Amelia Eva Steinbeck 📚 Teacher 📚 Witch 📚 Available for pop culture consultation regarding the arts, literature, and other foreign mediums of expression.
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NAME: Amelia Eva Steinbeck BIRTHDAY: February 28th FAV CAKE FLAVOR: Mixed berries, whipped cream, and lemon curd
WHAT THEY WANT MOST FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY: For her AP Lit. class to pass their test w/ a 3 or higher.
I like to think that's a fair trade-off. We may both be the type to haunt libraries, but loud certainly has its place.
[He'll take that compliment, thank you very much.]
Once again, I must say we make an excellent team. If there's anything else about, no doubt they've been alerted to our presence, but I'm of the same mind— there's certainly something worth seeing. We've a whole floor ahead of us.
[Adventure, Amelia! Can't you feel it in the air? He's clearly getting quite excited about this, that confidence of his in full display now.]
[Adventure (weak)! Normally, this is where Amelia would roll her eyes and return his enthusiasm with a negative quip, but... Well, it's long since been established that she doesn't feel like doing that to Gale. She can be meanspirited but she's not mean at least when it comes to certain people.
Down the corridor, they go then. There are remnants of scattered and broken weaponry and ruined armor that lie slouched against the stone walls. Amelia stops again and holds up her hand to signal the same to Gale.]
Shhh. Hear that?
[It's not rattling bones this time. They're heavy, rumbling footsteps.]
[He stops abruptly as she puts her hand up, pausing just half a step behind her and lightly bringing his hand to rest on her shoulder as he stops short, his gaze narrowed as he peers into the dim light further down the corridor. Those heavy footsteps are deep, deliberate, and send tremors through the floor that cause some of the scattered bones to rattle against the stone beneath them, cause the torches to quiver.]
I certainly do.
[All mirth has left voice now; whatever is coming is much larger than a skeleton, and he has a feeling it's not to be taken lightly.]
I suppose it wouldn't be much of an adventure if things were too easy. We must take care.
[You know what's a good magic trick? Some temporary invisibility. Amelia casts another set of runes, one for her and one for Gale. It encircles their bodies glowing bright green before dimming and turning down its opacity.]
That should obscure us temporarily. We need to see what it is and then make a plan on how to get past it.
[Ah, and she just now noticed his hand on her shoulder.]
[Invisibility is a trick he's certainly familiar with, though the sensation he gets from Amelia's brand of magic is slightly different from the one he's used to feeling through his own spells— the result, however, is the same, and he offers her a nod of thanks before she draws attention to his hand on her shoulder.
Oh. He hadn't quite meant to do that.]
... apologies.
[He clears his throat, letting his hand drop away and averting his gaze slightly, his face coloring. Too bad he doesn't seem to be invisible to her in this moment.]
Perhaps if we're lucky and continue to keep our voices down, it will simply be on its way.
[The rumbling, however, seems to be growing closer, and he at last catches a glimpse of some movement at the far end of the corridor, a large, lumbering figure starting to emerge from around the corner.
[Now there's no time to dwell on shoulder touching. Amelia turns to also catch a glimpse of the ogre. That's a problem. That's a really big problem. She whispers to Gale without peeling her eyes away.]
What are our chances if we face it head-on? I don't think it's impossible but we don't have a lot of space...
[He had already taken care to keep his voice low, but now he, too, speaks at a whisper, going quite still, immensely grateful that they are currently hidden from view.]
While I would feel more comfortable having a friend with a sword or axe going in first, our chances aren't terrible. There's only one— and while the ogres I've encountered have often been resistant to magic, it still has some effect, particularly if one uses spells that can turn their size and lack of dexterity against them.
[All in all, it's a problem he believes them well-equipped to handle— but it would be nice if they didn't have to.]
The lack of space could be troublesome, but the enclosed nature of the corridor means there are some spells that might be especially effective at keeping it at a distance.
[A well-placed Wall of Ice or even Fire would do wonders here.]
We can still turn back, if we'd rather not take the risk.
[He brings one of his hands to hover just above his solar plexus, beginning to trace another shape before him with two fingers. He's whisked Amelia elsewhere with a quick use of a teleport spell before, and it can certainly be done again if they're clever about it— and he believes the two of them incapable of being anything but.]
We can still slip past with a carefully-placed—
[Of course, it can hardly be that simple. Though they've kept still and quiet, the ogre stops in its tracks, ugly, overhanging brow furrowed as it lifts its head and sniffs the air with purpose, the oversized club it carries in one hand dragging against the ground and sending more scattered bones skittering across stone.
"I smell MEAT."
Sharply, it looks directly at them, as though Amelia had never even thought to shield them from sight— and when it begins to move, it is no longer lumbering forward, but racing, each footstep thundering and shaking the very corridor as it heads in their direction far more quickly than it had earlier.]
Looks like it's time for us to improvise, then!
[Another wave of his hand, and there are suddenly three more Gales surrounding them, all moving in unison as they each grab hold of their staves and prepare to charge forward to meet their foe.]
[Amelia takes a few steps back as Gale multiplies himself and he and the copies rush forward toward the ogre. While she could spare words telling Gale to be careful or not too reckless, time is of the essence now that they've gotten the unwanted attention of the ogre.
This next plan of attack has pros and cons, but it's for Gale's sake. With her outstretched hands, the witch takes a deep breath and starts Envisioning and creating a script that will affect the environment.
Soon the corridor's width stretches and the pavement beneath the ogre becomes uneven to make it stumble and disorient. More room to make sweeping blows, but it means more room for them to escape and she can make a quick one at the last second if need be. It's up to Gale now and she has his back.]
[While his mirror images have no physical weight to lend to their assault, they do serve the excellent purpose of slowing the ogre's advance, drawing its attention in different directions as they surround it. It won't last long, he knows; they won't smell like anything to a predator who's chosen to follow its nose, but it should be enough to buy both him and Amelia some time to quite literally work their magic.
Amelia's approach is unsurprisingly clever, and Gale glances back at her over his shoulder to flash a smile of approval as she reshapes the very corridor itself, the disruption enough to cause the ogre to drop its club and stumble forward, passing through one of his mirror images and causing it to disappear from view.]
Much appreciated!
[Time for him to follow up! His past experience with ogres tells him this is not the place to hold back; their resistance to magic means that a more potent spell will go further. He proceeds to wave both hands as if to shape the very space between them, a brilliant red glow beginning to pulse between his palms before he thrusts both hands forward and sends that wave of force outward, towards their foe, with his two remaining mirrors following suit.]
Dissolutum!
[The ogre lets out a snarl of pain as sheer force causes it to stumble back the way it had come from, and while it does appear to be injured, it seems fueled by anger more than anything. It rallies, grabbing its club once more and swinging broadly, causing another of Gale's images to vanish once its weapon passes through.]
[What's a tumultuous adventure without some polite battle banter sprinkled in? Amelia's keeping a wide berth from the ogre lest the impact of its strong legs knock her off balance or the other obvious dangers that come from flailing wildly as Gale sets about to defeat it. The spell he's cast seems effective despite the ogre's magic resistance. Worry flares up when two of his mirror images disappear as a result of their assault.]
That's good but keep the hits constant! We're giving it too many chances to move around!
[Though perhaps saying so is a mistake in and of itself— but Amelia's advice is good. He may be but one wizard, but with her assistance in keeping their foe off-balance, there are other spells that would suit to help keep the pressure on. He draws in a sharp breath, tracing another symbol as his remaining mirror image follows suit, then sending a series of searingly bright scorching rays at the ogre— resistance or otherwise, fire is still fire and ogres are still flesh and blood, and the monstrosity lets out a bellow of pain as the spell burns down to the bone, boring holes in its limbs and torso.
It lumbers forward, strength flagging, but takes another wide swing— this time bypassing the mirror image and coming far closer to the real Gale, its chances of missing him having been reduced with the loss of his other replicas. Gale reacts quickly, intent on using a spell to fall back and move out of the ogre's range, but even as he does so, he finds his left arm clipped by the ogre's club, hard enough that he cries out even as he blinks out of sight and reappears just beside Amelia.]
Augh! Amelia, stand back!
[Wincing, he raises a hand to send three glowing red arrows at their assailant, each one hitting its mark without fail— and only when the ogre falls to the ground perfectly still does he exhale and grab hold of his injured arm with the opposite hand, feeling one of his knees threatening to buckle beneath him.]
[She knew that would happen! But there's no point getting uppity about Gale getting injured just in the way she feared. Gritting her teeth, Amelia can only stay at a safe distance as he unleashes his final magic volley against the ogre. When it's finally defeated, Amelia runs over to the wizard.]
That was your arm. You're lucky I stretched out the corridor, you could have been squashed against the wall— Hold on.
[Without asking, Amelia pulls Gale's uninjured arm around her shoulder and waves her other hand. The corridor reverts to its previous state although the side-effect is that the dead ogre's body gets squished and blocks their way for the time being. Also, it smells like tinny blood, other unidentifiable stinks, and... Ugh.]
Can you walk? Are you lightheaded? Did it get you anywhere else??
[He supposes she deserves that 'I told you so' of hers, though he's far more annoyed with himself for reacting a split-second too late than he is with anything else about the situation. He clenches his teeth as pain surges through his and along his ribcage, drawing in a sharp breath as she puts his arm around her shoulders and returns the hallway to its previous state.]
Yes, yes, I can walk, I've certainly had worse— ow!
[He cuts himself off as another sharp pain radiates through the afflicted limb.]
In my defense, there's often been a sturdy friend with an axe between myself and any ogres, at least since I've been relieved of the greatest of my powers. I don't believe it struck me anywhere else, but I may need a few moments.
The fracture needs to be fixed up. Healing isn't part of my repertoire, but I've another solution.
[As she holds onto Gale, Amelia looks back and forth before directing them to a left turn. They're able to move to an area that has the remains of a campfire and some bits of straw.]
First, you'll need to lay down and we can assess the damage. Let's see...
[Amelia closes her eyes and Envisions... A well lit fire. Simple but soft cushioning. A tarp, pillows...
Her finger automatically moves to write the runes that can fill in the rest of the blanks and complete the final result. Within seconds, the fire roars to life, and a makeshift campsite has been created. Amelia squats down to lower Gale onto the cot.]
Can you roll yourself onto your back? I'll try to make this quick but thorough.
[Her tone of voice is such that he knows better than to argue, or to insist that he can manage this on his own. He allows himself to be guided to the remains of a sad little campfire, and even in his current state, watching the campsite bloom into being as a result of her efforts brings a faint smile to his face, regardless of the pain.]
That really is some remarkably useful conjuring— damn!
[He cuts himself off again as another jolt of pain takes him by surprise, and he hisses through his teeth as he lets her aid him in settling onto the cot, though despite his injury, he tries not to let too much of his weight bear on her.]
I believe I can, now that you've helped me this far. Thank you.
[Lest she think him ungrateful for her aid. Far from it. Exhaling to steel himself, he takes hold of one edge of the cot with his uninjured hand and eases back until he's horizontal, making a low grumbling sound as he looks miserably towards the ceiling.]
Not my finest moment. Hardly my worst, either, but it's difficult to say which injury is worse, the arm or my dignity.
[Amelia lets out a deep breath as Gale gets onto the cot and lies down. She'll create a barrier around their campsite so nothing gets in without a nasty surprise. The lines of her green magic hang from wall to wall and when she's satisfied with it, she turns her attention back to the injured wizard.]
Let's see... [She sits on the chair next to the cot and rolls up her sleeves.]
[Right. Of course. His shirt. She can't properly examine his injury unless he does so, but the part of him that had become comfortable enough with campsite living and its general lack of privacy is at war with the part of him that has always had to ask Tara to leave the room before he's able to undress.
The fact that he's become intensely fond of Amelia, of course, complicates things.
He clears his throat softly, collecting himself.]
Of course, that would— be necessary, wouldn't it. [However, even beginning to lift his injured arm causes him to wince and sharply draw a hiss of air through his teeth again.] ... on second thought, I may need some assistance with that.
[Amelia, business-minded as ever, has no such improper thoughts when her friend is badly injured. Time is of the essence and he shouldn't be suffering any longer than necessary.]
Alright. Let me just...
[With skilled deftness, it doesn't take her long to pull the tunic off, fold it, and set it aside.]
Now, when it comes to a fracture I'm going to have to—
Why is Mr. Gale Dekarios actually kind of toned? Yes, it's adventuring, probably, and the quest he was going on before checking into the hotel. Her eyes are lingering longer than expected and then—]
[Amelia mutters and it almost sounds irate. Maybe. Why? BECAUSE.]
What do you need all of that for?
[Is she referring to the muscle definition? The hair on his chest?? YOU DECIDE. Regardless, she regains focus and starts to trace her magic runes while hovering over his arm.]
[There's certainly some pain to be had as she assists him in disrobing, but he still manages to find room for embarrassment, his face now flushed a deep red as she cuts herself off to stare at him for a moment. Flustered, he averts his gaze and responds rather irately in his own right, letting out a huff of breath.]
It's natural!
[He's assuming she means the chest hair.]
You can't tell me you've never seen a man with hair on his chest before!
[... well. Unless she's had very specific tastes in the past.]
[Briar didn't have any and neither did Michael, funnily enough. But it's just one of those things you'd see peeking through, or maybe in movies, and think nothing of it, at least in Amelia's experience.]
Now hush. I haven't used this spell in a while and I need to write each line perfectly for this to work.
[He exhales through his nose, agitated, and presses his lips into a thin line.
She'd told him to hush?]
Not something I'd care to take a risk with, admittedly.
[So he will keep himself quiet while she works, his face still burning scarlet, though he does eventually turn his gaze back towards her to watch— her use of magic remains beautiful and fascinating, after all, and a bit of embarrassment certainly doesn't change who he is.]
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[He'll take that compliment, thank you very much.]
Once again, I must say we make an excellent team. If there's anything else about, no doubt they've been alerted to our presence, but I'm of the same mind— there's certainly something worth seeing. We've a whole floor ahead of us.
[Adventure, Amelia! Can't you feel it in the air? He's clearly getting quite excited about this, that confidence of his in full display now.]
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Down the corridor, they go then. There are remnants of scattered and broken weaponry and ruined armor that lie slouched against the stone walls. Amelia stops again and holds up her hand to signal the same to Gale.]
Shhh. Hear that?
[It's not rattling bones this time. They're heavy, rumbling footsteps.]
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I certainly do.
[All mirth has left voice now; whatever is coming is much larger than a skeleton, and he has a feeling it's not to be taken lightly.]
I suppose it wouldn't be much of an adventure if things were too easy. We must take care.
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[You know what's a good magic trick? Some temporary invisibility. Amelia casts another set of runes, one for her and one for Gale. It encircles their bodies glowing bright green before dimming and turning down its opacity.]
That should obscure us temporarily. We need to see what it is and then make a plan on how to get past it.
[Ah, and she just now noticed his hand on her shoulder.]
... Well, we don't have to stick this closely.
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Oh. He hadn't quite meant to do that.]
... apologies.
[He clears his throat, letting his hand drop away and averting his gaze slightly, his face coloring. Too bad he doesn't seem to be invisible to her in this moment.]
Perhaps if we're lucky and continue to keep our voices down, it will simply be on its way.
[The rumbling, however, seems to be growing closer, and he at last catches a glimpse of some movement at the far end of the corridor, a large, lumbering figure starting to emerge from around the corner.
Of course it would be an ogre.]
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What are our chances if we face it head-on? I don't think it's impossible but we don't have a lot of space...
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While I would feel more comfortable having a friend with a sword or axe going in first, our chances aren't terrible. There's only one— and while the ogres I've encountered have often been resistant to magic, it still has some effect, particularly if one uses spells that can turn their size and lack of dexterity against them.
[All in all, it's a problem he believes them well-equipped to handle— but it would be nice if they didn't have to.]
The lack of space could be troublesome, but the enclosed nature of the corridor means there are some spells that might be especially effective at keeping it at a distance.
[A well-placed Wall of Ice or even Fire would do wonders here.]
We can still turn back, if we'd rather not take the risk.
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[Well, this literally isn't a walk in the park and she shouldn't have expected it to be after all the skeletons.]
I think I'd like to avoid—oh there it goes, blocking our way. Of course!
[But the footsteps grow louder and louder and the ogre has changed its direction and is walking directly towards them.]
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We can still slip past with a carefully-placed—
[Of course, it can hardly be that simple. Though they've kept still and quiet, the ogre stops in its tracks, ugly, overhanging brow furrowed as it lifts its head and sniffs the air with purpose, the oversized club it carries in one hand dragging against the ground and sending more scattered bones skittering across stone.
"I smell MEAT."
Sharply, it looks directly at them, as though Amelia had never even thought to shield them from sight— and when it begins to move, it is no longer lumbering forward, but racing, each footstep thundering and shaking the very corridor as it heads in their direction far more quickly than it had earlier.]
Looks like it's time for us to improvise, then!
[Another wave of his hand, and there are suddenly three more Gales surrounding them, all moving in unison as they each grab hold of their staves and prepare to charge forward to meet their foe.]
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This next plan of attack has pros and cons, but it's for Gale's sake. With her outstretched hands, the witch takes a deep breath and starts Envisioning and creating a script that will affect the environment.
Soon the corridor's width stretches and the pavement beneath the ogre becomes uneven to make it stumble and disorient. More room to make sweeping blows, but it means more room for them to escape and she can make a quick one at the last second if need be. It's up to Gale now and she has his back.]
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Amelia's approach is unsurprisingly clever, and Gale glances back at her over his shoulder to flash a smile of approval as she reshapes the very corridor itself, the disruption enough to cause the ogre to drop its club and stumble forward, passing through one of his mirror images and causing it to disappear from view.]
Much appreciated!
[Time for him to follow up! His past experience with ogres tells him this is not the place to hold back; their resistance to magic means that a more potent spell will go further. He proceeds to wave both hands as if to shape the very space between them, a brilliant red glow beginning to pulse between his palms before he thrusts both hands forward and sends that wave of force outward, towards their foe, with his two remaining mirrors following suit.]
Dissolutum!
[The ogre lets out a snarl of pain as sheer force causes it to stumble back the way it had come from, and while it does appear to be injured, it seems fueled by anger more than anything. It rallies, grabbing its club once more and swinging broadly, causing another of Gale's images to vanish once its weapon passes through.]
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[What's a tumultuous adventure without some polite battle banter sprinkled in? Amelia's keeping a wide berth from the ogre lest the impact of its strong legs knock her off balance or the other obvious dangers that come from flailing wildly as Gale sets about to defeat it. The spell he's cast seems effective despite the ogre's magic resistance. Worry flares up when two of his mirror images disappear as a result of their assault.]
That's good but keep the hits constant! We're giving it too many chances to move around!
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[Though perhaps saying so is a mistake in and of itself— but Amelia's advice is good. He may be but one wizard, but with her assistance in keeping their foe off-balance, there are other spells that would suit to help keep the pressure on. He draws in a sharp breath, tracing another symbol as his remaining mirror image follows suit, then sending a series of searingly bright scorching rays at the ogre— resistance or otherwise, fire is still fire and ogres are still flesh and blood, and the monstrosity lets out a bellow of pain as the spell burns down to the bone, boring holes in its limbs and torso.
It lumbers forward, strength flagging, but takes another wide swing— this time bypassing the mirror image and coming far closer to the real Gale, its chances of missing him having been reduced with the loss of his other replicas. Gale reacts quickly, intent on using a spell to fall back and move out of the ogre's range, but even as he does so, he finds his left arm clipped by the ogre's club, hard enough that he cries out even as he blinks out of sight and reappears just beside Amelia.]
Augh! Amelia, stand back!
[Wincing, he raises a hand to send three glowing red arrows at their assailant, each one hitting its mark without fail— and only when the ogre falls to the ground perfectly still does he exhale and grab hold of his injured arm with the opposite hand, feeling one of his knees threatening to buckle beneath him.]
Lady of Mysteries, that smarts.
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[She knew that would happen! But there's no point getting uppity about Gale getting injured just in the way she feared. Gritting her teeth, Amelia can only stay at a safe distance as he unleashes his final magic volley against the ogre. When it's finally defeated, Amelia runs over to the wizard.]
That was your arm. You're lucky I stretched out the corridor, you could have been squashed against the wall— Hold on.
[Without asking, Amelia pulls Gale's uninjured arm around her shoulder and waves her other hand. The corridor reverts to its previous state although the side-effect is that the dead ogre's body gets squished and blocks their way for the time being. Also, it smells like tinny blood, other unidentifiable stinks, and... Ugh.]
Can you walk? Are you lightheaded? Did it get you anywhere else??
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Yes, yes, I can walk, I've certainly had worse— ow!
[He cuts himself off as another sharp pain radiates through the afflicted limb.]
In my defense, there's often been a sturdy friend with an axe between myself and any ogres, at least since I've been relieved of the greatest of my powers. I don't believe it struck me anywhere else, but I may need a few moments.
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[As she holds onto Gale, Amelia looks back and forth before directing them to a left turn. They're able to move to an area that has the remains of a campfire and some bits of straw.]
First, you'll need to lay down and we can assess the damage. Let's see...
[Amelia closes her eyes and Envisions... A well lit fire. Simple but soft cushioning. A tarp, pillows...
Her finger automatically moves to write the runes that can fill in the rest of the blanks and complete the final result. Within seconds, the fire roars to life, and a makeshift campsite has been created. Amelia squats down to lower Gale onto the cot.]
Can you roll yourself onto your back? I'll try to make this quick but thorough.
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That really is some remarkably useful conjuring— damn!
[He cuts himself off again as another jolt of pain takes him by surprise, and he hisses through his teeth as he lets her aid him in settling onto the cot, though despite his injury, he tries not to let too much of his weight bear on her.]
I believe I can, now that you've helped me this far. Thank you.
[Lest she think him ungrateful for her aid. Far from it. Exhaling to steel himself, he takes hold of one edge of the cot with his uninjured hand and eases back until he's horizontal, making a low grumbling sound as he looks miserably towards the ceiling.]
Not my finest moment. Hardly my worst, either, but it's difficult to say which injury is worse, the arm or my dignity.
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[Amelia lets out a deep breath as Gale gets onto the cot and lies down. She'll create a barrier around their campsite so nothing gets in without a nasty surprise. The lines of her green magic hang from wall to wall and when she's satisfied with it, she turns her attention back to the injured wizard.]
Let's see... [She sits on the chair next to the cot and rolls up her sleeves.]
First things first.
Take off your shirt.
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[Right. Of course. His shirt. She can't properly examine his injury unless he does so, but the part of him that had become comfortable enough with campsite living and its general lack of privacy is at war with the part of him that has always had to ask Tara to leave the room before he's able to undress.
The fact that he's become intensely fond of Amelia, of course, complicates things.
He clears his throat softly, collecting himself.]
Of course, that would— be necessary, wouldn't it. [However, even beginning to lift his injured arm causes him to wince and sharply draw a hiss of air through his teeth again.] ... on second thought, I may need some assistance with that.
1/3
Alright. Let me just...
[With skilled deftness, it doesn't take her long to pull the tunic off, fold it, and set it aside.]
Now, when it comes to a fracture I'm going to have to—
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. . .
. . .
Why is Mr. Gale Dekarios actually kind of toned? Yes, it's adventuring, probably, and the quest he was going on before checking into the hotel. Her eyes are lingering longer than expected and then—]
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What do you need all of that for?
[Is she referring to the muscle definition? The hair on his chest?? YOU DECIDE. Regardless, she regains focus and starts to trace her magic runes while hovering over his arm.]
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It's natural!
[He's assuming she means the chest hair.]
You can't tell me you've never seen a man with hair on his chest before!
[... well. Unless she's had very specific tastes in the past.]
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[Briar didn't have any and neither did Michael, funnily enough. But it's just one of those things you'd see peeking through, or maybe in movies, and think nothing of it, at least in Amelia's experience.]
Now hush. I haven't used this spell in a while and I need to write each line perfectly for this to work.
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She'd told him to hush?]
Not something I'd care to take a risk with, admittedly.
[So he will keep himself quiet while she works, his face still burning scarlet, though he does eventually turn his gaze back towards her to watch— her use of magic remains beautiful and fascinating, after all, and a bit of embarrassment certainly doesn't change who he is.]
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