Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 5 February 2005 |
| Who: | Bronwen, Gwyneth, Tyrr |
| What: | Tyrr breaks the news to Gwyneth and Bronwen about who Sandra really is. |
Back Room - Fado's
Tucked back along the far half of the second floor of Fado's lies an oversized break room, decorated in what can only be described as a highly stylized hunting lodge, complete with rich birch and pine parquet pattern inlaid on the floor. A large hand axe, its grip wrapped in deep brown leather, hangs on a plaque above doorway in such a way that it can be easily unmounted for actual use. A few sturdy tables provided by the best of urban outfitters feature gnarled oak legs and frames, and between their forest green cushioned seats and the trio of black suede couches on the far wall, provide room for about two dozen people. The few modern amenities include a sink for washing up and a kitchentte, along with a six foot wide plasma flatscreen television. Trophies from ethereal spirits, ornamentation with traditional clothing, and even a decapitated gorgon's head line the wood panelled walls, with the gilt and lapis inlaid flail and shepard's crook of Osiris as a feature centerpiece.
Sitting on the couch next to the shelf with the stereo, Tyrr sits, a book in his hand. The book is a leatherbound book of at least a century in age, the pages written in by hand in a somewhat ornate script. But he's not reading right now, no. Instead his eyes are closed, though he doesn't appear to be asleep... He's lost deeply in the song that is playing right now over the stereo. Franz Schubert's rendition of Ave Maria.
The faint scrape of a key entering the back door's lock might catch the attention of someone who has excellent hearing, but the momentary warning wouldn't do much as the door swings open not seconds later. Bronwen's gaze quickly skims the room and a light frown marrs her features.
As the song reaches it's midpoint, quite a few seconds after Bronwen enters the backroom, it becomes quite apparent that Tyrr is lost in the beauty of the voice and composition of this particular rendition of the Ave Maria. Only after Bronwen stands there for another few seconds does Tyrr wave her to come over toward where he is, closing the ancient bound book. "You don't look that happy."
"Do I ever?" Bronwen remarks smartly, closing the door behind her quietly. "The past few weeks have been... bizarre, to say the least. You should see some of the reports going around the department from odd encounters. Normally we get the occasional one that I manage to field in one way or another. Not these ones."
A loud 'whack' from the door shutting quickly rings out, but not from Bronwen's quiet entry. With eyes slightly crossed, Gwyneth paces in, expression rapt upon the nearly black, dark brown sliver sitting atop a tiny plate in her hands. "You can actually smell it from here," she says in wonderment of the dark chocolate flourless cake. "Hey, Bron," she says absently, before hopping on the couch beside Tyrr, making him bob a few times from the cushion's protests against her invasion.
"Yes, I've heard..." Tyrr's face goes dark, there has been much on his mind since last night when he met with Remy, "how I have heard..." His words are nothing more than a whisper, not because of the arrival of Genevieve, but there is something weighing down on his mind. "Tell me, have you managed to make contact, either of you, with this Sandra and Christian? And know where to find them?"
"Phht, not since he pulled that stunt over my drawing. Fucking asshole." She pokes out her lower lip slightly before leaning over towards Tyrr, batting her eyes. "Do you like my pigtails?" Well, at least that was the technical name for them. The two gathered tufts of blond hair were tied back and looked like little more than the feathers you'd see on a hoot-owl. "And what's up with the rain-lady ANYWAY?"
"I've neither seen nor heard hair or hide of this Christian, other than vague descriptions from witnesses at the scene a few weeks ago," Bronwen answers as she crosses her arms over her chest. "As for Sandra, I know exactly where she is. Or was, if she's gone back out for the day. I managed to find her a couple of days ago and took her to a shelter run by an angelic acquaintence of mine. She's somehow decided to trust me but why exactly is a bit beyond my understanding... unless my indications of being wolf-like and not hyena-like made sense to her." The greeting by the unknown young lady gets a blink as her words are mentally reprocessed. "Hello... Genevieve?"
Listening somewhat absently at first, Tyrr head snaps up from looking at the book cover, which is unmarked old leather, when Bronwen says she knows where Sandra is. "You know where Raph..." Tyrr quickly corrects himself, "Sandra is? You have to bring her here Bronwen. Today if possible. She is key to something I need to put into motion. Something that only us three can know of. You /have/ to bring her here."
Gwyneth tries to squirm a bit closer towards Tyrr, although whether or not she will succeed is questionable. "Yep!" she chirps out in response to Bronwen, before murmuring, "Hiiiiiiii." Her left hand is still clutching plate and fork, trying to balance it out some. "And you know, this vessel IS an inch taller. 16 more, and I'll be your height." She trails off as she hears the seriousness in his voice, and retreats to the far side of the couch. "Only us three what? Like you and Bron and Sandra or like..."
"It's good to see that you're back, Genevieve," Bronwen says, still referring to the woman's other vessel name. "And while I know where she is-was, trying to convince her to come into an unknown place that may have... untrustable people would be very, very difficult. And that's if she's still at the shelter for lunch or if she's out trying to catch raindrops. There is something very bizarre about her, even for a Remnant if what I felt was right."
Tyrr glances between the two before looking back down at the book he's holding in his hands. The silence that fills the room shows that Tyrr's thinking hard on the course of action he's going to take in the next few days. Finally, he says, "She's Raphael."
Gwyneth slides off the side of the couch, her rump slapping onto the floor. Eyes wide, jaw slack, she says, "Come again?"
Bronwen's expression utterly relaxes in shock. "She's who?" the cop manages to croak out, totally surprised for the first time in quite a while.
While he was shocked himself when Remy told him last night, Tyrr didn't show it as much as either of these two. The disbelief kind of strikes a cord in his mind, making him wonder why he accepted it so readily. "Raphael. And she's the key to Dominic being brought to account for all of his crimes." Tyrr looks at his book before looking up at either of them. "You need to get Sandra here, whether she comes consciously or not." The words don't come out as a request either, "And Gen, you can keep an eye and track this Christian. We'll need to know where he is when the time is right."
"Oh yeah, sure, that'd be super. I can just get popped out of this vessel too and come back in my old one, fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine. I'm going to have to move to... Kuala Lampur at this rate..." She sighs, and dips her head, but doesn't actually say no.
Bronwen taps her fingers on the opposite elbow as she thinks out possibilities. "Is the medusa fountain functioning? It might distract her for a bit... and both of you might have to reveal your true natures in order for her to trust you."
"NUH-uh. If she's a remnant, she's not going to like it! I'm a friggin' four foot wide ball of friggin' flame! Who wants to stick around to get to know THAT?! And have you SEEN -*HIS*- wingspan? I mean come on, you'd have to watch a football game for the first HALF to get enough motion on the ball to cover the amount of space those big inky black things cover!"
Tyrr rises from his seat, setting the book down on the coffee table not more than two feet from the couch. Stepping over to the middle of the room, Tyrr remains silent for a moment as he stares at the ceiling. "Track Christian, and bring Sandra here." Tyrr then kneels down on one leg, his Celestial form suddenly taking the place where his vessel was, the wings only expanded about 1/5th their usual length before Tyrr disappears in a flash of light, the faintest whisper of "God forgive me for what I shall do," can be heard before he disappears.
Gwyneth STARES at the spot where he left, as if memorizing it.
Gwyneth promptly gets up, and then looks around the room. After a moment of contemplation, she grunts as she drops one shoulder into the left armrest of the couch, trying to shove it over towards that very same spot. "That's what he gets for not telling me what I'm supposed to do AFTER I find the asshole."
Bronwen tries to not smile at Gwyneth's repositioning of the couch. "Think he'll ever connect the sudden disappearing with the furniture rearrangement?" she asks as she shakes her head. "You may not have to go into your Celestial form in order to convince Sandra. She did some sort of Song that made you feel as if you were in the higher heavens, or pretty close to it."
Gwyneth blinks some at the news delivered by Bronwen. "Wha? When was this?" Her small chest heaves a few times as she whuffs out air, taking care to not stomp through the plate.
Bronwen shakes her head. "Two days ago, when I managed to convince Sandra to visit the shelter I knew of," she replies, still hesitant to use Sandra's true name.
Gwyneth emits a quiet 'oh' to herself at the information. "Does she have any awareness of what she is... was? I mean, knowing how to use songs is one thing, but memories for Remnant are disjointed from their abilities."
"To be quite honest, I don't know. I do know that she can still hear the Symphony, but to her it's a background buzz that never seems to go away... except when she drinks enough wine to mute it for a bit," Bronwen answers. "That alone has to be maddening."
Gwyneth belatedly murmurs. "Pretty wings," looking back towards Tyrr's position. "Well, you two are cut from the same cloth, what do you think I'm supposed to do? Just find him without getting into trouble?" She glances back towards Bronwen, and nods quietly. "Ringing would be annoying, I suppose. Especially if it was just a drone and didn't have any beats per second, you know."
Bronwen hmmms as she contemplates possible paths. "Is there any way for you to be able to track him? Something like the Guardians' ability, but... what if you planted an item of yours that you're attuned to on him?"
Gwyneth thinks for a bit, tapping fingertips together. "Well, I tagged Tyrr's vessel with tokened tattoo ink, I thought THAT was sly of me. At this point, the best strategy would be to just LOOK for him."
Bronwen grins at that the tattoo tidbit. "Smart move," she remarks. "Though I was thinking something a little easier. Say a coin, or a slip of paper... something that people carry around but tend to forget about until they go to do laundry. Meet up in a club and offer him your phone number on a piece of paper?"
Gwyneth makes a face. "He doesn't like me! Oh! Wait... different body. And if I actually calm down for a bit..." She thinks for a moment. "I'd need to get some clothes for something like that. It's a good idea!" she chirps out.
Bronwen nods. "Precisely. And unless he can see beyond the vessel, this should be safe enough," she muses. "Or I sincerely hope it will be."
Gwyneth makes another face, and then considers. "At worst, I'll just pop back up in the cathedral. Speaking of which, I should toss a party there sometime."
"I'm sure it'll liven up the place for a bit," Bronwen agrees. "In the mean time, I'm going to see if I can track down Sandra and manage to convince her that Fado's is one of the safest spots in the city."
Gwyneth okies, and then finally tries to take a fork to the cake. She tries to place it sideways, an attempt to slice it, knife-like. The fork stops less than midway through the cake. Gwynne's eyes go wide, and she then squints, trying to press down further. "Iffn' you hear any screaming, ignore it, it'll be me."
"You want me to ignore it?" the other woman asks, mildly surprised. "You know we would come to protect you should you need it."
Gwyneth makes a gaping face like a fish out of water and keels over on her side. "Just meant right now, ohhhhnnnn." A faint giggle comes from her. "S'good."
"Fair enough. I'll warn Kurgan as well, on my way out," Bronwen answers, turning towards the door with a faint grin. "Enjoy your delight."
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