2019.02.06 - Yer a Witch, Stiles!

*Stiles finally gets some light cast on his latent magic abilities, courtesy of Cordelia Goode.*

January 4th, Year Unknown; Morning

Rowanwood

Stiles is back at it. Despite his altercation with some of the others and Ethan's insistence that he should relax more, the only time Stiles doesn't feel like pacing, at least not constantly, is when he's doing research. So, once again, he's sitting at the table with a massive tome in his lap. His feet are tucked up under the chair, as if to stop them from tapping, but if it's not one tapping it's the other. He gnaws his lip, deep in concentration, as he puzzles over the book. What he doesn't realize is that it's a book of magic, one that a typical human probably couldn't even muster the mystic talent to even read. Actual understanding would take knowledge that he simply doesn't have, but he's plugging away at it anyhow.

The latch on the door clicks as it's eased out of place, and it swings open just enough to admit the almost spiritlike woman who enters, with her drifty, floaty dress. It's almost like a nightdress, but it's serviceable -- and black, so all-purpose -- and flatters her appearance. It also kind of makes her look like a ghost.

But then there's the blush in her cheeks and the little shine in her eyes. All the joy isn't gone from her. She smiles softly, a little like a much younger Myrtle, like the hint of feeling is all that's allowed to escape, but that suffices.

"You're a hard man to pin down," Cordelia calls out, chuckling and shutting the door behind her, with a gesture of her hand and some expertly-applied telekinesis. "Do you always apply yourself like this, with everything?"

Stiles looks up, his lip still bitten down, to blink at Cordelia. His feet grow still, and his hand pauses mid-pageturn. "Oh, uh," he says, stumbling a bit, "I've been... here, mostly, except when I'm in my room." He shrugs faintly, then offers a little, awkward smile, "I mean, I guess I kinda do, but if I'm completely honest, half the time when I do, it's at something I shouldn't probably be doing in the first place." He closes the book and carefully sets it back on the table. "But now, I guess I'm just trying to focus on something that I can do that might be helpful, somehow." He grimaces. "*Un*fortunately, I'm accomplishing basically *nada*."

Cordelia comes closer, not gliding or floating but just walking a soft, graceful walk. She's tired, and it's plain to see, even in someone who should have practically boundless energy. But it seems that the Supreme, in this day and age, in these circumstances, is taxed just to exist. Still, she makes an effort and reaches out to rest her hand softly on that book.

"It looks like you dove into the deep end," she offers, opening it with a gesture of her hand and more of that handy telekinetic talent. It lightly finds its way to where Stiles had it before, and Delia's smile sweetens a bit when it does. "I'm going to take a little chance here and say...you *understand* what you're reading, right? It's just a matter of not having the experience. Like a lot of steps, but you've never done some of the things in those steps." Her tone is so soft and pleasing, her sounds well-rounded and not quite lisped into delicate tentative existence.

Stiles snorts a little, self-derisively, but he grins a bit, too. "Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I understand the words and everything, but I don't really know what to do with any of it or how it works or... any of it." He shrugs a bit helplessly. "I'm not sure if it's experience or what that I need, but whatever it is, I don't have it." He sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead some. "But, yeah, yeah. It's probably the wrong book again. I haven't found anything to help at all yet."

"Well, you're engaging it like Lady Nessa would, that's for sure." Cordelia is a little bit amused, apparently, just by looking the words over on the page. "This is a book that only people who have a spark of magic in them could read, for example." She gracefully waves her hand, closing the tome gently and letting it rest where it was set. Then she turns her head to look at Stiles. "Have you ever thought about maybe becoming a witch? Or you could call yourself a warlock, if you prefer. I never saw a real difference. Well." She tilts her head, as if a thought had come to her of some import. "Warlocks tend to wear more eyeliner. Witches lean to mascara."

Stiles blinks a few times at Cordelia, his jaw dropping slightly as he just... boggles. When he speaks, he has to choke back a bit of a splutter, saying, "Whaaah!?" His feet thump softly as they go flat against the floor, his hands rising up into the air in a kind of wild shrug of helplessness. "I mean... Deaton--he's a veterinarian, but, uh, also a druid--he said something like that, once, but I figured it was just kind of... I dunno. All I ever did with it was make a circle of mountain ash that was, maybe, a little bigger than I thought it--so I could really be a warl--wit--whichever!?"

"It doesn't matter what you want to call yourself," Delia answers, covering her mouth to hide the barely-contained start of a chuckle. "There are a lot of people around here with what you could call a spark. Some are different than others. You know the alpha spark." She motions with her hands lightly, not quite vaguely. "That's one kind of magical gift. I'm not going to assume that you want to learn the way I can teach, but...I have a feeling like you need to learn. And...if I'm honest..." She faintly frowns, then moves quickly past it. "I..." Trailing off, she shakes her head, waving a hand to dismiss the worry. "I've had some troubling visions. And this is something I can do, maybe the only thing I can do right now. We never know where the secret comes from that can save us when it's darkest."

Sitting forward, Stiles says, "Yes! Definitely, absolutely, yes." He hastily adds, "Please!" He holds his hands out, palms up. "Tell me what I've got to do, and I'll do it. I mean... magic, real magic? Do you know how freaking awesome it would be to learn that? That's, like... learning to use the Force, or... having super powers!" He pauses, holding up his hands, and hastily adds, "I'm not saying I think it's, like, a novelty or something. You gotta understand, when I talk about those things, it's with *absolute* reverence!" He pauses again, jaw working, and just manages to add, "I just... I dunno even what to say!"

After only a second's pause, Cordelia reaches out to take Stiles's hands in her own. And she looks happier, more alive even, as if just the interest and enthusiasm has renewed her somehow. "Okay, well. Since you like the Force, why don't we start with telekinesis? That's Myrtle's favorite." Her smile now is radiant, brilliant, and she looks so young and vibrant. "The funny thing is, she just uses it for little things. Practical magic, I guess you could call it."

Stiles practically bounces in his seat, and his grin is shamelessly broad, his eyes brighter than they've been since he got here. "That sounds *great*!" he declares. "Just... show me anything! Telekinesis? I, just... *holy crap*!" He grimaces, saying, "Sorry, sorry. Just, I'm excited. Don't mean to be rude or anything." He looks down at their hands, then looks up again, trying to pull it all together. "Thank you. I... I can barely even believe this, seriously. I'm halfway sure it's gonna turn out to be a dream."

"If you wake up and this was just a dream, then promise me you'll keep trying. Don't let yourself stop before you flip a lightswitch or turn a doorknob. And if you do nothing else," Cordelia softly replies, "let it remind you to believe in magic. That's a pretty important part of it. You have to at least acknowledge magic. Be mindful of magic. I can tell you from personal experience that mindset is very important. So let's just try to get into a nice space where everything is still. Where you can just focus on one thing and on one effect with that."

Stiles gets to his feet, somehow managing to give the impression of scrambling to get there despite it being such a simple thing to stand up. But, at least he manages it. Then, grinning and practically bouncing on his feet, he says, "If that's what I've got to do, then I was seriously born for it. I don't know anybody else who ever wanted to believe in magic more than me." That grin just won't quit. "Just, please, lead the way! This is the coolest thing *ever*." And it's one more reason why Derek *better* get back safe, and Lance *better* turn up before too long... because he just can't wait to tell them!