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Post by littlekreen on Jan 21, 2021 20:21:07 GMT -6
Flynn knew someone had followed her just by virtue of her various decoys being methodically torn down. Some of them were just humans finding them, possibly enforcers, as the year rolled on and their Twitch-like curiosity poked at things. It was the ones that sputtered in suffering as the life was snuffed out of them she worried over. A High Iron.
The Whelps could speak now since the last solstice but not well. Quinn had rapidly proved himself a biomancer and Thebus a summoner if an unwitting one. Neither of those was a thing she could train in and while the power of self in speech muted their powers that wouldn't last for long. The council would come for her soon and Flynn didn't want to give them an excuse to cast her out or her children away without having a say in where. They still weren't quite aged enough as the impulsive nature of whelps still had them. A path through her dreaming hellscape needed very enduring respect for things that could kill them. Molly had suggested the Fae plane which as an immediate backup plan suited her just fine. Flynn needed someone of power that weren't random human berks running afoul of the High Iron. Not an impulsive creature but a pragmatic one took stock of her options and chose a course of action. Hesitation and doubt got one broken in the Grandfather Teeth's dreaming.
So she packed the tools she could carry and started preparing a ritual for the solstice. If she wanted to hop across with all her things she would need a fury of magic to power it. Something to put them in. No going back as easily until she bled off the ritual but given the problem, she didn't care. She had some money at least and could afford to buy something though it took her some research to find human things that wouldn't just break. A quick purchase online with one of the last few times she'd use her cell and a large box arrived at a pickup location.
Flynn dragged the heavy thing to her ritual spot with little care for being seen. Today the decoys started failing in a direction that warned the High Iron had the scent of her life. Damned solstice must have brought her notice. Now or never. Atop a large blood magic circle was a three-wheeled pedal car. It had a small trunk though the little ones would have to ride on her lap. She couldn't get it much over 20 with its weight even if it had a flywheel but Flynn wasn't about to try and convince a human-sized pack animal that a predator such as herself wasn't planning to eat them.
"This may end spectacularly bad, little ones, but a Reacher is for hunting value out of trouble." She said to the two of whelps watching her work.
[seat too!], cried Thebus in reply with his bouncing impetuous tone.
[Lap sit! How strong do you think I am? Clutch Mother's armor only helps a little!], Flynn admonished in her own tongue with a shake of the human husk's finger.
Thebus crossed his tiny arms and sat jaw to the floor in protest. She scooped them up and sat in the single pilot's seat as they both climbed onto her lap. Little impetuous Thebus and the quiet Quinn. Flynn eyed the parts of her ritual gate that she could see though she'd already checked it several times. She could constrain for solid ground but pressed for time, not where. Flynn nervously checked the time as she waited for the solstice's high to start washing over the wards in a cascade to ignite the gate. They would either die in a thunderous explosion or be moved to another plane. Then it would explode of course but it would cover her tracks from the high iron at least. There wasn't anything close enough to worry about the fire. The High Iron couldn't have her little babies.
The keepers always did have a different view on Reachers that best translated in the local tongue 'A reacher is for surviving charges of constructive bastardy'. She smiled at that as the little ones smiled at her gleeful demeanor. Better that than they see her worry. Flynn already got Molly in enough trouble and instead opted to send the fae a letter to her home after the fact. Better for her to be ignorant of the explosion than blamed for it.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 10, 2021 15:11:06 GMT -6
The solstice and the veil battered at her husk like a rocky shore as its aperture was well closed. It made the husk stifling the battery a very real source of injury as the veil fought to get in. Though as it rose enough seemed source of bruises on her more from opportunism than hunger for where it was denied. Used to surviving the force of nature that was Grandfather Teeth looked to her charges huddling in the wheelwell staring and whimpering as the magic washed over them. Their instinct to hide as their mother sprouted cuts and bruises in a sacrificial battering to protect them. The high mark neared. Her ritual struggled and erupted into sluggish movement as the seed of a thunderstorm writ by mad Willed mechanists started to take shape. The dust on the floor nearby started to spark with small funnel whirls prodding at a spell perhaps particularly alien to this plane like one inspecting a curious meal.
The whelps whimpered, unharmed, as Flynn's mouth dripped a faint blue by the injuries to the husk. The loud whine in their ears and twitching muscles kept flitting Quinn's feathers to simulacra of strange shapes and sizes. Just two fledgling whelps glinting reflective eyes as she'd taken the glamours off for safety. Finally the peak of the solstice erupted the pack-gate with a force Flynn couldn't muster herself as the air outside the circle turned to rose-colored wisps of flame and closed her battered eyes hoping for the best.
The building Flynn used for the spell erupted in a deep red conflagration though the windows were long since gone flame poured through them with a quiet growl than a shock-wave. The inside of the building rocks and struggles as Flynn leaves the plane in a change of what was left in the abandoned concrete office. A secondary almighty implosion immolates all at once as the void as physics became aware that circle of the concrete floor was chiseled away from reality. One could see the rebar and steel underneath untouched by flammable things as the rest of the flammables in the area start to burn. The building quakes and heaves, rotten structure heavily damaged the rose aether-flames rusting everything they touched.
All to leave nothing behind the vary particular detonation immolated what she'd left behind her to burn up the threads of what was. A decision of dubious wisdom running in her mind at that long moment to keep this council from discoveries of her works or her tools as much as the High Iron looking for her. Hazardous to burn as it was the Molly husk Flynn ritually untethered and buried the graying flesh that looked like Molly in the forest floor behind the building. Directly south in a grave of deep disturbed earth. A few weeks and it would return to harmless copper, iron, and clay. Perhaps it might spring a tree from the spot but not something she considered a problem.
A long battering moment of whimpering whelps and inconstant time Flynn erupted into a forest somewhere in the Fae lands. The human husk coughed out blood as the whelps whined and clasped her leg as gravity took over. The aether flaming slab burns away much of the bright cobalt blood-ritual fell several inches to the ground and listed slightly. The pedal car itself dropped and bounced heavily on its shocks as Flynn cried out in a fluted squeal from the pain of hitting the seat. Her cobalt eyes opened with a grimace and heavy breathing. The husk took the battering and she was still here. Time to leave before someone came looking.
Flynn's fluted voice made haggard wet notes in her language, [Lap sit! Danger. We have to be quiet little ones and go.]
Despite pain the injuries sent back Flynn put one foot to the pedals, then the other, as her two whelps clambered on to cling to her chest. The pedal-car slowly moved forward as she pedaled to bounce again as they left the circle of stone. Three trails left behind her in the long grass as she tries to find somewhere flat enough to drive but thick enough to bunker down and recover from the transition.
The letter to Molly would come a day later, "I am using the solstice to leave this plane for another. A High Iron is here and closing in so I must not tell you where or when I am going. I'm sure you know why. If the High Iron is reading this, hello Astrophel the Wrathful. As an unpalatable reacher I hope you get mange. Put the letter back in the blue box. If we survive we may leave a fire but not too much I think. I picked the building because it was distant, inflammable, and on an inflammable slab. I hope your council is not too irritated with you. Otherwise, if you go south there, I hope you find what you need. ~Flynn the Volatile"
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Post by demikara on Feb 11, 2021 8:27:23 GMT -6
Part of a Ratatoskr's job was to monitor their plane. Molly, for instance, would one day be in charge of monitoring the human realm for any interplanar incursions. For now, she wasn't considered experienced enough to do more than respond when called on by the Ratatoskr who monitored the human realm. It would be centuries before she was actually in charge of the plane. Plenty of time for her to grow into herself. Given her status as fae, she was also currently expected to help out with any incursions into the fae realm, if help was needed.
There were many Ratatoskr of many different species. But they were spread all over the planes attached to the In Between, blending with locals, if they weren't locals themselves, and for the most part quietly working to do their job of exploration and protection. The protection was new still, so they weren't as practiced as the now disappeared Guardians, but they were in greater numbers than the guardians had been thanks to their breadth of species.
All of which, mattered very little, except to say that Alex, Pwyll's mentor, and man who was like an uncle to Molly, was actually in charge of investigating incursions onto the fae realm. He tended to ignore those that used a proper fae gate, of course, as those tended to only go to the human realm and were vanishingly rare now. They used to be more common, before the fae withdrew of course, but for now, very few used the gates and he could generally pinpoint who was using it based on where they landed.
The incursion into the unseelie lands the other day had been curious, but a quick check revealed it to be little more than the McBride girl who had stayed with them, and she was mostly harmless when it came to possible contamination. Strong in magic, of course, but it was difficult to fight a fully trained Ratatoskr, if only because hitting them was incredibly difficult. Alex was largely content in knowing she'd struggle to attack him, given how dense he could make himself. It was rather like hitting a brick wall, he had been told on more than one occasion, and blades didn't penetrate. Magic could still be used, of course, but he had observed her distaste of magic and wasn't overly worried. Besides, ultimately, she had lived a long life as a fae. She posed not external threat to the fae realm.
More curious was the haphazard explosion of magic tat had pushed through the In Between entirely, bypassing it in a way that suggested someone who was not overly used to interplanar travel. And that bore investigating. It was the work of minutes to arm himself with a sword and leather armor and walk through the In Between to the site where the incursion occurred. He examined the In Between carefully and noted no damage had occurred for corruption to take root in. That was good at least. Dealing with corruption that close to his home plane would have been an absolute nightmare. Especially because all that they had managed so far was containment and even that was a losing battle. They really needed to find some trace of the guardians soon. He was fairly certain Molly knew something, but when the girl decided to keep her mouth shut, there was no prying it open. She may eventually spill, but she tended to hold secrets close to her chest. Even if there was danger involved in doing so.
Alex exited the In Between with a single step and paused as he took in the sight in front of him. A trail of what looked like some sort of vehicle, along with splatters of blue fluid. He knelt and examined the fluid, then sighed and started following the trail at a brisk walk. It didn't take him long to spot the pedal car and in the blink of an eye he was in front of it. "A human?" One covered in what looked like cuts and scraps that bled blue. "Ah. Not a human." He corrected himself and looked to the two fluffy beings on the not-humans lap. "And pets, perhaps? I'm afraid, ma'am, I'm going to have to ask your business on this plane." He would be polite about it, though the hand on his sword hilt made it clear he was only going to be so nice.
He had a duty to the plane and to his people.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 11, 2021 9:48:41 GMT -6
A press of the brake made the pedal-car slow as it disengaged from the flywheel. The car slowed to a stop as she applied the disc brake and looked up at the man under her leather hat to the man that seemed more a Far and Deep than Molly ever had been. His polite decorum she decided to return in kind. At least to keep him from disposing of her 'pets' like the High Iron would.
Those 'pets' looked at him with their pairs of mismatched eyes in bright phlox and forest green. Easily picking up on intent of a predator kept a perfect quiet. A mixture between a human's and Flynn's fluted bark broke the quiet through the husk of Flynn's laugh without the lexical engine running for translation. Standing exposed magic spells connected to a mind while in a insulated pack gate. When it quarantined the transit and both sides that wasn't wise if you wanted your mind still intact. Even if you wore a husk to carry spells for you.
Modulated overtone singing as a language was something a human voicebox would struggle to produce as she replied, {Well this one is better guarded. I hope you have something to translate.}
A year under her belt Flynn was getting better at actually speaking English though in her current state it came out ragged bars of singsong behind the plastic windscreen, "Pets to predators. These are children. Escaping one predator. No going home. Children too young. Idiot council dangerous. Here for information."
Flynn deferred to the council while there but didn't have a high opinion of them after the obvious infighting. The Keepers couldn't afford it and the Sanguinary wouldn't allow it. The High Iron saw to that. After living in human civilization for a while had a better appreciation for that her entire society was permanently at war with both the corruption of the spikers and the force of nature itself. As much as she wanted to stay Flynn did have a job to do for her people just wouldn't risk her children to do it.
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Post by demikara on Feb 11, 2021 10:46:40 GMT -6
Ah, children and presumeably their mother. Or their caretaker at least. Someone who dealt with the bureaucracy of a council as well, as a head of government. This was interesting and he considered them carefully. "Hiding in the fae realms? I suppose you blend in decently, though not well. There aren't that many humans here, and the blue blood gives you away handily. The children don't blend in at all, unfortunately. What information are you here for?" He removed his hand from his sword. He'd still be able to quickly draw it, but it was as much of a peace offering as he was willing to give.
He didn't know who these people were, and while two were children, children could be dangerous. After all, even a child could hold a knife. Though these two looked more likely to bite than hold a knife. After a moment he considered her carefully. "Do you need a translation spell?" It was accented english, but he could speak it well enough. Someone had to help Molly practice after all, before her sojourn to the human realm. Their little family had all learned english together for just that reason.
This was fragmented english though. Understandable enough, if he thought it over for a bit, but fragmented. "And can the predator follow you here?" He didn't want to deal with someone identified as a predator. They were annoying to fight. Although it may serve to give Pwyll a bit more experience. The goddess knew the boy needed it. There weren't a lot of decent options for working your skills up as a ratatoskr fighter.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 11, 2021 11:42:32 GMT -6
Flynn shrugs and pets the heads of the two whelps who relax from pressing their bodies to Flynn. They were still nervous around the stranger but Flynn was glad they calmed. They were less likely to bolt and go to ground. The last thing she needed is to have to dig them out of a hole. Instinct didn't exactly acknowledge that the floor was not almost always water. Flynn opened the door carefully while eying the whelps to see if they were going to bolt. They stayed still at least so she could be better heard. Light bioplastic wouldn't keep out a sword anyway much less magic.
A thin stream of blue blood reversed course up her neck as the husk reacted to employ a densely magical locale as Flynn decides he isn't a raider, "No need. Can't cast now. Gate with quarantine anathema engine. Your dreaming is banal but bad things still there."
Though the aura of the husk said she, though the husk itself, was casting it was a thin pattern slowly weaving denser threaded lies to hide behind. Cobalt strands re-weaving the meat decoration of a human. A beating heart underneath as a false pulse started. Once the husk re-emerged in a couple of hours she wouldn't be in quite as much danger though at least she doubted anything but the male would threaten her at the moment. Good and bad things but she'd take it.
Eyes were the only thing she had difficulty moving like a human in the waking husk so locked unmoving at Alex's eyes, "No following without me. Not through quarantine gate. Stuck in human world. Got there somehow though but not the same way as me."
A small journal from her jacket Flynn flips to a bookmarked page depicting an overly tall dryad next to a human silhouette with a cloth tied around her eyes. On the facing page, a tall tree with a metal-filled hole shattered into it bearing a heraldry symbol that spoke of the ownership of her name. Though the words on it clearly copied by someone who didn't see fae as a language. Flynn's people didn't understand it the last time the monks saw the Red Lady only ages ago after the Reachers first went looking. The Reachers weren't entirely sure where in her world such a tree could exist but it wasn't anywhere in their watery domain. Once discovering the dreaming it too came up empty though they'd found shards from Grandfather Teeth that had puzzle pieces.
"Looking for story on seer. No eyeballs. Red wood. Probably gone missing long ago.", She tapped the image, explaining.
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Post by demikara on Feb 12, 2021 13:36:32 GMT -6
He didn't quite catch the majority of that. But it sounded like she was fairly certain she wasn't followed and there was a possible planar breach in the human realm. That wasn't ideal, and it meant he needed to report that as well, so something could be done about it. He examined the image closely. "There are plenty of stories on seers. This looks like a dryad of some sort." The letters copied down were legible, but only just. Well, she was in the right place if she was looking for a fae. Unfortunately for her, the fae realm was very, very large.
"Do you have any other details?" For now, he'd help out. But he didn't see the need to let them stay in the fae realm for that long. Especially if the mother looked anything like her children. That was asking for trouble to occur. Unfortunately, he did still need more details to send her back to the right place.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 12, 2021 14:39:31 GMT -6
Flynn reached behind the seat to her pack, plucking a piece of parchment from inside. Since she had to dispose of her leftover materials Flynn made a proper copy of the letter all teachers were entrusted. Making a quill from her own feathers was a bit painful but it worked much better than the ones by rollerball pens that she'd made for Molly. Humans were too skittish and fearful but the fae seemed capable if dangerous and lacking for options used what she had. "Here. Passed down," She offered with a shake of the letter at him and continued with her throat recovering, "from her hand by we that travel a broken dreaming looking for her. We never could read the note but all Reachers keep it well. Grandfather Teeth could not take her but we do not know why. Something missing before she arrived." She took a deep breath, couched, then added, "There are many fables since she went quiet but we disproved most. Her tree leaves are a fine long needle and the wood was red. The tree was very tall but our measurements mean little to you. There was her staff engraved with a bird but all truth of its shape is lost to havoc." If he read it the parchment's ink glowed in this realm with the faint spell surviving many generations. An illusory mark indicating ownership by a Fae hovered over where the metal of Flynn's heart would be even through her husk. Though not over her two half-human children. Flynn just eyed the parchment that was currently blank to her own sight knowing only what she'd put there on the other plane. Hunter's sight could not see the color of the letter nor its effects as she needed good distance vision to drive.
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Post by demikara on Feb 13, 2021 16:44:17 GMT -6
He read through the poem on the letter and understood about none of it. The words were fae, if very carefully written fae, but they didn't make an ounce of sense to him at all. Well, there had to be something behind the letter, given it seemed to have some significance to the being in front of him. "And who is it that travels this broken dreaming and what is the broken dreaming that you travel?" He needed answers more than he needed to help her when it came down to it. "As to the description, there's some pine dryads who turn red as they age and have fine long needles. They tend to be fairly tall." They were also no where near where Flynn had come out. They were too far south and east for the pine trees to grow.
He examined the ownership mark curiously. "The mark may get you farther, but I don't recognize it either. There may be an answer in some noble's library though, if you can convince one to let you have a look, and manage to find the right one." They'd probably do it for the right amount of money, but he had no clue where she would even begin to look for a copy of the mark. A noble would get more out of it than he would. His training didn't exactly cover such things after all, and for all that he was fae, his fae learning had been the basics they taught publically.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 16, 2021 12:43:03 GMT -6
Flynn didn't see much point in avoiding discussion of magical things given what she'd heard of the Fae plane. Besides which grandfather teeth was covered in schools as the little ones might be dreamers that drop into the space itself. Those ones went on to be Reachers for their own safety at the very least. Neither of hers seemed to be the Reacher sort so she was glad for that much. She had no idea where a neophyte Reacher would go when dreaming in the human plane but suspected here.
The husk's throat reassembling itself made it easier to shape English, "Reachers like me travel Grandfather Teeth's broken dreaming in pact armor. We found many names for Grandfather Teeth in books we steal from his dreaming. (Latin){Vitruvian's Cage} is the rarest. Celestial, nature-things like you, and corrupt Children of Teeth all call it something else. Mostly something close to 'He who predates outside' but we can only read their languages. Too busy running to talk when Grandfather Teeth hunts and eats them in the dreaming. The Children of Teeth are too dangerous."
Less direct knowledge of the in-between left her unsure as the in-between was as empty as her dreaming was full. There were no books she could get access to on it but chatter from Molly.
She shrugged and pet Quinn who was softly humming, "My sextant says this place is in a flow shadow of ours. Seems odd."
A raised brow of her lock-eyed stare she game a toothy human smile, "Point me to a library or where the old red ladies grow and I'll stay out of trouble as best a Reacher can. I don't know what your prey species look like but I'll try not to eat anything that talks."
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Post by demikara on Feb 17, 2021 10:43:27 GMT -6
"That works. And I'll take you there. There's no library, but I can drop you off in the right area at least." And he couldn't really do more than that. The fact that she wanted a library was interesting though. Those were few and rare and he knew it. People might have a few books themselves, but even that was rare. There were other things to do besides reading after all. Reading was something of luxury. His small family had time of course, but his small family kept up the sheep farming largely to mask what they actually did.
They were paid for their work as Ratatoskr and lived off that, not off the sheep. "It'd be quite a bit of travel if I let you go there on your vehicle." He said simply. "But I can get you there fairly quickly."
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 17, 2021 12:18:57 GMT -6
A cluck noise with her tongue Flynn sighed, "No library? As humans once wrote, 'scientia potentia est'. Well, a useful path will do."
Upon the library doors of the Reachers that phrase was chiseled as the hybrid species they called Twitch, named for their rather common muscle tics, investigated recovered lore for useful information. Most reachers knew Latin at the very least as much of the things in Grandfather Teeth either were labeled in it or half-chewed souls that madly muttered it as they went along. Flynn being as old as she was knew bits of a few more but the volume of languages they came across was what made a lexical engine cast by Twitch take up residence as a natural spell.
A fluted warble to the two whelps they dismounted from the husk's chest as Flynn slid out of the small pedal car. The two whelps followed her though Quinn hid behind Flynn's ankle away from Alex. Thebus just hissed his discontent in their densely tonal native tongue and fluted at him while staring at the sword, {Pointy! No touch!} Flynn had impressed on them the very important rule of not touching any of her tools. That someone else had them struck the braver Thebus differently than his brother.
The seat went forward as Flynn gathered her deep green haversack since lashed to a hiking frame with a long box and another larger bag. The husk was stronger than Flynn by leverage as much as nature and she made good use of it. Though the strong magic of this place already started pouring across her body much as her own dreaming did. The metal heart ticking stronger as her body full of inert dream ectoplasm stabilized her natural course. Though momentarily wondered if the grandmother she pacted with would notice the slow loss of wrinkles as the minutes dropped off each day for her that Flynn was here.
Flynn looked at Thebus then back to Alex and decided she was already lost and if betrayed would at least be on a path with food to eat, "Figured I would have to leave it behind eventually. Human steel doesn't heal. You can cast an unsheathed gate then? I can keep the whelps from wriggling away at least that long."
It was a gamble, even here, as one might run to hide and the other threatens a monster but this place didn't have quite the same inherent hostility she had to return home through. With a flick of her hand, a coin erupts through the palm in a split of fibrous blue flesh then reseal behind it. Flynn catches her sanguinary token and places it on the top of the pedal car. Blue lines erupt across the dirt as a ritual transmission in the roof slowly packs the car into the ground. A bug and a wrapper are ejected into the air as the circle spreads underneath them as the car creaks to implode into it. Quietly waiting until she could retrieve her token while looking at Alex.
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Post by demikara on Feb 18, 2021 17:00:42 GMT -6
"No public libraries." He corrected. He watched as she took care of the car. That was one way of handling things, he supposed. Not quite the way he would have, but it worked. "Close your eyes and have your children close theirs. When I say so, step forward. We'll be there as easy as that." Technically, he really should take longer, for safety's sake, but he was impatient to get this over with. It was bad enough he'd be having to monitor this stranger. Though he should at least find out her name, he supposed. "Call me Alex." He offered. "What shall I call you?"
It would be something for the divination spell to latch onto, more than the image he was going to have to affix in his mind. At least he'd know when she left the plane as well as knowing when she arrived. Though he suspected she'd first want to try her best to find this 'red lady.' There were enough dryads where he was going to take her that one of them might know something.
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Post by littlekreen on Feb 19, 2021 1:18:57 GMT -6
Flynn knew the habits of names where she was but it hardly mattered. Their names and souls were owned by Grandfather Teeth to incarnate to new lives when it willed. Her mother certainly wasn't going to tell her what she'd named her either. Not after killing her twice in any case and that didn't count any maiming.
Soured a bit remembering the curse of a demigod that was her clutch mother, shrugged, "The Reachers called me Flynn the Volitale. We hold the line against our dreaming things and I've lived with them all my life. Clutch mother never lives long enough to object to my name but it's better that way for everyone."
As the car finally completed its compaction tiny red buttercups with thorns emerge from the soil as Flynn removed her sanguinary token that slipped away through a slit in the husk's palm. Though the angular interconnected pattern remains they slowly retract and grow in her general direction. The compaction would rot away eventually or just age into uselessness and disperse but at least the small roving spell would slowly make its way to wherever she was going even if she couldn't recreate it without making all her tools again. This place might not even have night let alone rain as she wasn't entirely sure it ever changed at all. Given the density of magic here the blood magic construct ward, or as the twitch would complain a sanguinary aethermechanism, probably didn't care much about water or academic pedantry anyway.
Flynn whistled at the two Whelps that clambered up to her chest so Flynn could put her hands over their heads to get them to close their eyes. Flynn herself looked at Alex as her pupils turned milky white when a third eyelid closed behind the husk's meaty imitation of sight, "Done. I can't blink in the dreaming armor but my water-lid works just fine."
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Post by demikara on Feb 21, 2021 12:27:27 GMT -6
Flynn the Volatile. This definitely bore close watching. "Alright. I'm going to take your arm now. Ready?" He waited a moment for an objection, and called to his powers. "And step." It would be a blur of dark blues as they went too quickly through the In Between for anything to be particularly noticeable. "You can open your eyes now." They were in a clearing in a forest. "The nearest town is down the path that way." He pointed down one direction of the path. "But you'll be wanting to go in the other directions to get to the pine dryads. I can't get you closer without stepping on some major toes, so it's about half a days walk away from one of their gathering places. They should be able to find you. I'll check on you in about a week's time. That's seven nights." He doubted she was used to the same measuring of time, given it was largely celestial that this was all derived from. "Stay out of trouble."
He wouldn't help her id she got into trouble, when it came down to it. She wasn't actually meant to be on this plane after all, and he had little sympathy for her being here. About the only reason he hadn't forcible escorted her back to her own plane was that she did appear to have legitimate business here.
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