[INBOX] Pumpkin Hollow
Jul. 24th, 2023 12:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deaths_head
[phone/call/text/smoke signals for Pumpkin Hollow. Requesting a charm, spell, or tonic? Just put the particular bit of magical help you're looking for in the subject of your comment! :D]
deaths_head[phone/call/text/smoke signals for Pumpkin Hollow. Requesting a charm, spell, or tonic? Just put the particular bit of magical help you're looking for in the subject of your comment! :D]
[Action!]
Date: 2023-07-24 11:19 pm (UTC)He'll wait down at the bar in the tavern portion of the inn, fingertips drumming lightly across the wooden surface next to his drink.
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Date: 2023-07-25 08:05 pm (UTC)Within a couple of minutes, a surly looking redhead of impressive height is coming downstairs, carefully ducking his head to avoid a beam here or an ornamental corbel there. Looking for the table the server had indicated, the Shade is caught off guard by a swell of emotion he wasn't expecting.
Kid's young, fair, has the right cut of his jaw--there's no real resemblance, per se, but for one painful gut-check of a moment, he's reminded of the man baby Zeke had grown up to be...the one warped into demonic madness because of what he had done.
Taking a breath to steady himself and smooth his features back into stern composure again, the Shade pulls up a chair across from the kid.
"Got told you wanted to see me." he declares, voice deep as the grave. "Joe--what's your name, son?"
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Date: 2023-07-26 02:07 am (UTC)As the man takes his seat, Lucas offers a friendly grin despite how the man's voice rattles in his bones. "Lucas. I saw your flyer and I was interested to see what you do, actually. Uh...if that's cool?"
Belatedly Lucas stretches out his hand in greeting, if Shade wants to take him up on it.
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Date: 2023-07-26 04:49 pm (UTC)Definitely reminds him of Zeke.
Shifting, he leans forward and accepts the handshake. The Shade's hand is big enough to fair swallow the boy's, his long, lean fingers powerful--but holding that power in check with a grip just firm enough to be polite.
"Joe--pleasure." he replies with a terse, but not unfriendly nod once he takes his hand back. "Happy to show you somethin', long as you don't find death magic altogether disturbing. That's what I work with--hence the warning 'bout a cost with what I do. Price can be steep in the balance, mind, but it's mostly to spook them that ain't serious. I mitigate the risks as best I can."
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Date: 2023-07-26 07:19 pm (UTC)"Call me curious about that, actually? I work with a lot of spooky things back home, so it's not like I'm totally blind going into this, but what is it you do exactly? And how? When you say price I'm guessin' you're not talking about brass." But Lucas has pulled in some overtime, so he's got brass to burn, if need be.
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Date: 2023-07-31 07:14 pm (UTC)The Shade looks a bit at a loss, then spots Lucas's drink and gestures to it.
"I could make you a decent charm to ward off death by poison. Small wand you stir into any drink. Catch, it'd prolly be made of dried oleander leaves. Or maybe a bracelet to fend off infection, consecrated with the blood of a dead man, or wove with nightshade blossoms, or decorated in human bone." he points out. "Not a lot of my magic's formalized, mages are the most primal of spellworkers where I come from. Lot of it's from the gut, but the key to everything for me is death. Gotta be present, or the potential for it. But, as I said, I take precautions. I make you a tonic to cure some ill? Gonna contain poison, but I mix in a healthy dose of charcoal dust to be safe. Make sense?"
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Date: 2023-08-02 02:14 am (UTC)"Yeah, I think so. I think you might actually have problems getting something like human bones around here, though. Considering the state of the village and all," Since people don't stay dead and their bodies vanish it sort of negates that. Lucas isn't sad about that option being off the table, though. He has to work to repress a shudder at the thought.
"But, uh...say I want a charm for my cottage. Would that be possible?"
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Date: 2023-08-02 08:54 pm (UTC)Charm for his cottage. The Shade leans forward, one arm resting on the table while the other absently rubs at his chin as he rolls it over in his head while studying the boy. He covers up good, but there's a tension 'round the eyes--nothing new, the Shade is used to discomfort in all things pertaining to his calling from other people. Kid's still here, though, and the Shade finds he likes him for it.
...maybe something in the way of protection. Passing on may have been taken away in this place, but death is still present--just don't stick. A charm for rest? Remembrance? Yeah, that could work...
"Absolutely possible--and I got something in mind if you ain't." the Shade assures him, tipping his head curiously. "You want something particular, or you wanna know my idea?"
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Date: 2023-08-06 12:20 am (UTC)"I'd like to hear your idea," Lucas says with puppy-like eagerness. Truth be told he didn't have much of an idea to begin with.
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Date: 2023-08-07 05:39 pm (UTC)"That's the thing 'bout my work. Hard to explain a gut feeling." he grumbles mildly. He thinks for a second, then glances at the bar.
"Hang on a tic..."
He stands, crossing over to the bar. After a moment of conversation, the barmaid behind the counter heads back into the kitchen, and after about two minutes returns with a sprig of rosemary, one of oregano, and one of parsley--all fresh.
Bringing them back to the table, the Shade takes his seat again and starts shredding the plants. He speaks as he works, breaking a couple branches off the rosemary sprig.
"Rosemary for remembrance--recall, memory."
He strips a few parsley leaves, and with deft fingers, ties the stems around the rosemary sprig.
"Parsley's connected to death. Sprung from the blood of Archemorus, forerunner of Death." The Shade's been mistaken for him before by that neopagan set...
The Shade rips off a couple of oregano leaves, using the flexible parsley stems to tie them on, wrapping the leaves around the rosemary and binding them with the parsley.
"Oregano for joy beyond the grave--ward 'round the home to keep away evil, bound to love."
Once he's done with his little arts and crafts project, he sets the decorated rosemary sprig between them on the table. He stares at it for a second, then lays a hand on it and shuts his eyes, falling silent.
When he starts to speak, just barely audible, the air around them cools just a little--not to freezing, but enough to be noticeable.
"Earth his pillow,
grass his shroud,
grant his rest though life be proud."
The temperature abruptly plummets, then returns to normal with a swiftness that leaves fine beads of condensation on the surface of the table. Opening his eyes, the Shade taps the tabletop beside the decorated branch.
"Take this home, give it some sun, let it dry out 'n die. Once it's gone crispy, crumble it up 'n keep it in whatever container you want--hell, maybe I can whittle ya something. Just don't let it leave your abode. Given the whole issue with death 'round these parts, long as this stays in your home? God forbid something should happen to you, oughta improve your odds of coming to in safety--and if I done it right, oughta improve your odds of coming to at home."
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Date: 2023-08-08 04:18 pm (UTC)He sits up on Shade's return, watching intently, soaking it all in like a sponge.
The swift change of temperature takes him by surprise, breath catching hard in his throat. Lucas takes a few moments after to settle himself, nodding along to the given instructions. "Got it. Thanks, Joe...I tend to get myself into trouble so this should help."
And much like a puppy, Lucas cocks his head to one side, "You whittle?"
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Date: 2023-08-08 05:14 pm (UTC)"Uh--yeah." he replies with a nod. "I mean--when I was alive, the first time I mean, I was an undertaker by trade so woodworking's one of my specialties. Took to it like a duck to water, so...I been known to muck around with a little whittling when I wanna keep m' hands busy. Idle hands are the devil's playthings, as they say, but ain't nothin' truer for a death mage like me, I tell you what."
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Date: 2023-08-09 02:34 pm (UTC)"It's good to have hobbies. Being here...I'm realizing I don't really have one that doesn't need electricity." That feels lame to even say, but true. No video games or phone games in Pumpkin Hollow!
"Do you think sometime you could teach me to whittle?" He asks sheepishly. Something about Joe just felt familiar in the strangest way. Lucas can't put his finger on it but he figures it doesn't hurt to ask.
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Date: 2023-08-09 05:39 pm (UTC)"I'll show you, yeah." he assures him. "Even show you a couple other ways to pass the time." Glancing around, his smirk grows into a warmer smile.
"Believe it or not, this place suits me just fine. The tech, the style--leans more European, but ain't so far off from the days when I grew up. Momma was Irish, Daddy came from Texas, I got raised in New Mexico. Barely twenty one when Queen Victoria kicked."
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Date: 2023-08-09 06:09 pm (UTC)"Might be a good idea. Might even keep me out of trouble," Lucas snickers a bit. It probably won't, he's just as bad as Nieve honestly, but it's worth a shot!
"Wow, okay, uh! Queen Victoria was like the end of the 1800s right? Or right on 1900? What a time to be alive, though! Lots of things were already changing, huh?" If he has his history right that is. Or if the world Joe came from is anything like his own.
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Date: 2023-08-10 05:40 pm (UTC)The Shade tips his head to regard Lucas thoughtfully. "Reckon you come from a world like mine, if not outright. What's the year when Mortanne took you, if you don't mind me askin'?"
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Date: 2023-08-15 03:06 am (UTC)"Sounds like they're pretty similar, if not the same? Do you have anything called IOPSA in your world?" Does he sound hopeful? Oh yes, but tempered by others answering in the negative. "Well...it was two thousand nine last I remember. So kind of a big gap there, yeah?"
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Date: 2023-08-31 05:33 pm (UTC)After his conversation with Degas, he surmises discretion might be the better part of valor.
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Date: 2023-08-31 05:41 pm (UTC)"Looking pretty spry for being over a hundred, what's your routine?" Lucas asks, half-seriously.
"IOPSA isn't really a government thing, it's an international series of offices with people who want to research the paranormal or help maintain the accords we made with supernatural beings. So, more an independent thing, really." It's just too bad that most people here don't seem to come from the same world. Bummer!
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Date: 2023-09-01 05:44 pm (UTC)"So magic 'n such--it's open knowledge where you're from? You got any yourself? Magic, or unnatural blood, I mean."
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Date: 2023-09-07 12:07 am (UTC)“It is, yeah. Not that everyone understands it, mind you, but it’s out there.” Not some weird secret that it seems to be in other worlds. At the question of magical blood, Lucas fidgets in his seat.
“I wouldn’t say either of those is true, but I am a Medium. Uh…I can talk to spirits and I have something called retrocogition, too. Seeing the past?” And the third thing but it’s a lot to dump on someone all at once.
Magic notes!
Date: 2023-08-07 05:42 pm (UTC)We had the same idea about making charms, spells and tonics. Are you in my head and I just didn't know?
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Date: 2023-08-07 05:50 pm (UTC)Nope. Place has no use for an undertaker, just trying to be helpful. Bit of a compulsion, figure it's due to being alive.
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Date: 2023-08-07 06:09 pm (UTC)How good are you with your hands?
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Date: 2023-08-08 05:18 pm (UTC)Good enough to wring your fool neck if you don't just come and talk to me like a normal human being, brat.
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Date: 2023-08-08 06:22 pm (UTC)You’re the brat.
[ As soon as he reads the words, there will be a knock at his door. When he opens it up, he will find her standing there with a petulant look on her face. ]
I was busy.
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Date: 2023-08-09 04:50 pm (UTC)[The reply comes with his usual token scowl, but he steps aside to let her into his modest room at the Oak & Iron--a room he fills not just with his presence, but his stature.
The poor man spends a lot of time ducking through doorways.]
Why you askin' about my tinkerin' anyway, little mage? Told you when I claimed you I was an undertaker in life. My hands are my trade, why you wanna know?
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Date: 2023-08-09 05:05 pm (UTC)[ It probably works out that Nieve is more petite in stature than he is. Physically, she doesn’t take up much room but her presence is more than that as she walks into his room, looking around curiously.
She knows he can’t do much in a room that isn’t his own but she still looks for personal touches he might have made. ]
I’m asking because I have plans for a sort of warning system but I am not good at making things with my hands, not like you.
[ She looks at him. ]
Which is why I asked about how good you are with your hands. Could you make wood chimes?
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Date: 2023-08-10 05:48 pm (UTC)Little bit 'cause he doesn't wanna answer it. Mainly, though? Cause it's so damn practical.
So he leans back, absently rubbing at his beard as he rolls the idea over in his head.]
Chimes, least if you're using 'em for some kinda alarm, you'd be best served with metal. Reckon you could get a nice sound out of 'em, with some magic, but if you got issues tappin' power like I got at the moment? Could be too much effort for too little reward. I could do it, just...
[He trails off, then absently reaches for paper and pencil on his nearby table. The page is already covered with various doodles--well, doodles, they're exceptional if rough portraits of people he's met so far. Nieve's own face might be in there a time or two.
However, he's using the bulk of the page to start sketching out something that looks like a pan flute. When he's done, he shows it to her.]
You work with a little simple air magic, mount that next to a door? Someone passes when it's active, the air current triggers the flute to play. Loud, but not unpleasant if it's triggered by mistake.
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Date: 2023-08-10 06:18 pm (UTC)At least if she could keep him busy… ]
I thought about the air magic, that should be easy enough. I’m tweaking it too to make a rather unpleasant noise to anything dangerous but on a level not usually heard by people. More like a dog whistle or something.
[ She drew closer to look at his sketchbook, noticing the odd one that looked familiar to her. Curious. ]
I like your ideas.
[ And when he paused to lift his pencil, she snatched the book, intrigued enough to forget her manners as she looked at the sketch closely. ]
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Date: 2023-08-31 05:36 pm (UTC)[The Shade lets out a shout of protest when she snatches his notebook. Not a yelp.
The Shade does not yelp. He doesn't.]
I'd be more inclined to believe you if you didn't go snatchin' at things ain't yours to begin with, brat--give that here...
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Date: 2023-09-01 04:16 am (UTC)Did you draw all of these?
[ She sounded amazed as she spun away from him, her skirt flaring around her for a second as she attempted to stay out of reach. Then she turned the book to show him the sketches, pointing to one. ]
Is this me?
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Date: 2023-09-01 05:41 pm (UTC)[The scowl on his face could kill if he were still a god...but he's oddly silent besides that admission. He can't help it, even in life, this wasn't something he shared. He whittled, he quietly did some work for the dead as an undertaker to create keepsakes or adornments for a casket, but anything more than that? The drawings, the figurines...
Even when Death instructed him in magic, he made poppets out of cloth and twine. This has always been separate--this is the closest thing he has to humanity left in him, and he's held onto it through life and through death.
It's entirely too personal, so...he has nothing else to say about it. He can't--not until she asks a very specific question and he has to look, to assess--and finally nod.]
Yep. S' uh...last time I saw you 'fore here. You'd just figgered out that...potion or talisman or whatever you was workin' on.
[He remembers the look--he remembers it every time she gets it. Like the world has cracked itself open and she can see inside, happy as a child...
The Shade will always remember that look, because it's the reason he claimed her soul in the first place. Not her power, not her skill, but the way she thirsted for knowledge the way a kid believed in Santa Claus: purely, truly, and without avarice.]
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Date: 2023-09-01 06:24 pm (UTC)She had to shake herself out of it though. This was not a normal human being that she could afford to get all gooey warm about despite the fact that he was human at the moment. There was just too much of him to really throw herself into and for once she might actually listen to the little warning bells in her head.
But why did her cheeks feel warm even as she affected a nonchalant attitude, nodding a bit as she abruptly handed the book over. ]
Well, I think you actually made me look better than I actually do.
[ She turned away quickly, almost like she was dismissing the whole thing as she started speaking again. ]
So you could whittle the wind chimes, yes?
[Note]
Date: 2023-12-13 08:11 am (UTC)from one who cares for the dead, to another
The note within is on plain white paper, and in the same script: "The path Eternity walks must be their own. But you will be able to keep your horrors, for harming them is not in my mandate."
The note might be used to trace back to the sender, if the Shade thinks to use it that way. Or it may give him ideas of reaching out to this other who claims to 'care for the dead'.
Re: [Note]
Date: 2023-12-13 06:17 pm (UTC)"...not your mandate, my fat ass."
Grumbling to himself, the Shade heads into his kitchen and looks around in the cabinet for the jars he keeps spell components in--namely, several poisons he doesn't let near the food. Locating some nightshade that will do the trick, he adds a little to his inkwell and sets about writing back. He wouldn't normally go to the trouble of communicating this way, but he wants to keep Chris the hell out of it.
The handwriting on this response is bolder cursive, vaguely old fashioned--and if there's a little ink spatter? Well, he's pissed, goddamnit.
A newborn don't know how to walk. They gotta learn how before a single step can be taken--to keep that knowledge from them is harmful.
This kid can barely crawl.
The Shade lays the note, along with the one he received, in a makeshift grave out in the back of his house, marking it with the husk of a black moth he'd had a hard time acquiring. Still, as messengers of death went, it was one of the easier ones to use in a spell that would send the note where it needed to go.
He gives it three days before he keeps an eye out for a reply--and if there's no other special deliveries, he'll go dig up his little grave to see if anything came back through the same mystical channel of communication.
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Date: 2023-12-13 06:49 pm (UTC)Allow me to rephrase, Angel of the Grave.
I cannot answer their questions. I can only interfere enough to guard them from the worst harms. I am constrained by my masters and their plans for Eternity.
You have no such masters. And who am I but a psychopomp? I am but a mere lantern keeper to light the way to a soul's destination... How could my masters expect me to move against a god of death?
The message between the lines should be clear enough -- while Mister Keeper cannot defy whatever or whoever placed Chris in their situation, he will not stop the Shade from acting as he sees fit. As if he even could -- Mister Keeper is, after all, apparently below the Shade in power.
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Date: 2023-12-13 07:17 pm (UTC)What he wouldn't give for someone to punch.
He settles for fury, burying one final missive for this mysterious guide (and mysterious is almost enough to make the Shade say 'hell with it' and punch someone on principle) in the name of Chris's safety.
Then earn your reprieve from my wrath: next time you write me, you sign a damn name. What's more, you deliver a message to your masters for me, on account of you made a mistake in addressing me.
The benevolent protection of the Angel of the Grave don't apply here. The Black Dog is running beside Chris Freeman, and I'll tear at the throat of the Divine Himself in service of their welfare.
The one you call Eternity writes the law. If he accepts any claim I offer, they can cancel their fucking plans.
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Date: 2023-12-13 09:11 pm (UTC)So many names... Mine have been taken from me, and I am only Mister Keeper now. In other places, upon other paths, the same happened to Eternity. He forgot his name. Perhaps in this time, they will not.
Your message has been passed on. If the Black Dog would prefer, this throat can speak instead of being torn out. At least at first. Though physically manifesting where you are is currently beyond me, we will still be able to speak. By your leave.
--Mr. Keeper