What you actually detect is a fairly large collection of moments of science. There's quite a number of questions to answer, from 'why is it doing that?', to 'what mechanism is it using?', to 'how do I work with it?'. Each one of those needs sciencing.
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Entry 34 (Day 425)...you know, it's ironic. I just spent the last three days systematically testing my magic. I re-did the math. I had Malleus run the numbers, check my math, and simulate the results of casting the spells I learned. I cast all four of the spells I've learned to date, with every variation I've managed to come up with, at every level of power they can handle. All of this, I have done- in a mere three days, no less!- because my cyborg body allows me to go without sleep for days on end.
The irony is that that same body is responsible for the problem I've been dealing with.
The first two days went smoothly. I couldn't find a flaw in my math, and neither could Malleus. The sims all looked good. When I tried to cast Magic Missile, it did precisely what it was expected to do... even when I tried it laying on my belly, or thrown over the shoulder of a bemused Tre.
The breakthrough came on the third day, when I started testing my spells in (simulated) combat. Tre was gone (off on a mission, I just found out), so I got Cinque to serve as both target and motivating factor (read: ranged attacker) for the test.
The instant I said "Begin", a pair of mana-infused daggers were flying at my face. I embraced my cyborg side, used the enhanced reflexes that gave me to dodge one dagger and deflect the other with a shield, and then cast Magic Missile.
All six missiles fell to the ground before reaching Cinque. The blue magic splashed across the floor of the containment room, accomplishing nothing, before fading out entirely.
I looked over at Cinque. "My eyes are gold right now, aren't they."
It wasn't a question.
Once I knew the what of the problem, I ran through all my spells again in cyborg mode, this time recording all the data for analysis. At the very least, it'll help me figure out the what of the problem, so I can compensate for it. At best, I might figure out the how of it, and see about getting the problem solved permanently.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
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Entry 34 (Day 425)...you know, it's ironic. I just spent the last three days systematically testing my magic. I re-did the math. I had Malleus run the numbers, check my math, and simulate the results of casting the spells I learned. I cast all four of the spells I've learned to date, with every variation I've managed to come up with, at every level of power they can handle. All of this, I have done- in a mere three days, no less!- because my cyborg body allows me to go without sleep for days on end.
The irony is that that same body is responsible for the problem I've been dealing with.
The first two days went smoothly. I couldn't find a flaw in my math, and neither could Malleus. The sims all looked good. When I tried to cast Magic Missile, it did precisely what it was expected to do... even when I tried it laying on my belly, or thrown over the shoulder of a bemused Tre.
The breakthrough came on the third day, when I started testing my spells in (simulated) combat. Tre was gone (off on a mission, I just found out), so I got Cinque to serve as both target and motivating factor (read: ranged attacker) for the test.
The instant I said "Begin", a pair of mana-infused daggers were flying at my face. I embraced my cyborg side, used the enhanced reflexes that gave me to dodge one dagger and deflect the other with a shield, and then cast Magic Missile.
All six missiles fell to the ground before reaching Cinque. The blue magic splashed across the floor of the containment room, accomplishing nothing, before fading out entirely.
I looked over at Cinque. "My eyes are gold right now, aren't they."
It wasn't a question.
Once I knew the what of the problem, I ran through all my spells again in cyborg mode, this time recording all the data for analysis. At the very least, it'll help me figure out the what of the problem, so I can compensate for it. At best, I might figure out the how of it, and see about getting the problem solved permanently.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.