[He'll let Fantomex take it easily. Unless triggered or the magic within the crystal released, there won't be any risk to him. Well, even if something happened Cid can handle it.]
Anything with heat, so basically yes. The crystal itself can turn into a heating stone without producing any fire, but it can also creates actual flames for a fire, though only proportionate to its size and power unless amplified through other means.
Some uses they can be found in are more advanced stoves, heating units, and I've even made a heat sink utilizing them.
[Well in some respects it really is kind of "new age"—]
A push with your own magic or if it's part of something else, a mechanism that would do the same.
[He pulls out his pack of cigars and takes one out because what better way to demonstrate than lighting one? Hope he doesn't mind— But holding the crystal up to the cigar, Jean-Phillipe will see the small flicker of flame appear before the end of the cigar is lit, and just as quickly the flame disappears, leaving the crystal warm to the touch as he holds it out to him.]
The implication being that everyone can just 'do magic'? Are you serious?
[That doesn't even touch on how one 'pushes' with magic. He has a mutant ability, he knows how that works, how like another limb it is, but if magic is 'naturally occurring', well, it's even more important he learn to master this 'magitech'.
Seeing as there is nothing about Jean-Phillipe that is 'natural'. Someone tried to eliminate him from existence recently because of it. So rude.]
I don't smoke. It's a disgusting habit that will lead you to an early grave.
[There's no suggested judgement in his tone, though. If anything, the scent triggers a core memory of a man who was molded into a murderer in a much more cruel and invasive way than Jean-Phillipe himself was, and the pang of homesickness it invokes leaves him disoriented for a moment.
And so he takes the damned fire rock, still warm from its recent use, and glares at it as though a look could cause it to ignite.]
There's no activation switch.
[Said as he knows that there isn't one, that his 'magic' is supposed to turn it on, but he has no idea how that works.]
[Said as if he's saying the sky is blue—but he will just take one puff before being polite and walking over to his desk nearby to put it out on the ashtray. However, he will also note how he's reacting. Hmmm.]
I probably should have asked this first—have you gotten one of the tattoos?
[A low hum of understanding. It's certainly not something he brings up often—always an awkward thing and not necessary the best conversation starter after all. And while he does glance at Jean-Pierre for a moment, he won't press into the circumstances.
It happened, they're here, that's all that matters between them.
Instead he just chuckles.]
Well, I wouldn't go that far, but it does help with things. After all, can't really teach you how to use magic if you can't even access to begin with.
[A wink as he continues on.]
Have you ever had to release some kind of energy before from yourself?
Only have encountered a small handful who could do something in that field. If you ever had to focus on creating such illusions, then it's a similar focus with magic. At least for these crystals to activate, all you have to do is focus that kind of power into it and it'll react.
We are a rare breed. [He comments, tone casual but proud.] If you'd ever like a practical demonstration of just what I can do, let me know. I'll cook up something special for you. [And he has quite an imagination. It was a requirement for illusions to be believable, after all.
Cid's explanation gives him pause, though. To attempt using the magic of this place, he'd need to rely on the organic part of himself, then.]
Aren't you supposed to tell me to "focus my will" or something to that effect?
[There's a glint in Jean-Phillipe's eye that says he's looking forward to it. What can he say? He likes to brag.]
As easy as one lifts a finger then, eh?
[It does occur to him he may simply have a mental block against it. He's hardwired not to believe in anything, after all, let alone magic, and yet he's seen it at work. Cid here has no reason to lie to him, either.
He's overthinking this, definitely, but there's a part of him still raging at the impossibility of it all, that he would be capable of magic.]
Aye, exactly. Just a little nudge is all it takes to activate the core. Of course, more magic will create a stronger reaction, but we don't need to worry about that here.
[A grin.][Making it sound like a challenge, perhaps?]
[Outwardly, he only stares at the crystal, or at the least where it would have fallen if Cid hadn't caught it. Inwardly, his thoughts, and those of his second and even third brains, form something of a static in his mind until he can sort through them. He can't deny magic exists, he's seen it even before coming here, but it's always been something of the natural world.
Something he is not.
His third brain reminds him that the tattoo from this place might explain why he can here, to spite their origins. It's enough to allow him to focus, to shift his gaze back to Cid with wary interest.]
Don't patronize me. It shouldn't be possible. I'm not a fully organic organism.
[He's not even sure that's going to mean anything to Cid.]
[His eyes dart toward Cid, clearly he hadn't expected the man to accept the idea so readily, but he does breathe a sigh before reaching up and pulling off his mask. Now Cid knows what he looks like: chiseled features, dark and very fluffy hair, a few days worth of stubble.]
To be succinct, I am a bio-synthetic humanoid organism replicated from the DNA of mutants and assembled using nanites. Mutants are the next stage of human evolution beyond what you are now, possessing of powers both mundane and extraordinary. Nanites are microscopic machines, or machines that cannot be perceived unless one possesses the means to magnify their vision to see them.
[At first he doesn't really see much of a difference, but then his eyes widen at the explanations. Especially the nanites... It sounds familiar, and he'll stroke his chin in contemplation.]
That does sound quite extraordinary, and perhaps a little difficult to comprehend. But I think I have the gist of it.
[Now he just looks at him curiously.]
Does that mean you don't have the usual bodily functions of a human body or...?
Yes. I was cultivated in a way, in an artificial womb.
[Which means he has no father and his mother was a machine.]
And I'm not like the others. I can actually assure you, with information received from a man who monitors such things, that I am unique in all the multiverse.
[There's a rise of his brows in surprise, but he just nods. There will definitely things that go beyond his imagination, proving how vast the universe and these different worlds can be, but not really much to do other than try to understand and continue on.]
And because of your "unique nature," magic is supposedly not possible?
[Now that he says it, Jean-Phillipe really has no idea.]
Magic is, supposedly, some natural fabric of existence, correct? By that reasoning, a being created completely artificially shouldn't be able to touch it, should it?
Perhaps in some worlds, but even in my world there are "artificial creations" that were capable of using magic to some extent. There, and it seems here, "magic" is just harnessing the elemental energies and properties around you.
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Anything with heat, so basically yes. The crystal itself can turn into a heating stone without producing any fire, but it can also creates actual flames for a fire, though only proportionate to its size and power unless amplified through other means.
Some uses they can be found in are more advanced stoves, heating units, and I've even made a heat sink utilizing them.
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And how does one activate it? You imply there's energy always flowing through it. How do you "let it out" so to speak?
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A push with your own magic or if it's part of something else, a mechanism that would do the same.
[He pulls out his pack of cigars and takes one out because what better way to demonstrate than lighting one? Hope he doesn't mind— But holding the crystal up to the cigar, Jean-Phillipe will see the small flicker of flame appear before the end of the cigar is lit, and just as quickly the flame disappears, leaving the crystal warm to the touch as he holds it out to him.]
Quite simple, really. Care to try?
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[That doesn't even touch on how one 'pushes' with magic. He has a mutant ability, he knows how that works, how like another limb it is, but if magic is 'naturally occurring', well, it's even more important he learn to master this 'magitech'.
Seeing as there is nothing about Jean-Phillipe that is 'natural'. Someone tried to eliminate him from existence recently because of it. So rude.]
I don't smoke. It's a disgusting habit that will lead you to an early grave.
[There's no suggested judgement in his tone, though. If anything, the scent triggers a core memory of a man who was molded into a murderer in a much more cruel and invasive way than Jean-Phillipe himself was, and the pang of homesickness it invokes leaves him disoriented for a moment.
And so he takes the damned fire rock, still warm from its recent use, and glares at it as though a look could cause it to ignite.]
There's no activation switch.
[Said as he knows that there isn't one, that his 'magic' is supposed to turn it on, but he has no idea how that works.]
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Bit late for that.
[Said as if he's saying the sky is blue—but he will just take one puff before being polite and walking over to his desk nearby to put it out on the ashtray. However, he will also note how he's reacting. Hmmm.]
I probably should have asked this first—have you gotten one of the tattoos?
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I suppose that makes two of us, then.
[And yes, it still stings immensely that he's dead, but his usual reaction to such things is flippancy. No call to change course, really.]
And I have. [He tilts his head to the side in a bemused gesture.]
Is this the part where you tell me the anthropomorphic cephalopod made me a magical boy?
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It happened, they're here, that's all that matters between them.
Instead he just chuckles.]
Well, I wouldn't go that far, but it does help with things. After all, can't really teach you how to use magic if you can't even access to begin with.
[A wink as he continues on.]
Have you ever had to release some kind of energy before from yourself?
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[He taps on the top of a nearby workbench thoughtfully for a moment before continuing.]
I am part mutant. As such, I possess the power of misdirection. To put it simply, I can cast illusions.
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[An intrigued look.]
Only have encountered a small handful who could do something in that field. If you ever had to focus on creating such illusions, then it's a similar focus with magic. At least for these crystals to activate, all you have to do is focus that kind of power into it and it'll react.
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Cid's explanation gives him pause, though. To attempt using the magic of this place, he'd need to rely on the organic part of himself, then.]
Aren't you supposed to tell me to "focus my will" or something to that effect?
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[Ever the one to learn things!
But he just chuckles at that.]
While one's will does play a part for larger spells and abilities, when it comes to the tattoos, there's a bit less of it for a basic use like this.
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As easy as one lifts a finger then, eh?
[It does occur to him he may simply have a mental block against it. He's hardwired not to believe in anything, after all, let alone magic, and yet he's seen it at work. Cid here has no reason to lie to him, either.
He's overthinking this, definitely, but there's a part of him still raging at the impossibility of it all, that he would be capable of magic.]
Or the flicking of a switch...
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[A grin.][Making it sound like a challenge, perhaps?]
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That or he's very good at scamming people but Jean-Phillipe doesn't get that impression from him, either.
And so he takes the crystal again, raising it before his eyes, focusing on that minute thrum of light at its center, and wills it to brighten.
It's a fire crystal, though. He's not expecting the heat, even through his gloves, and he starts, dropping the thing.]
Gads! It worked!
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See? Not so hard now, is it?
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Something he is not.
His third brain reminds him that the tattoo from this place might explain why he can here, to spite their origins. It's enough to allow him to focus, to shift his gaze back to Cid with wary interest.]
Don't patronize me. It shouldn't be possible. I'm not a fully organic organism.
[He's not even sure that's going to mean anything to Cid.]
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Part machine?
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To be succinct, I am a bio-synthetic humanoid organism replicated from the DNA of mutants and assembled using nanites. Mutants are the next stage of human evolution beyond what you are now, possessing of powers both mundane and extraordinary. Nanites are microscopic machines, or machines that cannot be perceived unless one possesses the means to magnify their vision to see them.
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That does sound quite extraordinary, and perhaps a little difficult to comprehend. But I think I have the gist of it.
[Now he just looks at him curiously.]
Does that mean you don't have the usual bodily functions of a human body or...?
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[He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.]
But yes, Cid, for all intents and purposes, functionally, I am a real boy.
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Didn't mean anything by it. I've encountered a number of a different "humanoids" now, so just curious how you were like the others.
But you said you were...replicated. Does that you weren't born naturally and instead "created" in a different sense?
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[Which means he has no father and his mother was a machine.]
And I'm not like the others. I can actually assure you, with information received from a man who monitors such things, that I am unique in all the multiverse.
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And because of your "unique nature," magic is supposedly not possible?
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[Now that he says it, Jean-Phillipe really has no idea.]
Magic is, supposedly, some natural fabric of existence, correct? By that reasoning, a being created completely artificially shouldn't be able to touch it, should it?
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