[Gossamer Wing] The Eagles rarely go to the attic of the packhouse any longer. This is unsurprising, since the Godi has made it her own – from the outdoor balcony garden that takes up a 1/4 of the space, the wind blocked from entering the rest of the attic only by thick plastic and 2x4s, the garish christams lights, the little girl feel of the room, the shelves full of toys – at least one of them (A toy police car) moving of it’s own free will. They’re not quite sure WHAT traps she may have in store for them up here…. so they steer clear.
Joss appreciates the privacy, truth be told. It’s here she can work, she can make deals, she can coerce the spirits and befriend them so that they aid the Eagles and Sept in the fight against the Wyrm. Right now, though, it’s all about cultivating her little garden.
She’s on the balcony, crouched by the pots and planters, barefoot. She doesn’t wear gloves – who would? – and is cheerfully digging in the soil, pulling the weeds, pruning where necessary. Nearby bees buzz and work tirelessly in the little beehive she’s made them, while bird feeders of all shapes and sizes hang from the rafters. Along the edges of the balcony, squirrel feeders, and other such things. It’s practically a Disney Princess set up – but for the whole raging slobbering beast under her skin thing…
[Hummingbird] The sunlight speaks. And it’s voice is a bird:
It glitters half-guessed half seen half-heard
Above the flower bed. Over the lawn …
A flashing dip and it is gone.
And all it lends to the eye is this —
A sunbeam giving the air a kiss.
It tickles at an ear, brushes across a cheek.
A soft chiming whisper of the Fenrir’s name.
Gossamer. Gossamer. Gossamer Wing.
Listen, little sister, listen to the wind.
Listen to the buzz and the hum.
And hear the dance of the tiny messenger.
Emerald and Crimson breast shines,
Wings glistens like in the sunlight,
Kissed by a thousand burning suns,
Ruby-bright.
A hummingbird sings its call.
[Gossamer Wing] Her voice on a sunbeam, whispered on wind, gets her attention. She looks up and searches, lifting a hand to shove her dreads back over her shoulder, to hang heavily down her back. that this leaves a smudge of dirt across her cheek, in her hair, doesn’t seem to bother her at all.
She smiles when she sees the hummingbird singing it’s call, forcusing on the buzz and hum. She turns slightly to a different pot, where a single favored flower blooms – the shape a deep bell, filled with sweet nectar that only the hummingbird can reach. She sets it on the floorboards before her as an offering of refreshment, and falls still, listening, and waiting, her voice soft, in the voice only Spirits understand…
“I am Gossamer Wing, you have a message for me?”
[Hummingbird] If it were flesh and bone and blood,
If it were bright and cheery and lively,
There would the tiniest and most delicate of birds,
Drinking from the offer of refreshment.
There is haste in the hummingbird.
Joss will feel it as the smallest wind flutters,
No, more like batters against her ears.
The velvet-light touch of wings caressing skin.
The little bird materializes near her head,
Caught in the peripheral of her eyes.
It hums and sings in her ear.
“Listen, listens, little sister.
Hot-blood, North Wind’s Wolf.
Message bring from secret place.
Dark place, of dreams and nightmares,
Palace of Sins and Pains,
On the edge of Cruelty’s Domain.
Uktena wanders.
Uktena lost.
Uktena dreams.”
[Gossamer Wing] (int+occult)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6) [WP]
[Gossamer Wing] (HAIL KAHSEENO. she REALLY wants to know!)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Gossamer Wing] She does not flinch as it batters across her ears, does not move as it delivers the message of a friend lost.
“Wahya.”
He’s lost, he dreams, he wanders… her brow furrows slightly, but she does not pull away from the little voice in her ear, concentrating, picking apart the whispers bit by bit, focusing the whole of her attention on what clues she’s being given. “He’s gone to Malfeas? Alone? Why? What does he seek… What does he need me to do…”
The location is one thing – the worry for a friend the other.
[Hummingbird] “Uktena seeks the Master.
The Master is child’s play.
Beyond the Cruelty domain,
Duchy Aife’s field.
The caliph of Pain,
The master of the Cruelty realm.
The hand of the Urge of Cruelty.
Torture and pain, both physical and mental.
Uktena suffers.
Uktena desires.
Uktena trespasses.
Little girl, dancing.
Nameless, giggling.
Desires to carve herself a play room
The Garden of Nightmares,
On the edge of the realms of Dreams.”
The humming bird sways and flows,
It dips and zips, zagging to and fro.
It moves west and east,
North and South.
Frantic.
“Aife desires…”
[Gossamer Wing] (HAIL KAHSEENO. I promise she’s nut as dumb as her player!)
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Gossamer Wing] THIS TIME WITH MORE WILL BABY.
HAAAAAAAAAAAAIL!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) [WP]
[Gossamer Wing] She is quiet for a moment, as she lets the words flow over her and sink in. If she were not in homid, her hackles would raise to hear Wahya suffers, and it takes a moment to calm enough to think it through. Murmuring softly to herself…
“What does Aife desire?”
The Cruelty realms, the Caliph of pain, the hand of the cruelty urge… “What do they want with Wahya, with us?”
Sometimes it’s the simple questions that get more info – she asks these, while the rest sort themselves out in her head….
[Hummingbird] “Duchy Aife desires a little one…
To school her dark arts to…
The Master seeks a vibrant one.
Touches the dreams of those she visits.
Man in suit.
Servant of the Master.
Offers deal to Uktena
Uktena must bring someone.
Uktena seeks a vibrant one.
Uktena protects hurt one.
Is deal the Master offers.”
[Gossamer Wing] She closes her eyes, listens and learns. She nods, then, a slight movement, barely there, so as not to disturb the frantic hummingbird.
“Who is the man in the suit, the servant? How do I find him?”
She takes a breath, slow and steady. Wahya made a deal – bring a vibrant one to protect the hurt one, they need a vibrant one to teach the dark arts too.. “Who is the hurt one Wahya protects?”
[Hummingbird] “Mah-ja.”
The hummingbird sways again,
It moves around her head,
It moves so fast.
Her eyes nearly cross watching.
It stops at her other ear,
Its wings tickle the outer shell.
“Dream of the well-dressed man.”
[Gossamer Wing] Mah-ja… she tips her head, and than vision clears. The one from the brotherhood – Maija, and to find the well dressed man, you dream of him. -Sounds like a 80s pop song in the making, doesn’t it? And every answer breeds more questions…..
“Has Wahya found the vibrant one? What do they wish for the vibrant one to do – or become?” And most importantly… “And how do we stop it from happening?”
[Hummingbird] “No.”
It hums.
“Dunno, become Master?”
It whirls.
“No answer.”
It sighs.
“Many have sought Master.
Many have failed.
Many want power.
Does not give easily.
Requires…”
The flutter of air
The battering wind,
…fades.
“a… vessel?”
[Gossamer Wing] Her head lift’s as the battering of wind fades, and she nods. “A vessel… do you know what purpose this vessel will serve?”
As the hummingbird pulls away, her smile is warm, her voice soft. “Thank you, friend. Tell Wahya we’re coming to his aid, as soon as we can.”