-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 8 Successes for an exceptional success.
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================================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd 9-Again << <-
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 8 Successes for an exceptional success.
< 1 1 1 2 2 2 4 4 4 5 5 5 5 5 5 6 6 6 6 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 9 9 9 9 10 10 >
============================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 8 9-Again << <-
-> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 6 Successes for an exceptional success.
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=======================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics + 8 9-Again << <-
Waiting for Dielle is like waiting for Godot, but quite a bit more hedge is involved with the former than the latter, and quite a bit less existential angst. There's a very little light from the tiny knothole windows, and the doors that open outward whose lines are hidden in the grain of the wood show no light 'round their edges (especially, ya know, at night). It's dark in here, but Teagan doesn't seem to much care: they are a shadow, after all. A bored Shadow. They lay on the floor next to the glass coffin, their head next to the head of the Fairest whose face vaguely fogs up the glass in slow, rhythmic time. The Mirrorskin is, perhaps, watching her. Their face slowly shifts, keeping time with the Fairest's breathing. That girl isn't gorgeous, but she's striking, as some Fairest are. And Teagan waits.
It's always a wee bit of a warning sign when Mindfinder goes silent real-side. Not much for phone calls, Vorpal would honestly rather poke a contract to go find company, and when that turns up nothing but metaphorical static? It's time to Hedgedive and see what comes up. Finding -something- on the other end of the clause is relieving, and V starts making his way towards Teagan's location. On the downside? Mindfinder only lasts an hour. On the plus side? Trips Vorpal makes in the Hedge alone ALWAYS take an hour. So, just as the magic fades? He's coming up on the huge treehouse hollow, and wondering how the shit he's missed that every time he's headed up to camp in Nat's hollow. He could knock... but he doesn't much like the idea of making noise that could draw attention to the hollow. So, instead, he divorces most of his weight and flicks himself up into the tree's limbs, clambering up rapidly. Finding a knothole, he puts his eye to it and squints inwards. Yep. There's Teagan. And Sleeping... Striking? That's not quite as catchy as the original, but Vorpal puts that out of his mind as he leans towards another knothole to speak.
"... yo."
-> >> Teagan to Here << <-============================================
Rolled 4 Successes
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================================-> >> Wits + Composure 8-Again << <-
The answer is, of course, because the tree doesn't want to be seen. Hollows are like that. They like to hide, when their owners like them to hide.
The Shadowsoul sits up abruptly at the sound of the voice, and then grunts. "Oh, hey Johnny," they call. "Where you at?" It's not really possible to place exactly which of the tiny windows he's talking in through, after all. "This is the most boring-ass guard duty I've ever had. For real."
Vorpal pokes one sharp bladey-finger through the knothole to wave at Teagan. "Guard duty? Is that what this is? Aren't you a bit tall for the roll of Grumpy? I'll grant the temperament's not a bad fit, but-" The finger withdraws, and Johnny puts another shadowlocked eye against the knothole. "I didn't want to knock and attract attention. Or invade. So arboreal ascension it is. How'd you get stuck on -guard- duty? That's not much your style."
"It's not, but someone has to fucking do it. And I'd want someone to do it if I were locked in some weird-ass glass casked that gives people visions and shit. This is Alonso's hollow, he brought us over here to wait for Dielle, or -- I guess you can take this off my hands," Teagan realizes, after a moment. "Come be official and take this sleeping girl off my hands, Johnny. There's a door on the first floor. Or -- " They roll up to their feet and shake their shoulders out, then go to open one of the escape doors. "Don't like hang off the tree and be all 'hi I'm a godling calling attention to this hollow'. Come inside."
Vorpal ducks and weaves through the branches to slip in through the door, scoffing quietly. "If I managed to walk past this place day in day out, I very much doubt one unobtrusive shadow in the branches is going to draw attention." One High Wyrd Sublime Ancient, perhaps! But he doesn't address that. "Take her off your hands? Where am I supposed to take her, exactly? Or am I just supposed to go on guard duty?"
"Johnny, for serious, do you not have any idea what the shit the Hedge does when you're around? Or do you just look around and think 'the Hedge is still like this when I am not around?' Because, hello, you change shit. But, yeah, like, come inside." Teagan rubs their hands over the front of their jacket, a sort of absent, fussy motion -- Teagans do not like to be cooped up, thank you. "I dunno. You guys have places to put shit. That Hollow we went to that's for Harvestmen that Itsuki took me to that I wasn't supposed to go to, oops. Or the Freehold one that I can't get into. I'm sure you guys have places to store Sleeping Fairest. I sure as fuck don't."
"Okay, that's a fair statement- ha- but let me pose THIS puzzler to you." Vorpal clears his throat and gestures idly at the casket. "How the shit am I s'posed to move her? I'm God of the Hunt, not God of the HNNNNNNNNGH," he points out, flexing in absolute futility at the absurd grunting. "And I have someplace -I- could keep her, but it's not... i mean, -entirely- secure, unless you know where it is and can open trods through the Mad Garden. Any of those other places, I'd need permission to coop her up."
"Har har har," Teagan answers, rolling their eyes at Vorpal. "He who would pun would pick a pocket." Which doesn't seem to be a condemnation of punning, when you consider it's coming from a pickpocket. Their hands slide into their pockets, and their face shifts subtly, a sort of weary look crossing their face. "Well. I mean. We can get her out of here the same way we got her in."
"And how in the world did you manage -that-?" Inquires Vorpal, with some small evidence of disbelief. "And for that matter. Whot the hells -is- she."
Their hands are stuffed in their pockets, and they sigh in the most weary of ways, exhaustion crinkling the corners of their eyes. "So, I can turn into a really large quilt," they explain, rubbing a hand down their face. "And I made myself as strong as I could, we wrapped her up in ... me... and then dragged her. Which, like, works. And then we made a sledge behind Alonso's fae horse. Rojo, which is dumb, because it's a fucking black horse."
Vorpal blinks behind the shadows, tilting his head only after a few moments. "... um. That's... clever, and impressive, but. Even with superquilt Teagan to the rescue, I am not what anyone could call a powerhouse. And what's wrong with the name Roho? Or do you mean it was dumb because you kept getting dragged through horse apples?"
"I mean that the name means red in Spanish, but it's a black horse, and that's probably some sort of dumb communist joke that I don't get, but can you admit that calling a black horse 'red' is dumb? And, thankfully Rojo is smart enough that I didn't get literally shit on. But like, if you drag me, it's a lot easier to move the weight. Six and vervanE did and they're not what you would call fucking powerhouses," Teagan explains, "or you could go get someone who's stronger, I don't fuckin' know, man."
"Well. Fair. Calling the black horse Red. Though, I've heard backwards names like that are used to ward off-" Abruptly Vorpal chokes and laughs as his brain finishes before his tongue. "-to ward off -fairies.- Ha! Alright, listen. Lemme check with the Captain. If she okays it, we can start moving her to that place you totally never went to, because that'd Be Bad. But I gotta get clearance on that. Trying to stay in the good graces of the higher-ups. My place is questionable on the security front, which is great for me- I'd welcome uninvited guests, after all- but for a safe place... not so great." He rubs at his chin, studying her a moment. "Who is she?"
"I don't know," Teagan admits, "But I'm pretty sure at least one person died to protect her."
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