[Perhaps the reforming being overlong was due to inexperience. Or perhaps it's simply because he sees more of that little strand of blooms than others do. Where most see an object and the aether belonging to it, he sees something else quite different indeed. Perhaps the reforming and reforming before deciding was him exploring potential- of different things affecting the different possibilities of what such a thing could become- be it a storm some weeks ago, a lack of rain, too much rain, or anything inbetween before he settles, simply, on what is.
Either way, he's saying nothing on it. Instead, he's looking dumbfounded.]
Y-you are quite certain?!
[Fire?! Were he to score some fluke and do it right, then- Ah, but the other boy has already refuted anything he would have said. So, with a small exhale, and a few steps away...]
...As you say. And... Should this cause you discomfort, I can only apologize.
[This is markedly different from creation magick. Instead, this time, his aether seems to not become so apparent. It does not flow, and it does not settle. Instead, it seems agitated- spluttering along and barely changing.
...He cannot believe he is to do this. Silently, he raises his hand, some fire-aspected (for his method is correct) aether forming at the center of his palm. He exhales, flicking his wrist to disperse it and-
-and.
-and?
Hades might feel something akin to teleporting into an (admittedly, hot!) climate. There's a rush of warm air that hits him. Perhaps he may feel the fabric of his cowl, his hood, curling a little at the sudden rush of heat.
Yet that is all. He does not burn. There's scarcely an ember in the folds of his robe.
Hythlodaeus, expression (and screwed shut eyes) concealed by his mask, takes a few immediate steps forward.]
Thank goodness-
[It didn't work. He's grateful! But he's also somewhat ashamed. Mostly grateful.]
since his eyebrows are protected by that mask, Fine!
Either way, he's saying nothing on it. Instead, he's looking dumbfounded.]
Y-you are quite certain?!
[Fire?! Were he to score some fluke and do it right, then-
Ah, but the other boy has already refuted anything he would have said. So, with a small exhale, and a few steps away...]
...As you say.
And... Should this cause you discomfort, I can only apologize.
[This is markedly different from creation magick. Instead, this time, his aether seems to not become so apparent. It does not flow, and it does not settle. Instead, it seems agitated- spluttering along and barely changing.
...He cannot believe he is to do this.
Silently, he raises his hand, some fire-aspected (for his method is correct) aether forming at the center of his palm. He exhales, flicking his wrist to disperse it and-
-and.
-and?
Hades might feel something akin to teleporting into an (admittedly, hot!) climate. There's a rush of warm air that hits him. Perhaps he may feel the fabric of his cowl, his hood, curling a little at the sudden rush of heat.
Yet that is all. He does not burn. There's scarcely an ember in the folds of his robe.
Hythlodaeus, expression (and screwed shut eyes) concealed by his mask, takes a few immediate steps forward.]
Thank goodness-
[It didn't work. He's grateful! But he's also somewhat ashamed. Mostly grateful.]