[The Keep] Walking to Skye
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Up to you. Normally one would just leave the dish, and then either Ma or Anne will take it to the sink in the back. That said, you’re plenty welcome to head on back and drop them off if you feel like helping out,” Ruarc explained as he was working on the last bits of his own meal. Maeve was pacing her meal, seeming to bask a bit in the ambience of the Irish public house. In fact, for that matter, both of the adults with Drysi seemed nostalgic; with Ruarc appearing to have taken a metaphorical load off of his shoulders. Even if just briefly, Ruarc was able to take off his mantle as a Keeper, as well as his duties as an administrator, while here at the Inn.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“I don’t want to not help out,” Drysi said to her nearly clean plate, understanding that this was more like eating at someone’s house versus eating at a restaurant. Saoirse did mention that she’d be getting the food ready for her. It just so happened that where she was eating was also a place of business. She waffled back and forth, before giving up and determined she’d rather be awkward than rude.
“I’ll get goin’ then, I think I’d like to do a little journallin’ before we get started tomorrow,” admitted the Apprentice, casting a glance at Ruarc and Maeve as she said her farewells. She paused for a moment, as something struck her in their mannerisms. For a brief second, the age difference was gone, as were the positions of status and authority.
Maeve and Ruarc looked like they could have been any one of her other friends. It was as if she could’ve swapped them out for Willow or Johann, and it would’ve been fine. The vibe would have been the same and it was hard to tell if that was comforting or not.
Drysi then toddled off, processing fresh, extraneous information in her mind as she came short of the doorway to the kitchen. She hesitated, but eventually pushed in, making her goal to find a place to drop of her plate, or at least emit enough body language to indicate that’s what she wanted to do.
“I’ll get goin’ then, I think I’d like to do a little journallin’ before we get started tomorrow,” admitted the Apprentice, casting a glance at Ruarc and Maeve as she said her farewells. She paused for a moment, as something struck her in their mannerisms. For a brief second, the age difference was gone, as were the positions of status and authority.
Maeve and Ruarc looked like they could have been any one of her other friends. It was as if she could’ve swapped them out for Willow or Johann, and it would’ve been fine. The vibe would have been the same and it was hard to tell if that was comforting or not.
Drysi then toddled off, processing fresh, extraneous information in her mind as she came short of the doorway to the kitchen. She hesitated, but eventually pushed in, making her goal to find a place to drop of her plate, or at least emit enough body language to indicate that’s what she wanted to do.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
As Drysi walked through an open doorway and turned down a short hall; the end of which opened into what appeared to be the kitchen. At least, it sounded, and smelled, like the kitchen. The pub had already smelled of rich stews and roasting meats, but the short hall dampened the scents a remarkable amount; which Drysi could now smell unaltered. Herbs, garlic, and yeasty baking breads joined the array of scents wafting through the air.
Poking her head through the doorway, Drysi saw a rather traditional looking kitchen and Miss Saoirse dishing up a steak with what looked to be roasted sweet potato wedges, and a slice of cake. The kitchen looked much as how it would have when serving patrons almost a century ago, right down to the wood burning oven; and Miss Saoirse fit the scene fantastically, conjuring in Drysi’s mind the old concept of a kitchen witch. The matron looked up and saw the new arrival, and offered the Welsh girl a warm motherly smile.
“Well now, aren’t ye just a wee gem of a lass? Ye can be settin' the dishes in th' sink over in th' corner,” Saoirse gestured to a double sink where a young lad a bit younger than Drysi was doing dishes. “How'd ye fancy th' meal?”
Poking her head through the doorway, Drysi saw a rather traditional looking kitchen and Miss Saoirse dishing up a steak with what looked to be roasted sweet potato wedges, and a slice of cake. The kitchen looked much as how it would have when serving patrons almost a century ago, right down to the wood burning oven; and Miss Saoirse fit the scene fantastically, conjuring in Drysi’s mind the old concept of a kitchen witch. The matron looked up and saw the new arrival, and offered the Welsh girl a warm motherly smile.
“Well now, aren’t ye just a wee gem of a lass? Ye can be settin' the dishes in th' sink over in th' corner,” Saoirse gestured to a double sink where a young lad a bit younger than Drysi was doing dishes. “How'd ye fancy th' meal?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“I’d ask for more, but my head is as full as my stomach,” was Drysi’s answer, feeling cheery in Saorise’s presence, tacking on, “honestly, if I’ve been good about anything this trip it’s eating. The last meal I had was made by three-star chefs, and I feel like you wouldn’t be out of place among’m.”
The apprentice took great care around the dish-washer, feeling a bit dissonant in her age. Something about someone at work always made them seem older than when you weren’t working. She waited for an open moment and deftly slid the plate into the working side. Feeling a bit awkward, she tried to say thank you in something that sounded more like a mumbled apology, before turning around and slipping.
She went straight to the floor, a rats nest of tumbling arms. Her hands braced her fall, nearly busting one of her knees. It'd all be so terrible if it didn't smell so good in there.
“Ahah, too much,” embarrassed and red in the face, she tried to ease herself up and see herself out, “too much to drink… or something…”
The apprentice took great care around the dish-washer, feeling a bit dissonant in her age. Something about someone at work always made them seem older than when you weren’t working. She waited for an open moment and deftly slid the plate into the working side. Feeling a bit awkward, she tried to say thank you in something that sounded more like a mumbled apology, before turning around and slipping.
She went straight to the floor, a rats nest of tumbling arms. Her hands braced her fall, nearly busting one of her knees. It'd all be so terrible if it didn't smell so good in there.
“Ahah, too much,” embarrassed and red in the face, she tried to ease herself up and see herself out, “too much to drink… or something…”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Drysi would find that no sooner had she hit the ground than the lad who had been dutifully scrubbing dishes had doffed his dish gloves and knelt to help her up. The lad, when better viewed, still looked to be in his teenage years, but his features also had distinctly elven characteristics as some of his blond hair shifted. Once the triclops was back on her feet, he gave her a nod and went back to work.
Saoirse regarded the entire display with a cocked eyebrow and curious expression. Picking up the tray she was dishing up, the matron carried it to a small window that opened out into the bar. Hands now free she turned and pulled out a rag before the teen girl could escape. She began wiping at a couple spots on Drysi’s clothes and straightening the girl’s hair.
“Stay right here,” Saoirse spoke plainly and then turned and washed her hands. Pulling out a nice cloth and on it she sat a personal sized loaf of fresh brown bread, a decent sized wedge of cheese, and a cheese knife; before tying the cloth in a tidy little to-go bag. Returning to Drysi, she gave the girl the snack pack, patted her on the head, and sent her on her way.
Saoirse regarded the entire display with a cocked eyebrow and curious expression. Picking up the tray she was dishing up, the matron carried it to a small window that opened out into the bar. Hands now free she turned and pulled out a rag before the teen girl could escape. She began wiping at a couple spots on Drysi’s clothes and straightening the girl’s hair.
“Stay right here,” Saoirse spoke plainly and then turned and washed her hands. Pulling out a nice cloth and on it she sat a personal sized loaf of fresh brown bread, a decent sized wedge of cheese, and a cheese knife; before tying the cloth in a tidy little to-go bag. Returning to Drysi, she gave the girl the snack pack, patted her on the head, and sent her on her way.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
There were few people on the Earth that could have been more red in the face than Drysi Maelgwyn. She hadn’t much to say in her defense as the dishwasher helped her up, only meekly offering a thank you. Looking like a spaz in front of Mr. Flynn’s mother was not her favorite, but she waited dutifully for her little care package. She received it gratefully, but helped herself out of the kitchen, very quickly padding her way back to the hall and to the stairs.
She turned back to yelp a “Thank you!” to Saorise before returning the stairs even faster. There was no time to be alone sooner than now.
Thwap! The door shut hard, and she fiddled with whatever lock she could to ensure her privacy, before slapping her hand at the door.
“What is wrong with you?” Drysi spat at her feet, kicking her feet, no, throwing her feet to kick her boots off. She clawed at the laces and flung them to the other end of the room, cursing her awkwardness. Nearly stumbling again, she lost all sense of a temper. The pack tumbled to the ground, thankfully still being mostly wrapped, as Drysi threw her limbs in silent screams.
Then she picked up her pillow, shoved her face into it, and made them real screams. She spent about ten minutes screaming into that pillow, pacing back and forth in her room. Sometimes it was incoherent gibbering, sometimes it was a flurry of curses, and sometimes it was one of her recent failings. As she began to come down, she realized she was still a bit hungry, and snapped up the bread, biting off a chunk and doing the same to the cheese.
She fumed, her eyes red, her face red, her throat sore, but the taste of bread and cheese in her mouth stayed in her mind. Her brain swung so far in the other direction, she nearly fell over dead asleep. Instead she fell flat onto her back staring at the ceiling, still trying to manage the huge portions of bread and cheese she had animalistically tore away.
Gideon, who had spent this time resting on another pillow, slithered over to check on his druid.
”Do you feel better?”
Drysi nodded slowly, her eyes still staring up. She waited for him to remind her about how mastering her emotions was important for someone of her kind, but the critique didn’t come. Instead, he just watched her. After she managed to swallow, she looked at him finally, her eyes turning where her head didn’t.
”Gid, what’s wrong with me? Why are my feet so stupid?”
”You’re overwhelmed. Your world has changed so much in the last two days, and you haven’t let yourself process the changes. I think… For you… That step is more important than it is for most people. You may have not processed even everything that has happened since Hawaii… since before… me”
Drysi stared at her familiar for a while, not offering much in reply, before reaching for the cheese knife, then the bread, and then the cheese. She laid there on the floor, cutting off slices of the wedge and folding them into chunks of bread. As she chewed, she tugged out the note from Willow, and read it a few times as she worked her way through her snacks.
There was no doubt that she had things to worry about. The machinations of the Circle, the threat of Alexei and what he was doing with the spirit of her gram, the dangers of being so close to Mr. Flynn, the terrible vision that placed her at the destructive future of the order, and all of that taking place aside her new life. When it was all laid out, it became easy to understand her own apprehension, it bubbled warmly under her skin.
With a deep yearning, she pressed the message to her chest, and began to reflect on what had happened actually happened. Not the heavy things, but the recent things. With every new cut of bread and cheese she thought about the people she met at Carneath, what she had tried to do, the things she had learned and the things she had achieved. The more she thought of it, the more content she felt, the more real this little side-trip felt, and the more deserving she felt of its warmth and attention.
She felt around for the cheese knife one more time, before her eyes fell shut, and she drifted off into a restful, mindless and centered sleep.
She turned back to yelp a “Thank you!” to Saorise before returning the stairs even faster. There was no time to be alone sooner than now.
Thwap! The door shut hard, and she fiddled with whatever lock she could to ensure her privacy, before slapping her hand at the door.
“What is wrong with you?” Drysi spat at her feet, kicking her feet, no, throwing her feet to kick her boots off. She clawed at the laces and flung them to the other end of the room, cursing her awkwardness. Nearly stumbling again, she lost all sense of a temper. The pack tumbled to the ground, thankfully still being mostly wrapped, as Drysi threw her limbs in silent screams.
Then she picked up her pillow, shoved her face into it, and made them real screams. She spent about ten minutes screaming into that pillow, pacing back and forth in her room. Sometimes it was incoherent gibbering, sometimes it was a flurry of curses, and sometimes it was one of her recent failings. As she began to come down, she realized she was still a bit hungry, and snapped up the bread, biting off a chunk and doing the same to the cheese.
She fumed, her eyes red, her face red, her throat sore, but the taste of bread and cheese in her mouth stayed in her mind. Her brain swung so far in the other direction, she nearly fell over dead asleep. Instead she fell flat onto her back staring at the ceiling, still trying to manage the huge portions of bread and cheese she had animalistically tore away.
Gideon, who had spent this time resting on another pillow, slithered over to check on his druid.
”Do you feel better?”
Drysi nodded slowly, her eyes still staring up. She waited for him to remind her about how mastering her emotions was important for someone of her kind, but the critique didn’t come. Instead, he just watched her. After she managed to swallow, she looked at him finally, her eyes turning where her head didn’t.
”Gid, what’s wrong with me? Why are my feet so stupid?”
”You’re overwhelmed. Your world has changed so much in the last two days, and you haven’t let yourself process the changes. I think… For you… That step is more important than it is for most people. You may have not processed even everything that has happened since Hawaii… since before… me”
Drysi stared at her familiar for a while, not offering much in reply, before reaching for the cheese knife, then the bread, and then the cheese. She laid there on the floor, cutting off slices of the wedge and folding them into chunks of bread. As she chewed, she tugged out the note from Willow, and read it a few times as she worked her way through her snacks.
There was no doubt that she had things to worry about. The machinations of the Circle, the threat of Alexei and what he was doing with the spirit of her gram, the dangers of being so close to Mr. Flynn, the terrible vision that placed her at the destructive future of the order, and all of that taking place aside her new life. When it was all laid out, it became easy to understand her own apprehension, it bubbled warmly under her skin.
With a deep yearning, she pressed the message to her chest, and began to reflect on what had happened actually happened. Not the heavy things, but the recent things. With every new cut of bread and cheese she thought about the people she met at Carneath, what she had tried to do, the things she had learned and the things she had achieved. The more she thought of it, the more content she felt, the more real this little side-trip felt, and the more deserving she felt of its warmth and attention.
She felt around for the cheese knife one more time, before her eyes fell shut, and she drifted off into a restful, mindless and centered sleep.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Drysi felt cool accompanied with a crisp sense of fresh renewal. As wakening grew over the triclops’ senses she found herself shivering in the brisk air of the early Irish morning air that drifted into the open window of the girl’s room. Bird song accompanied the dawning wakefulness along with the bustle of rural townsend. Her bed felt particularly inviting, and the quilted sheets incredibly accommodating towards the yearning for continued rest. Drifting up on the wind was the pleasing scent of fresh baked goods and rendering fats. A peek at her phone told of the bright eyed and bushy tailed hour of seven hours ante meridiem, and Drsyi found herself at the fulcrum between waking up early, and sleep in later.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Ireland’s chill caused Drysi to shiver as she slowly turned over, pressing her legs together to give her some more warmth. Her feet felt like ice, and she immediately started rubbing them together as if she were trying to start some sort of fire. Gideon was curled tightly against her, soaking what little warmth radiated from her. Brittle triclopsi bones creaked as she began to sit up, and she unlocked the door, and looked outside briefly to check for any waiting persons. Assured, she closed the door, and picked up the half-eaten loaf of bread, hunched over herself. Her eyes felt dry as did her mouth, now further dried by a bite of bread taken straight from the loaf.
She needed to get started with her day, mentally prepare herself for the long day ahead. The bed was inviting, but she turned her head, looking at her things.
Then, she looked back at the bed, a hug on a wooden frame. She hadn’t slept in a bed for the last couple of days, and she was starting to feel it in her shoulders. Drysi shook her head, it was already too late to go back to bed, someone would be coming any minute to check on her and get started.
A glance down to her pale toes reminded her how cold she was, though, and the quilt looked quite warm. She determined that, after another bite of bread, she would lay down in the bed and warm up. Then she’d go find some socks, and get her things together. Gideon seemed to agree, coiling on to her leg as she pulled the covers back to slide into them.
Again, she worked the fire with her feet, and tucked her knees, shivering. Gideon curled up to her chest, and Drysi turned her head to look at the window. She blinked, trying to form a game plan for the day.
She blinked again, then didn’t open her eyes—the bed ferrying her off to sleep.
She needed to get started with her day, mentally prepare herself for the long day ahead. The bed was inviting, but she turned her head, looking at her things.
Then, she looked back at the bed, a hug on a wooden frame. She hadn’t slept in a bed for the last couple of days, and she was starting to feel it in her shoulders. Drysi shook her head, it was already too late to go back to bed, someone would be coming any minute to check on her and get started.
A glance down to her pale toes reminded her how cold she was, though, and the quilt looked quite warm. She determined that, after another bite of bread, she would lay down in the bed and warm up. Then she’d go find some socks, and get her things together. Gideon seemed to agree, coiling on to her leg as she pulled the covers back to slide into them.
Again, she worked the fire with her feet, and tucked her knees, shivering. Gideon curled up to her chest, and Drysi turned her head to look at the window. She blinked, trying to form a game plan for the day.
She blinked again, then didn’t open her eyes—the bed ferrying her off to sleep.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
When Drysi next awoke, the air had grown comfortably warm but with a faint tinge of petrichor on the gentle breeze that hinted at possible rain later in the day. As she began to move she found she had woken into the golden state of wakefulness where every motion felt fantastic. The covers of the bed felt cozy and beckoned her to rest longer as the sounds of the world outside drifted in with the breeze. Birds, the occasional trundling truck, and townsfolk visiting suggested the world beyond the window was well underway; she also felt like she could hear something swishing through the air occasionally. Checking her phone, Drysi now found the time to be half past ten in the morning.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
An alert wakefulness tugged Drysi from restorative slumber. With a deep inhale, she stretched her legs, tugging the covers in close to her chest. Her mind sluggishly adapted to the day, taking in the sun from the window, watching the passing world outside. She couldn’t recall the last time she had slept in late, or even allowed herself the luxury of lingering in bed.
Her eyes wandered, spotted Willow’s note on the floor, among other detritus from her tantrum. She curled up the blanket around herself, wormed down to the message and picked it up. Relishing her peaceful state of mind Drysi poured over Willow’s handwriting a couple more times. A pale thumb pressed over the dried ink.
It felt nice to get a handwritten message, Drysi determined to tell Willow that the next time she saw her.
”Ready?” Gideon’s head popped out from the bundle of covers Drysi kept over herself. His druid folded up the paper in her hand and guided it through the air to her bag. She stood, and took a deep breath.
“For the first time in a long time.”
After a quick clean up of her room, Drysi gathered her things and donned all her gear. She closed the door after her, pausing to open it again to ensure she hadn’t left anything. Once it was closed for sure, she toddled to the main hall to look for Mr. Flynn.
Her eyes wandered, spotted Willow’s note on the floor, among other detritus from her tantrum. She curled up the blanket around herself, wormed down to the message and picked it up. Relishing her peaceful state of mind Drysi poured over Willow’s handwriting a couple more times. A pale thumb pressed over the dried ink.
It felt nice to get a handwritten message, Drysi determined to tell Willow that the next time she saw her.
”Ready?” Gideon’s head popped out from the bundle of covers Drysi kept over herself. His druid folded up the paper in her hand and guided it through the air to her bag. She stood, and took a deep breath.
“For the first time in a long time.”
After a quick clean up of her room, Drysi gathered her things and donned all her gear. She closed the door after her, pausing to open it again to ensure she hadn’t left anything. Once it was closed for sure, she toddled to the main hall to look for Mr. Flynn.