Age Old Advice (Seasonal Post)

[turningcolors]

A mist has settled over the Nexus this morning.

The fog billows and wisps, keeping destinations hidden from view. Muffling the noise of the plaza, stifling everything into a feeling of bleak isolation. Those who persevere will find a warm orange glow drawing them near. At either end of the Plaza--one near the sprawling parks close to the Wilds and the other closer to the beginnings of the urban sprawl--are two oasis from the creeping cold and mists. Hazel has taken the flame from the bonfire she lit at the Equinox that has burned steadily ever since and spread it out among several torches making up the perimeter of these areas now. The bonfire is long gone, but these two areas remain. When she came into the season she was a roaring blaze. So much to prove. With her place cemented here, she has gotten down to her actual work.

The Autumn spirit is seated on a bench in one of the torch lit circles holding a conversation with a person that's difficult to make out. IN fact, when someone approaches, they will find it's a spirit she is cavorting with. After only a few seconds the figure dissolves into the selfsame mist people have sought out these places to escape from. Hazel turns to her new audience.

"If you could talk to a lost loved one just once more, who would you want to see? What advice would you ask from a loved one deigning to cross the veil to see you?"


((Anyone who chooses to participate may choose to either speak to Hazel in general about the question she's posing or if the player is so inclined Hazel will conjure up the spirit of a lost loved one to speak to your character. Please DM me in DW or discord if you choose to have a loved one appear so we can hash out what you want to do. Curses and Blessings are still available as well. Happy Day of the Dead, folks ;) ))

Comments

[coldsong]

He stays where he is, kneeling, humbled not by Hazel or even by Autumn, but by Mother. Which is, in a sense, a related concept. He's forgotten his normal illusion isn't quite there, too, so he's still red and cobalt under the translucent peach fleshtone and the ice-green eyes. It's an odd effect, but no doubt she's seen odder.

He watches her without fear, resigned to whatever reaction she's going to have to this. His intentions have clearly gone far awry, but she can't justly blame him. He didn't even ask. He nods slowly at her and gives a shaky sigh, letting his hands drop loose in his lap. He needs time to recover, and he probably won't get much.

"That was my mother," he tells her, by way of explanation. "I would have died before asking to speak to her. But she's always known me better than I know myself. Thank you."

"If you have wrath to dispense, kindly focus it on me." That sounds a little grudging--he doesn't want to be cursed--but he's not sure whether she's capable of putting the smack down on a spirit and he wouldn't want anything to disturb Frigga's rest.

[turningcolors]

She watches Loki for a moment but says nothing as a soft breeze drags the mist to and fro out beyond the ring of torches. It's gone quiet now. Frigga's departure or perhaps her being here at all has silenced all of the other spirits who may have wanted a word with one Loki Odinson.

"We agree not to speak of this. I, of your mother or what transpired here. And you, of my powers being wrested from me by a ghost."

[coldsong]

He's clearly surprised by her bargain, but after a blink and a slow, thoughtful tilt of his head, he breaks into a smile.

"Oh," he says, "very much agreed."

He feeds some of his energies back into the half-there illusion, restoring the color of his skin and eyes to something less unearthly and reminiscent of winter. "And I will recommend to Thor that he mind his manners. Neither of us are good at admitting when we are outmatched, but I am somewhat more accustomed to being humbled than he."

[turningcolors]

Good.

An accord reached within one of Hazel's safe spaces. Where Autumn can hold witness. Hazel feels less nervous now. If it is broken she will know, though if it breaks out of season there will be nothing she can do about it until the next fall comes. For the moment, however, it satisfies her enough that Loki isn't going to go encouraging everyone to demand time with the strongest spirits they can find.

Her duty is to the dead, but that was...more than she'd bargained for.

"I would appreciate it. May the winds be ever at your back, Loki."

[coldsong]

No, really, he thinks it's a fair trade. He doesn't particularly want it that conversation to be known about to anyone. There was so much in it that was brutally personal, not to mention the fact that he's not a fan of showing off his Jotun skin.

Will he keep the incident in mind, in case he has to turn it to his favor later? Of course. But he's too wiped out by it to come up with anything clever just now.

He takes a deep breath, to all appearances utterly relieved, and stands. He bows, and it still shows, how he's a bit shaken up. "Particularly when I'm leaving your vicinity, I assume?"

It's a weak joke, possibly ill-advised, and he hastens to leave once it's spoken, pausing at the edge of the clearing for one last somber farewell nod.