Barbara
`Mystic Interpretations. 24th of Rain's Hand, 4E 221.`
Debbie
Accessing the Solitude Jail took some immense... Tactical maneuvering. As in, his relationship with Sybil Stentor had become somewhat amacable, and the two had often times shared notes on various subjects of arcane research, particularly Mysticism. Varis found great enjoyment in explaining the theoretics he had come across in his endless formulas and equations to the Breton, and subsequently hearing of her broad range of experience in such arts. 

It was almost breath taking, to find such an experienced spell caster in the capital of Skyrim. And, to boot, she would have made an exquisite addition to the Great House Telvanni. Her knowledge exceeded her apparent age, allowing Varis to speculate on many kinds of reasons for her long lived amount of experience. Perhaps she was a vampire, like that one he had met a few days prior? 

Whatever the case, Varis did not think too long on it. He wanted access to the dungeons, to perform some experiments. He said as much to Sybil, and she passed along the message to Falk Firebeard. The word of the Breton was strong among the council of nobles surrounding the Queen, and the Housecarl was relatively intrigued. After all, Varis had been an exceptional addition to the city, what with the enchantments given to the guards' arsenal of weapons, and providing shipments of foreign goods to the city. Some of which the Nord Housecarl partook in regularly. 

Thus, it took patience, but it was not exuberantly difficult to get his first test subject, in a dimly lit room, where Thalmor Justiciars had once beaten and tortured information out of Stormcloak prisoners. 

Varis grinned as he locked the door behind him, and turned toward his test subject.
Maurice
The man sat in his chair, bound by his feet and hands, and chains wrapping him around the bolted down chair. He huffed as he looked up at the Dunmer who walked through the door, and he let out a growl intended to scare the little man off, as his hulking frame, even bound, was an intimidating sight.
Debbie
The Dunmer raised an eyebrow, reached into his robes, and plucked out a notebook. He opened to the first few pages, flipping until he pressed a finger down on the page, and said casually, "Torb Asgarick. Native of Solitude, traitor to the realm after you helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape Solitude, twenty years ago, and fled into the mountains of Haafingar, to continue the rebellion. You posed as a bandit, and only ever agreed to raid Imperial Caravans."

He looked up from his notes, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Do I have the right person, in front of me?"
Maurice
His mouth was not gagged, but he did not speak. He only glared, with eyes that could shoot daggers from a taught drawstring.
Debbie
"Hm. Good." He walked forward, placed the notebook back in his robes, and placed his hands together as he examined the man. "I had the guards bring you here for an experiment of mine. I imagine you've heard a few rumors about what Sybil Stentor does to her specimens?"
Maurice
That seemed to draw some sort of reaction, as he leaned back a little, and mauled a bit. He remained silent, but his wariness increased.
Debbie
"A pity. I was hoping you'd enlighten me with a few." He shrugged and walked closer, and whisked his hand over Torb's body. Immediately, a wave of arcana flowed from his fingertips, and slithered itself into the shackles binding the man, increasing their weight and forcing him to feel even more discomfort. "Well, lucky for you, today, you will have the opportunity to help aid the pursuit of arcane knowledge. Particularly, my knowledge. With a few experiments of mine. First, I want to test a new kind of Mark and Recall spell. A, teleportation, if you will."
Maurice
His eyebrows knitted together, as he huffed a gasp of air, surprised at the sudden weight holding his hands and feet down. Now, he really had no chance of fighting back. The man was a mage. That should have been obvious, but as the man continued to explain his reason for the two being there, Torb leaned back a little, as much as he could. He had no idea what Varis was talking about. He never studied magic, much less heard about some gods forsaken marking spell.
Debbie
Noting the man's lack of recognition for these words, Varis sighed as he shook his head. "Hm. Well, it would be better if you knew what was about to happen to you, but, I don't have the time to explain." As he spoke, he began to move his hands over Torb's body, incricately placing glyphs in the air, and floating runes that emenated an arcane signature, resonating with power and energy. It was a strange sight, almost like an intricate candlelight spell, but many of them, and with far less light. 

In reality, he was creating a pseudo channel of energy around the man, carefully assessing the man's locale and equalizing his center of gravity with the world. This step was utterly uncessary for the current moment, but it helped in the case Varis wished to perform this spell in, say, the planes of Oblivion. 

Whatever the case, when Varis was done, he stepped back, and began to speak his incantation. It was in Dunmeri, the language he was most fluent in, just so that he would not mess up any parts of the process. When he finished the first part, his fingers produced a series of purple flames. They were small, and quickly died out into trails of smoke, endless trails of smoke, as if the fire had died, but the burning matter did not stop.

Varis then walked forward, holding his eyes shut as he held his hands in Torb's direction, and whispered the final phrase.
Maurice
In a flash of unconsciousness, his mind blossomed in all direction. He slammed into the wall, stretched into the ceiling, slid into the table, the space between particles in the table, wrapped himself around even smaller wavelengths, and slid into the fire, burning and scalding his mind like a melted metal. 

The man's mind was in all direction, every layer of insight, twisted and pushed backwards, forward, downwards, and inverted directly into looking out from the inside of his heart, feeling the pulses pumping blood throughout his body, and then the shimmering of light through his body, as his material flesh started to vanish, piece by piece, resonating and shimmering until it was whisked away, leaving his heart, until those walls too began to vanish, and then he was left in a void, witnessing his body across the other side of the room. 

Then, his mind followed, like water sliding back into a clay pot, until the clay pot sealed itself back up, and he was back in his body. 

He looked out through his eyes, mouth wide open, and drool pooling in his bottom lip. He was there. He was conscious. He did not know how to move. He tried to move, to close his mouth as he felt it dry a little, but with no success whatsoever.
Debbie
Varis walked over toward Torb, who had reappeared on the opposite side of Varis, just as intended, and frowned a little as he leaned down and inspected the current status of the subject. He frowned a little, as he watched the drool pool, and begin to spill over his bottom lip, falling on his rags. "Hm. Just like that skeever."

Varis shook his head, "I had hoped changing the speed of the teleportation would speed up the recovery process."

He tapped his chin, looked around, and said, "Ah, yes, I see." He walked over toward an apple laying in a bowl. For some reason, a bowl of apples were there. Perhaps a means of torture? To starve someone, and have the torturer eat an apple in front of them? Whatever the case was, he picked it up, walked over to Torb, and stuck it in the man's hand. 

In the meantime, he turned toward a table, and started to write down some notes.
Maurice
He stared at Varis, as he remained completely unable to move. He tried to look around, but not even his eyes responded to internal commands. He tried to look around, but could only see through his peripheral vision, and as his eyes started to dry up, he felt it all, and wanted to scream as he could feel them get redder and redder with every moment he could not blink.
Debbie
After a few minutes of writing and adjusting formulas, he stepped back, nodded, and turned toward Torb, and glanced at the blood-shot eyes, with specks of dust lost in the sclera. "Ah... Hm. Tragic. That must hurt, huh?"
Maurice
He could not even make a noise.
Debbie
"Hm. Totally unresponsive." He turned back to his notebook and started writing some more.
Maurice
At this point, he could not even dream of wringing the Dunmer's neck over the feelings of agony.
Debbie
The Telvanni Wizard turned back around and said, "Alright, let's begin the next trial, hm? This one should fix you." He performed the spell again, just as he had before.
Maurice
In that moment, when the spell was cast, instead of his mind being blasted outward in all directions, his mind was able to focus on the apple. Another living creature. Perhaps a creature was not the right word, but he recognized the apple. He saw it for what it was, a living thing, with the potential for vast life to grow from the tiny seeds in its core. He could visualize apple trees, with all sorts of bugs and birds sitting in its canopy, just as he had seen when he was a little boy. 

When he reappeared, he had not felt his body dematerialize, and did not notice that the apple had become ash in his hand. 

He raised his hand, looking at the ash, and then, realized that he could move his body again. 

"Huh...?"
Debbie
"Hah! Success. Though, requiring an apple... Now, that is odd."

He tapped his chin with his pen, and shrugged as he turned around. "Perhaps some level of nutrition is required to stabilize it. A fatigued mind may require more arcana, if used on oneself..."
Maurice
Shocked and utterly in a state of disrepair, Torb leaned back, staring up at Varis as the man simply started writing in his notebook, and said with a breathless tone, "You want to do this to yourself?"
Debbie
He turned his head. "I am pursueing a new means of teleportation. Its all in the subtleties! Spells have been a fluid thing for centuries. Redundant, less efficient spells are thrown to the wayside in favor of more streamlined, more magicka-efficient spells. For instance, this spell I am developing, aims to utilize less magicka for the same effect as a traditional, standard practice Mark and Recall spell. Additionally, it will be capable of teleporting someone directly to a place in their mind that exists, not just an anchor one places to where someone has already been."
Maurice
He stared at Varis for a bit, and said, "What if you teleport somewhere that doesn't exist?"
Debbie
Varis raised an eyebrow. "Like, a dream? An imagined location? Somewhere you thought was real but actually isn't?"

"Then you've probably simply whisked yourself to some place in Oblivion. Probably one of Vaermina's spheres of influence."
Maurice
"And, what if, you teleport yourself to your own mind?"
Debbie
He stared at Torb for a moment, and placed a hand to his chin. "Was partial enlighten a result of this spell, for you?"
Maurice
"I... Saw, some... Things, the first time. A lot of... Weird stuff." He looked around. Was he even in the real world? There seemed to be so many things he never realized before.
Debbie
"Huh... Fascinating." He placed a finger to his temple, closed his eyes, and frowned a little. "Hm. Seems I only have a few more hours before I have to get to my next appointment. Are you prepared to continue?"
Maurice
"Do I have a choice?"
Debbie
He smirked a little, "No."