Difference between revisions of "Log:Wildflowers, Witches and Wings"

2017.07.30

Dawn breaks on a East Bank meadow, and some chance encounters lead to questions - but not many answers, as a Moon Ogress requests the latest local lore from an Autumn Darkling and Dawn Beast.

East Bank - Riverside Trail

It's darkish by the river: the dim, grey, slowly pinkening time before the sun comes up. A time when only the earliest of risers and those who never went to sleep are about. It rained recently and the water runs high and fast. Dross keeps an eye on it as he walks through the tall grass by the side of the river, searching for flowers to take back to Phoibos House and draw. He has a few stalks of something long and tipped with many frail white blossoms in one hand already. Easy enough to see where he goes, by the ripple of the grass behind him in the cold breeze that follows the Darkling around.

First light of dawn. The wilderness of Vermont? Practically pristine. Grass damp with rain, the cry of birds waking up, the scent of all those wildflowers as Dross walks... Moving along by the edge of the river, amongst the tall grasses there is a gnarled tree broken off at the top - but still about six or seven feet of trunk remain, with tall yellow yarrow and frilly white Queen Anne's Lace growing around it's gnarled bark.

Funny that. The patterns in the bark, they almost look like a face... Curved lines making wrinkles in the rough countenance; the curve of a mouth, the hollow of an eye...

And then the eyes in the tree blinks, right out at Dross.

With nary even a whisper, out steps Uschi from the very tree itself -- emerging barefoot into the wildflower grasses, hauling that oversized mountaineering rucksack of hers and looking every inch the Crust Lord of Moon that she is. No words, no sound - she just points at Dross, iridescent eyes glinting, shadow moving to let the dawn light glint on her teeth as she smiles at him. It's a hello!

That sheared off old tree is just the sort of tragic, Expressionistic outgrowth of the environment to catch Dross's eye. He comes right up to it, though the grass grows longer and longer nearer to the tree, leaving long streaks of dew on the legs of his dark trousers. He's leaning in for a good, hard look at the tree when Uschi pops out of the trunk like a seed pod exploding. Shower of Uschi!

Dross's eyebrows shoot up, but although close observation would likely reveal the extreme tension in the long, lean lines of his body, as perhaps through the slight tremor of that white shirt in the darkness, he holds his ground. There's a rumor or two that maybe Dross can't scream, and he doesn't now, but perhaps it's just as telling that it takes a moment or two for him to find his voice. When he does, he takes a step back to make room for Uschi to emerge onto the river bank, saying, "Hello, little bear." Little?

Out pops the Uschi! Indeed - and with the casual loping grace of someone who is entirely relaxed about the whole 'stepping out of a tree' thing. Maybe she does it all the time? But the ursine Ogress has a lopsided and almost snarl-like grin on her face as she observes Dross' reaction - it's hard to tell if it's unkind or not, but it's definitely amused. "Wells, lookie who it is," Her voice, as it was before, is rough and unstable, like walking over loose shale.

Eyes glimmer as Uschi presumably looks the Darkling over, licking a cuspid slowly as she absent mindedly scratches at the shoulder of her less-than-alive arm. "Dross, ain't it? What'choo doin' out here in this land? S'heard rumours 'bout this East Bank. Say nothin' good hangs round these parts." The wild flowers are eyed up, and Uschi leans forward so she can sniff the air around the Darkling. "What news you bringin'?"

One of those fine dark eyebrows stays up as Dross repeats: "Nothing good?" He hasn't heard anything like that. Maybe he could do with a warning? Lucky for Dross that Uschi is here. She seems prepared for anything! He eyes her up right back, his own eyes pale and almost colorless in the dim light, reflecting the thin cover of white mist that hangs over the river. As different as they are, he seems to like what he sees, for some of the tension in his face relaxes, and there even appears, slight as the mist, the suggestion of a smile about his lips.

Close up, there's the smell not just of the wildflowers Dross carries, but something else, next to the skin: a subtle whiff of resins, oakmoss, and myrrh. He doesn't seem to mind being sniffed. Thoughtfully, Dross drops his gaze to sort through the handful of flowers he's picked already. After a moment, he pulls a big, long-petaled, heavily spotted one out of the bunch and offers it to Uschi--a toad lily. That critical stare returns to Uschi's glittering smile. "Life studies," he answers.

It's high summer in Vermont, and the transition from night to day has all sorts of strange creatures meeting. Down on the banks of the river, are two Wyrd folk: Uschi and Dross, standing there by a gnarled tree stump, as the first long fingers of dawn start to stretch out through the mists, illuminating the wildflower meadow of the the riverside trail.

"Nothin' good." Uschi croaks back to Dross, her posture all lopsided as her dead arm hangs motionlessly at her side, while her ruddy right hand reaches up to scratch underneath the side of a blackened horn. There is a long spell of silence as the Ogress watches the Darkling's expression, then slowly turns to observe the wildflowers in his hand. They are contemplated -- either with great reverence, or dim understanding. Finally? She turns and points out at the meadow; with the crickets and the flowers and the bumblebees covered in dew. "Thas' life studies." Grubby fingers turn and point back at the flowers, then accepts the toad lily. It is contemplated for a few seconds longer, before she adds; "Thas' death studies."

Uschi is watching Dross' face now though, hunched forward a bit - every ragged breath sending puffs of condensation up in the cool air.

The weather is clear and twilight leads a very frumped looking figure from the trees where it seems she may have been communing with nature just a =little too hard=. The dim darkness receding seems to lead a strange female creature from the wood. Moving nigh silently parallel to the Riverside trail, following with her head uptilted, a very lightly luminescent pale slip of a figure drifts and dances its way along the uneven deer path. It's odd, because she moves silently and gracefully, right up until a root crops up in her path. And then she's gracefully tumbling along down a small incline towards a more beaten path to land in a pile of layered tiered skirts and fluffy strange patterned curls. Helpfully she adds an 'oof' as dust blows up around her when she does and dissipates into sparkles. It's despicably adorable. Disgustingly whimsical. There really should be laws..

The crumple of girl slowly gets up and dusts herself off, literally, grumbling to herself mildly as she does. Fussing critically over her layers and hair. Smoothing and tugging out twigs and dirt clods incessantly as she does. Oblivious to everything else for the moment.

The faint smile on Dross's face grows more pronounced when Uschi calls his collection of wildflowers death studies. In a quirk of translation, the same thing is known by both names, in different languages: still life or nature morte. The wind that blows by the side of the river picks up, plastering the open collar of Dross's shirt against his white throat and lifting the dark ends of his hair.

"Wise, aren't you," he says to Uschi. There's a note of surprising tenderness in that quiet voice as he searches for the light in those iridescent eyes through the shadow that hangs around her. Then comes the sound of another person approaching, and he turns a little, pulling the collection of wildflowers in close to his chest and looking for the source of those noises. The whoosh of an updrift of sparkling dust makes the Darkling's eyebrows creep right back up again.

Uschi stands there, nearly perfectly still and entirely looming, although even she has to tilt her head slightly to meet Dross' eye. The shadows of her Mantle creep about her subtly, like foliage from deciduous trees were rustling in the wind and blocking out moonlight. Her ruddy right hand raises, so she can twist the stem of the toad lily -- letting Dross' words linger there, unanswered as she stares at the flower petals. Is she smiling? Hard to tell...

But then suddenly, Uschi is moving: her stance getting a little broader as she hears rustling. Nose twitches, lips curl and... And her eyes glint as they turn and see a tiny puff of fussy girl try and de-crumple herself. Uschi looks entirely unfazed - although admittedly, she almost always does. "...Hey, youse there -- stranger." Yes, Uschi is calling out to Lulu - pointing the toad lily in her direction. "Whot news do youse bring?" So confident! Or possibly dim? Either way, Uschi ain't shy.

Fussing. Steady fussing, though she lifts a hand, one finger up bobbing as if to say one moment, over and over in an indecisive and silent indication for Uschi to wait a moment. She hasn't bothered to look up. Frustrated shuffling and liberal dusting occur for a good twenty more 'moments' before Lulu's hand drops and she finally looks up. "HEllooooy shit you're tall." She exclaims looking up, mouth dropping open staring openly at Uschi. "Wooow. Hello." She greets softly, like -she- might startle Uschi holding up her hands as if to show they're empty. They are, long fingered and her palms glow slightly.

Her dark eyes move from Uschi then to seek the figure next to her. Vanta black, matte darkness resides under ashen feathered lashes almost sucking the light from around them. It puts an eerie conflict to the whimsical cuteness she otherwise seems to wear almost like armor. "I come in peace." She adds, helpfully.

Uschi is tall? Dross glances at the Ogress out of the corners of his eyes when Lulu says this. O.K., perhaps it's true, though the difference in their heights likely isn't all that large. One of his own hands drifts out to brush whichever arm is nearer with the tips of his thin fingers. Hale or not, it makes little difference to him.

Looking down at little Lulu, Dross stares hard into the vacuum of those big black eyes. What's the secret of that light-absorbing darkness? He looks as if he'd like to know; and not soon, not whenever it's convenient, but immediately. "Who are you?" he asks. "Why have you come here?"

"Youse are small." Uschi's eloquent reply, barked back to Lulu after a few seconds consideration. The Ogress seems entirely fine with having to wait for the little Mothling to get her dust in order -- and also with her open staring. Bet let's face it; Uschi probably gets a whole range of less-than-polite looks as she goes about her day-to-day... Assuming that Uschi even sees other people on a daily basis. There is that whole feral, removed-from-society thing she's got going on. Looking at Lulu's hands, the Ogress snorts softly - a lips parting, a crooked tooth exposed.

The Uschi turns her head -- belatedly, she's realised that Dross has been stroking at her gnarled left arm. Does she not feel anything there? Little flakes of skin drift away from where the Darkling's finger's have made contact. The gesture has Uschi moving - not away from Dross, but subtly in front of him; almost as if she was positioning herself between Dross and Lulu. Could be protective, or out could be coincidence - because after the Autumn's words to Lulu, the Moon Ogress starts to chuckle as she speaks to him.

"Ain't dat the question of our times... Sniff 'er out, mang - she's jussa little slip goin' 'bout her business like youse or me." Uschi licks her lips, shaking her head slowly as she turns back to Lulu. "Youssa 'holder, or a drifter, or a somewhere in ba'tweener?" A grin spreads, and the Ogress lifts her chin a bit. "But if youse a on-the-other-siiiider..."

Lulu points up the hill, "I fell." She replies with a blink looking between them both. "I think. I fell." She rolls her head to the side and seems to consider then slowly nods, "Yes. I fell. That's why I'm here. But if you're asking why I'm like, here.. here?" She gestures and spins to indicate the great yonder, "Well, hopefully, someday I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be the first to know. Because you're the first to ask. I think… Well. Remind me to tell you." Despite the way she seems to mold into the conversation is contrary some to the slightly disoriented expression written across her face.

"No, I'm Lulu. Dainty." She explains surely with a single sage nod. "But not small." She tilts her head but nods towards Uschi. "Yes. Seeking the last of the rays of the moon. Too late now." She sighs and looks off towards the lightening horizon. "Always in between." Her expression goes oddly sorrowful for a moment, "But tethered for the moment, at least for a month or two. Oh.. yeah and my name is Lulu." Yes. Earlier she had introduces herself, but she seems not to have noticed. "Do I know your names?" Again, a genuine question. She doesn't =smell= like pot but who can tell with the curiously vapid blonde.

This little Mothling, the color of sea glass, with strips of white hair parsed like careful antenna in front of those black eyes, a potential threat? The thought doesn't bear entertaining. Except, perhaps, insofar as it seems to afford Uschi the amusement of preparing for a fight.

Dross peers past the hard wall of Uschi's shoulder at Lulu. Whatever he makes of her response, there's no direct answer from the Darkling, except, when she asks for their names, a curt, "Dross." He resettles the bale of wildflowers in his arms, a thick sheaf of bright leaves and white and gold blossoms, for the most part, with a few exceptions like the toad lilies or the odd bluet. Then he steps to the side, perhaps preparing to leave. "The river remembers the moonlight, I'm sure," he says, with a glance at the quicksilver rush of the water. After all, the sun is just now waking up. "Perhaps you can seek it there."

At Lulu's sad story, Uschi just stands there: immobile save for that raggedy breathing of hers. Is it part of the Wyrdiness of her form, or does she really need to go and see some kind of healer? That -arm- certainly makes it seem like Uschi needs attending to, medically speaking. There is no nod of comprehension or even acknowledgement as Lulu goes on about the big existential questions -- but Uschi doesn't seem bored, per se. She just seems... Like she's waiting for something.

Ah. Here it is.

After Lulu and Dross' exchange, the Ogress side-steps a bit to give the Darkling a little more space -- emitting a wet 'tisk tisk' noise as she shakes her head. Seems like somebody doesn't agree. "Whose needs no river remembrance? Nah friends," A beat, then Uschi seems to practice the words before speaking out loud again, "...Dross, Lulu: if youse are lookin' for the moon, I can bring it to youse inna few quick beats of yer 'earts." Uschi's lips twist, and she looks slowly from Lulu to Dross and back again.

The toad lily in her hand begins to twist, as Uschi twirls the stem slowly between her ruddy fingers. "All youse gotta do for me?... Wells, a few frootz would be nice -- but moreso? Lemme know where it is an' whos I gotta talk to in these parts, tah get word with the Hedge Witch In Charge." Last bit is say Oh So Carefully, then there are glitter in that shadow around her mouth: the Ogress is grinning wide. There are a lot of teeth, and even more confidence as she croaks; "An' I'll make youse wish come true."

Lulu's head tilts and she considers Uschi quietly her lips pursing thoughtfully causing a puckish expression across the moon moths soft features. She considers both, Dross and Uschi for a long moment before her lashes dip and she sighs. "Alas, I know better than to make deals with witches before one knows what they entail. I've read to many fairy tales." Her expression, though distant is cheeky for a moment before she looks back to Dross and her head cants a little more before turning back to Uschi and something slowly seems to dawn on her and she steps back and looks moritified. Caught for a moment in whatever conclusion her fluffy little mind has brought her too and she shifts her weight a few times. "I have interupted." She frets for a moment again and looks around for a moment at her feet seeking out the path. "I'm so sorry, please don't let me stop you." She tells Uschi and looks like she's about to be on her way but she pauses and looks back. "Was it going to be messy? Can I watch?"

When Lulu makes to leave, Dross takes a few quick strides after her, easily overtaking the petite moth. He reaches out to settle a light hand on her shoulder. "No interruption," he tells her.

The Darkling turns to look back at Uschi. Between Lulu and himself, perhaps Lulu is the wiser, for he considers her offer at some length. The breeze whips the mist from the river into a fine spray of water as the sun rises slowly up into the sky, turning the thin, cool morning air inexorably warmer. He looks hard at the Moon Ogress: blue eyes fixed on the faraway sheen of Uschi's, searching for something.

At long last, Dross splays one long-fingered hand over his heart, as if to indicate that he, himself, might be able to answer her question. Then he lets it fall. "Until we next see each other," he says to Lulu and Uschi, glancing quickly from one to the other. Then he heads off, fast, toward the bridge to the other side of the river, back to wherever it was that he came from.

"Buh, whot's up wiff all youse folk readin' all the time? Like anythin' /real/ e'ver came /outta/ a book 'steada bein' put /in/ there from tha' other side..." So curiously anti-books. Uschi's composure has been shook! Okay, not really: but she seems disappointed and a touch defensive, shaking her head slowly and sadly as the toad lily is lifted, sniffed at gently. "Youse two don't wanna feel the moonlight on yer waxy skins, true darkness caressin' them pretty lil' floofy brow o' yers? Thas yer choice. Imma save my efforts fer them whose'r more... More... Wassa word..." Uschi's dead arm swings penduliously as she rocks back and forth, snapping the fingers of her good hand, lily bobbing all over the place. "Deservin' an respectful!"

Oh my. Is that a touch o' hurt in the Ogress' voice?... No. Not really. Maybe a single drop in an ocean of indifference.

Eyes glint as Uschi watches Dross' hasty retreat, although there's something close to a smile on her shadowed mouth. "...Mmmm..." Long pause for contemplation. What on /earth/ could she be thinking about, in regards to that skinny Darkling? From the way those shadows crawl on her features, probably something filthy.

Then a sudden movement: Uschi has turned, squared her shoulders so she can face the little Moth and stare directly at her in... near silence. There's just that heavy breath, condensation mingling with the dawn mists.

Lulu looks to Uschi, "because books are where people disguise their knowledge as prose." She explains simply with a cant of her head. "The dead cannot speak to just anyone, and the living often mess up the deads words. So I read." She replies before tilting her head, "I will not tell you where I want the moons caress." Is she.. Oh yes. She's blushing. It's goddamned adorable.

And then, she's touched and s shiver travels through her and she darts, quick as a flit before he's gone and she turns while watching Dross go and her eyes get wide and she sighs, "Oh dear. Well,I don't suppose it would be too much to hope you're not going to expect me in his place?" She sighs a bit with a look towards the direction of the city. Regret filled. "Damnit, I think I had plans."

"Disguise bein' the key word there, Lou. Who writes them words? Them who'd wanna keep youse inna thinkin' mans prison, d'ja get me? Locked inna library, so youse ain't out there inna world, makin' a /real/ difference, learnin' new things they ain't wanna get youse knowin'..." Uschi is apparently in a chatty mood now - maybe it takes a while for the Farwalker to get back into the swing of things. She certainly seems to take her time doing, er, just about everything. She takes a few paces back, so she can slump up against the gnarled tree-stump, dead arm swinging as she pats her battle jacket down for something or another.

Not nice, but patient - Uschi's mouth widens as she watches Lulu, a low raspy chucka-chucka-chucka noise emitting from her throat. Oh sweet Wyrd -- is that a /laugh/? Yes, like a patch of rocks tumbling down a hill, it's a gravelly chuckle. It just grows and grows, as Uschi observes Lulu, slowly shaking her head.

Eventually? A battered butt end of a blunt is produced. It's lit up with a half crushed zippo that stinks of flammable fluid. "...Whus kinda plans youse tryin' to make, fallin' outta trees inna East Bank? Dun'cha read the signs of the times? Ain't youse 'ware dis place ain't nothin' but trouble for a lil' squishy softy all tarted up inna lace?... Damn girl -- how youse get Lost inna first place?" Oh. Real witty, Uschi. The blunt roach is puffed on, then held out --- all hospitable like.

Lulu smiles a little, "I'm far from caged by any mans thoughts. No man has ever thought me into a cage I could not think myself out of." She holds out her arms, "For here I am." She points at her feet and then folds her arms again. "As for what I learn it doesn't blong to me. It belongs to the Moon, she takes it an gives me thoughts on her whim." She explains and lifts shoulder, "Truely the more significant a thing I tend to forget it the fastest."

"I don't recall precisely but I believe it was walking in the woods. All the significant events in my life have occured that way." She says assuredly her head tilting and she smooths her hands across herself and floofs her skirts and hair, making ehrself look big as it were, and draws herself up to a laughable full five foot one inch tall and then eyes the joint and her nose twitches a little before she reaches out to take it. Bad Lulu. You know better than to take candy from witches! She does in fact, mouth this to herself but it's too late she's taking a hit. "Groooovey, thanks."

Uschi listens to Lulu with the gently slack-jawed expression of skeptical almost-understanding. Once or twice she licks her teeth and swallows, battling cotton mouth perhaps, but never does she interrupt. It's only the mention of the Moon that has the Ogress grinning a bit -- giving Lulu a once-over once more. Perhaps her original assessment is changing. Perhaps she's just hungry.

"...Yea." Uschi nods eventually at the mention of the woods, drawing on that blunt once more before it's handed over. It... Smells skunky as fuck and is a bit damp. Enjoy, Lulu. "Woods gotta way of bein' like that. Sag-niffa-cent, like youse said." The Ogress turns, and indicates to the dark woods on the farside of of the riverside meadow with a tilt of a blackened horn. "This ain't my usual patch, Imma just on... Recon. Imma looking for whoever's in charge 'round these parts. So far? All I knows it Shame Reigns, and nobody wants ta fuckin' hook a sister up, d'ja get me? Ya'd think I got something in my teeth, way people 'voidin' me! Even my own Court n' kin!"

More gravelly laughter, and Uschi is tilting her head back to knock a horn against the bark of the dead tree, as if to emphasis. Like that isolation and disregard is something to be worn as a badge of honour -- a prize, however grim, for Moon.

Lulu is fresh outa Phis concerts for days so, whatever man. Likewise, good luck to you, witchypoo. Goddamned Hippies. "I can help you with weed." She says cheerfully. "Hmm, if you have a phone? I do.. at home. I forgot to take it with me. But I wrote myself a note." She explains her thought process to it's logical conclusion. Probably to make sure that she rememebrs what she's doing, repetition and assurance of a plan. Get home. Find phone. "The wayhouse, is where you need to go, either for Shame or Acknowledgement, whatever your pleasure." She lifts a shoulder thoughtfully. "To be frank you'd think I'd remember by now, as many times as I think I've met the Waykeepers. They always seem to remember me but I can never tell who they are until they say so." She lifts a hand and swirls her fingers around her face, "All look the same to me. Stern." Her face mimics the expression. "So stern."

The weed thing has Uschi looking mighty intrigued -- but phones?! She curls her lip and shakes her head, then uses that freshly cut toad lily to gesture to herself: the myriad of patches and rough embroidery and leather and denim and bits of actual teeth that construct her Crust Lord vestments and cover that battered mountaineering bag of hers. Look, she's not even wearing any -shoes-.

So by the time Lulu mentions the Waykeepers, Uschi scowls a bit. Shame? Not her game. Sun can go shove it where it ain't shining, for all that look says.

But there's amusement there in Uschi's face, and a touch of gratitude and - get this! - sympathy as Lulu gets all frank and open with her. A gravelly chuckle, then a firm nod. "Real insightful, Lou. Much 'prechiated... An if I gotta call youse, I'll whisper onna wind." Then there's a little glint in her eye, as Uschi's good arm reaches out - fingers aiming towards Lulu's hair. "Youse sayin' ya wanna get in contact?..."

"Well if you want weed..." She notices. She's not as vacant asshe seems and it is, indeed, like stroking a moth. There's a flinch and Lu's eyes widen and her nostrils flare a little. She steps back a few extra steps in an almost dance and stands in place and trembles. The little Dawn's mantle in flux for a moment before righting itself to a strange 'caught a breath' moment of near panic. But Uschi has acheived her goal of taking a few strands of strangely colored satiny soft hair, though the moonlight drains out of it when it's out fo the whimsical creatures light. "I agree, whisper when you like. I owe you, just the one though, I give you one and then no more. I know the rules and I will not be taken advantage of. If you want another you'll have to pay like anyone else." What? What is she even on about now.

Her head tilts, "I should be on my way. I have a long ay to go before I get home." She waves off any more offers of the roach and she sways for a moment, "Well. Bye Witch." And then, poof, in all that dust a tiny moth flutters off into the darkness.

Uschi's dingy fingers twist around a few errand strands of hair -- two, possibly four they're so fine -- and with a little twist, they're plucked from Lulu's head just like so. Hand drawn back, Uschi holds them in the dawn light -- admiring the soft, downy glow. Lulu's panic? Ignored or overlooked. Uschi is merely nodding slowly - moving to hold the toad lily in her teeth, so she can start one-handedly weaving the hair through her fingers, twisting it into a neat little bundle to save for later.

"Youse'll be hearin' from me then, Lou. I keep my promises an' pay my dues..." Uschi smile grows wider in the gloom of her shadowed face, a glint of eyeshine as her head tilts -- hair pocketed in her battle vest, taking the blunt back as she watches Lulu say her g'byes. "But whose said anythin' 'bout no rules? Baby, Imma An-ar-chist."

Then there's nothing but a rough tumble of laughter croaking out from Uschi's throat -- as she takes back the joint and watches Lulu transform into her mothy self, and depart. Once alone, the Ogress leans back against the tree and starts observing dawn break, muttering under her breath to the wilderness around her, "...Lady bug, lady bug, fly aways home..."