[It is, thankfully; the one in the mug for Qubit ends up a traditional, warm brown, while Carlisle's is more of an amber color, tinted by the sap he poured in. Last but not least, Carlisle places a couple of fingers on the glyph beneath his mug: it ignites, shining brightly for a few seconds before the light dissipates, the lines erased from the page as they appear to evaporate into steam.
Speaking of steam, his mug is now doing a lot of that. Carlisle seems pretty pleased.]
So in your world, is everything like this? [He gestures toward the kettle.]
no subject
Speaking of steam, his mug is now doing a lot of that. Carlisle seems pretty pleased.]
So in your world, is everything like this? [He gestures toward the kettle.]