As soon as his wheelchair started sliding forward, his right arm slung forward to push the brake lever. His head jolted up, and he hurriedly fixed his glasses and cloth mask, looking around. It's just the ship, it's just moving. He reversed until his chair hit the wall and slumped his head back in relief, when a strange force buzzed trying to repel him. He tapped the wall with his head. What is this? A barrier? He tried to phase his head through the wall, to no avail. Did Ember put this up? Was this made specifically for him? He would not fault her for this, he did trespass, but if she thinks there is sexual interest at play to the point she'd call him a pervert, she is mistaken. However, this next series of moves would only do the opposite of placing him in her good graces. His left arm twists back and he takes hold of the wall. Segments of the room's surfaces -- the walls, the floor, the ceiling -- begin to struggle and vibrate, in his attempt to uproot the barrier off the wall and make it easier to dismantle. Cracks in the barrier start to form from the side of the room furthest from him, and the loose shards of this metaphysical barrier floated towards him, reconverted into mana. After about a third of the barrier gone, he suddenly stops. He was losing more mana from shattering the barrier than he gained from absorbing it. He slumps his head forward. It pains him that he's still a novice at his own powers. [@spiral origin] He looks up. He's drawn to the layers of gold scratching the wood floors of the deck, and eventually the stairs. That poor lad. As long as that luggage touches the floor, he should find it a lot easier to move wherever he needs to. He stared at the noble who soon followed him. It's that fake smile again. At this point, he started to detest it. However, just seeing that is nowhere near enough to determine character. Instead, it is inconvenience that shines the brightest light at people's psyches. It would surely be a shame if the floor suddenly shifted backwards to make him slip and fall.