one —
[ This is new.

That's not to say that Bartimaeus is the type to be stymied by new surroundings – they're his bread and butter, his raison d'être, if you will. But when you're expecting to be sent home at long last, after six miserable weeks on Earth, the last thing you might expect is ending up in some dystopian future world surrounded by the most alarming, hideous constructions,¹ and locked in a windowless "safehouse" until further notice, it requires a sharp realignment of the senses and priorities, as well as the laying of blame at anyone else's feet but his own. Nathaniel's fault, probably. That idiot.

First of all, Bartimaeus is quite alarmed to discover that, no matter how hard he strains, he has no more access to the seven planes. It's making him squint at just about everyone with hitherto unexperienced levels of suspicion. Secondly – and this he discovers while attempting to loose a Detonation squarely at that offensive door blocking his access to the rest of the world – his magic is gone. No Plasms, no Infernos, no Convulsions, No Compressions, Spasms, or Shields... Nothing. Just little old him, in what seems to be the last concrete form he'd occupied before he landed here. The solidness of his body is a little alarming, for someone used to shapeshifting the way humans are used to breathing.

It takes him a while to realise he's not completely without ability. He picks one of the cots and sits down cross-legged, a young Egyptian boy with a sharp, world-weary face, hands loosely on his knees. He shuts his eyes and concentrates, very hard. He's never concentrated this hard on changing form before and it's giving him something of a headache. He looks like he's meditating.

When he opens his eyes after five torturous minutes, one of his eyebrows is bright, neon green. He's entirely unaware of this. What he is aware of, though, is someone staring at him. ]

What? [ he asks, in a detached tone that yet implies great sovereignty over this unseemly individual. ] Spit it out.

[ ¹ Read: humans. ]

two —
[ He's been stuck in this safehouse for two days before he realises that the ravenous stomach pains that have been following him around all this time are probably because he's hungry. Bartimaeus staggers into the kitchen as if he's about to drop dead, flopping over the counters and shoving some sort of nut-based bread into what he is almost certain is a toaster. The wait is torture. He isn't even sure if the thing's working until smoke starts to billow furiously out of the top, at which point he realises the bread is definitely burnt to a crisp, sending volumes of foul burnt smell wafting throughout the safehouse.

Very subtly, he slides out a new, regular piece of bread, tears off a chunk and stuffs it into his mouth, leaning casually against the counter. Anyone who wanders into the kitchen will be greeted with a smile and a cheery wave, as he acts as if the acrid smell of burnt toast isn't currently choking his nostrils. ] Afternoon. Or, morning. I can't tell. Feels like an afternoon, though.

three —
[ This neural implant thing is rather worrying in its implications, chiefly because he didn't even think he went to the effort of crafting himself a discrete brain when he was shifting forms. But with an intellect like his, astounding acts of creation shouldn't really surprise, even if they do delight and awe. Anyway, he needs a new name, and for personal reasons 'Bartimaeus' just won't do. He'd thought about John Mandrake, out of pure spite directed at Nathaniel for what he assumes was a colossal amateur foible in the pentacle, but he really doesn't want to go around having people call him that for however long he's going to be stuck here. Every other name he cycles through is entirely too ostentatious, since he's definitely more of the subtle type. Luckily for him, he can stay mysterious for now. ]

un: anonymous
Can any magicians (present or past) please identify themselves? I'm tabulating a list.

[ ...of people to never interact with under any circumstances, but nobody needs to know that. ]

[ hit me up at crowders to do a lil plotting or just toss something else at me! ]