Difference between revisions of "Log:Ensorcelling Family"

18 June, 2018

The cat's outta the bag.

Southern Lakeshore

The rest of the night and well into the morning, Velvet slept. It was fitful, and probably not that fun for Weaver with her tossing and throwing of hands in her sleep. Especially since they fell asleep on the couch. By the time she wakes up, she looks dishevelled and still not at all like herself. She's in boxers and had pulled on a tank top to hide the wounds across her stomach. But the bulk of the guaze over it is still noticable. A massive pot of coffee has been brewed, and the woman is currently downing a cup, with another one settled in front of her, just waiting.

Olivia got SOME sleep, but there was plenty of weird going on that she didn't sleep terribly well either. She wakes likely with fewer muscle kinks and cramps than the pair who were on the couch, but it isn't HER bed. And she's still processing a bit. Eventually, she too gets out of bed and makes her way to the kitchen. The source of coffee. Without a change of her own clothes, she's wearing the same thing she wore last night, albeit a lot more rumpled now. "Coffee," she mumbles as she steps into the kitchen, searching for mugs.

Weaver is still sleeping for just a few moments longer. With the couch now free he does what any dragon would. He claims it as dominion by sprawling all over it. Just a t-shirt and pyjama pants for him as he snores. Loudly. Olivia is lucky enough not to see the constant pillars of smoke rising from his nostrols as he sleeps oh so noisily. Ever so often he mutters something about it all being his and refusing to share.

It might have made it harder to sleep when Velvet had her fit the night before, with the screaming and cutting one of the dead men's bodies into little pieces in the yard. But it was calm after that, and the mess was cleaned up by Weaver. The little boy is still asleep in the master bedroom, probably for the best at the moment. Velvet's blue eyes move towards Olivia as she comes in, giving her a nod. "Good job with the fire yesterday," she murmurs. "I have a dress that might fit you." Because with their size difference, there's no way any of her pants will do the trick.

"Fire is nice," Olivia says a bit blearily. She isn't fully awake. A mug is finally found and retrieved, then filled with coffee before she plunks herself down across the table from Velvet. The hot liquid is sipped carefully and she squints a bit at the offer of a dress, puzzled for a moment before she looks down at herself. "Eh? Oh. Yeah sure, but I'm not out to impress anyone today." Pause. "I don't think I am, anyway. Weird plans today?"

"Fire is nice," Velvet agrees with a slow incline of her head. She's not being careful with the drink, just letting it burn its way down so that she can get it into her as much as possible. "Weird plans today?" Is she just mimicking at this point? She blinks slowly. "Body disposal. Don't worry, I'll make sure that your car trunk is spotless," she assures.

Olivia squints one eye a bit at Velvet, peering at her. "Body disposal," she echoes. "Is this like... normal for you?" It isn't normal for her. None of this is normal. "Why are there bodies to dispose of? And why are we stealing children from a hospital?"

"This is normal for me. Though it doesn't usually happen in hospitals, or like that." Velvet looks down at her drink, eyes narrowing in thought. "Those men in the trunk. They were kidnapping children to sell into a sort of slavery. There should have been more dead bodies, but I couldn't get to the rooms in time. I could only save one." She sighs at the mention of stealing children. "It's complicated. I could come up with some big extravagent lie, but I really don't want to." She grabs a bagel and chucks it at Weaver. "Wake up."

Once beset upon by baked goods Weaver stirs from his slumber. He stares at it long and hard. Probably a little too hard. Clearly, this bagel must be one destined to teach him the error of his ways, and allow him to see the mysteries of the universe. Or, not. He looks up to stare into the kitchen. First Velvet. Then Olivia. His narrowed, sleepy gaze doesn't betray much, and eventually he decides that it the bagel came from Olivia and chucks it her way before trying to lie back down.

"Kidnapping children. Out of a hospital. With security and 24/7 staff." Olivia stares at Velvet, not entirely sure if she believes that. But why would Velvet lie to her? She sips the coffee again, considering. Weaver isn't really given a second glance until the bagel is hurled in her direction and she jumps at the sudden assault. "Hey, what the hell?! What was that for?"

The bagel is about to ping Olivia, Velvet's hand snapping out to catch it right out of the air and whip it right back at the man. Her aim is remarkable. "Weaver. Wake up. It's time to give Liv some answers." She glances back towards the woman. "Real answers." Her tone is heavy at that. "That entire time I was with you in the hospital, did you see me?" she wonders. "If I can sneak past all of that, why couldn't someone else?"

Weaver groans at first when his name is called again. Then growls when he's told to wake up again. He pushes himself upwards with a grunt, and eventually sits up. He blinks slowly while staring over to Velvet. "I've been woken up five times tonight. Once by Liv, again by you outside, and three times last night." Beat. "My favorite being the head butt because I probably did do something to deserver, but I'm not 100% sure what." After more grumbling under his breath he crosses over into the kitchen. He grabs the coffee pot's handle, looking as if he's ready to drink straight from it until he catches sight of Olivia again. "Oh. Right. Naswers. Yes, Liv, you are adopted. The end."

"I don't know," Olivia says with a shrug. "You were watching CCTV as far as I know. You were just texting me." She rubs at her eyes, peering between the two of them. Both hands wrap firmly around her mug as she blinks blearily at them. "Well you hucked a bagel at me. So that's probably one thing you did to deserve that." Her eyes roll at the mention of being adopted and she huffs indignantly. "Uh huh."

"If it makes you feel better, you can sleep all by yourself tonight," Velvet offers Weaver in a flat tone. She still has that strange look in her eyes from the night before, like all of the 'her' has left, and she's just a shell at the moment. "Could you please pledge your cousin so we can move forward?" she asks with a sigh. "Or do you want me to do it?" She sets down her cup, grabbing the next one and starting to chug.

For the time being he actually acts like a normal person, and pours his coffee into a mug. Weaver sighs after Velvet's response. "Alright, alright. No more fucking around, Vee, but I'd prefer you do to do it." He then looks over to Olivia. "Because I think right after she's gonna trust you a whole lot more than she trusts me."

Pledge? Olivia doesn't look like she has any understanding of what they're talking about. There's a quiet scoff at the mention of trust and she shakes her head. "Please. Just because you're occasionally an asshole doesn't mean I don't trust you." She sinks down into a slouch at the table; sitting up straight requires effort. "You're both being fucking weird. And that's saying something, coming from me."

"I don't think she'll be fond of either of us after this, Weaver, but fine." Velvet studies Olivia, her head inclining. "We are weird. Much more so than you know. I'm going to tell you everthing about everything. But in exchange I'm going to need to you to promise to keep it a secret. I'm going to open your eyes to something you aren't going to be able to close them to afterwards." There's no teasing in Velvet's tone as she stares at Liv. "If you want all the answers and truths, then this is your path.

"By my true name, I grant you sight. See the things of dream and wonder with eyes opened like the blossom of the rose. By your true name, you grant me the right to ask a boon, within the cycle of that moon. Swear that you shall grant it to me, so long as it does not bring you harm. Swear that you will keep this knowledge beneath the rose. And let he who is forsworn in this wake to find the thorns of this oath in him. Madness and ill luck follow you if you are false; I shall grant thee a boon, and be followed by misfortune should I prove false. Do you agree? Are you sure you want to see what's on the other side? Be sure. Say yes, and I'll show you the way to the people who've hidden themselves from you all along. You'll get one moon, one month. But be sure. Swear it on your name that you won't tell anyone else, or you'll wish you'd never met me." Velvet holds her hand out towards Olivia.

Olivia stares at Velvet as she speaks. It's very pretty prose, really. She has no idea the significance of it. She blinks almost owlishly, staring at the other woman as she processes what's been asked of her. "Uh." A sideways look is shot in Weaver's direction, watching her cousin for a moment before looking back towards Velvet. "I understood most of what you said, I think. And I thought I was the weird one." She considers for a moment before reaching over to take Velvet's hand. "Alright. Might as well."

Weaver stands there, coffe mug in hand as the two talk. "It's not for me to step in, but you need to swear on your name. Your true name. The one you go by and were given at birth." To that he sounds stadfast and sure. "You should also really hold to that promise, too. Trust me."

"Just say, I swear on my true name; Olivia Utrdige. Assuming that's it." Velvet's true name given at birth when she shares it? Baby Jane Doe. The owlish look is to be expected from Olivia so Velvet doesn't seem terribly surprised. But then, she doesn't seem terribly anything other than blank at the moment. So it might be a little offputting. As Olivia takes the hand, the pledge is sealed and the glamour trickles from Velvet into Olivia, granting her the ability to very suddenly see the truth of their Lost nature." Velvet drops the hand, letting it sink in for a moment.

"I don't HAVE any aliases, Weaver," Olivia tells him, looking a bit confused before looking back towards Velvet. "That's it." The affirmation is given with a slight nod to Velvet. "Alright. I swear on my true name, Olivia Utridge." As her vision shifts slightly, Olivia blinks a few times, rapidly. Slowly, her hand withdraws as Velvet releases it, and she flicks her gaze between the two of them. "Um. What? What is... this?" She gestures absently between the two of them, eyes getting a bit wider.

The what of it is answered quickly enough. Weaver appears before her, as she saw in the hospital that night. His skin covered in pitch black scales. The eyes, at least, are different: they're a milky grey that are almost transcluscent, and appear more ghostly than human. Smoke billows from his mouth and nose as he breathes, disappearing as quickly as it leaves him like warmth in the winter. Oddest of all are the wings at his back, bunched up there while indoors. The shadow behind him is his own, at least, although it grows in size and appears to be alive and betraying his true draconic nature wholesale.

"Please don't freak out," he says with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Weaver lifts a clawed hand in her direction, and sets his mug on the counter. "Just take a few deep breaths and try not to scream."

Velvet's appearance is far more docile. Her eyes are glowing pools of blue light, with those long ears protruding from either side of her head. Her blonde hair is a far more striking white that goes well past her hips. There are little shimmers along her features every now and then, altering in shape or appearance for a few moments before returning to 'normal'. Both of the lost exude a raw sort of energy. The weight of it is thick in the air. "This is the real us, which is something hidden from normal sight. Only when you've gone through the same changes we have, or have been given glamour like I just gave you, are you able to see through the Mask."

The coffee mug in her hands is slowly, carefully, set down on the table. "I'm not freaking out," Olivia says quietly, though there is noticable strain in her tone. She WANTS to freak out. She looks back towards Velvet as she offers up an explanation, but it does little to actually EXPLAIN the situation. "I don't understand," she finally says before peering back over at Weaver. "Where is my cousin? Are you just pretending to be him? What do you gain from all this? Why the trickery? Who ARE you people?"

"No, I am your cousin, and this time you get to see me. The real me. We have a mask, that's what you've been seeing." He looks down briefly, and with a sigh looks back tup to Olivia. "The same one that wants to help you with your fire. The same one that had to do all of that stupid fucking ballet when we were kids." Then the wings unfurl and Weaver looks her dead in the eye. "I was taken by something I don't think you could really understand, and this is what I was forced in-" He stops for a moment, correcting, "This is what I am."

"The Trickery is to keep us safe. If everyone could see us for what we truly looked like, how well do you think that would go?" Velvet steps back, taking Weaver's arm so that he moves with her. She walks him back towards the couch to sit, and offers a seat for Olivia as well. Giving her space for now, and the option to come sit with them if she wants. "It's a lot to explain in one go, but I'm going to try my best," she promises. "We are called Changelings. You know those olds stories about evil faeries who stole children from their beds and brought them into horrible, fantastic worlds? We are the children that were stolen, and then managed to escape. What we look like are because of adaptations that were forced on us where we were stolen to."

Olivia purses her lips, fingertips gently drumming on the surface of the table. Weaver knows things, to be certain. She can't help but lean back a bit in her seat as the wings unfurl, making him look a little more imposing than he already does. "I see," she says carefully before turning her attention back towards Velvet. The redhead lets them go to the couch, turning slightly to watch them, but not quite prepared to sit yet. "That sounds like something out of a storybook. Which I think is the point. Maybe. I have no idea what's happening."

Now that the cat's out of the bag Weaver no longer goes about playing along. He reaches for the coffee pot now, and lifts it too his lips. He then downs as much of the steaming brew as he can before setting it back on the eye. "It's not always that simple, too. I've met some that don't even make a lick of fucking sense. I'm talking shit like tentacle wings and five eyes. Some of us also got off fairly lucky. Especially the ones that escaped. And the me you saw well before? When I got kinda weird before you went out to New York? That wasn't me. It was some copy of me made of God knows what the fuck. Some of 'em are made of straw and sticks, even saw one made of computer shit and wires when the real him ki-" Nope. Not tonight. "Anyway, that's what