Difference between revisions of "Log:Rainbows and Harvestmen"

9 March, 2017

Two Gods have a confrontation, and the Harvestmen talk over their current problems.

Steepscrabble

It'd been raining in the waking world, although the same hasn't yet come true in the Hedge. The Hedge is always alive with the cacophony of flora and fauna going through their usual vicissitudes, but one thing seems even odder among the strange. A single soul stands upon the trod, gaze locked right on that fortifications in the sky above, although its damned difficult to even make it out in that sea of grey that moves by.

It's somewhere below aforementioned fortifications and upon the ground that a shimmering sort of portal appears. A doorway, as if from nothing. Not that such is very strange in the Hedge, all told. The doorway shows a glimpse of a Grecian colonnade and a collection of seats and small tables. Not all Grecian in design and some quite modern. From that doorway steps a petite sort of woman with dark skin that has a pearlescent quality to it; colors of the rainbow drifting to and fro across the surface. There's a similar quality to her hair, but the black of it makes it more akin to an oil slick. She has a sort of windblown look about her, despite the... lack of rain and storm here. Just yet. The doorway closes behind her and she sort of pats down the layers of clothing she wears -- blouse, silk-wrap skirt, and a number of pieces of jewelry -- while frowning. "What did..." Seems she's managed to miss even the rather large man.

Despite all the strange sights of the Hedge and the long life of the Ogre, Jonah still manages to be surprised when the door opens. Fists balled up until he sees the woman step forth, gaze narrowed as he looks her over. Converse to the color and vitality of Iris Jonah is rather dull, if not strange. Pupilless, white eyes are turned in her direction, the man's mantle giving him a faint aura of starlight to match the occasional twinkle seen here and there. The man's grey flesh is exposed to the elements and any examination aside from what's covered by a white tank top and jeans. He's rubbing at the base of his overlarge, spiny horns with one hand, the other idly hanging as he roars out, "Is that thing up their yours!?"

The woman's own mantle is the scent of ozone and the sense of calm before a storm. Something of //possibility//. It doesn't override, as some do, but just sort of... is. Supplements, if nothing else. Perhaps as a storm approaching in the night. Iris continues checking pockets that don't exist... until Jonah speaks. Roars. Really is loud to a point that the woman -- two full feet shorter than he -- jumps and looks his way. A slight shake of self and she looks upwards, as if she doesn't know what's up there. Oh, right. "Yes, yes it is. My temple."

Mention of a temple elicits a more stern glare from the Ogre, although it could easily be his natural disposition considering his appearance. He draws nearer, the light of his Mantle growing further the closer he nears the Dawn. "Temple, huh? What exactly are you worshiping all the way out here?"

There's a curious tilt of her head at those words. Iris doesn't seem very cowed. Which may be funny considering the closer he approaches, the more she has to look up. The woman blinks once, twice. "Why would I worship anyone? It's my home." The words are spoken a bit matter-of-fact, but also somewhat confused. "Even if I'm exiled, I still ought to have... something proper. People have not forgotten about me." Well, yes and no.

Her response only draws further scrutiny. Then, as if by some forlorn miracle something new happens. "What? You're not making any sense." He shakes his head, clearly confused. "What in the world do you mean, forgotten you. I can tell the what, but who are you?"

Though a faint look of offense crosses Iris' features, it dissipates quickly enough. As if she's become sadly used to not being recognized. There is, certainly, an air of resignation about her. "I am Iris. Messenger of the gods." There's a sort of sweeping, considering gaze for the tall -- too tall -- man. "Though you do not look like one of the usual followers of Olympus, so I suppose it is... understandable that you would not know me."

Jonah's undue scrutiny continues, gaze unblinking. "I don't deal with the Greeks. Never liked those stories." Beat. "Buncha fakes anyway. Gods walk the earth, and you're looking at one yourself." He thumbs at his chest, Mantle glowing with his pride. "Wibguigen", he states simply. "And since you're a messenger I'm gonna guess you work for another in the Pantheon." His brow quirks as he questions, "Right?"

"Fakes?!" Iris looks //quite// offended by this. "If you're talking fakes, you're talking the Romans. They took us and renamed most of us, acting as if it was theirs all along." Scoff. "You'd think they could just respect the originals. Well, they kept me at least..." Iris. Apollo. Two of the few who actually remained as-is when Rome took Greek's religion. She does look Jonah over, giving him a considering gaze. "I don't //work// for another. I can turn down a request. But it's as you'd go to Artemis if you want something properly hunted, you'd come to me if you wanted to ensure a message properly reached its destination." Beat, a few blinks. "Or rainbows. Those are mine, too."

A chuckle catches at the back of his throat when Iris responds, but it dies down quickly as she continues on. "Right, right. I'll make sure to remember, Skittles, but what'd you know about what the folks here believe? Not just the ones from the colonists and immigrants. The people who used to call this place home." His arms spread wide as if presenting the world. "I hate to tell ya this," he says whilst leaning forward, his expression smug. "They don't know Artemis from Diana, and I sure ain't gonna blame 'em."

Her response only draws further scrutiny. Then, as if by some forlorn miracle something new happens. "What? You're not making any sense." He shakes his head, clearly confused. "What in the world do you mean, forgotten you. I can tell the what, but who are you?"

Though a faint look of offense crosses Iris' features, it dissipates quickly enough. As if she's become sadly used to not being recognized. There is, certainly, an air of resignation about her. "I am Iris. Messenger of the gods." There's a sort of sweeping, considering gaze for the tall -- too tall -- man. "Though you do not look like one of the usual followers of Olympus, so I suppose it is... understandable that you would not know me."

Jonah's undue scrutiny continues, gaze unblinking. "I don't deal with the Greeks. Never liked those stories." Beat. "Buncha fakes anyway. Gods walk the earth, and you're looking at one yourself." He thumbs at his chest, Mantle glowing with his pride. "Wibguigen", he states simply. "And since you're a messenger I'm gonna guess you work for another in the Pantheon." His brow quirks as he questions, "Right?"

"Fakes?!" Iris looks //quite// offended by this. "If you're talking fakes, you're talking the Romans. They took us and renamed most of us, acting as if it was theirs all along." Scoff. "You'd think they could just respect the originals. Well, they kept me at least..." Iris. Apollo. Two of the few who actually remained as-is when Rome took Greek's religion. She does look Jonah over, giving him a considering gaze. "I don't //work// for another. I can turn down a request. But it's as you'd go to Artemis if you want something properly hunted, you'd come to me if you wanted to ensure a message properly reached its destination." Beat, a few blinks. "Or rainbows. Those are mine, too."

A chuckle catches at the back of his throat when Iris responds, but it dies down quickly as she continues on. "Right, right. I'll make sure to remember, Skittles, but what'd you know about what the folks here believe? Not just the ones from the colonists and immigrants. The people who used to call this place home." His arms spread wide as if presenting the world. "I hate to tell ya this," he says whilst leaning forward, his expression smug. "They don't know Artemis from Diana, and I sure ain't gonna blame 'em."

"There's nothing wrong with skittles. I find them quite flavorful." If you're exiled to live amongst humankind, might as well find the small pleasures in life. Iris brushes at the sari skirt she wears. "I believe they often ask to be understood. What is a message if not trying to convey something? So many people nowadays being misunderstood. They look to me for help."

"I find them and they find me." He smiles again, although its a fleeting thing. "The latter serendipitous, and the former need a nudge. Just a small push until they're eyes can truly be opened. Being misunderstood doesn't matter, though. What matters is understanding of everything, not just yourself. What good is insight when it's only pointed inward?" Jonah scoffs, "You may as well be blind."

There's a long stare for Jonah. The two -- the large ogre and the woman a full two feet shorter -- stand in... well, an open space not terribly far from the freehold. Above them, there is a temple. In the sky. Iris' mantle is fairly intense at the moment. Ozone, the calm before a storm, an her hair and clothes are windblown, the rainbow hues sliding across her skin. Agitation. "Being misunderstood leads to not understanding. One leads to the other and vice versa." She dos not scoff in turn, but does seem as if she might be preparing to go. Perhaps. She looks in various directions on the trod with a furrow brow. As if she can't quite remember //where// she's off to.

Jonah opposite the woman all grey skinned, and dressed as dully as usual in white tank top, jeans, and sans shoes. The Mantle of light wreathing his form contrasts this, and its brilliance is only accentuated further by the Dawn before him. "If one can't be sure of the world around them, what difference would it truly make?" he asks while cross his arms over his chest. "The microcosm doesn't matter without knowledge of the macrocosm. Nothing more, and nothing less. The rest of it is new age nonsense put up by kids."

Coming out of the Stoneheart is Beau, looking like he might have dozed off somewhere inside at some point. Not a totally uncommon occurance from him, especially when he feels the need to get away from some of his family members for a little peace and quiet. He does slow as he sees the two other Lost standing in the clearing, practically head to head. Luckily, their mantles don't bother him to much, parting around his own little sea of calm in the storm, as always with Dusks, notable in it's complete absence. "I'm not interrupting am I?"

Head to head... not so much. Perhaps in force of personality for that way the Pantheon makes one //more//. Iris is too short to be head to head with Jonah... or the approaching Beau. An average height for a woman by modern day standards, she is nigh smol in this particular gathering. The woman just stares at Jonah for a long moment. "Are you even aware of what you're saying? Or is it a contract, to just open one's mouth while nonsense spills out?" She might have offered more, but Beau provides a handy distraction for the forgetful Elemental. "If you are, I think it's a welcome one."

Jonah's attention is well set on Iris as Beau approaches. The Ogre's jaw is clenched tight, and he damned near growls his response, "I stand by what I say, and it's no fault of mine if you're blind to the truth of it." A grunt comes from his flared nostrils, but nothing else comes out until he looks over to Beaut with a sidelong glance. "Me and Skittles were just having a polite conversation," the lie of it obvious as he settles down at the sight of a familiar face. "You pass out in there, or come through a gate from your bedroom?"

"Captain." Beau nods his head slightly to Jonah, then looks at Iris. And blinks a few times. "Nah, decided to crash there last night. Got off shift late and decided this was easier than stumbling home." Beau shrugs as if it's no big deal. His eyes are still doing a quick back and forth between the two, trying to judge just how much tension is going on. Though he doesn't look overly worried with whatever conclusion he's coming to. "Like I said, a crash pad with a roof wouldn't be unwelcome." One corner of his mouth inches upwards revealing a few sharp teeth.

"Mmmm. I think truth is subjective, don't you? Step out of here into the mortal world and they won't see what you truly are." For all that Jonah is nearing a growl... the small, rainbow-hued woman does not seem bothered. The sense of wind and //possibility// around her is cut through by the sheer absence of such things that Beau represents. She looks to the other tall man, tilting her head slightly. "What happened to your roof?"

"That," Jonah says while thumbing in the direction of Stoneheart, "isn't the best of places for us. Especially the doors." He shakes his head, and starts rubbing at the base of his horns with his left hand. "It's why our lot are set on finding a better base of operations, and that's a bit more suitable and less populated." Beat. "And without roofs that leak. Actual roofs are are a given. I hope."

Beau crosses his arms over his chest as he looks back over his shoulder at the Stoneheart with a mild frown. "No, but it's mostly safe, at least." He stares at Iris in mild silence for a moment. "Next time you're in there look up. The roof is about as watertight as the Titanic." He stifles a yawn behind his hand, shaking himself a bit to wake up more fully. "And a decent hearth to warm the place."

"Oh." Iris blinks at Beau and looks past him to the Stoneheart. "I knew of its roof, but- why were you sleeping there? It always seems too noisy with all the hobs doing whatever it is they do." She shakes her head slightly, "Ought to find yourself a nice, quiet spot." Pause. "With a roof."

"That's a lot easier said than done. Unless you know a place like that." Jonah lifts up, and starts counting off, "It needs to be able house about twenty folks and any of their mounts if need be at any given time. Store god knows how many weapons, or how much armor; and has the stuff needed for anybody that can make 'em. Don't forget the roof. We did mention the roof, right? Also a place where we can train recruits without an audience of gawkers or trying to pass by in the middle of sparring session that took two hours to make space for." The last point is said with venom, but after clearing his throat Jonah's settled back down. "It'll also need to be free of any other residents or at least residents that won't try to kill us while we're inside."

Beau bobs his head at every point Jonah makes, though his expression does get less optimistic with each point. And considering he was already looking pretty much on the pessimistic side of neutral to begin with is quite a feat. Especially at the mention of interrupted sparring sessions. "One day someone is going to be waling through, not paying attention, and take a kick square to the face from an overenthusiastic Ogre with foot talons." There's a small sigh from the big man. "You forgot quick access to the freehold so we can mobilize quickly if need be." Beau returns his arms to their resting position across his chest.

"Do you want marble floors and gilded columns as well?" There's amusement, more than mockery in Iris' tone. "Honestly," the woman looks a bit thoughtful, staring off past the two tall Lost. "You may want to look for a warehouse in the mortal world. Plenty of space and usually in areas where there's no one to mind loud noises. Though the mounts.." She shrugs. "You ask for a lot."

Jonah's expression goes flat when Iris responds. "Skittles, if a Captain can't make sure the rest of his men and women have suitable quarters then he's not much of a captain. I don't expect a damned thing to fall into our laps, and if we can't find what we're looking for then we'll build it ourselves. And, Scales," he says with a look to Beau, "you're right. I completely forgot that, and it's something we'll have to setup. A way to easily get to the Freehold and to the normal side of things."

"Happy to help, Captain." Beau doesn't look happy, well, maybe a little, around the edges. "Perhaps a couple gates, two or three to critical parts of the hold." He jerks his thumb in the direction of the Stoneheart. "Maybe some sort of token to make sure only we can use them to keep any attacks out of our base of operations." Beau is rubbing his chin. "If it's even possible, I'm no tokenmaker."

It's a wee sort of woman that stands talking to two rather large and tall men. Up above, somewhere in the sky, a Grecian temple can be seen. And, well, the freehold nearby of course. Iris seems rather nonplussed at Jonah's reaction. She just clasps her hands before her, bracelets jingling. Her hair is left natural; curls surrounding her features, rainbow hues sliding across the black. Her dusky skin has a pearlescent sheen as if she were dusted with holo. Color color and more color yet. The breeze and sense of storm around her -- sense of possibility -- is muted by the Dusk dragon. "I think a Captain is much more than just grandiose housing, but I'm not a captain so maybe that is all you do. Personally, I would imagine that if there is truly nothing, then anything is an improvement, even if you must add to it over time rather than get everything you want all at once." Slim shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

Jonah was nodding along with Beau's suggestions, and even looked to be turning more positive. Then Iris speaks, and his ire is rising back up once more. His gaze slowly moves to Iris, and he simply stares. Between the push and pull of Dawn and Dusk his own Mantle of light has returned to its normal state of a smale aura, altough bits of it flare out due ot the owner's emotions. "If I expected to find it all at once I would've seen that by now, instead I've seen-" He bites his tongue before continuing further, shaking his head. "We'll see how things turn out."

Beau stares at Iris again. "I thought you Dawns were supposed to be the optimistic ones." It's a mildly dry comment as the dragon rolls his eyes and nods towards Jonah. "Might be something to ask the Custodians about, I'm sure they might know something to help with that." He tilts his head to the side in thought, then shakes his head at whatever random thing passed through his mind. "It'll be hard work, but we have a good group, they're up to it."

The ogre is disappointingly small compared to the other two men he comes across, but he's still over six feet. Thorn just looks dangerous. Very dangerous, even during a rare smile. Sharp lines, dried blood here and there, scars. He likes to think it makes up for the lack of towering height. The ogre walks up the path, moving amongst the scree along the winding trail with easy. Just marching along calmly until he reaches his destination. That would the Stoneheart. The heat that accompanies him, the smell of a hot and baking summer day fades yet he remains plenty warm as he comes across the trio and slows to approach. When he is close, he interrupts with his presence rather than any words. Same effect, perhaps slightly more polite? His hands move to clasp behind his back and he looks between the three Lost for a moment or two, silently observing with solid orange-red eyes.

"Optimistic," Iris offers to Beau, turning her attention on the draconic Dusk. Seems she considers her conversation with Jonah to be over. "Not stupid. If it were approached in... parts. Decide what's most important and obtain it first. Work backwards from there." Another shrug. "If we just got everything we wanted without the time or effort, how could we appreciate it?" For all that she's five-foot-three, the Elemental does not seem cowed by the gathering of those so much taller than she. The //possibility// of her mantle is drowned in parts by the negative space of Beau's. A push and pull of two rather strong in their court. She smooths her hands over the silken material of her skirt, turning away marginally. "I think I was going to find something to eat." The words are offered brightly, with the pleasure of having remembered why she'd stepped out of her hollow in the first place.

Jonah's face contorts in disbelief at Iris' revelation. His eyes narrow, and after a shake of his head he turns to greet the oncoming lieutenant with wave to come over. "I can't say I have much traction with them, but I'll try to speak to the Custodian-Elect asap. Won't hurt to talk to the Waykeepers, either. They usually know a few extra tricks, anyway." With that said he bows his head in greeting, "Afternoon, Thorn."

Beau simply rolls his eyes at Iris' comment. He seems more resigned to dealing with the Dawn than outright annoyed by it. "Well, I guess getting a little.. inter-freehold cooperating going might not be a bad thing. It'll make our job easier if the others don't keep intel from us." As Thorn approaches he offers the ogre a solemn nod. "Food doesn't sound to horrible right now to be honest."

Thorn greets Jonah with a curt nod and a brusque, "Jonah." his voice low and restrained. There's a long period of silence where it seems like he won't say anything further, but he eventually gets around to it. "How are you?" all the waiting for such a brief question. "Hello." this is to Beau, who nods. Having no idea what they're talking about, the ogre doesn't have anything say about it. There's no missing Jonah's annoyance and Beau's resignation, however. After another wait, he introduces himself, "Omar Thorn. You may call me Thorn." most things he says seem to come out short and sweet and to the point. Definitely a Summer courtier.

Maybe Iris is totally blind to the behaviors of the other two men. Or, more likely, she's a Dawn who sees no point dwelling on such things. When Beau responds to her mention of food, she brightens further. For Thorn, there is a nod. "A pleasure, Thorn. I am Iris." And then she's stepping aside, starting a walk for Stoneheart. Likely to see what the hobs have cooked up for the day.

As Iris leaves Jonah buries his face in his hands for a brief moment. He wraps one arm around his chest, then, and begins rubbing at the base of his horns with his free hand. After a sigh he says, "We were talking about our current housing problems within Stoneheart. Namely that it isn't big enough, nor simply right for us. Before that was just some nonsense I'm not gonna repeat. Kinda obvious when I think of saying it like that."

Beau casts the captain a commiserating glance, with a small sigh added in for extra measure. "Just based on the size of some of the... personalities in the Harvestmen anyways." His eyes do a quick slide across both Jonah and Thorn as if to prove the point. "We take up a lot of room." He bows his head and rubs the back of his neck. "But, it'll be nice to have something that's just ours."

When Jonah seems to need a moment to compose himself, Thorn waits patiently, hands still clasped behind his back, his expression placid. He doesn't have anywhere else to be. A nod is his initial response to what the captain says. "I haven't spent much time in there. Why isn't it right? The debris? It seems messy." when Beau offers his take, he nods a few times, "Fair enough. I don't need much space, though. Just a bunk." then he's got nothing much else to say. This is not unusual. Though he does greet Iris, nodding at her, "Hello, Iris. Enjoy your meal. Try not to get crowded out by personality while you are in there."

"If she gets crowded out it'd be a blessing. A huge one." Jonah lets out another rattled sigh, shaking his head. "But we've a meeting this weekend, before the big party on Sunday. Mainly to see what other solutions and problems that may arise from it. Also looking for potential recruits at that meet and greet, but I still need to speak with the host of it all. At least before Saturday, if I can."

Beau there's a bit of a smirk leveled to Thorn, "I just meant we seem to have more giants hanging around in the Harvestmen than average for the Freehold." He lets his arms drop to his sides, shoving his hands in his pockets. "If I see him I'll let him know you're looking for him. But as far as recruiting goes, we seem to be in a more solid position than other groups at least." That does bring something of a self-satisfied smug grin to Beau's face. He can't help it, he's fairest, it's like a requirement for him.

"I feel that I don't have the appropriate tactical awareness just yet. Threats to the Freehold, potential threats, projects, planned expeditions and so forth. This is partially my own fault, but also due to my newness in town. I feel there is danger here." he looks around briefly as if the danger he 'feels' were right around here. It's not. Thorn shifts his weight slightly, "So any guidance you may wish to offer on that front would be appreciated. I'm sure the meeting is an appropriate time. I also need to get a feel for the local Summer court. They will make natural recruits and I have served in numerous roles in other local courts. I have a reputation. A good one, I mean." when he's focused on a topic that he understands and is passionate about, Thorn clearly has a lot more to say. "My goal is to become Iron Adjutant or perhaps General and then the ferocity of the Court of Wrath can effectively be brought to bear in line with the Harvestmen and Freehold's mission." he nods then at Beau, "I see."

Despite the light that comes from Jonah's Mantle there's nary a bit of heat surrounding him. "I'll have to take your word for the Summers. The few I know are always for a fight, but not so much with any form of organization past pointing them at something to punch, stab, or kick." A rumble of a chuckle catches at the back of Jonah's throat, and he lifts his hands in faux innocence. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, obviously. And Thorn, if you've got more time I can brief you on the state of affairs at present. If not today, I'm easy enough to contact."

"I'd like to see more Dusks around. We've got good soldiers in our ranks, sadly, not many find their calling among the Court." Beau narrows his eyes, not at anyone in particular, just a mild annoyance at the aforementioned lack of Dusks around the Freehold. "Though you Summers aren't bad." There's that crooked grin again leveled at Thorn, a bit of a teasing jab in a flash of good humor from the dragon. He turns his attention back to Jonah. "I hope you don't mind captain, but I had a chance to speak with one of the guides. I asked him to send any possible recruits he finds our way. He seemed a little.. distracted though so I don't know how much we might get out of him."

The ogre smiles, just slightly and only for a moment, "With the appropriate application of force and discipline and the occasional offer of incentive, they can be formed into something useful. Focused rage is useful. Boundless wrath, not so much. Most can be taught. Some cannot." Thorn lifts his broad shoulders in a shrug. The man doesn't seem offended by Beau's light jab. He might not even understand it or realize it's a jab. He just nods. "You are a large tragedy away from more members I am sure." he replies seriously. "I do not think we will lack for soldiers. Perhaps we will lack for good soldier, but anyone with interest can be hammered into a useful weapon."

"I'll assume your power of prophecy's greater than mine. If shit at all hits the fan the blame'll fall on me, but it least that's where the blame'll end." Then to Beau Jonah turns, head slightly cant. "If it comes to be that it's a waste we'll find out when it happens. Worst case scenario your friend sends someone with a death wish our way." He shrugs then, and looks off to the distance. "It's about time I head out, though. That woman distracted me for far too long, and I probably missed the person I was supposed to meet."

"Dawns.." There's another shrug from Beau. A 'what're you going to do,' as he looks back in the direction that Iris went, tapping his foot. "But, it takes all types. I'm sure even she has her uses when it comes down to it." He turns back towards the other two men with a mild shrug. "True enough, I'm sure even Springs and Winters have some useful soldiers in their ranks." He inclines his head towards Jonah, another tap to his forehead in his own unique salute to the man. "See you later, captain."

"There will be attacks. There will be threats. People will die to mundane things after surviving however long in a place of death and disregard. You can't be blamed for that. No one person can." Thorn offers reassuringly, giving Jonah a nod. "I will go as well, then." another nod at Jonah and then one to Beau. "Good day." and that's that. Laconic once more, Thorn turns and begins striding right on down the path he worked so hard to march on up. He navigates the scree, occasionally walking, occasionally riding the small and unstable rocks down a few feet before catching himself again.