The Seanchaí Collection Senses of Humor Come in Four Types—Which One Are You?
Outfit (carrying smaller bag)

It had been some time since Zachary went downtown; he tended to avoid the densely populated city center when he could. However, today he had an open evening and a hopeful desire to visit a certain private library collection.

There wasn't any guarantee that Catrina would be there or even available, but at the worst, he could wind down a long week with an interesting book and read to his heart's content, tucked away on a comfy chair, for a few hours. If Catrina was there though... he had some exciting news to share.

Plus, he wanted to pick her brain for more illusion tips. Zachary was chugging along with touch and vision, but none of the other senses were anywhere close. Yesterday he tried to make some fake water and it both smelled and tasted like two entirely opposite things. His mind was a strange place to manifest that monstrosity. He shuttered and pressed ahead.

When the doors swung behind him, Zachary instantly felt the cool of the AC and the sharp scent of polished wood. He patted the messenger bag hung at his side and wandered in. No real desire to explore too much, he went to the same area he had visited before, setting his bag down and beginning to leaf through a book left on the table.
Zachary wouldn’t have to wait very long thought it would be some minutes. Catrina was in fact in the library, working away, but hadn’t seen him come in. Walking through the hallways from one task and another, it was a familiar signature smell that had her stalling in thought outside a particular door.

The rest could wait, her curiosity absolutely not.

Heading into the room, she’d spot the young psychic looking engrossed in a text where ink provided many a story and Catrina wondered which was opened before him. ”Anything interesting,” she asked from the other side of the table with a warm smile.
He only noticed her when a slight shadow drew over the edge of the book. Zachary pulled his head up and his surprise turned into a stretched smile.

Catrina's eyesight was drawn down the to book and he lazily turned the current page. "Afriad I can't read it." He confessed, thumb running along the edge of the paper. It looked like English letters but the words made no sense. Something old or perhaps in an entirely different language.

Zachary pushed the book to her end of the table. "Just stopped by to see if you were in." He let a little of his excitement show; he had hoped they could discuss illusion today.

However, when he raised his head something felt off. Her energy had shifted. The usual ping of 'power' was still there, just as before, but now it came with an echo. A different echo.

Zachary had always likened the ability to a bat using echolocation. He would send out a small dart of his own energy and then wait for it to come back. If it did, then he knew there was something supernatural about a person. As if they were saying 'hello, I'm here too.'

With Catrina, the usual nudge of energy was returned along with the sensation of ice flowing down the back of his throat.

What. Zachary screwed his eyes shut, turned his head, and began violently coughing into a fist.
Humor laced her lips as she looked from his face to the book shifted towards her at the admission. Carefully pulling it closer to her, Catrina turned a few pages, the old paper rustling with the movement before giving her full attention to Zachary. He had hoped to see her, what a kind sentiment.

”And as luck would have it, here I am,” she returned in amusing delight that was short lived as he suddenly jerked away.

A cough followed and she approached with a face pulled into genuine worry.

”Do you need some water?”
Zachary pounded lightly on his sternum. The icy feeling had started to dissipate but he was still feeling the aftermath effects.

Water was something he had in abundance naturally, but he didn't want to turn down her generosity. "Yes, if you have any." He managed to croak out.

It didn't make any sense, the sudden backfire of his own ability. Did something happen to make it act up? Another cough crawled its way up his throat. There wasn't anything to dislodge, so it was mostly a rough exhale of air into his wrist.

Worse, he could tell his eyes were misty and at least one nostril was runny. Zachary used the moment after the cough to wipe his face along the back of his hand, scrunching his face at the oily feel of his skin. Whatever that was, he didn't want to experience it again.
As his frame shook through another rough spasm, she nodded to the agreement. Slipping off at a fast clip, Catrina would head off to the staff room. Baskets filled with snacks and a fridge with water and staff member’s various lunches, she pulled out a fresh bottle and would make her way back.

It wouldn’t be that long before she was returning, offering out the water and wondering if all was alright. ”Here you are,” Catrina announced, not sure if she’d caught any sign of sickness in his throat with an inhale or not previously, but paying attention now.
His throat was back to normal almost instantly, whatever attack had startled Zachary more than anything else. He took the water gratefully and unscrewed the cap with bleary eyes.

Face hot from the exertion of hacking up a lung for a split second and also embarrassing himself so thoroughly in front of Catrina. "Sorry 'bout that." He said, bringing the bottle to his lips for a quick gulp. Thankfully this went all down the right pipe, but the memory of seconds before had his control slipping.

A little water managed to trickle down his throat, but the rest was clogged up - frozen solid in the bottle from a misfire of his own power. "Aw, crap. Sorry." Zachary switch hands and wiped at the frost build-up. He was really struggling today.
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