T H E ✦ C R O W ' S ✦ N E S T
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You've walked past that old antique shop a hundred times and it's never been open. In fact, you don't think you've ever seen anyone inside. But tonight! Well, tonight the door is propped ajar. A wooden sign swings above it and a soft light emanates from within. Seems like the precursor to a horror movie, but it's just cold enough to risk it. Halloween's a cool night to die on, anyways. The warped wooden floor creaks underfoot. You get the sense that everything here is just slightly crooked. Kind of feels like vertigo. The shop is floor-to-ceiling clutter-- shelves crammed with books, antiques on precarious angles. There's the muffled ticking of multiple clocks. Most curiously, you don't see a shopkeep. But there's a bird. A big, black crow perched on top of the cash register. It's watching you. What do you do? |
I'm a slow replier blease have mercy on me ✦ ain't gotten around to this halloween event before
((Sonder is a character who is a little out of his normal time/space here, but this looked like a lovely invitation for him, and he insisted.))
The man was drawn to the antique shop, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he understood why. Maybe the owner of the shoppe could help him, and teach him how to unravel the curse which separated him from his twin brother. Bewitched by an old völva to always be a raven during the day, and a man during the night, Endre was beginning to resemble a true familiar. The brothers often spent long nights talking and Sonder was unceasingly looking for a cure. He was also somewhat afraid of the other being forever changed by the curse, since the more time he spent forced in his raven form, the wilder he seemed to become. Sonder often found him to be impulsive, immature and selfish, and less able to devise a long-term strategy and stick to it. Or, maybe, as the years passed and Sonder matured and interacted with people, his brother had not.
"Well met, my friend." His voice sounded a little raspy, as if he had spent entire days in silence. His attire could have passed for a Halloween costume, even if it was not; furs and leather, and tangle of long wild hair who hadn't been tamed in months. Cautiously approaching the crow, Sonder opened his palms, to show that his intentions were peaceful. "In this night of nights, when magic is still strong and powerful, would you help a traveler?" Now, anyone else may have been surprised at this behavior (or wondered if the man chose to portray a mad prophet for Halloween) but Sonder, who could himself become a raven whenever he wished it, had learned to look beyond appearances. There was a man, there, a shaman like himself, and maybe one strong or knowledgeable enough to help him, if he so wished.
The man was drawn to the antique shop, and as soon as he crossed the threshold, he understood why. Maybe the owner of the shoppe could help him, and teach him how to unravel the curse which separated him from his twin brother. Bewitched by an old völva to always be a raven during the day, and a man during the night, Endre was beginning to resemble a true familiar. The brothers often spent long nights talking and Sonder was unceasingly looking for a cure. He was also somewhat afraid of the other being forever changed by the curse, since the more time he spent forced in his raven form, the wilder he seemed to become. Sonder often found him to be impulsive, immature and selfish, and less able to devise a long-term strategy and stick to it. Or, maybe, as the years passed and Sonder matured and interacted with people, his brother had not.
"Well met, my friend." His voice sounded a little raspy, as if he had spent entire days in silence. His attire could have passed for a Halloween costume, even if it was not; furs and leather, and tangle of long wild hair who hadn't been tamed in months. Cautiously approaching the crow, Sonder opened his palms, to show that his intentions were peaceful. "In this night of nights, when magic is still strong and powerful, would you help a traveler?" Now, anyone else may have been surprised at this behavior (or wondered if the man chose to portray a mad prophet for Halloween) but Sonder, who could himself become a raven whenever he wished it, had learned to look beyond appearances. There was a man, there, a shaman like himself, and maybe one strong or knowledgeable enough to help him, if he so wished.
Sonder wrote:
The crow's feathers fluffed themselves as if a forcefield against the approaching man. It didn't work. Nobody was afraid of corvids anymore-- no respect. It stared at Sonder for a long moment, then opened its beak and spoke.
"Oh. Oh, I see," it said in a pantomime of a human voice. "A little lost, are we?"
He hopped down from the old cash register, accidentally punching in a sale for twenty dollars, and squawked as the drawer flew open.
"Jesus Mary and- okay. Okay, sorry."
Ruffling his feathers down, he strutted across the counter to Sonder. "And what is it I can help you find, hm?"
This new customer felt like a walking, living curse, but it was decidedly business-losing to say such things. For once the crow kept his beak shut.
((Since this is a shop, multiple characters can wander in! I'll just break up responses with quotes.))
The crow stared at him and spoke. Sonder's eyes widened involuntarily in surprise. He could become a raven, certainly, but to speak as other than a human seemed to him incredible. Unbelievable. A feat of magic like he had never seen before. He stared back in silence, almost not noticing the crow's mishap with the weird contraption in the shop. "And what is it I can help you find?" It took a long moment for the shaman to gather his wits and respond. Surely, the creature of front of him, be it man or woman or something else, was powerful enough to break the curse, if it could speak as a crow.
He reached into his satchel, thankful that he had carried gold, and took out a handful of pieces. "My brother was cursed. A cure. I can pay, or I can assist with a task, if my gold isn't valuable here." Sonder wasn't really sure where here was, just that it was a different world entirely from what he was used to. "I can do some magic, and cast the Runes to see into what is, although it's really the Gods who inspire me." Again, he spoke as if the crow should have been able to understand about the Runes and the Gods. Sonder could not imagine a world so different than the one he lived in, that the other would not know of the Runes or the Gods.
He reached into his satchel, thankful that he had carried gold, and took out a handful of pieces. "My brother was cursed. A cure. I can pay, or I can assist with a task, if my gold isn't valuable here." Sonder wasn't really sure where here was, just that it was a different world entirely from what he was used to. "I can do some magic, and cast the Runes to see into what is, although it's really the Gods who inspire me." Again, he spoke as if the crow should have been able to understand about the Runes and the Gods. Sonder could not imagine a world so different than the one he lived in, that the other would not know of the Runes or the Gods.
Really, any time Felix went anywhere, the whole show could be described as crashing-- barging in with a disaster-on-parade sort of flair, something like Mardi Gras with freckles. The energy he carried with him brought meaning to "a bull in a China shop."
Halloween had its ancient way of slashing through the veil and revealing the unseen, and eyes like Felix's were always wide and hungry for the magic hidden beneath the mundane-- that's what pulled him towards this strange little antique store like a magical bloodhound. He found companionship with oddities.
If there was a way to confidently stumble, Felix managed to pull it off; it was something about the shop's perpetual vertigo and crookedness, the floorboards that creaked and almost seemed to hold a life of their own, breathing in and out and somehow managing to grab onto Felix's boot as he walked in. That's what he would say, anyways: "It was just all the magic of the place, mate." It was more-or-less just Felix not watching his step and getting thrown off balance by a particularly stubborn warped floorboard, but nonetheless, he managed to catch himself on one of the many shelves and still walked in like he owned the place.
"Oh, Christ, the hell is this?" He greeted, his tone more curious and amused than rude. A smirk tugged on the corners of his lips as his gaze locked onto the beady inkblot eyes of the crow; he knew there was something there, something beyond a mere crow in The Crow's Nest, but he had to dig for what he wanted.
His attention flicked over from the crow to this other stranger, his eyebrows raising in interest. "We're having a party, here?" He asked with a small, quiet laugh.
(Too bad he walked in too late to catch the crow talking, he would have lost his mind.)
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