Log:A Change Meeting

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A Change Meeting

Did that just happen?

Participants

Obsaw, Morgan, Sorrel

7 May, 2016


Two newly arrived Changelings meet another visitor to Fort Brunsett.

Location

Lake Brunsett - Lakeshore


The remnants of the sun's long departure still shine over the horizon in colors of amber and gold. It's still cold despite the present time of the year, and there's nary a hint of it truly being Spring to be found about the place. Just a single boat can be seen on teh lake while a handful of people can be seen swimming on the opposite side of the lake.

Sorrel's easily found out there as he messes about near the lake. With a thick jacket, jeans, and a beanie it doesn't look like he's game for any form of swimming. However and oddly enough, he is barefoot. In one hand he holds his cellphone while occasionally tapping at the screen with his thumb, and in the other a small, bronze astrolabe he keeps adjusting.

Obsaw had parked his truck a few miles out of town on a little side road, covered from view of the main road with heavy foliage. Whenever he moved to a new location, he usually decided to scope the place out on his Enduro rather than try to drudge his way through unfamiliar streets. It gave him a feeling of freedom, more so than usual. A choice in the matter, rather than a rigid plan. A quick tour of the place would help him adjust to new surroundings better, since the Web page was pretty scarce.

Seeing the natural beauty of the landscape in the distance, approaching quickly to the lake, Obsaw decided to make use of the freedom to stop and take a few moments to admire the scenery before vlogging it for his channel. He took his bike off the road and through the trees till at last, he killed the engine and dropped the kickstand. Obsaw was wearing his motorcycle gear, and popping the brain bucket off his head and stowing it on the handlebars. It was only as he dismounted that he noticed another was present nearby. He gave a friendly wave, before whipping out his cellphone and snapping a few selfies with the lake in the background.

She can be witnessed first at the edge of the trees, should one know the right place to look. At the trunk of a particularly hearty oak, where the boughs are heavy with spring growth and the shadows grow thick in the sun's setting light. Morgan is in layers of clothing, few of which properly match. The blacks that are differing shades and the faded red of a moth-eaten sweater are barely visible beneath a navy blue woolen coat as she just sort of hovers for a long moment or two. She's watching Sorrel through heavily-lidded dark eyes, hands deep in her pockets, but a phone finally surfaces from in them. She stares at it, frowning, as if baffled by the thing. It's shoved away without doing much to or with the devices itself before the woman surfaces. Unlike the one she moves towards, the Darkling is not barefoot. She wears worn, but cared for hiking boots that take the ground in a careful, mindful fashion.

Once she is near Sorrel, she pulls the phone out and holds it out towards him. "It broke again." The battery died. Which in Morgan's world means it's broken. But it would be why she didn't reply to any messages he may have sent... which means she was just following him.

...again.

He doesn't quite catch the wave at first, although the picture taking does. It only takes a second to recall what was just in the corner of his eye, and then Sorrel hastily steps aside to avoid the bombing of Obsaw's photos. "It's not-" He cuts himself off to let out a tired sigh. "Maybe we can see if he can help." Sorrel heads over to Obsaw, and offers a few polite taps at the taller man's shoulder. "'Scuse me, sir. I don't really know how motorcycles work, but can you use it to give us a jump?" The request comes with a wide smile as he shows away both items he once held in his hands, and shoves them deep into the pockets of his jacket.

Obsaw, after having taken a number of pics, stuffed his phone into his pocket. With the setting before him, he wanted to enjoy it for himself rather than waste it on the recordings for his channel. Surprise, mild, took him though when another person made her way towards the barefoot man. It was still pretty chilly to not be wearing anything on one's feet, but Obsaw wouldn't judge. He turned to take the keys out of his bike, so he could walk over to the locals and say hello, maybe get a head start on learning about his new, temporary home. If anything, he could glean some facts about the lake and use that for his intro. It was to his surprise once more when the man actually came up to him.

"A jump?" Obsaw replied, a brow raised. "Y'all stuck or something?"

"The light no longer comes on." That means it's broken. Morgan just stares at Sorrel, in spite of the sigh. There's a bit of frustration in her mien, but not for him. For the device, maybe, but he's already moving on towards Obsaw and she can either stay in place or follow. For a good moment or more, it seems like the Darkling may do just that. She looks... practically homeless, really. Those layers of clothing and nearly gaunt as she is. What with the shadows that cling to her, it's hard to tell, but her hair doesn't look like its seen a comb in some time. She stars at Obsaw warily before finally moving slowly after Sorrel to stand a few inches behind the Elemental's shoulder.

Sorrel flashes a wry smile in response, although he does shoot an askance glance Morgan's way for a beat. "Something like that, yeah. We got a truck, but it seems the battery might've died. It's just been a long drive all the way up here, and that thing," he says while thumbing a ways off, "isn't exactly the newest model." The exact details of it are a green, flatbed truck, and something way past its prime and only of use because of a likely cheap, initial purchase. "Oh, but where are my manners!" He then extends a calloused hand to Obsaw, still wearing that smile. "I'm Sorrel, and she's," he pauses with a nod in Morgan's direction, "is Morgan."

Obsaw leaned over slightly, peering over the man's shoulder at the homeless looking woman. She gave off kind of a weird vibe, but then again, with what Obsaw has seen, that's become more or less par for the course. He turned fully, facing the man before him once more. "Aight, so I gotta ask this. No offence or nothing, but Y'all ain't gonna like, axe murder me or nothing are ya? Cause I can't help ya if ya gonna pull that on me. I seen enough horror flicks to know that this right here is the perfect intro for that kinda shit." Obsaw was kidding of course, but his face remained relatively stoic, making it hard to tell. He gave them a moment to let that soak in. "Jokes aside, I might be able to jump ya if you got some cables. Name's Obsaw...like, job but without the J, and saw, like the thing used to cut wood." The explanation was usually a necessity. He extended his own hand and shook Sorrel's, exhibiting a strong, solid grip.

Maybe she's just one of those hipster types who takes it a step too far. Refuses to shop anywhere //but// Goodwill. But Morgan also doesn't have a 'mom and dad's credit card' vibe to her and out here, there's a few 'off the grid' types as well. Perhaps she's one of those. A few of the clothes do have hand-sewn patches on them. At least she's quiet. There's no... specifically violent behaviors to her. When Obsaw asks it directly, she even gives a sort of scoff, looking sidelong at Sorrel. The woman opens her mouth as if to speak, but then looks to the man she stands by again. As if pre-empting something h might say to her. Instead, she lets out a sigh. "Pleasure to meet you." The words come out careful, measured. As if she's been schooled into saying them before.

Obsaw's question elicits a peal of laughter, and Sorrel grabbing at his midsection. "Oh God, no. If this were a horror movie I'm afraid I'm likely the first one to die." He has to cover his mouth to stop from laughing, but when he does he's still wearing a shit-eating grin. Sorrel has to silently mouth Obsaw's name a few times to try it out, but once day gives an agreeable nod. "We're not really from around here, and just getting to know a few of the natural places for a while before heading into town proper."

"What a coincidence! I am as well. I thought you two were locals, so I was gonna play the tourist and ask a bunch of questions. Nice to hear we ain't starring in a slasher flick though." He glanced towards Morgan once more, giving her a curt nod. "I'll hop back on my bike here and wheel on over to your truck." Obsaw said, doing just that, making his way over to their dead beater. "So, what brought Y'all to such a lovely little hamlet like this?"

The fact that Sorrel laughs leaves Morgan looking mildly offended. She shoves her hands in her pockets and just sort of stands there. Isn't it usually the male of a pairing playing the mildly disapproving part? In this case, it's the female. While he goes on explaining and being social, she's looking off into the distance. Towards the trees, perhaps. When the question of what's brought them all there comes up, she looks back over. First to Obsaw, then to Sorrel. Her brow furrows as she goes searching for an answer and perhaps it takes her too long, but finally she settles on: "...Sorrel thought it was nice."

Sorrel nods in agreement to Morgan's answer, and adds, "I'm also looking for a couple of friends. One's really easy to miss, and the other stands out like a fire whirl on a lake." He then turns off to start walking towards his truck along with the other two. "What about you? I can't say I heard anything about motorcycle clubs or the like here, but ya never know." Beat. "I know I don't."

Obsaw nodded to the pair. "Looking for friends hey? I can't say I've seen others sides yourselves. I can see why you'd wanna move here though, the place seems like an oasis in a concrete jungle." It was then Obsaw's turn to laugh. "Nah, I just use this to get around quickly on the ground. See, I was thinking of signing up with the local Rangers here, and one of these might come in handy." He distinctly didn't mention his big rig or its cargo parked a ways away, just in case. One with keen perception might pick up on his careful wording in casual form, but there were otherwise no real hints.

Once they start moving, Morgan falls into stride. She keeps pace with Sorrel's shoulder and it comes with the ease of someone familiar with it. Like she's been doing so for long enough that she's used to his stride- even if he's a good handful of inches taller than she is. When Obsaw mentions signing up with the local Rangers, her attention does cut in his direction. Perhaps just a bit keener, briefly, though she doesn't say anything. Just watching him a bit more closely.

"Oh yeah? That's pretty damned awesome." Sorrel motions toward Morgan then, smiling. "Morgan's into the same kinda stuff, herself. Nature, finding yourself out in the outdoors, and just understanding the wildlife. I can't say it all makes sense to me, but it's not supposed to, really." He then bumps his shoulder into hers as if it'll draw her from her usual silence. "Isn't that right?"

Obsaw shrugged as he leaned his bike on its kickstand in front of the truck. "So you might say. From what I hear though, it's not exactly the most glamorous job. I like the search and rescue bit, but man, I heard some freaky stories. You ever read that NoSleep shit? Mysterious child abductions and strange creature sightings? Makes a person want to reconsider some days." Throw in a hook, see if the fishes bite. Obsaw /was/ there for a very specific reason, and joining the Rangers was only a means to an end...hopefully the end of his very own real life creepy pasta. "So, you got them cables or what bruh?"

"People see strange things in the dark." That's all Morgan has to say after a moment, once they've arrived at the truck. She moves over to sit on the edge of the bumper. "Usually accounted to fear, or lack of sleep. Sometimes having eaten the wrong thing. Poisonous berries or something they're just not used to." Maybe she's talking too much. Or this is something she actually knows a bit about. The woman leans forward, fussing at the lacing on her boots a bit.

"NoSleep? Sounds like a drug or something like that, but can't say I have." Sorrel pauses, idly tapping at his chin briefly. "I don't know. I think I'd like to see those strange types of creatures. Who knows what kinda story they might tell. But, most of my trouble out in the woods has been the type M's talking about. Lost, eating the wrong thing, and winding up without a clue in the world." When they reach the truck Sorrel heads to the passenger seat, and after a bit of fussing with something he's popped the hood. He comes back out with the jumper cables while sporting a crooked smile. "I know I gotta hook it up to my battery, but the last guy that helped us did most of the work so it's kind of a mystery."

Obsaw looked over to Morgan, a curious gleam in his eyes. That was a very distinct shift in her attitude, but he wasn't going to say anything yet, since they just met. "Mhmm. It's too bad that people still go missing though, especially with all the resources available to us nowadays. Hell, early explorers didn't have much and they could still find their ways home." Mostly. Obsaw took the cables and waved the pair over to the innards of the machine. "Aight, simple stuff. Red is positive, black is negative, and you just colour coordinate." He continued to explain the process as he followed through. "So, your two friends, they good on their own? I'd hate to have my first case being to find them while on duty...or find them as a NoSleep story. they're like, short stories on the net made to scare you. Fun stuff."

Though Morgan does follow when waved over, she watches as if she has absolutely no idea what Obsaw is talking about. Color coordinating aside. When he talks about 'short stories on the net,' she looks over to Sorrel and leans in to murmur something under her breath to him. There's something questioning in her tone. "I don't think his friends are lost," she adds, finally. "...and people go missing. Planes crash and go missing. The world is... a strange place. Mother nature takes back for what we take, perhaps. Or maybe the world is bigger than we assume."

Morgan whispers "I forget. What is...the net, again?"

Sorrel follows along as directed and pulls his cellphone again. He taps at the screen a couple of times before flashing something to her. If Obsaw peeks over he'll see a picture of a cat in front of a computer screen that's being shown to Morgan. He then shoots a quick glare towards Morgan, the first time he's at all looked serious today. "You don't have to go around trying to scare everbody," the Spring says to an Autumn. "Well, Rorschach's not the type to really go wandering around the woods, at least as far as I know." A beat follows, brow furrowing once more. "Cynthia's another story. She's a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and in turn wraped in a riddle. All of this is also inside a bear and the bear is on fire."

The words she spoke, while obviously sounding like they were some form of cryptic advice from a bog hag, resonated well with Obsaw. "Yeah. Bigger." Obsaw said, almost as an afterthought. Ever since his first encounter in Brazil, he knew the world was much bigger than it should be. The thing that scared him the most though, was that he knew he still had no idea truly how big the world was, and he needed to dig deeper to save himself.

Obsaw looked up and shook his head. "Naw, ain't nothing wrong with what she said. Either way, I hope Y'all get reunited. This boost will take about five...which means we got a few to chat. Whatchu hoping to do once you're settled

After staring at the cat photo for a long moment, Morgan suddenly gives a nod of understanding. "Got it." For now. Maybe. She'll probably forget again at some point. For the chiding, she just gives a bit of a shrug, smiling at Sorrel. It's not really a... chipper smile, but more of a tolerant one. She lifts a hand to pat him lightly on the shoulder. "Just doing my job." She looks back to the cables, tilting her head slightly. "We hope to..." but she seems at a loss for words, eyes sliding towards the other man, in a mute plea for help.

And Obsaw agrees with Morgan. This leaves Sorrel to rub over his eyes and forehead while letting out a tired sigh. "Please. Don't encourage her." Fat lot of good it'll mean, though, when she smiles at him. Now, he's the one left with a dour look on his face as he turns to look back at the car battery. "I'm wanting to see if I can get access to a decent enough garden, but I'm really a day laboror by trade. Whatever needs doing and can pay me is my speed. The main thing is meeting back up with Cynthina to chall-" He cuts himself off hand briefly going to his mouth. "I mean, to talk about business. Mostly about metal stuff and to see what she's got."

Obsaw looked between the pair of oddballs. "Riiiight." He turned to lean on the hood. "Anyway, ain't nothing wrong with labour. Better than office work, that's for sure. You a welder then?"

"I teach lessons sometimes. How to track, build shelters... Survival stuff, really. Seems really popular these days." Morgan gives a brief shrug, shifting her coat slightly. She tugs absently at a sleeve, fussing at a few loose strands on the cuff before tilting to worry at the shoulder. She frowns, before shrugging out of it. The sweater is a bit more threadbare beneath. Likely needing replacing soon. The shoulder of the coat? About to come out of place. She's turning it out and sighing to herself, mumbling about being nearly out of thread.

"I technically do all kinds of things, really. Cynthia and I go way back. I wanna say by about..." Sorrel stops his musings to reach over, and tug at Morgan's sleeve. The act only makes matter worse and causes him to frown. "Ah fuck. We really gotta go to the city asap to get you a new jacket." He offers a nervous smile to Morgan, and then turns back to Obsaw. "But I can do metalworking easy. I actually like working with it too, and I can't /wait/ to do so again."

Obsaw's eyes narrowed a bit, looking between the two. Yep. Verified weirdos. "You'd be surprised at how useful that Survival stuff can really be. Both of your lines of work, actually." He'd stick with the survival buff first, of course. "Looks like we almost done though. Wanna fire this bitch up and see if she got juice?" Obsaw asked, patting the truck.

And then her sleeve is completely useless and Morgan just looks at it in a forlorn sort of way. She holds the coat like one might the carcass of a dead thing. She looks from it to Sorrel then back to it. "...but I don't want a new one." And if Obsaw didn't think they were strange enough already, a creature wings in from the trees. It comes in low, at first, but the woman is soon extending her arm for the tawny owl to land upon. She leans a bit with its weight, but bears it with the ease of someone used to it. Her features soften with fondness once he lands. "Beag," she murmurs, with a sort of brogue to her tone. "Eaten already have you?"

"Will do," Sorrel exclaims while heading over to the driver's side. He pops open the door, and disappears inside for the time being. The first crank of the engins ends with a sputter. After a few more tries the engines roaring, and Sorrel's happiness is difficult to mix. He hops back out with a wide smile, and for whatever reason an intense aroma of roses. "I really appreciate this, man. If there's anything I can do for you, just lemme know." Then he turns to Morgan, smile fading away. "It's cold," says the man walking around barefoot. "If not tonight we'll get you a new one first thing in the morning."

Yeah, that was some shit a person don't see everyday, and Obsaw had /Seen/ some shit. He simply stared at the bird, and then stared at Morgan. Blinking. He then turned to Sorrel. "Did that just happen?" He said, even as Obsaw handed the cables to Sorrel. He shook his head. "Nevermind. I'll catch you both later though, gotta make myself known. Maybe I'll cash in that favour for a coffee the next time we meet." He said, mounting his bike. "Till then, stay safe, aight?"

And Morgan isn't even apologetic. She just looks to Sorrel, then back to Obsaw. "This is Beag," she offers, by way of introduction. That's what you do, right? It's polite. She strokes at a few of the owl's feathers, moving her coat to her other arm so it can drape over her elbow. It's a sort of careful method of balance because the thin woman doesn't look like she can handle all that much weight, all told. When the truck comes to life, there is a hint of relief... even if it fades away as Sorrel insists they go to town. Sh does gives a small nod to Obsaw. "We will be safe, of course. You, as well."

"Did what just happen?" Sorrel asks with a tilt of his head. Without even having to get an exact answer he turns to Morgan because it /has/ to be something he did. He sees the owl on her arm, and simply shrugs. It's nothing too strange for him, at least. "My number's 214-555-1516. Just gimme a call whenever you need something, and I can help I will."

Obsaw nodded, listening to the number and automatically memorizing it without the help of a pen and paper. "fo sho." He said, putting his helmet back on, waving, and saying his goodbyes to all present, beag included. With a flick of his wrist, he sped off into tears distance.