the tension on those threads gets snatched away from her.
She blinks the blue away to a strange tableau. The air around the kitchen table is full of hovering things, knives and the egg timer and magnets and pans and egg beaters. Both the fridge and oven door have banged open and hang ajar, some of their contents spilling into the air, too. Triss gawks, while Argus runs a hand down his face. Danae's only taken a single step forward but her posture's changed, from threat to straining effort, her jaw set with it.
"Kid, I swear to god," she snarls. "Let go before you really do hurt somebody."
Those aren't very clear instructions, but somehow Triss finds she doesn't need anything more. Stunned and shaking, she holds her breath, cuts off the air to the coal in her belly and, like a smothered candle, it puffs out.
"Huh," Argus says, "Interesting technique."
Things don't just magically float back to their original places, but they do settle down on the nearest available surface. The floor, mostly, or the counter. Some crash dramatically while others, the breakable stuff, gets a gentler landing. Danae doesn't gesture like wizards in cartoons, she just stands there with a fixed look on her face and slightly flared nostrils, and when it's done she turns blazing eyes on Hannibal.
"Danae," Through all of it, Ruth has sat there in perfect stillness, watching him with a calm that's anything but placid. "Trust me to handle it if needbe."
Triss is too shaken to read the look Danae shoots her then, or maybe she wouldn't know enough to make sense of it anyway, but it does make her look younger and less mean. A little scared, maybe. "I...yes, okay."
Somehow the way Argus' hands thud to the table is exasperated. "Everyone just stop, please. It's not a difficult term to find if you're reading the right books." When he addresses Hannibal, he holds his hands out, palm up, but his head's gone to the side again. What is up with that? "And I can guess which ones those were, so...you can understand why anyone who fits that description would be upset to hear it. Especially from someone they don't know."
no subject
Which kinda makes the obvious question: what's on the other end? Before anybody in the room can get all teacher-y on her, Triss takes quick stock and comes up with an interesting inventory. Each shining pot and pan hanging above the kitchen island has a line. Every knife in the butcher block, too. The oven's a mass of thick and thin cables all wound together, splitting off for eyes and buttons and racks. The chrome drawer-pulls are tied to her, and the microwave too. Even the steaming kettle sits fat and heavy and waiting. Triss's face smooths out in sudden understanding. "It's all the metal stuff."
"Oh, good job," Ruth smiles into her teacup. Argus sets his down with a broad grin.
"That's--you're very quick, Triss."
"She bit the fucking kelpie," Danae says, not that Triss can see how that's got anything to do with her revelation about metal, not when she's suddenly remembering all the things in her parents' house that used to slide around on their own. Silverware, picture frames, candlesticks...but it makes Ruth laugh and curl a hand over her mouth.
"Did you now?"
"Well it was sorta tryin' to drown me," Triss frowns again, "And I didn't like it."
"You bite things you don't like?" Argus has that particular choked 'I know I shouldn't laugh but it's really hard' voice adults get sometimes, which makes Triss roll her eyes. The lines remain stable.
"My old therapist said I had an oral fixation problem," after she'd bit a couple other kids who, to be fair, were holding her down at the time, so what was she supposed to do? Not unlike the kelpie problem, come to think of it.
Ruth stops trying to hide her laughter and even Danae snickers at that, like it's some great joke. Although if they've got to eat their magic, and her magic works like that too, then...yeah, okay, she can see how that's funny. Naturally that's when Hannibal says something in a language Triss doesn't know, too round and fast for her to even properly hear it, and everything goes inside out.
Ruth goes completely, utterly still, cold and unreadable in a way that frightens Triss so badly she almost doesn't notice Danae leaping to her feet, wouldn't've if she didn't hiss "What the fuck did you just say?" and knock her stool over as she lunges forward.
Three things happen almost instantaneously: Argus throws an arm out towards her with a sharp "Danae, stop, that's not a se--", Triss howls "Don't!" and rises up in her chair, palms slamming the tabletop, and every glowing blue line contracts sharply inward.
The oven door bangs open, metal rattles and shrieks and Triss reels backward with her arms over her head, blind and choking on her own panic again it's happening again I did it again but there's a yank, like a big fish running away with a lure and all the tension on those threads gets snatched away from her.
She blinks the blue away to a strange tableau. The air around the kitchen table is full of hovering things, knives and the egg timer and magnets and pans and egg beaters. Both the fridge and oven door have banged open and hang ajar, some of their contents spilling into the air, too. Triss gawks, while Argus runs a hand down his face. Danae's only taken a single step forward but her posture's changed, from threat to straining effort, her jaw set with it.
"Kid, I swear to god," she snarls. "Let go before you really do hurt somebody."
Those aren't very clear instructions, but somehow Triss finds she doesn't need anything more. Stunned and shaking, she holds her breath, cuts off the air to the coal in her belly and, like a smothered candle, it puffs out.
"Huh," Argus says, "Interesting technique."
Things don't just magically float back to their original places, but they do settle down on the nearest available surface. The floor, mostly, or the counter. Some crash dramatically while others, the breakable stuff, gets a gentler landing. Danae doesn't gesture like wizards in cartoons, she just stands there with a fixed look on her face and slightly flared nostrils, and when it's done she turns blazing eyes on Hannibal.
"Danae," Through all of it, Ruth has sat there in perfect stillness, watching him with a calm that's anything but placid. "Trust me to handle it if needbe."
Triss is too shaken to read the look Danae shoots her then, or maybe she wouldn't know enough to make sense of it anyway, but it does make her look younger and less mean. A little scared, maybe. "I...yes, okay."
Somehow the way Argus' hands thud to the table is exasperated. "Everyone just stop, please. It's not a difficult term to find if you're reading the right books." When he addresses Hannibal, he holds his hands out, palm up, but his head's gone to the side again. What is up with that? "And I can guess which ones those were, so...you can understand why anyone who fits that description would be upset to hear it. Especially from someone they don't know."