unburned and alive

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The warnings were heard; loud and clear. He didn’t like the notions of any substance being addictive, and there was some ominous clamoring in the back of his mind. He jotted down her notes and his own, contorting lines, details, into the restrictions, no more than three ever, and only one dose per day. He considered the contemplations, tilting his head, ensuring they’d somehow fit into his plans. There were other means and measures that could be applied too. His eyes widened briefly at her warning, because the notion was amusing, and permitted a small stifled round of laughter to reverberate through his chest. “Agreed.” He paused, glancing over the parchments, the papers, the details in the orchestration. “Would you like me to try and create some?” Was there anything else required or necessary? master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray gives a predatory grin at Deimos' laugh, though it does hold a trace of playfulness. "You laugh now, but I mean it. You might be far stronger than me but I will find a way to do it if I have to." How, she had no idea. But Ray was a stubborn one and would figure something out for sure.

Hearing that he felt ready to create the first batch, Ray ran a critical eye over both of their notes. Double checking calculations, ingredients, and portions. She wanted to ensure that nothing was amiss. When everything came back looking accurate, she gave the Sword a nod. "Alright. I think we're ready to go. Be careful and go slowly, ok? This requires finesses, especially if you're using magic." She did tilt her head however as she realized something. "Do you not need to gather ingredients first?"

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame He took her words at face value, with a generous grin unfolding over his features, a nod to follow suit. Thereafter though, he waited for her to go over everything, a restless sort of inkling parsing through his veins – wanting to solidify, to try, into these newfound angles and parameters. At her inquiry, realizing he’d never fully explained his capabilities with magic, the Sword opted for a demonstration. “I can create the poppy, and the water.” With honey and lemon zest to be additional things considered later, incapable of rendering those within his creation components. Within a moment, in between his palms came a gilded glow, first the vial, plainly designated with no need for grand relish or adornments, then the poppy, wrapped and contorted in earthen incantations, crimson and copied exactly how it’d been detailed in the pages of notes. The water thereafter, pouring within the open glass – and then he glanced towards Ray, waiting – uncertain about the contortions of the mixture, of plying or prying open the buds. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray raised a brow at the suddenly present water and poppies. That was convenient. Taking one of the stems, she brought out a small knife from her pocket. With a squint of focus, she made a small incision along the spherical portion. A thick ooze started to drip down, almost like molasses. Ray placed the bud aside and repeated the process as she spoke. "We're going to wait for the sap to build up along the surface. It generally forms little semi-solid beads. We'll then scrape them into the water to mix. and dilute."

Ray handed a few buds to Deimos, as well as a knife, giving a nod for him to join her. "We'll  need quite a bit. Only a little comes out of each, but it is potent." A teasing grin formed. "And for the love of the gods do not lick the damn thing."

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame He watched, concentration honed, as if this were a different, alternate kind of battlefield, as Ray made the incision upon the spherical proportions of the bud. He arched a brow as it began to drip, and then they didn’t gather those portions – not yet. At her instructions, his eyes went to the beaded adornments again, and picked up a poppy to try on his own. The knife suited just fine, sharp and precise, picking out the rounded edges and carving neatly, until the process was repeated on his end too, placing it down, glancing at it in perusal and study. His features turned into an inscrutable wrinkle to his nose at her statement – as if he’d go and incite that amount of curiosity into something he never wanted to be subjected to. “I will not,” came in a vivid snort, before returning to the others, and slicing them as neatly as before. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

His response has her chuckling as Ray eyes Deimos' work. Giving an approving nod as she judges that he is properly mimicking her actions. Once they have enough of the sap, Ray begins to portion it into labeled vials. Each label corresponding to one she then puts on the sheet of victims. Hopefully this way there would be no mix-ups and the poor souls would get the dosage best for them. The next step is simple, filling the vials to the top with water.

Satisfied, she gives a nod towards Deimos. "Alright, now grab a stick or something and get stirring. We want it to dissolve. Then they'll be ready for lemon and honey and then you can go implement whatever scheme you're working on." Ray teases as she sets about stirring.

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Proportions and labels, things he’ll sequester away for another day, another moment, another set of plans and machinations. They’re understandable components, pieces necessary to ensure some amount of safety in regards to what they’re orchestrating. Once it was finished, the beast tilted his head, nodding, before being gifted and granted a stick courtesy of Belial, who’d appeared at his side with fangs and wood elongated from his mouth. With a grateful pat and scratch, the Sword took it from the peryton, and set to stirring the concoction. He did manage another hint of a grin at her attempts to get rid of him so easily. “I did want to ask about poisons as well. Nothing too overwhelming or deadly – just enough to make something delirious. Incoherent.” Uncertain of what was around them. Caught in a haze, rather than driven into maelstroms of demise. “Is that feasible?” He could do the same, bartering and hinging on deals – making them in exchange for instruction. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray glanced at Deimos critically at his second request. "Poisons, huh? Alright let me think for a second." Most poisons that caused delirium were deadly. And the herbalist ended up pulling out a notebook of notes to try and recall which few weren't. Flipping through her book she came to a page that had her making a noise of triumph. She flipped it around where there was an already diagrammed trio of mushrooms.

"These are amanita mushrooms. Any of the three kinds will work. Just eating them will cause delirium, hallucinations, confusion, etc within 30 minutes to an hour or two. They can also cause some more severe symptoms such as loss of muscle coordination and profuse sweating. The good news is that they're generally non-lethal." A mischievous twinkle came to her eyes. "There are also cases where it makes people fall into a deep sleep where they don't recall anything about the experience. So you could try to use them instead of the poppy, but there's a chance that not all of the people will fall asleep."

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame If he was bothered by her stare, the beast certainly didn’t show it – adopting and adapting to his residual pose of reticence and solemnity, tilting his head vaguely, and then lowering his eyes entirely to fixate on stirring the concoctions. The less he said or uttered about his motives, the better; and then less individuals would be implicated in his schemes. Thereafter, he watched as she pulled out another notebook, deciding to flip through his parchments as well, for a blank canvas in which to assemble and take more directives. Mushrooms; with a time frame in which they settled. It could be an alternative to other plans, and he wrote all of this out for later perusal. “Do you use them in a similar way to the poppy?” For crafting purposes? What was required, and necessary, besides the flora itself? master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray shook her head. "No, these don't need any preparation. They work best if they're raw. Unfortunately that makes less discrete." She paused, a thought occurring. "But there is one way that might work. The toxins actually leave the mushrooms when they're boiled. So if you per say, gave that toxin filled water to a person to drink...." Ray trailed off with a shrug, a slight grin forming. "And perhaps you used that water to make normal tea to cover the taste?"

The concept should work in theory but in practice, actual dosage would be difficult to determine. "With this one, it's kind of impossible to give proper dosages so just use your discretion." Hopefully the Sword wouldn't go overboard.

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The mental image of someone force-feeding a toxic mushroom into someone’s face almost caused a bout of laughter, but he withheld it, circling and concaving it through his ribs. But then Ray seemed to consider other alternatives, and the notion was a moot point. He nodded, jotting the notions down – and boiling mushrooms would likely be plenty easy. Honey could be added to the concoction, just the same as the others. “Discretion,” he added; wrinkling his nose, pondering over applying it the same way they would’ve done the poppy. Or, in some other faction altogether – if other things weren’t coinciding, working, the way they wanted them to. A balancing act. The Sword’s eyes went to her images, and held out a flattened, calloused palm, until his incantations repeated the process from before, and the mushrooms appeared in his hand, unwound from creation and earthen wares. Similar and familiar patterns followed suit, though this time he conjured a pot to boil things within – filling with water, and beginning to churn it with enchantments once more. “Worth a try,” he offered, waiting for the liquid to bubble. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray gave a small grimace. "I know. I hate that I can't give you a more specific dosage for these. I will say this, the more water you use, the more dilute the toxin will be. The substance is pretty potent though so.." She looked at the size of the pot and the amount of mushrooms he'd conjured up. Running some calculations in her head she tried to come up with a more specific number. "If you need a more specific baseline, I can try to give a rough one. With that much water and mushrooms..." Ray referred to her notebook for a moment before continuing. "Alright. Eight to ten ounces of the water from that after the mushrooms boil should do the trick for a grown man. Apart from that I can't give a more specific answer."

Having said that, Ray watched as Deimos started to boil the water, slightly in awe over the creation magic. She was happy as an Attuned but magic sure was handy.

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame His attention deviated from one subject to another – eyeing Ray’s calculations while the water began to boil, churning and rolling over, and when it seemed adequate due to his elemental abilities, the Sword added the mushrooms to the pot. So while they brimmed and foamed, the beast added the details to his own notes, considering dosages, implementations. “All right,” he prospered with a nod – pondering if D’art had ever gone through such measures. Half the time the other man had seemed very haphazard with his mixtures – but then again, the aspiring results had been far easier and simpler to strive for. In the meantime, he prepared more vials, glowing and gilded from his palms, ensuing several in a neat little line. “Would you like some of this as well?” So he knew exactly how much to measure and portion out. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Ray

A panther in the night,
A fire burning bright

Ray eyed Deimos' work before giving a nod. His method seemed proficient, and with her supervision, Ray was confident in the effectiveness of the end product. And so she happily accepted his offer with a, "Yes please." Ray wasn't sure if she would need any delirium causing tea. Or at the very least, she didn't think she'd need any anytime soon. But it was a worthy enough substance to have on hand. Worst case scenario she could sell it via the Ark.

As Deimos finished portioning it out, Ray began to put her notebooks away. She gave the man an inquisitive glance, pausing her movements. "Is there anything else that you want to make?"

the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existance becomes an act of rebellion
-Albert Camus