Margot got a text:
My friend is here for the week. Can you meet us? I'll introduce you then get out of your hair, if that is okay.
There were a few times offered. Most of them during the day but a couple more toward the gloaming hour. During the day, one of the possible locations was Chatfield Farms, another was the Stag Hollow Winery. During the twilight, Stag Hollow Winery came up again, but so did a café in a mining town outside Denver proper, closer to the mountains proper; some ways up one of the mountains to be honest. The easiest to get to is Stag Hollow, but the choice of where is left up to Margot.
Margot
A text containing an invitation for a playdate with a Verbena. A couple of times and locations made available as options, and Margot was left hesitating for quite some time on how to answer. She had a habit of overthinking, and was trying to make connections to significance in these places. Why a winery? Why so close to the mountains? Why a farm?
A daytime option was chosen. She'd rather go to the farm than the winery, regardless of proximity. The cafe by the mountains was a longer drive than she wanted to make and felt ominous in a way she couldn't explain.
So, the text back:
Absolutely. Let's do the farm, I'm available then.
And so, it should be.
Margot
[Perception 3 + Awareness 1]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 5) ( fail )
viscera
Margot does not sense Penelope (or friend) when she pulls into the parking lot at Chatfield Farms. There was a warning of a five dollar charge in order to enjoy the grounds, but it seems like a pittance to help maintain the area. Chatfield Farms is truly Chatfield Denver Botanical Garden, not the site closest to the city and most popular with tourists, but the one with seven hundred and sixty acres of a working farm, nature trails leading into the foothills (spare now, not quite Spring-kissed, still blanched from the surprise snows, withered gold and the beginning of hardy plant-life, birds coming out dark-eyed and song-throated, and meanwhile and also there is a wild flower garden and a small white house gift shop with a coffee and hot chocolate cart. There is a maze of corn to the back, just now spring-green/beginning, and of course some animals, and since this is day time and there are no school groups just yet, it's very quiet. Hardly anybody there, except a woman in her thirties who sells Margot the paper ticket.
She will find Penelope at a low wooden park table outside the wild flower garden, seated on its top with her boots planted on the bench that belongs to it. The tree casts a shadow over her and her companion (we'll get to him), so her hair is vibrant, autumnal, but not yet on fire; a dark and bloody red. She is wearing something very typically Penelope: a long tunic which somehow gives the impression, vaguely, of a shift; something Joan of Arc might have worn, or some Saint set loose on a boat with her child to drown in the deep wild sea, or something a lady in Camelot might wear, has a bracelet on her wrist like a bracer for armor, some metal thing set with a stone.
She is speaking, easily, to the man seated on the bench. His name is Thane, but Margot knows this already, and he is leaning forward with his elbows on the knees of his workman's trousers, canvas things that will hold sturdy when they are torn, and one hand held out to a magpie which has wandered in his direction. The magpie is a bright-eyed, inquisitive looking creature, a black and white invasive species, cocking its head this way and that as it hops closer and closer toward his hand. There's a bracelet on Thane's wrist, a slender thing of metal, set with a stone.
Thane has crow dark hair, like Nicholas but not like Nicholas, for where Nick's hair is curls and curls, Thane's hair is thick waves. His build is hearty, hale; not quite bulky, but he looks as if he has some strength to him, as if he is rooted. His profile gives a hint of his ethnicity, something from the Cradle of Civilization, where their eyelashes are very long (their eyelashes are very long everywhere, in truth) and straight and thick. Where Pen is pale and even when she gets sun won't be anything but pale and maybe a bit foxed, Thane has dusty skin.
He says something over what Penelope is saying, and Penelope looks beyond Thane and sees Margot and lifts a hand, bounding to her feet.
The bird takes flight; wings out-stretched.
Margot
Today Margot could not sense the resonances of the Mages she was coming to visit, or the tingling magickal-spiritual electric something in the air that was left behind when anything dared to defy textbook reality, really. Perhaps it was because she was tired-- leading a double life was hard enough but she went to school full time and worked thirty hour weeks on top of that. She was conflicted, having missed a few classes was taking its toll on her academics but thankfully she was quite smart and did not worry for the tests to come. Today, even, she was skipping a class to come out here for this visit (she spoke with the professor ahead of time, would have to make it up, would probably endure a lecture about taking school seriously when she saw them next).
But the chewed ear and five dollars to get into the farmland would be worth it, no doubt. She'd parked her car where indicated and wandered inward from the parking lot with her gaze cast sweeping about for familiarity. Luckily, Penelope was both easy to recognize and already waving to catch her attention. Margot smiled, raised a hand over her head to hail the pair, and approached.
Today her brown hair was left down but twisted and pinned away from her face in the front, and a pair of sunglasses were lifted from her face and rested upon her crown. She was petite in frame, barely more than five feet tall, with a brisk gait and sense of caution about her. That caution would probably leave her one day, when she was no longer an Orphan Apprentice and had better footing in the world. She dressed in blue jeans and a pair of hiking boots, with a gray hoodie zipped up over a black T-shirt underneath.
The magpie flew away as Margot drew near, and she smiled to Penelope, glanced a little nervously (and quite curiously) to Thane. "Hey Penelope." Then, "You must be Thane?"
viscera
[Thane Aware?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
viscera
[Thane very aware.]
Margot
[Dayumn]
viscera
"I am it is good to meet you," Thane replies. Close by, Margot can see that his eyes, while dark, are a paler brown than his hair; there is some contrast there, and in the frame-work of his eyelashes. They are looking at Margot with as much curiosity as she is looking at him, but no nervousness; he does not seem like he would understand nervousness.
"Thane Owens, bani Verbenae," and Margot, she knows what Pen feels like, and also Andrés, but she has no sense of Thane. He seems whole-hearted, somehow; cheerful, even, attractive. Penelope is beguiling; Thane is a force of vigorous energy. "Pen told me that you feel a call and there are few here to tell you whether or not the call is true but you call, ha ha," he grins, "sorry, I'm jumping right into things and I said call a lot didn't I, but you call your Craft uh craftwork?"
Margot
Margot appeared taken aback by Thane, to a mild degree. Her eyes were large on her face by nature, giving her a perpetual expression of surprise, so whenever they actually did widen the effect was almost owlish. She blinked at Penelope for a moment, then looked back to Thane and cleared a small chuckle from her throat.
"Uh, yeah." Glanced about, but they were more or less alone. No school groups or crowds of families with children come to see. This wasn't a zoo or anything central to the city, after all.
"It feels more like a craft than anything. Very... raw and old. I work with blood more than anything else."
Unsurprisingly-- he could feel her resonance, and bloody was a very good way of describing it.
viscera
"Hmm hmm hmm that's an interesting thing to say," Thane says, batting a lash, and he braces his hands against the wooden bench like he's going to stand, but remember Pen had bounded to her feet, which means she is standing on the bench, and now she jumps down and cuts in, "Thane, remember that Margot doesn't know you, okay?"
Thane smiles at Pen and it is a sweet smile Thane is a person of contradiction and dichotomies somebody who and mark this who might have been around forever might be Merlin really might be something Other some bard some old king sleeping re-risen and he is visceral and he can also be sweet as a puppy dog right sure maybe right, "I remember," and he cuts a glance to Margot, seeking to meet her eyes and share it, then instead of standing claps his hands together elbows back on his knees intent gaze roving from woman to woman, "Want to walk through the wild flower garden, Margot? Nobody's there and we can talk."
Pen could also see them, not that that's a concern for Thane, and maybe not Margot either, but strange people and strange days.
Margot
Eyes hopped back and forth between the two other magick-wielders. Pen seemed to be trying to help remind Thane to keep himself in check, in a way. Remember, Margot was still unfamiliar to him. Perhaps he got carried away, pried too deep and got too personal? Penelope was married to Nick and friends with Andres, and no doubt knew by now through hearsay that Margot was a bit, ah, sensitive sometimes.
An invitation to walk through the flowers, and Margot looked at them for a moment then rolled her head to gesture in another direction instead.
"Can we go see the animals instead?"
viscera
This quick intake of breath which is pleasure because animals and Thane grins at Pen this easy go lucky this satiated hah see animals see see SEE sort of grin and it is the kind of grin that might induce somebody to ruffle somebody else's hair, but Thane's hair stays unruffled for now, and he does stand now. "Sure, let's go see the animals. They're this way," and he nods satyr brow sort of nod toward the red barn which is further into the farm will take some walking down a dusty road to get to much not TOO much walking to not if they're going to see the animals that are there to be seen by school groups and the like. There is still silence and seclusion; no not silence, a farm makes noise, nature makes noise, the world is fucking noisy.
"I'll see you guys later," Pen says, a note of query; she could easily be summoned to stay, but her manner also says: this is (possibly) Verbenae business.
Every Tradition has its secrets; Pen tries to respect them.
Margot
She and Thane moved away from the bench and began walking toward the big red barn and the promise of privacy for conversation (and fluffy animals) it contained. Penelope would catch them later, and Margot glanced with a second of hesitation and remorse (wait!) over her shoulder. But, it is just a moment. Every Tradition had its secrets, after all. She would never ask to see the text that Awoke her Mentor, for instance.
So the moment passed and Margot turned and walked along by Thane's elbow, boots kicking up little clouds of dust on the beaten-down trail that they travelled.
Not much of a conversationalist, but Margot disliked walking in choked awkward silence with a brand new person more than she disliked talking about empty niceties like the weather and places of origin. So...
"...So, uh, where'd you fly in from?"
Good job, social tertiary.
viscera
They amble along, amble, amble, amble amble-amble-amble, and Thane keeps a sharp curious eye out on their surroundings, but most of his curiosity (and he seems to be a warm man) is for the young wide-eyed owl-eyed woman by his side who his ex-cabal mate (ex, ex, ex!) asked him to speak to and who feels like carnage on a battlefield even if that battlefield is just the battlefield between a fox and a mouse or a cat and a stoat all that viscera strewn out left somewhere smeared grisly and gruesome and grim and that's just life isn't it that's life all right. Margot has no idea what Thane feels like but maybe it's grisly, too, maybe it's some bloody center (no it's not; he makes his own bloody centers but they do not drive his Work the way it drives Margot's).
"Boston," he says, "And then Dallas, and then some other airport, they kept transferring us. I do not like flying by plane if it hadn't been such a whim this trip if Vernal Equinox hadn't fallen just before I would have just driven it in my truck. Have you ever done a road trip like that?"
Margot
Margot knew that she felt like the bright red dark red carnage that she needed for her magick to work. She knew her mentor felt like a crystal ball of ice, and that her companion Apprentice felt like a strangling grasp about your neck. She couldn't say what Thane felt like, though. This was an off day. So she just watched him with a glance cast to her right here and there while they walked. Spent much of the time looking around at the farm they walked through, though.
He was from Boston, and she nodded understanding to that (along with his other layovers). She nodded again to answer his question, too.
"Yeah, I drove out here from Maine last August, when I moved out. It didn't do the allure of a roadtrip any favors-- I'm no hurry to drive it again." She smiled a little, but the expression was small and lost to thoughtfullness. A wandering mind full of many questions. They were here to talk about the Verbena and he'd mentioned an Equinox and maybe she should grasp that and use it as a way to start prying this walnut open. But another question found its way to her tongue first, and fell from it abruptly.
"What happened that your Cabal with Penelope split up?"
viscera
Oh, a strike of sorrow through warm brown eyes but it is tempered sorrow Thane is not the most emotional has never been the most emotional of his (Ex) cabal mates and regret is an easy thing to feel he does not shrink from it shirk it he just feels it and his gaze wanders downward toward the dusty toes of his shoes and he runs his palm over his forehead then up through his thick thick hair deep breath other hand finding his waist for a second measure stop-skip falter and then okay back to walk walk walking stride as easy as ever but Thane darts a little sidelong glance Margot's way and says "Oh."
"Oh, well... it's a long story sort of, what do you know about cabals? You're very new I thought? Or were interested in forming one with another Disparate and a doctor from the Society of Ether?"
Margot
There was a visible cringing to Margot's expression when Thane reacted to her question. She realized at once that it was a dumb question to ask, if only for how insensitive it apparently was. Cabals probably didn't split up for the best reasons. Maybe they were a lot like marriages-- commonly ending with splitting up but seldom the friendliest or happiest subject to speak of. Always with the hurt and the regret.
"Sorry," she said quickly when he said it was a long story. Without skipping much of a step he was asking how much she knew about Cabals and what her intentions were. Her brow furrowed a little bit at something he'd said. He'd soon find what.
"He's only so much a Disparate as I am. Which is to say, I don't think either of us really are. We're new, we just haven't joined a Tradition yet. Doesn't mean we're planning on never doing so, otherwise we wouldn't even be here, I don't imagine."
She walked a few yards further quietly, hands in her pockets and pace unbreaking.
"...But, yeah, we'll be a Cabal I think. Which means we work together, learn from one another and keep each other safe."
ThaneHe has regained his equilibrium it seems Thane is steadfast in his way a rock besides life is hard that's just part of life life is pain and sap and sorrow and exhilaration and fucking and freedom and constraint life is bad times and good times and anyway Thane is present in this moment 2016 and there's a sense of observation and then good cheer when he replies, "Yeah, that's exactly what a cabal does. It doesn't mean you can't Work with other Wyck-touched but you have a Home to return to and people who have your back."
"I don't know how much you know about the cabal Pen and Nick and me had together, oh and Ari, do you know Arianna yet? She stayed with the Mars-Hydes, ha ha I don't think Nick took any part of Penelope's Craft Name, but it feels strange to call them the Hydes, what was I saying oh right, anyway. We were a pretty big cabal and had a very difficult year. We lost one of our own, and then ... well there was a lot of really heavy bad stuff, there usually is heavy bad stuff, but this was more harrowing, and after all that was done well we were okay for a while but it got a lot harder and there were a lot of arguments and finally a straw broke the camel's back. I think we all need a threshold time apart, pursuing different goals. Not Pen and Nick, they're good together, but the rest of us."
"Anyway, that's what happened. We're still friends who care about one another, see I came all this way and braved the airport! Motherfuckers searched me and called me a fucking towel head; no respect for consequences among airline security!"
"What Tradition do you think your friend is gonna be? His name's," and Thane, mellow brown eyes (oh, but it had sparked; a certain sort of knife edge resolution at some point during his ramble) soulful and blank, has clearly forgotten whether or not he ever knew Ned's name. "Follow in the Ether man's footsteps?"
MargotMargot was beginning to put together the broad pieces of the puzzle that was Thane-- at least, as far as surface Thanes go. He was talkative, and Margot thankfully had some experience with that. Doc was talkative. William was talkative. Ned could get so talkative that the Doc had actually limited to a 140 word count as though this were Real Life Twitter. Thane's talkative habits may have once had Margot floundering to keep up and interject in conversation, but she had experience now.
So Thane went on, with a few questions smattered here and there, and Margot just cast her eyes to the glimpse of cows behind a fence up ahead. When the Verbena man lost that moment's steam, the little witch piped up in a voice that was now, as it often was, soft and thoughtful.
"I did meet Arianna. She makes a good impression-- very regal. I've never met somebody who takes Traditions so seriously." As for her friend, his name...
"His name is Ned." Edward (one presumed, he's never told her outright), but he introduced himself as Ned and so Ned he was even if Doc insisted on using full names. Good thing her name was its own full name already. Nobody's gotten familiar enough to try shortening it on her yet.
Her head shook as she continued on, casting a shadow of doubt on the question of whether Ned would join the Society of Ether. "No, Ned's not a Scientist. He does Work, not Science. I suppose if I were going to take a guess, I would peg him for a Chakravanti. He's... closely tied to death and very intense. But a lot of his Work rests on Sensation, and that's a Cultist's trademark isn't it?" Her brow furrowed. She was having trouble picturing her partner-in-learning as a Cultist of Ecstacy, even though she'd seen him Work through inebriation several times before.
Thane"Ehhh. The Ecstatics would have you think so and I guess maybe it is, but every Tradition or most Traditions have some sort of practice which relies on Sensation, including mine, including the Dreamspeakers. If your pal Ned is closely tied to Death I wouldn't necessarily say the Wheel Turners are the Tradition for him as attractive as Nicholas makes it seem it can tarnish a person if they're not careful too much Death too much looking beyond Death and forgetting about the bloody viscera of now, I mean, uh, no I'm not saying it wouldn't work for him, just it's a mistake to think about Chakravanti as the Tradition that deals with Death or to focus on Death if that's what you're inclined to, or it can be a mistake, whatever, you get me I hope. Harder to pin down a Dreamspeaker though and they're so fucking different one from the other, lots of what I think of as mini Traditions. Uh, fuck, Kha'vadi, I'm an asshole I should remember that name. They changed it recently. A lot of us did, us Traditions."
He doesn't pause; but some gravitas (Primordial, see [older than old, before there were shadows]) creeps in.
"Not the Verbenae, though. We've always stuck by the Ancient Ways, we always will. Though there seems to be a push for the proper Latinized plural," Thane sounds amused by this push. "Dollars to donuts that some Verbena who caballed with a bunch of Hermetics decided to make that push."
Thaneooc: wait! change first sentence to: "including mine, including the Dreamspeakers, hell the Order has some crazy fun sex rituals. I don't think the Society or V-depts have any but Technomancers and me we haven't gotten along all that well."
MargotThane mentioned Dreamspeakers, and Margot shook her head. "No, Ned doesn't do spirits. That's my thing." As though she had a patent on it or something, when the truth of the matter was that she was the only one out of her small would-be Cabal who could sense the Gauntlet and Umbra and Spirits and Ghosts. They relied on her, and she felt something particularly in-sync with spirits anyways. Perhaps she would have been a goodDreamspeaker Kha'vadi herself if she hadn't gotten Verbena so lodged in her head.
"It's all just names," she assured him when he spoke of how he should remember the new Dreamspeaker Tradition and how the word Verbena should be pluralized through Latin formals. "I mean, I know there's plenty of power to a name for some of us, but hey-- there's plenty of power to a pile of shit to some of us too."
She paused thoughtfully, then asked:
"Do you think he would be a good Verbena?"
ThaneNed doesn't do spirits. "Well the Hermetics have a lot going on, you gotta be book smart as fuck though, or else you're kind of shit out of luck, and there's a lot of room for variety in the Cult too. Depends on how he uses Sensation, whether he can get down with their code. Everything's got a code you know."
He laughs, "That was a very Verbena thing you just said, that part about shit," and his eyes spark with this gold quality, this is a metaphor, right, but the golden quality it's heath all dredged with light all warmed by far and away, and now he looks sidelong at Margot.
They've walked. There are cows. "Oh, you mean Ned? I can't say I'm sure I mean I don't even know if you'd be a good Verbena yet though the signs do seem to be there I get it. What's a 'good' Verbena? But he might be, we deal with the full gamut, we're here now, we've been here for a while, but we you and I we are here right fucking now, and to Work you have to experience that. No shrinking. That's hard sometimes, but ehh..."
"So Margot, why do you want to be a Verbena? Do you still wanna be a Verbena? How'd you even fix on the idea Pen didn't say."
MargotThe Hermetics got another shake of the head, but she didn't explain herself on that one aloud. They came to a stop where the cows were penned up and Margot stepped up onto the bottom rung of the fence, hooked her arms over the top rung and rested her chin on her criss-crossed wrists.
"Because I'm a Witch. Or I feel like one. I'm not a Scientist, though, I know that much. I don't know what others may define themselves as... wizards? Saints? I don't think that words carry power, but I know that Blood and War do." She cleared her throat and explained further.
"My Avatar's a Goddess of War. She picked me out and opened my eyes. So the only things that work for me are what work for her-- Blood and War."
She looked matter-of-fact but quietly conflicted both. Margot didn't come across as particularly violent.
Thane"Okay and why do you think that matches up with the Verbena? Why not the Order? They have people whose Avatars manifest as goddesses of War. Why not the Chakravanti? Blood and War usually man Death, mean the Wheel is turning and winter is coming," a faint smirk because he gets the pop culture reference a moment after he makes it this somber whisper of a thing in his eyes. "What is it you know about the Verbena specifically which speaks to you?"
Thaneooc: ahem, 'man Death' = 'mean Death'
MargotIt was a valid question that Margot had to think long and hard about. She was quiet for a time before answering, soft and quiet and thoughtful as ever.
"I don't care about the cycle. Or the Circle. I suppose that it's obvious that there's a rhythm to Life and Death and everything inbetween, but I don't think that I'm supposed to be... guarding or maintaining or ushering along that cycle. Andraste's about War and Conquest and Victory-- It's not about killing or dealing Death, it's the affirmation of Life and Right that she has instead. She's also got domain over Love and Fertility, but I'm not quite there yet."
ThaneThane looks like he's about to say something when she says that she doesn't care about the cycle but he hushes himself shh good Thane quiet Thane Thane who listens to apprentices speak. He listens; they're at a fence; behind the fence are some sheep. He leans against the fence and looks at the sheep, their dirty faces, their thick rilled coats, woolly still from winter and in need of sheering. Sheep are the dumbest creatures and he watches them with pleasure, but his thoughts are for Margot and what Margot is saying.
"Are you willing to put work into becoming one of the Verbena?"
"Are you willing to make sacrifice, not just a hare here and there, a crow or a magpie, but personal sacrifice too?"
"What do you think about repercussions; about consequences?"
"We care about the cycle, though we don't give a shit about maintaining it or doing what it is the Thanatonics do. Well we give somthing of a shit, it's just there's a lot of Life to fuck around with Life's the gift that we're given and it's from Life we get our power. Life and Her, whatever form you think she takes."
MargotThane's first question had Margot raising one eyebrow with skeptical curiosity and turning her head to look at him directly. The expression didn't fade much while he continued with his other questions-- about sacrafice and consequence. About how she should care about the cycle because they do, just differently from how the Chakravanti do.
Her lips pressed together thin, holding back words until she'd thought them through a little more. Margot was very smart, very smart indeed, but the quick-on-the-spot wit wasn't her wheelhouse. She was quick enough, certainly. Didn't have to hesitate too terribly long.
"I'm not afraid of work. I'll work fingers away to bone... for the right cause." There's a hint of flint there. That sounds like a statement she's willing to carve onto stone and stand herself beside when pressed.
"The same goes for sacrafice. It depends on what the sacrafice is for."
Her gaze lingered on Thane's profile for a moment more before swinging out toward-past-over the sheep and into the horizon. "I don't know yet what the Verbenae are worth-- no offense," she added quickly, sounding like she was flinching a little for the possible careless insult. "Where are you driving with these questions, if that's not too forward?"
Thane"Nah it's not too forward of course not and don't worry," he grins, easy as anything, easy as the tide rolls in, easy as the wind combing through the distant fields, "I don't take offense easily, especially not when it's a Disparate trying to figure shit out. So. I'm not a college recruiter, I'm not going to woo you into joining the Verbena, I'm not a seducer of maidens, I'm going to answer your questions if you have any about my Tradition, I'm going to judge how well I think you would fit in my Tradition, whether or not you're just attached to the idea of being called 'Witch' and the idea of blood or if there's anything more to your desire, whether there CAN be anything more to your desire. I think if you wanted to pursue the Verbena I'd teach you or try to hook you up with a proper nearby mentor and help you work toward Initiation, but I'm not sure. You say you don't know yet what the Verbenae are worth; well every Tradition is worth the world. Except for fucking 'depts, you gotta take them on an individual basis, because they will hack your life and 'dox the fuck out of you. I don't like it; it's too overwhelming. I hope I'm not offending you. It's just people get all attached to this idea think they know what a Verbena is and does and then they get squeamish, or they just want the power and the trappings, none of the fucking responsibility and joy."
MargotMargot lifted a hand to push her hair back behind her ears, one at a time. She adjusted how she was standing on the fence and looped her legs overtop the middle rung instead of standing on the bottom. This let her sit in the fence instead of stand.
"Maybe I am just attached to the concept of a Witch. I feel like there's a big signifigance to the Earth. Like, I know that Andraste's a Goddess and that has to do with the realm of Spirits, but she's Here as well as There. More than that, part of the Earth as much as she is part of the Umbra.
"I feel a tug to the oceans. I feel a pull into the deep rich dirts under our feet. Like that's where all of Her and My magic would come from. Which seems very Earth Child but I don't think I'll be spending my time blooming botanicals and helping cure ailments by growing the Earth. That's a different realm, a different Goddess."
She looked down at her fingernails and before her and examined the lines and groves in them.
"I don't think I'll always be squeamish...," she said, sounding more than a little self conscious for a moment-- no doubt, her squeamishness had become an issue she was called out on recently. "I'm working on it."
Thane"Nobody expects you to be a stoic bad ass to start, or to be up to the elbows in sweat and shit right away," Thane says, encouragingly. "Being squeamish is part of it, at least at first. What you're not getting, and this is fine too by the way you don't have to understand everything or be drawn to all aspects of Her, especially not now, I mean, shit, you are fucking new, there are Disciples and Adepts still working on it, but what you're not getting is there's healing even to War. Maybe you're not going to a grower of things, that's fine. But there is a tradition of certain herbs for certain Craftworks for certain Goddesses for certain spirits. Andraste might hold some of these sacred too; even mistle toe was not just for kissing way back when. Mistletoe was for war. "
Thane runs his fingers through his hair, flopping it off his brow. And it stays flopped that way, a bouffant of dark wave. "I mean you practice in your own way, as long as you respect and believe in the Old Ways, can see the connection between your service to them and the rest..."
He trails away. What was he saying? He hmms and then says, "So yeah. I guess, you gotta make a choice. What do you need to know in order to decide about the Verbena?"
Margot"Old Ways," she repeated quietly. "I think that's why I was drawn in too. Doc said I'm Primordial. My magick feels very Old."
Then, the question. What would it take for her to know whether she was going to take the plunge? Her brow furrowed some, and she turned about at the waist and shoulder to look at Thane better when she answered.
"Well, I suppose what these Holy Days are, and what exactly I'm agreeing to worship. And what is all entailed in joining-- what do I have to do to join? What kind of hiearchy am I agreeing to follow? Are there leaders I'm supposed to be answering to, certain rules or codes I'm supposed to live by..." She frowned-- this was the part that she didn't like about Traditions. Trying hard to align her own understanding, loose as it was, within the boundaries of another's belief system.
"I don't know how much you know about the cabal Pen and Nick and me had together, oh and Ari, do you know Arianna yet? She stayed with the Mars-Hydes, ha ha I don't think Nick took any part of Penelope's Craft Name, but it feels strange to call them the Hydes, what was I saying oh right, anyway. We were a pretty big cabal and had a very difficult year. We lost one of our own, and then ... well there was a lot of really heavy bad stuff, there usually is heavy bad stuff, but this was more harrowing, and after all that was done well we were okay for a while but it got a lot harder and there were a lot of arguments and finally a straw broke the camel's back. I think we all need a threshold time apart, pursuing different goals. Not Pen and Nick, they're good together, but the rest of us."
"Anyway, that's what happened. We're still friends who care about one another, see I came all this way and braved the airport! Motherfuckers searched me and called me a fucking towel head; no respect for consequences among airline security!"
"What Tradition do you think your friend is gonna be? His name's," and Thane, mellow brown eyes (oh, but it had sparked; a certain sort of knife edge resolution at some point during his ramble) soulful and blank, has clearly forgotten whether or not he ever knew Ned's name. "Follow in the Ether man's footsteps?"
MargotMargot was beginning to put together the broad pieces of the puzzle that was Thane-- at least, as far as surface Thanes go. He was talkative, and Margot thankfully had some experience with that. Doc was talkative. William was talkative. Ned could get so talkative that the Doc had actually limited to a 140 word count as though this were Real Life Twitter. Thane's talkative habits may have once had Margot floundering to keep up and interject in conversation, but she had experience now.
So Thane went on, with a few questions smattered here and there, and Margot just cast her eyes to the glimpse of cows behind a fence up ahead. When the Verbena man lost that moment's steam, the little witch piped up in a voice that was now, as it often was, soft and thoughtful.
"I did meet Arianna. She makes a good impression-- very regal. I've never met somebody who takes Traditions so seriously." As for her friend, his name...
"His name is Ned." Edward (one presumed, he's never told her outright), but he introduced himself as Ned and so Ned he was even if Doc insisted on using full names. Good thing her name was its own full name already. Nobody's gotten familiar enough to try shortening it on her yet.
Her head shook as she continued on, casting a shadow of doubt on the question of whether Ned would join the Society of Ether. "No, Ned's not a Scientist. He does Work, not Science. I suppose if I were going to take a guess, I would peg him for a Chakravanti. He's... closely tied to death and very intense. But a lot of his Work rests on Sensation, and that's a Cultist's trademark isn't it?" Her brow furrowed. She was having trouble picturing her partner-in-learning as a Cultist of Ecstacy, even though she'd seen him Work through inebriation several times before.
Thane"Ehhh. The Ecstatics would have you think so and I guess maybe it is, but every Tradition or most Traditions have some sort of practice which relies on Sensation, including mine, including the Dreamspeakers. If your pal Ned is closely tied to Death I wouldn't necessarily say the Wheel Turners are the Tradition for him as attractive as Nicholas makes it seem it can tarnish a person if they're not careful too much Death too much looking beyond Death and forgetting about the bloody viscera of now, I mean, uh, no I'm not saying it wouldn't work for him, just it's a mistake to think about Chakravanti as the Tradition that deals with Death or to focus on Death if that's what you're inclined to, or it can be a mistake, whatever, you get me I hope. Harder to pin down a Dreamspeaker though and they're so fucking different one from the other, lots of what I think of as mini Traditions. Uh, fuck, Kha'vadi, I'm an asshole I should remember that name. They changed it recently. A lot of us did, us Traditions."
He doesn't pause; but some gravitas (Primordial, see [older than old, before there were shadows]) creeps in.
"Not the Verbenae, though. We've always stuck by the Ancient Ways, we always will. Though there seems to be a push for the proper Latinized plural," Thane sounds amused by this push. "Dollars to donuts that some Verbena who caballed with a bunch of Hermetics decided to make that push."
Thaneooc: wait! change first sentence to: "including mine, including the Dreamspeakers, hell the Order has some crazy fun sex rituals. I don't think the Society or V-depts have any but Technomancers and me we haven't gotten along all that well."
MargotThane mentioned Dreamspeakers, and Margot shook her head. "No, Ned doesn't do spirits. That's my thing." As though she had a patent on it or something, when the truth of the matter was that she was the only one out of her small would-be Cabal who could sense the Gauntlet and Umbra and Spirits and Ghosts. They relied on her, and she felt something particularly in-sync with spirits anyways. Perhaps she would have been a good
"It's all just names," she assured him when he spoke of how he should remember the new Dreamspeaker Tradition and how the word Verbena should be pluralized through Latin formals. "I mean, I know there's plenty of power to a name for some of us, but hey-- there's plenty of power to a pile of shit to some of us too."
She paused thoughtfully, then asked:
"Do you think he would be a good Verbena?"
ThaneNed doesn't do spirits. "Well the Hermetics have a lot going on, you gotta be book smart as fuck though, or else you're kind of shit out of luck, and there's a lot of room for variety in the Cult too. Depends on how he uses Sensation, whether he can get down with their code. Everything's got a code you know."
He laughs, "That was a very Verbena thing you just said, that part about shit," and his eyes spark with this gold quality, this is a metaphor, right, but the golden quality it's heath all dredged with light all warmed by far and away, and now he looks sidelong at Margot.
They've walked. There are cows. "Oh, you mean Ned? I can't say I'm sure I mean I don't even know if you'd be a good Verbena yet though the signs do seem to be there I get it. What's a 'good' Verbena? But he might be, we deal with the full gamut, we're here now, we've been here for a while, but we you and I we are here right fucking now, and to Work you have to experience that. No shrinking. That's hard sometimes, but ehh..."
"So Margot, why do you want to be a Verbena? Do you still wanna be a Verbena? How'd you even fix on the idea Pen didn't say."
MargotThe Hermetics got another shake of the head, but she didn't explain herself on that one aloud. They came to a stop where the cows were penned up and Margot stepped up onto the bottom rung of the fence, hooked her arms over the top rung and rested her chin on her criss-crossed wrists.
"Because I'm a Witch. Or I feel like one. I'm not a Scientist, though, I know that much. I don't know what others may define themselves as... wizards? Saints? I don't think that words carry power, but I know that Blood and War do." She cleared her throat and explained further.
"My Avatar's a Goddess of War. She picked me out and opened my eyes. So the only things that work for me are what work for her-- Blood and War."
She looked matter-of-fact but quietly conflicted both. Margot didn't come across as particularly violent.
Thane"Okay and why do you think that matches up with the Verbena? Why not the Order? They have people whose Avatars manifest as goddesses of War. Why not the Chakravanti? Blood and War usually man Death, mean the Wheel is turning and winter is coming," a faint smirk because he gets the pop culture reference a moment after he makes it this somber whisper of a thing in his eyes. "What is it you know about the Verbena specifically which speaks to you?"
Thaneooc: ahem, 'man Death' = 'mean Death'
MargotIt was a valid question that Margot had to think long and hard about. She was quiet for a time before answering, soft and quiet and thoughtful as ever.
"I don't care about the cycle. Or the Circle. I suppose that it's obvious that there's a rhythm to Life and Death and everything inbetween, but I don't think that I'm supposed to be... guarding or maintaining or ushering along that cycle. Andraste's about War and Conquest and Victory-- It's not about killing or dealing Death, it's the affirmation of Life and Right that she has instead. She's also got domain over Love and Fertility, but I'm not quite there yet."
ThaneThane looks like he's about to say something when she says that she doesn't care about the cycle but he hushes himself shh good Thane quiet Thane Thane who listens to apprentices speak. He listens; they're at a fence; behind the fence are some sheep. He leans against the fence and looks at the sheep, their dirty faces, their thick rilled coats, woolly still from winter and in need of sheering. Sheep are the dumbest creatures and he watches them with pleasure, but his thoughts are for Margot and what Margot is saying.
"Are you willing to put work into becoming one of the Verbena?"
"Are you willing to make sacrifice, not just a hare here and there, a crow or a magpie, but personal sacrifice too?"
"What do you think about repercussions; about consequences?"
"We care about the cycle, though we don't give a shit about maintaining it or doing what it is the Thanatonics do. Well we give somthing of a shit, it's just there's a lot of Life to fuck around with Life's the gift that we're given and it's from Life we get our power. Life and Her, whatever form you think she takes."
MargotThane's first question had Margot raising one eyebrow with skeptical curiosity and turning her head to look at him directly. The expression didn't fade much while he continued with his other questions-- about sacrafice and consequence. About how she should care about the cycle because they do, just differently from how the Chakravanti do.
Her lips pressed together thin, holding back words until she'd thought them through a little more. Margot was very smart, very smart indeed, but the quick-on-the-spot wit wasn't her wheelhouse. She was quick enough, certainly. Didn't have to hesitate too terribly long.
"I'm not afraid of work. I'll work fingers away to bone... for the right cause." There's a hint of flint there. That sounds like a statement she's willing to carve onto stone and stand herself beside when pressed.
"The same goes for sacrafice. It depends on what the sacrafice is for."
Her gaze lingered on Thane's profile for a moment more before swinging out toward-past-over the sheep and into the horizon. "I don't know yet what the Verbenae are worth-- no offense," she added quickly, sounding like she was flinching a little for the possible careless insult. "Where are you driving with these questions, if that's not too forward?"
Thane"Nah it's not too forward of course not and don't worry," he grins, easy as anything, easy as the tide rolls in, easy as the wind combing through the distant fields, "I don't take offense easily, especially not when it's a Disparate trying to figure shit out. So. I'm not a college recruiter, I'm not going to woo you into joining the Verbena, I'm not a seducer of maidens, I'm going to answer your questions if you have any about my Tradition, I'm going to judge how well I think you would fit in my Tradition, whether or not you're just attached to the idea of being called 'Witch' and the idea of blood or if there's anything more to your desire, whether there CAN be anything more to your desire. I think if you wanted to pursue the Verbena I'd teach you or try to hook you up with a proper nearby mentor and help you work toward Initiation, but I'm not sure. You say you don't know yet what the Verbenae are worth; well every Tradition is worth the world. Except for fucking 'depts, you gotta take them on an individual basis, because they will hack your life and 'dox the fuck out of you. I don't like it; it's too overwhelming. I hope I'm not offending you. It's just people get all attached to this idea think they know what a Verbena is and does and then they get squeamish, or they just want the power and the trappings, none of the fucking responsibility and joy."
MargotMargot lifted a hand to push her hair back behind her ears, one at a time. She adjusted how she was standing on the fence and looped her legs overtop the middle rung instead of standing on the bottom. This let her sit in the fence instead of stand.
"Maybe I am just attached to the concept of a Witch. I feel like there's a big signifigance to the Earth. Like, I know that Andraste's a Goddess and that has to do with the realm of Spirits, but she's Here as well as There. More than that, part of the Earth as much as she is part of the Umbra.
"I feel a tug to the oceans. I feel a pull into the deep rich dirts under our feet. Like that's where all of Her and My magic would come from. Which seems very Earth Child but I don't think I'll be spending my time blooming botanicals and helping cure ailments by growing the Earth. That's a different realm, a different Goddess."
She looked down at her fingernails and before her and examined the lines and groves in them.
"I don't think I'll always be squeamish...," she said, sounding more than a little self conscious for a moment-- no doubt, her squeamishness had become an issue she was called out on recently. "I'm working on it."
Thane"Nobody expects you to be a stoic bad ass to start, or to be up to the elbows in sweat and shit right away," Thane says, encouragingly. "Being squeamish is part of it, at least at first. What you're not getting, and this is fine too by the way you don't have to understand everything or be drawn to all aspects of Her, especially not now, I mean, shit, you are fucking new, there are Disciples and Adepts still working on it, but what you're not getting is there's healing even to War. Maybe you're not going to a grower of things, that's fine. But there is a tradition of certain herbs for certain Craftworks for certain Goddesses for certain spirits. Andraste might hold some of these sacred too; even mistle toe was not just for kissing way back when. Mistletoe was for war. "
Thane runs his fingers through his hair, flopping it off his brow. And it stays flopped that way, a bouffant of dark wave. "I mean you practice in your own way, as long as you respect and believe in the Old Ways, can see the connection between your service to them and the rest..."
He trails away. What was he saying? He hmms and then says, "So yeah. I guess, you gotta make a choice. What do you need to know in order to decide about the Verbena?"
Margot"Old Ways," she repeated quietly. "I think that's why I was drawn in too. Doc said I'm Primordial. My magick feels very Old."
Then, the question. What would it take for her to know whether she was going to take the plunge? Her brow furrowed some, and she turned about at the waist and shoulder to look at Thane better when she answered.
"Well, I suppose what these Holy Days are, and what exactly I'm agreeing to worship. And what is all entailed in joining-- what do I have to do to join? What kind of hiearchy am I agreeing to follow? Are there leaders I'm supposed to be answering to, certain rules or codes I'm supposed to live by..." She frowned-- this was the part that she didn't like about Traditions. Trying hard to align her own understanding, loose as it was, within the boundaries of another's belief system.
[To Be Continued]
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