I really don't have time to type something up after every update, but since Rook is on our case...
You finish cracking your knuckles, and bounce lightly on your feet. Science, or SCIENCE! A question for the ages...
You grin to yourself.
So many ideas, so little time.
Well, first things first. Though you're fairly bad about that sometimes, you admit to yourself. Eh. You cleanse your Gem, pulling the filmy layer of darkness out and leaving it gleaming again. You trail the Grief around your left pinky, forging a solid ring snug against your skin.
The soul gem doesn't just clear out when its cleansed. It gleams. Contrast with:
"Mmm, there's more room out here," you say. Aurora and Hildegarde don't look particularly different, two clear, glassy orbs surrounded by the delicate, impossibly detailed filigree of a Grief Seed.
They're merely clear. Empty.
You wander into the slowly rusting warehouse, hunting for implements which you can use to measure things. The building feels... melancholic, somehow, the faint tang of rust in the chill air seeming to spell out the regrets of days long past. You wonder if there might have been a Witch here, once?
Might there have been a Witch here once? Or might this be a location that's familiar to us, like where H.N.Elly spawned?
Ooooooor, more likely, this is a hint on the nature of grief. Remember how post-Madokami humanity's ambient grief accumulates, eventually forming miasma and demons? The Witch system is a way of collecting this ambient grief into barriers and then into grief seeds. But in areas where ambient grief builds, it should give a grief-bender a feeling. That doesn't preclude this being the location of a past witch (makes sense, even). But it hints that ambient grief exists, along with every other hint we've gotten about the same subject.
You pull a sphere of Grief from the enormous mass lurking on the edge of the parking to you, and drop it on the asphalt in front of you with a thunk. Grief is what Barriers are made of, so you should be able to change its properties... And you already have, haven't you? Transparency and acoustic properties. You note down that thought on some paper.
You focus, reaching for instincts whispering on the edge of your consciousness. Ephemeral strands of your will twist at the blob of Grief, a crystal clear image of the result bobbing up in your mind's eye and-
The control is instinctual, but it relies on our will and on our mental image. If we can't envision or conceptualize the form properly, does that mean we can't create/mold it?
Fwoosh.
A gout of clear, orange flame explodes in a conflagration in front of you, pounding into your senses as Witch. You flinch back from the incandescent heat, the skin of your face suddenly dry and tight.
The flame burns soundlessly, something more akin to a luminous gas fire than anything, albeit one hovering a handspan above the ground and without any apparent fuel source. It's definitely producing heat, certainly, and... You look around the parking lot, and spot a discarded plastic wrapper blown here by the wind. You snag it and toss it into the flame, where it crisps and burns with foul smelling smoke as expected.
You squint at the fire. Where's the energy coming from? The first thought that springs to mind is that it's somehow burning Grief into energy - that particular thought's been kicking around your mind for a while, anyway. But if it is, it's not doing it quickly enough for you to notice. You hurriedly write all that down, too.
You wave your hand, and send the flame zipping around the parking lot. The flame is distorted by the rush of air until you focus, on it, at which point it burns steadily as if there weren't air rushing past it. A twist of will turns it from a pseudo gas flame to a crisp wood fire, and then a smoky, oily conflagration belching out black smoke.
The smoke lights up on your senses just as strongly, and you guide it into a wispy, smoky circle - it's as much Witch-stuff as is the fire itself.
The energy released from the chemical reaction of the fire wouldn't convert something directly into energy at a rate that would be noticable. However, the presence of grief-smoke in the later part suggests that grief is in fact being converted, because the grief smoke cannot come from nowhere. That means the fire is in fact consuming grief, just not at a significant rate to our senses.
Going to skip the Mami conversation.
"Eh? Nothing to apologize for, Mami," you hastily reassure her. Irene's a solid black sphere embraced in the same silvery latticework. And hiding inside, past the dense screening layers of Grief... Irene.
"Oh," Mami says. "Umm... Will I see you at lunch?"
"Mami, I'm not offended," you say. "And of course you will. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"OK," Mami says, sounding marginally more reassured. "See you later."
"See you, Mami," you say.
You sigh out loud. Expected. You'd absolutely expected that. Just...
You shake your head, and hold up Aurora's Grief Seed, letting it balance on the tip of your finger. You tentatively poke a little blob of Grief at it. The Grief passes seamlessly into the Grief Seed as if the boundary weren't there. You nod - seems to be about what you'd expect. You reach for the primary mass of Grief, and start pouring it in, an endless torrent pouring down a bottomless drain. You watch that Grief intently as it flows in.
It changes as it passes that boundary. Changes into... well, you'd call it Witch stuff.
You blink, pausing the influx of Grief. It can't be that simple, can it?
You transfer your gaze to a basketball sized sphere of Grief, and instead of trying to compress it will it into a denser form. The difference between squashing a sponge and, well, turning it into an equivalent mass of lead. With an abrupt jolt, it suddenly shrinks into a tiny, pebble sized grain. And you know you can make it smaller.
It also feels exactly as Witchy as that fire you'd made earlier.
Which makes sense - you're doing the same thing. You changed the Grief into a denser form, as opposed to trying to compress it.
You look consideringly at the masses of Grief around you, absently picking up the process of refilling Aurora's Seed again. You pull a string out of Grief and pluck at it - it makes a dull thwacking noise. A twist of your will, and you pluck it again. This time, it twangs musically - but it doesn't feel like a Witch.
Will. Our will. That seems to the primary factor in controlling grief. Our intent. How much does conceptualization matter?
Hmm.
You seem to have some control over Grief as it is, but it only goes so far as Grief. But you can also... transmute it into different forms with different properties. Interesting.
You stop filling Aurora's Seed when it's half full. Holding it by its point, you tap it to Irene's Grief Seed.
Irene tears Grief from Aurora, a substantial portion vacuumed from one Grief Seed to the other in an instant, and you hastily jerk them apart. You bring your powers to bear, and confiscate the 'stolen' Grief from Irene, returning it to its unused state.
... huh.
That... was interesting, too.
You need to think about that a little more, though, so for now, you settle down on the asphalt floor, crossing your legs comfortably, and set the three Grief Seeds aside, letting them balance on their points. You pick up a small, fist sized rock instead.
Enchantment, then, while you ruminate about how to proceed with the Grief Seeds. You focus on your hand, on the magic coursing within, and start warping it as Mami had shown you the other day, pushing it into rock. It's... something like starting with a melon and deciding that you need to somehow infuse it with sugar all at once, except you need to do it without even breaking the melon open-
Crack!
Dammit.
The lump of asphalt shatters violently into three, the pieces zinging away with violent force. You sigh, and pick up one of the shattered chunks, and start again.
Half an hour later, you've reduced that first chunk into loose gravel, and started on a fresh piece of rock.
There's nothing for this except practice. Mami suggested she put hours upon hours into it when she first started. We should schedule half an hour to an hour every day.
"Sabrina?" Mami again, her voice querulous and worried.
"Hi, Mami!" you say, keeping your voice cheery. You set aside the rock for now.
"Hello, Sabrina!" That edge of worry softens, immediately reassured by just your voice.
I think that although part of this is clingyness, a fair bit is genuine worry. When Sabrina goes off on her own, she gets into trouble, doubly so if she intends to experiment.
(Very Witchy) Transmuted stuff, loose/gaseous Grief, solid Grief, Grief Seeds (not at all).
We've gone over this one a half dozen times. The only additional thing I can think of really, is putting it this way:
(Very Witchy) Transmuted stuff, loose/gaseous Grief, solid Grief,
Soul Gems (not at all).
Another common feature between Grief Seeds and Soul Gems?
