Obviously not, he can't turn his blood into both at once. They're a one at a time deal.
The little buckler appears, and Ford starts: he looks at it in surprise, then turns his arm around to examine it from a few more angles. He's still trying to figure it out when Bill mentions DD&MD, and he answers half-distracted by the mechanics of the magic shield. "Mm, hard to say. There's plenty of spells I used to use back in the day -- Generic Magic Blast, Prestochangatation, Raise Undead -- I've always been fond of Mallefluvius's Rope Trick. But what does that have to do with this?" Look man, give him the opportunity to nerd out and he'll nerd first and ask questions later.
"That was a disaster," Ford argues, making a sweeping one-handed gesture like he's clearing a pile of his own missteps off an invisible table. "If it hasn't been for that barbershop quartet, I'd have been done for!"
Sure is lucky no one else is listening to this, or else that would have sounded humorously random and certainly have piqued a listener's curiosity about just what kind of story could possibly be behind a statement like that.
"THAT WAS GREAT. ...ANYWAY, I CAN'T GIVE YOU ROPE TRICK. IF IT WAS THAT EASY TO KNOCK A HOLE BETWEEN DIMENSIONS I'D HAVE DONE IT ALREADY! GENERIC BLAST COULD BE DONE... YOU MIGHT NEED TO MAKE A WAND!"
Prestochangination he's straight up not getting. You've already killed Bill with a sleight of hand illusion once. Fuck you guys.
"Wait, wait, wait. You're asking me for Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons spells so that you can give me the real-life edition versions?"
Ford's smelling something suspicious. The nerd spells, the shield, all of it is starting to feel like overkill. It's too much; he doesn't trust it.
"Bill, I got killed once. The effect on you wasn't even fatal! We've already worked out precautions against blood sorcery. That's fine. But if you're trying to put me in your debt by giving me more magic than I need, I'm not interested in owing you a favor."
Ford dispels the arm-shield with a quick outward jerk of the arm. "I don't need you handing me weapons, Cipher, I'm perfectly capable of building my own! I'll take it from here."
"What I've got will be more than sufficient to keep me alive in the event of a similar spell. In the meantime, if you really hate it so much, try to avoid insulting blood sorcerers!"
"FIRST OF ALL, I INSULT EVERYONE! SECOND OF ALL, HE DIDN'T NEED A REASON, HE JUST DOES THIS SOMETIMES! DID YOU SEE WHAT HORSERIVER DID TO HIS WARDEN? ODD THOMAS COULDN'T INSULT SOMEONE WITH A GUN TO HIS HEAD."
"Neither am I!" Ford insists angrily. "I don't need your help, Bill. I survived thirty years in dozens of hostile dimensions without it, and now that I know what I'm up against, I have more than enough defenses against it. He won't get me the same way again, so -- just calm down!"
Ford makes a mental note to ask Horseriver -- after he's put in the anti-magic runes.
"Because nothing from you is ever free!" Just because he can't see the strings doesn't mean they aren't attached. Appealing to his love of D, D & MD gave it away: it's too nice and therefore suspicious. "I'll manage just fine with what I have! There's no need to bring Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons into it."
"Don't make me anything else," Ford insists, very stubbornly. He's not going to take it. It doesn't just make him suspicious that he's having everything but the magical kitchen sink thrown at him. He's bristling because he's perfectly capable of handling this alone. He doesn't need help from Bill to keep himself from getting killed the same way twice. He holds up both his hands and pushes them in Bill's direction, a gesture for stop, enough. "I've got it. I'm good."
Ford scowls. The other Bill disappears, spiralling down into a central point, and he's followed in the next few seconds by the rest of the scene. Everything but the real Bill and Ford is sucked into an intangible gravity well and they're left standing in a plain blue field. Empty. Calm. Featureless.
"WELL YOU DON'T LIKE IT WHEN I'M MEAN, AND YOU DON'T LIKE IT WHEN I DO YOU A FAVOR! YOU PROBABLY HAVE SOME STUFF TO SORT OUT. I'LL LET YOU GET ON THAT!"
Ugh, no, the last thing he wants is to introspect about Bill. Having a nice, calm dream of meditative ocean waves and deliberately thinking about nothing at all sounds much better. He's going to close his eyes, cross his legs, and float in the field of nothingness. Maybe he'll work on something. Sorting out his own emotions isn't important and never has been. He hates Bill; that's the obvious answer, and that is definitely all there is to it.
It doesn't matter that he hates this Bill less than the other one. Or that the Bills have differences that are significant. Or that he's attached his own future to Bill's fate of his own free will. None of those facts have any relevance and will be treated as such. Nope. Only ocean waves and weapon designs in this dreamscape.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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The little buckler appears, and Ford starts: he looks at it in surprise, then turns his arm around to examine it from a few more angles. He's still trying to figure it out when Bill mentions DD&MD, and he answers half-distracted by the mechanics of the magic shield. "Mm, hard to say. There's plenty of spells I used to use back in the day -- Generic Magic Blast, Prestochangatation, Raise Undead -- I've always been fond of Mallefluvius's Rope Trick. But what does that have to do with this?" Look man, give him the opportunity to nerd out and he'll nerd first and ask questions later.
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Really well = someone almost died.
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Sure is lucky no one else is listening to this, or else that would have sounded humorously random and certainly have piqued a listener's curiosity about just what kind of story could possibly be behind a statement like that.
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Prestochangination he's straight up not getting. You've already killed Bill with a sleight of hand illusion once. Fuck you guys.
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Ford's smelling something suspicious. The nerd spells, the shield, all of it is starting to feel like overkill. It's too much; he doesn't trust it.
"Bill, I got killed once. The effect on you wasn't even fatal! We've already worked out precautions against blood sorcery. That's fine. But if you're trying to put me in your debt by giving me more magic than I need, I'm not interested in owing you a favor."
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Ford dispels the arm-shield with a quick outward jerk of the arm. "I don't need you handing me weapons, Cipher, I'm perfectly capable of building my own! I'll take it from here."
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"Well, since you clearly know him better than I do, what are the odds that he'll even try the whole blood-magic psychic-connection trick again?"
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"IT WAS A BAD CURSE!"
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"Because nothing from you is ever free!" Just because he can't see the strings doesn't mean they aren't attached. Appealing to his love of D, D & MD gave it away: it's too nice and therefore suspicious. "I'll manage just fine with what I have! There's no need to bring Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons into it."
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"YEAH, YOU'RE WELCOME. SHEESH. I'LL HEAD OUT, THEN!"
Bill steps to the side and restores the dream-projection Bill.
"YOU WANNA GO BACK TO WHAT YOU WERE DOING HERE?"
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He'll probably be able to take the dream back over and put a stop to it once Bill leaves, since he's lucid now. Probably.
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"Quite sure, thank you."
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Bill vanishes in a blinding flash of blue.
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It doesn't matter that he hates this Bill less than the other one. Or that the Bills have differences that are significant. Or that he's attached his own future to Bill's fate of his own free will. None of those facts have any relevance and will be treated as such. Nope. Only ocean waves and weapon designs in this dreamscape.