We don't know. [ Celandine says plaintively. It's not hard to feel they're letting Strange down somehow, even when it isn't even their fault. It's not, and the mulish, stubborn set of Lambert's jaw looks like he's ramping up to yell, but Celandine is there by then, pressing against his ankle in that stupid little cape Strange made for her, and that stormy expression softens a little.
He doesn't have to actually spend all his time yelling at the people he likes. ]
I'm not like you. [ Is what he has to offer, finally, looking up at him. ] It's like ... it's like you and exercise. I have to work for it. [ He scowls, reflexively. ]
And we only care about working on magic if it will keep us and the people we care about alive. [ Celandine says, despite being a testament to not being a spell not at all that related to survival. Well, unless mental wellness counts. ] You live for magic. We just use it. You're right -- this place bleeds magic. And there's so little we were taught against that.
no subject
He doesn't have to actually spend all his time yelling at the people he likes. ]
I'm not like you. [ Is what he has to offer, finally, looking up at him. ] It's like ... it's like you and exercise. I have to work for it. [ He scowls, reflexively. ]
And we only care about working on magic if it will keep us and the people we care about alive. [ Celandine says, despite being a testament to not being a spell not at all that related to survival. Well, unless mental wellness counts. ] You live for magic. We just use it. You're right -- this place bleeds magic. And there's so little we were taught against that.