Raistlin Majere ((unpopcorning, canon update))

[raistlin-black.livejournal.com]

((Bringing Raistlin back with a canon update to boot! And one of these days, his mun will learn how to format on the first damn try!))

A man in black robes staggered to his feet outside of the popcorn room, clearly disoriented. He snarled a word of magic, creating a thrumming wave of energy that surrounded him like a shield. Raistlin Majere, Master of the Tower of High Sorcery, had returned to Hogwarts. The mage looked down at his robes, jet black and normally of the softest fabric, trimmed in ornate silver runes now sodden with grease. He plucked at a sleeve with with an expression of disgust.

He was back. Raistlin tore his hood back and gave an inarticulate scream of rage. He had passed through Shoikan Grove unharmed and claimed the Tower of High Sorcery as his own, all of it’s secrets and magic were his. The spellbooks of Fistandantilius were his, he was learning the most powerful secrets of arcane magic. Yet the magic of this school had pulled him back against his will.

His spell components were ruined, but he could call on enough magic to burn the grease from his robes. Anyone passing by would see a cranky looking wizard standing in the hallway, smoking.

 

Comments

[raistlin-black.livejournal.com]

Raistlin whirled, his still smoldering robes flaring as he did so. The sharp retort died in his throat when he saw Rose. With an effort, he swallowed his anger. “No. The Hat not only brought me back, it saw fit to cover me in some oily substance. The smoke is from a spell that burned it away."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

"Hunh." Rose appraises him. "I suppose that's good. Or every time you threw a wobbly you'd ruin the wallpaper."

[raistlin-black.livejournal.com]

"I didn't realize the Hat went so far as to steal children, I do not recall seeing you from before."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

Have I been stolen, wonders Rose, and concludes that she has not. "I've not seen you before. You're cloaky. I drew someone like you."

[raistlin-black.livejournal.com]

"They are traditional robes for one of my order, not a cloak," he corrected absently. "Children tend to avoid me. You must be used to such," his lips twisted, "sights."

[rosecasson.livejournal.com]

"No, not really. Mummy wears an artist's smock but it's mostly bright colours because of all the paint she uses, Sarah and Saffy share clothes anyway and Caddy likes bright colours too. Indigo," she concedes, now talking about the single brother in a band of sisters, adopted sisters and friends, "Might have a cloak but I haven't asked him."

Rose does not avoid anybody.