Brooke’s reactions ranged from mirth at Miss Caoranach, something akin to swooning over Miss Laoise, speculation over Chief Brennan, awe for Miss Smith, concerned laughter for Miss Grimley, not much response for Mister Caxton, and curiosity for Miss Maeve. The older teen then proceeded to speculate if she could just drop in if she learned a fast travel spell. They had exited to the commons when they had run through the pictures.
“So that was Mothra, huh? The Queen of Monsters,” Brooke hummed, having separated from the other girl. Shifting her head, she thought about the last thing Drysi had said. “What’s my Master say ‘bout what? ‘bout Master Flynn? Not entirely sure ‘bout the specifics, but he did joke about asking him for a team-up mission one time.”
[The Keep] Walking to Skye
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“You’d think Ms. Caoranach would be a scary person,” commented Drysi, “and she is, but once you get used to her, you stop getting yourself in trouble sayin’ legally binding statements.”
As they made it into the commons, Drysi let her phone slide away into her bag and fell into step alongside Brooke. She brought her hand up to her mouth and yawned, realizing that she was getting tired again. After a few mental calculations, she realized she had zig-zagged forward, back, up, and down throughout Carneath today alone. The realization made her shoulders heavier.
“Team-up? I’ve only ever heard of my master workin’ with the Menagerie,” Drysi thought on that statement, and figured that there had to be at least a couple times Mr. Flynn would have needed to work with others. “That’d mean you and I would work together! Unless my Master decides to be a putz and leave me at home. No, most of the time, Mr. Flynn tends to work with people who have tried to kill him. Somethin’ about intimacy or knowin’ a person; not sure. My Master seems to be able to forgive anythin'.”
As they turned through another area, the phone came out again, the young Maelgwyn quickly summoned up another photo. This one of a buff, broad, shirtless Scandinavian man who was likely larger than any human Brooke had ever seen. He was holding the phone in a selfie in one hand and sitting on the other arm was Willow, who, in turn, was holding Drysi in a princess-carry. The background seemed to be of a wooded forest, set on the bank of a small stream.
“For example! This is Mr. Far-field. I never got to hear the details, but I’ve heard he and Mr. Flynn duked it out and it wasn’t pretty for anyone involved,” the Triclops walked backwards, showing Brooke the picture as they walked, “He’s a temp at the school. Had t’harass him to take this picture.”
As they made it into the commons, Drysi let her phone slide away into her bag and fell into step alongside Brooke. She brought her hand up to her mouth and yawned, realizing that she was getting tired again. After a few mental calculations, she realized she had zig-zagged forward, back, up, and down throughout Carneath today alone. The realization made her shoulders heavier.
“Team-up? I’ve only ever heard of my master workin’ with the Menagerie,” Drysi thought on that statement, and figured that there had to be at least a couple times Mr. Flynn would have needed to work with others. “That’d mean you and I would work together! Unless my Master decides to be a putz and leave me at home. No, most of the time, Mr. Flynn tends to work with people who have tried to kill him. Somethin’ about intimacy or knowin’ a person; not sure. My Master seems to be able to forgive anythin'.”
As they turned through another area, the phone came out again, the young Maelgwyn quickly summoned up another photo. This one of a buff, broad, shirtless Scandinavian man who was likely larger than any human Brooke had ever seen. He was holding the phone in a selfie in one hand and sitting on the other arm was Willow, who, in turn, was holding Drysi in a princess-carry. The background seemed to be of a wooded forest, set on the bank of a small stream.
“For example! This is Mr. Far-field. I never got to hear the details, but I’ve heard he and Mr. Flynn duked it out and it wasn’t pretty for anyone involved,” the Triclops walked backwards, showing Brooke the picture as they walked, “He’s a temp at the school. Had t’harass him to take this picture.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Ohoho. Y’should have Master Flynn tell ya some more stories sometime. At least, Chief Brennan likes sharing them,” a toothy grin grew on Brooke’s face that radiated I Know Something You Don’t energy following an appreciative whistle she’d given the picture of the giant of a man. “I guess in his early twenties he was in the American Southwest. Did a whole team-up with some druid from Montana or Minnesota or something plus a couple werewolves.”
The duo made their way into the galley, and were greeted by the rich scents of delicious foods wafting on the air; tonight’s keynote smell was distinctly citrusy with the shard scent of chilis. The galley was fuller than it had been the day prior, but still had plenty of open seating and a modestly sized line.
“Not terribly uncommon for Keepers to call on each other for big jobs. Although some just call on their apprentices, and in Master Flynn’s case he’s got the Menagerie at back,” Brooke spoke evenly, her tone almost educational. “He and Roan have also done some missions together, buuuuut I’m pretty sure one o’ them was just a front to get Master Flynn to go drink with him. But yeah, a team-up would be fun. Although it would likely be you two coming to New York rather than Master Cas an’ I heading to Japan. Think ya could handle big city druiding?”
The duo made their way into the galley, and were greeted by the rich scents of delicious foods wafting on the air; tonight’s keynote smell was distinctly citrusy with the shard scent of chilis. The galley was fuller than it had been the day prior, but still had plenty of open seating and a modestly sized line.
“Not terribly uncommon for Keepers to call on each other for big jobs. Although some just call on their apprentices, and in Master Flynn’s case he’s got the Menagerie at back,” Brooke spoke evenly, her tone almost educational. “He and Roan have also done some missions together, buuuuut I’m pretty sure one o’ them was just a front to get Master Flynn to go drink with him. But yeah, a team-up would be fun. Although it would likely be you two coming to New York rather than Master Cas an’ I heading to Japan. Think ya could handle big city druiding?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Pfft,” Drysi harrumphed, full of confidence and feeling the need to sound tough and in-the-know “Osaka is a big city.”
Ruarc’s apprentice chose to leave out that she didn’t go into the main parts of the city or leave the grounds very often. She was very much an inside cat, with her obsessions and work keeping her in her room and the cottage. Further, her experience with the wilds were limited with Safeholme’s own haven greens, made safe by Ruarc and Percival years ago.
“I’ve even been to America before; I went to Hawaii a month ago,” bragged the triclops, trying to focus on the conversation, and not the tangy, picante smell filling the hall.
A green shadow darted between shoes and boots plodding their way along to dinner. The small creature followed a familiar sensation, before catching Drysi’s ankle. She kept her stride as it coiled up her leg, and climbed up her body. With adept speed, it slithered up her frame and popped out of her shirt.
Gideon made one lap around Drysi’s neck to fully free himself and settle, putting one eye on Brooke.
”I sensed some excitement, what’s going on?”
“I’d love to go to New York!” Drysi agreed, enthusiastically.
The guide turned, so that now the other eye was facing Brooke.
”...What’s going on?”
Ruarc’s apprentice chose to leave out that she didn’t go into the main parts of the city or leave the grounds very often. She was very much an inside cat, with her obsessions and work keeping her in her room and the cottage. Further, her experience with the wilds were limited with Safeholme’s own haven greens, made safe by Ruarc and Percival years ago.
“I’ve even been to America before; I went to Hawaii a month ago,” bragged the triclops, trying to focus on the conversation, and not the tangy, picante smell filling the hall.
A green shadow darted between shoes and boots plodding their way along to dinner. The small creature followed a familiar sensation, before catching Drysi’s ankle. She kept her stride as it coiled up her leg, and climbed up her body. With adept speed, it slithered up her frame and popped out of her shirt.
Gideon made one lap around Drysi’s neck to fully free himself and settle, putting one eye on Brooke.
”I sensed some excitement, what’s going on?”
“I’d love to go to New York!” Drysi agreed, enthusiastically.
The guide turned, so that now the other eye was facing Brooke.
”...What’s going on?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
A slight hiss from Brooke sucking in air through her teeth was the older teens main response to the mention of Hawaii. The nature of the incident combined with the fact that druids had been involved with the tropical incident made the events a known event among the Keepers at Carneath. If Brooke had other things to say about the matter, it didn’t come up as the American found an opportunity to shift to a lighter conversation tree.
“I like the gumption, scout, but slow your roll,” Brooke laughed amiably at Drysi’s response, brushing over the fact that she had zero clue how big any Japanese city outside of Tokyo was; and even that was just categorized as Big. “That team-up biz was just a hypothetical. Tell ya what though, next time I get a call I’ll suggest calling you and Master Flynn. Outside of that its only likely to happen if Master Cas calls in the next twelve hours or so.”
By now the duo had entered the line and periodically stepping closer and closer to the window. All the while the smells were growing more pronounced. A sign board above the window displayed the daily specials.
“Oooooh, chicken piccata,” Brooke said with appreciation. It seemed the keynote meals for tonight were Italian. Accompanying them was jaeger schnitzel with braised cabbage, carnitas tacos with citrus salsa, and pad Thai with shrimp; as well as a bevy of sides, add-ons, and accompanying soups and salads. When they had reached the window, they were greeting by Rodney’s grinning face.
“G’evenin’ Miss Brooke. I trust ya brought y’ur usual appetite? What strikes y’ur fancy?” Rodney spoke with his usual familiarity.
“Evenin’ Chief. Slackin’ off here at the window?” Brooke returned the greeting with a joke and a wave, to which Rodney gave a hearty laugh. “But you called it. I’m starved. Gimme an order of the chicken piccata, coconut rice, and a bowl of zuppa. Oh! And, like, a dozen breadsticks.”
“Right away,” Rodney confirmed as he wrote the order and passed it along. His attention then turned to Drysi as the bugbear’s face lit up with another warm smile. “Ah! Miss Drysi! Good t’see you’ll be enjoyin’ another dinner with us. What strikes y’ur fancy tonight?”
“I like the gumption, scout, but slow your roll,” Brooke laughed amiably at Drysi’s response, brushing over the fact that she had zero clue how big any Japanese city outside of Tokyo was; and even that was just categorized as Big. “That team-up biz was just a hypothetical. Tell ya what though, next time I get a call I’ll suggest calling you and Master Flynn. Outside of that its only likely to happen if Master Cas calls in the next twelve hours or so.”
By now the duo had entered the line and periodically stepping closer and closer to the window. All the while the smells were growing more pronounced. A sign board above the window displayed the daily specials.
“Oooooh, chicken piccata,” Brooke said with appreciation. It seemed the keynote meals for tonight were Italian. Accompanying them was jaeger schnitzel with braised cabbage, carnitas tacos with citrus salsa, and pad Thai with shrimp; as well as a bevy of sides, add-ons, and accompanying soups and salads. When they had reached the window, they were greeting by Rodney’s grinning face.
“G’evenin’ Miss Brooke. I trust ya brought y’ur usual appetite? What strikes y’ur fancy?” Rodney spoke with his usual familiarity.
“Evenin’ Chief. Slackin’ off here at the window?” Brooke returned the greeting with a joke and a wave, to which Rodney gave a hearty laugh. “But you called it. I’m starved. Gimme an order of the chicken piccata, coconut rice, and a bowl of zuppa. Oh! And, like, a dozen breadsticks.”
“Right away,” Rodney confirmed as he wrote the order and passed it along. His attention then turned to Drysi as the bugbear’s face lit up with another warm smile. “Ah! Miss Drysi! Good t’see you’ll be enjoyin’ another dinner with us. What strikes y’ur fancy tonight?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
All of the gusto and raillery was infectious; Drysi’s fists bunched at her waist and then slowly moved up to her chin. She didn’t even know what she wanted, but she wanted to join in on the energy. Right as she opened her mouth, her second conscience spoke up.
”Drysi.”
Gideon’s voice was like a mint bath on the mind, cool and refreshing. Immediately, the triclops came down from her fervor, and began to turn red in the face as she realized she was up. She looked at Brooke, then to the options arrayed before her, and then back to Rodney. Her hands, now coiled into a bundle of fingers, worked their way back down to her waist as she swayed back and forth, paralyzed by the options.
“Good evenin’, Chief Rodney,” greeted Drysi, comforted by the bugbear’s welcoming demeanor, “Italian food is a little heavy… for me… Um…”
The acolyte looked back at the line behind her, and her anxiousness grew, putting a hand on her chest. She almost reached out reflexively to Brooke like she would have for Willow, but had to remind herself Willow wasn’t there.
”You’re pendulating; take a deep breath.”
And so Drysi did, and her heart rate dropped, “I want…”
”What do I want?”
Gideon and Drysi spoke as one, feeling him guide her to a selection.
“The Carnitas,” they requested, softly and just loudly enough to hear, with Drysi adding, “if you please.”
”Drysi.”
Gideon’s voice was like a mint bath on the mind, cool and refreshing. Immediately, the triclops came down from her fervor, and began to turn red in the face as she realized she was up. She looked at Brooke, then to the options arrayed before her, and then back to Rodney. Her hands, now coiled into a bundle of fingers, worked their way back down to her waist as she swayed back and forth, paralyzed by the options.
“Good evenin’, Chief Rodney,” greeted Drysi, comforted by the bugbear’s welcoming demeanor, “Italian food is a little heavy… for me… Um…”
The acolyte looked back at the line behind her, and her anxiousness grew, putting a hand on her chest. She almost reached out reflexively to Brooke like she would have for Willow, but had to remind herself Willow wasn’t there.
”You’re pendulating; take a deep breath.”
And so Drysi did, and her heart rate dropped, “I want…”
”What do I want?”
Gideon and Drysi spoke as one, feeling him guide her to a selection.
“The Carnitas,” they requested, softly and just loudly enough to hear, with Drysi adding, “if you please.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Coming right up,” the bugbear responded with the same warm smile. The order was passed along as Drysi shifted to stand by Brooke at the pick-up spot. Before too long Brooke’s order was handed over, the tray adorned with a plate of succulent chicken topped with an aromatic butter sauce, a crisp looking salad, a bowl of creamy and colorful soup, and a log stack of breadsticks. The American smelled the food with a dreamy look on her face as Drysi’s tray was passed over. Her own tray hosted a colorful plate of four caritas tacos on fresh corn tortillas, the meat looked like it had been slow cooked for the better part of a day but not soggy, topped with a vibrant pico de gallo made with fresh limes, and some crisp red slaw; to the side of the plate was a small dish of seasoned lime crema to counter any potential heat, as well as to add a complimentary flavor profile.
Food in hand, Brooke led the way to the drinks where she poured herself some ale from a pitcher. Waiting for Drysi to get a drink of her own, she then picked out a nearby table. Once sat, the American wasted little time in devouring a number of breadsticks.
Food in hand, Brooke led the way to the drinks where she poured herself some ale from a pitcher. Waiting for Drysi to get a drink of her own, she then picked out a nearby table. Once sat, the American wasted little time in devouring a number of breadsticks.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Positively encouraged, Drysi’s excitement began to build again as the food was arrayed out in front of her. Her smile became more than warm, it was bursting with delighted joy. With a grateful ‘thank you’, she bounced after Brooke, and stopped at the beverage machine. She looked at offerings, and watched Brooke pour a big glass of ale with envy. When it became her turn, she also stared at the Sixteen & Older offerings. She was seventeen, going on eighteen(next year), and she didn’t want to look like a kid, going for the apple juice again.
Gideon tilted his head, watching his druid move from reaching from the pitcher of cider to the wine. The trepidation was evident.
”Do you like wine?” he asked.
”I don’t know… I just know I don’t like beer.” Drysi answered, picking up a container of what looked like red liquid. It was a bordeaux, a vintage that was probably the comfort food of table wines, and an appreciable drink for someone who would understand it.
”Why are you drinking it, then?”
”Mind yer own business, Gid.”
With a quick, generous pour into a wine glass, Drysi carefully walked behind Brooke until they sat down. While her American counterpart began to satiate her hunger, the crafter looked around, missing the crowd from yesterday. This, probably, would be what everyday life would be like. Brooke’s company was not insufficient, but she found herself missing Goose, Satya, Lucia and even Vincent.
She took a sip of her wine, and suppressed an inherent revulsion of alcohol, her tongue trying to warn her of a poison that most people inured themselves to. Setting the glass down, she cleared her throat, and tried again, with similar results. The aftertaste wasn’t so bad, even if the underlying complexity was lost on Drysi’s untrained palate. She reached for the taco to continue her meal, taking a deep bite to clear her taste buds, before unknowingly enjoying a perfect pairing of wine and pork.
“Mmm,” Drysi’s eyes watered, and she cupped her jaw with a hand as she chewed. Once she swallowed she looked down at her meal, “How do they do that?”
The pairing would fade again, until Drysi would brave her wine once more, and they continued on in silence until the triclops felt the need to speak.
“Are your folks okay with you bein’ in the more…” Drysi spoke before swallowing, “militant part of the order?”
Gideon tilted his head, watching his druid move from reaching from the pitcher of cider to the wine. The trepidation was evident.
”Do you like wine?” he asked.
”I don’t know… I just know I don’t like beer.” Drysi answered, picking up a container of what looked like red liquid. It was a bordeaux, a vintage that was probably the comfort food of table wines, and an appreciable drink for someone who would understand it.
”Why are you drinking it, then?”
”Mind yer own business, Gid.”
With a quick, generous pour into a wine glass, Drysi carefully walked behind Brooke until they sat down. While her American counterpart began to satiate her hunger, the crafter looked around, missing the crowd from yesterday. This, probably, would be what everyday life would be like. Brooke’s company was not insufficient, but she found herself missing Goose, Satya, Lucia and even Vincent.
She took a sip of her wine, and suppressed an inherent revulsion of alcohol, her tongue trying to warn her of a poison that most people inured themselves to. Setting the glass down, she cleared her throat, and tried again, with similar results. The aftertaste wasn’t so bad, even if the underlying complexity was lost on Drysi’s untrained palate. She reached for the taco to continue her meal, taking a deep bite to clear her taste buds, before unknowingly enjoying a perfect pairing of wine and pork.
“Mmm,” Drysi’s eyes watered, and she cupped her jaw with a hand as she chewed. Once she swallowed she looked down at her meal, “How do they do that?”
The pairing would fade again, until Drysi would brave her wine once more, and they continued on in silence until the triclops felt the need to speak.
“Are your folks okay with you bein’ in the more…” Drysi spoke before swallowing, “militant part of the order?”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Couldn’t say. Ain’t talked t’them since I was… eight?” Brooke answered, her tones was rather matter-of-fact despite the topic and a mouthful of bread. “Aunt raised me. As for her thoughts, she’s unaware; well, kinda. She one of them normal types. Didda good ‘nough job raising, all things considered. But I wassa rebellious little turd. Made her life a bit of a nightmare. After almost getting’ offed by a gremlin and meeting Master Cas I got hit by self-realization. Started to be less of a turd, and once I saw the opportunity to come here, I took it. Told Auntie I was dropping out of high school, joining a pretty cool band, and getting out of her hair a couple years earlier than expected; but most importantly to her, that I was safe and happy. Still drop by her place whenever I’m back in the Bronx.”
Unphased by the subject matter, Brooke kept on munching away nonchalantly.
“Hows about’chu?” the American asked, using a half-eaten breadstick to point at Drysi. “Y’r folks chill wit’chu training wit’ a Keeper like Master Flynn? Sure ‘e’s pretty bookish, what wit’ ‘is glasses an’ such; but even I’s gotta admit ‘e’s got ‘imself a bit of a reputation even in the broader magic community.”
Unphased by the subject matter, Brooke kept on munching away nonchalantly.
“Hows about’chu?” the American asked, using a half-eaten breadstick to point at Drysi. “Y’r folks chill wit’chu training wit’ a Keeper like Master Flynn? Sure ‘e’s pretty bookish, what wit’ ‘is glasses an’ such; but even I’s gotta admit ‘e’s got ‘imself a bit of a reputation even in the broader magic community.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Drysi stared down at her plate, very much phased by the subject matter. She had forgotten that a lot of mages were like Willow, a product of completely mundane parents. That was the whole story about Kagami Miyuki, but at least Kagami Miyuki had parents. Brooke had an aunt, because much like some kids in the world, not everyone got loving parents, either. A vague sense of imposter syndrome began to rise in the back of her mind, as she considered her own situation, her own past.
Trying to buy herself a little time, Drysi took another drink of her wine, fully distracted from the bitter alcoholic undertones.
“Mum and Da? They’re fine. Oh... I suppose I should also... Uh... To begin...” started the acolyte trepidatiously, “I... wasn’t the best child either. My Ma was a papyromancer; defenders of knowledge before the internet came ‘round. My Da… He was an Inheritor of Cardiff before he quit tha’ order. My gram was tha’ worse half of that dark relationship, but I wanted t’... follow in her footsteps. Da didn’ want me doin’ magic outside the house, period, wanted me to work at the paper shop. Grow up a normal, three-eyed girl. So, I ran away from home to join… to study blo– forbidden magicks. Twice. That didn’t work. So they moved t’Japan t’be as far from my Gram’s influence as possible. That didn’t work. I studied forbidden magicks anyway, got possessed by her hateful revenant, and now… I’m flingin’ runes on paper, thanks to Ruarc Flynn.”
She made little pew pew noises and some paper napkins went flying from the table up off her fingers as she gave a nervous smile. Then, she tugged at the edge of her mouth to show her fangs, “I’ve ga’h sharp teef for tha’ rest of m’life now..."
That less-than-secret shared, she carefully pulled her shawl up to hide her deformity.
“...but I’m alive. As far as Mum and Da are concerned, my Master is as safe as houses. My folks were his biggest supporters after tha’ whole Hawaii incident when a group of parents wanted t’have him ousted. My mum told me recently that she told my Master what I was gettin’ into, and he still kept me around, even before he knew me. If not for him, I’d probably be some mince-meat cultist. Dead probably; or worse. My family owes him a lot, and he’s asked for nothin’.”
Drysi took a bite of another taco, wondering why Gideon never chimed into to check her in these moments, “All that to say: anythin’ Master Flynn could get up to isn’t any worse than what I woulda got myself inta’, is all.”
Trying to buy herself a little time, Drysi took another drink of her wine, fully distracted from the bitter alcoholic undertones.
“Mum and Da? They’re fine. Oh... I suppose I should also... Uh... To begin...” started the acolyte trepidatiously, “I... wasn’t the best child either. My Ma was a papyromancer; defenders of knowledge before the internet came ‘round. My Da… He was an Inheritor of Cardiff before he quit tha’ order. My gram was tha’ worse half of that dark relationship, but I wanted t’... follow in her footsteps. Da didn’ want me doin’ magic outside the house, period, wanted me to work at the paper shop. Grow up a normal, three-eyed girl. So, I ran away from home to join… to study blo– forbidden magicks. Twice. That didn’t work. So they moved t’Japan t’be as far from my Gram’s influence as possible. That didn’t work. I studied forbidden magicks anyway, got possessed by her hateful revenant, and now… I’m flingin’ runes on paper, thanks to Ruarc Flynn.”
She made little pew pew noises and some paper napkins went flying from the table up off her fingers as she gave a nervous smile. Then, she tugged at the edge of her mouth to show her fangs, “I’ve ga’h sharp teef for tha’ rest of m’life now..."
That less-than-secret shared, she carefully pulled her shawl up to hide her deformity.
“...but I’m alive. As far as Mum and Da are concerned, my Master is as safe as houses. My folks were his biggest supporters after tha’ whole Hawaii incident when a group of parents wanted t’have him ousted. My mum told me recently that she told my Master what I was gettin’ into, and he still kept me around, even before he knew me. If not for him, I’d probably be some mince-meat cultist. Dead probably; or worse. My family owes him a lot, and he’s asked for nothin’.”
Drysi took a bite of another taco, wondering why Gideon never chimed into to check her in these moments, “All that to say: anythin’ Master Flynn could get up to isn’t any worse than what I woulda got myself inta’, is all.”