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[medivhal]

[Medivh stands in front of his comm, it hovering by a gentle gesture from one outstretched hand. He scowls once before turning away, tossing over a number of rocks and pieces of metal. He has a small table in his room, which he's scorched and nearly torn apart with small experiments. Picking up and slamming a number of the rocks and metals down on the table-top, Medivh's hand turned over and an arcane trickle of magic imbued itself into the scraps he set down. Bit by bit, those scraps hardened and turned more dense, becoming pink crystals, which eventually shaped themselves into a little crystal imp. The imp looked around and suddenly shrieked with hollow, mechanical laughter before Medivh fed it a fresh scowl.]

I had forgotten what I had set out to say.

[He turned his hand open and with one callous gesture, he blew up the imp with a ball of flame. Shards of crystal flew around the room, some embedding in the walls.]

...Ah, yes. A library. I notice this place lacks paper. You may seem pleased with your affinity towards liquid chemicals and electricity, but I prefer something with more texture. Now, I require one thing of you. A date.

[Medivh's fingertip made looks in the air, the crystals slowly returning to where they were on the table. The imp began to reform, but in a patchwork sort of way. When he was done reforming, the imp didn't move so much, looking a bit less excited than he initially was.]

I need a date in which a suitable library would be present on the barren planet below. Make haste--my patience has already given way. You should learn quickly--a bored magus is a terrible thing.

[So, he blew up the imp again.]

Comments

[medivhal]

It'll emit smoke. 'Sulfur' smells a bit like rotting eggs when burning. It'll sting your eyes, so if it begins to smell--take it off.

Enough of it and you can become very, very sick.

[He'd gotten used to the young creature's sense for communication. Curiously enough, Medivh watched as he began to write notes.

He'd never seen anyone write music, before.]

[smallest]

[That did not sound like a good smell. He nodded once to show that he understood the warning.

He wrote at a quick pace. For the past few weeks, he had been working on a new composition. Yet without paper, he had been managing with what he could dedicate to memory. Now he poured out all he could remember. He ran out of space before he could reach his limit, so he continued drawing more lines. This method was a little slower than he liked, but at least it was a way he could write it out.]