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spellbinders2017-10-31 08:54 pm
spellbindmods) wrote in spellbinders2017-10-31 08:54 pm
[HUB ISLAND | IT'S NOT HALLOW BUT I'M FEELING WEENIE]
Who: All coven members
Where: Coven base camp, around the island
When: Day It's Not Halloween, What Do You Mean
Open/Closed: Open to (h)All(oween)
Where: Coven base camp, around the island
When: Day It's Not Halloween, What Do You Mean
Open/Closed: Open to (h)All(oween)
Tonight is a night like any other. There's no calendar with no holiday...but some tiny events seem to line up with a coincidental, theoretical holiday.
All good questions, all with no answers. The important thing is that in the central part of the island, a fast growing gourd plant has taken over a lot of the trees in the area. The long, thick vines have choked out a lot of trees, with bumpy green pumpkin-type plants growing along them and hanging fatly from the trunks. Inside are fragrant seeds and a milk-like substance that's sweet. They're all very thick and squatty, making them good for soup. For carving? Well, you can try! B ▢ As a pre-celebratory gesture, Brie has brought out a festive little chest. If you happen to complete your Bonus AC, you're welcome to your customized dagger right now, complete with your name inscribed on the hilt. Everyone can take stuff from the chest, though. Inside are hundreds of pieces of candy -- some are pretty well preserved, but others have that weird ass grey separated stuff that happens to chocolate after a while. What kind of candy? If you can dream it, it's probably in there. Just only take a couple pieces or Brie might stab you. C ▢ ...Actually, she doesn't really have time to stab you. Brie is quietly taking people aside and showing people this little map she's found. Well, it appears to be a map. The outline on the paper is roughly the same shape and size as the island, scaled down, and it's covered in tiny red dots, scattered throughout the landscape. She's got a hunch that these dots mean something -- buried treasure. She's only one person, and there are tens of dots on this map. Her price for letting you in on this little venture is half of whatever you find...or at least access to it. She's digging up holes on her own...here's a shovel, go dig for yourself! D ▢ What can you find located in the group? Honestly, the item variety is wide and expansive. Most of the items are small tins, containing a piece of paper with a small story (more on this later, huhuhu), clipped photograph and little item -- these are up to your discretion! However, despite the island being absent of magic, these tins all seem to have an enchantment or hex placed upon them. The effects are varied. Some tins fill up with a black, inky tar-like substance that won't stop pouring out. Some tins act like vacuums and attempt to suck your arm into a black hole they contain. Others will emit a disgusting smell, begin screaming...and these are just a few of the weird wonders they contain. The verdict? These appear to be time capsules that are unhappy they were lifted from the ground too early! (OOC: The tins are the size of those Danish butter cookie tins we all use as sewing kits; you know what I mean.) E ▢ Some lucky coven members actually get something better than a broken toy. Others contain tons of cold coins, beautiful antiques (like compacts, compasses and pocket telescopes. Stuff like that)!. Are you lucky enough to dig up actual treasure? (OOC: Want to test your luck? See if your character finds an actually worthwhile find when you reply to this thread.) F ▢ Those with the cursed items will eventually find that midnight strikes and the carriage has become a pumpkin...well, sort of. At midnight, all of the cursed artifacts (not those nice shiny ones) become potatoes. That's good news in its own right -- potatoes are a food! But it's sort of disappoint and very starchy. |
no subject
Old Norse mythology, familiar to him, as Gjallarhorn's heroes had named their organization through those origins. Another little thrill is experienced to hear it, the incredible and impossible notion that he's now seated on a symbol taken from the ancient mythos of his world. Not a symbol, however... a living being, one who speaks to him. One who is comfortable with humans, enough to make him even more curious about Geir and his past.
Vern?
He settles into the gap high on the dragon's back, grasping onto the ridges when his dragon companion stands to full height. As high as this before, as high as space itself, but there's nothing machine-made between himself and Geir. It's a completely different experience.
Nothing except two organic beings creating it, and this new viewpoint that he takes in with a quick inhale. His eyes slide back to Geir's and those impressive features, eyes that are still a bit wide, unable to mask the total sum of his wonder. A tiny bit of fear there, too, yet not enough to deter him, hands gripping tighter at the question.
And he's usually so good at masks. ]
Yes, I'm ready.
[ Now or never... ]
no subject
[Geir normally wouldn't give more warning than he's given already, since he enjoys the yells of surprise that approach brings him... but the hint of fear in the cast of McGillis's face inspires him to the extra courtesy. if the human has never done anything like this before, he'll surely be surprised anyway.
to him, there's no strangeness or unfamiliarity in either the symbolic nature of his existence, or the vital and organic sensation of flying. Geir crouches and spreads his (biologically improbable, aerodynamically impossible) wings further before flinging himself into the sky in a storm of flapping, making it as dramatic as he can for McGillis's benefit. their ascension is a wild swoop, clawing at the air, and everything is a whirlwind of wingbeats until Geir mercifully makes his final swoop and lets his flight level out. he turns on a wingtip into a wide circle that will let McGillis's stomach settle from their daring plunge and let him get his bearings; he can't help laughing a bit, too, at his own theatrics.]
--hahaha...!
no subject
Without a cockpit surrounding him, this incredible ascension makes him tense and grip to the point where his hands begin to ache. Geir takes off with speed and showiness both in bounds and their surroundings become a blur. His stomach twists into a knot, but at least having experience as a pilot, he's able to retain most of his dignity as he goes soaring into the sky on the back of a giant dragon.
Incredible. He can barely believe it's not another dream.
A gasp or two, at most, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heart thunders in his ears as Geir levels out, circling the airway with enormous, flagging wings, and -- laughing.
Hair windswept, eyes big, he blinks in succession while the sound of a dragon's booming laugh registers on his radar along with his new vantage point. Slowly, a grin eclipses surprised features.
After a settling pause, he joins him in laughter. More delicate a sound, but it's difficult to tamp down. ]
Quite the take-off, Geir -- you don't believe in the gentle approach with newcomers, do you? I respect that.
[ Strange, to feel as light as this in the moment. It's rare; he takes it in stride. ]
no subject
[Geir's still deeply amused, powerful wings pumping in slow beats to more gently lift them higher as he spirals upwards. from here, it's easy to see the island spread out below them, and to use his keen eyesight to pinpoint the spot on McGillis's map. he angles his flight in that direction, letting the wind press against both their faces.
it never fails to give him a (metaphorical) lift when flying for the first time seems to cheer someone up. he remembers flying with Vern the first time, and how ebullient Vern was at the experience... it was a reaction that changed everything for both of them. this isn't that, but there's still something exhilarating about sharing the sky with someone. he took flight being commonplace for granted for as long as he took for granted that a creature born only for destruction couldn't truly make someone else happier by sharing something with them, and neither was the truth.
and then, of course... there's that slyly humorous side of him, that just likes startling others. McGillis seemed so composed that that part is out in full force here too.]
Haha, I thought you could handle it. ♪
no subject
But this, flying with Geir, is unique to all three.
Tilting his head back against the force of the wind, McGillis takes a moment to shut his eyes and savor the new experience. A sense of freedom shared, so unlike his understanding of the solitude that must be obtained before freedom can truly be grasped. A creature born for destruction but determined towards another goal -- they might be one in the same, in that.
He laughs again, heartier, eyes opening to slits only to flash with a wild glint. ]
How correct you were! There's very little I cannot handle.
[ oof, cocky.
He then peers up and over Geir's ears, trying to take stock of the shape of the land beneath them and recall their destination. ]
It looks like we'll land shortly. Too bad.
no subject
[there's a flash of Geir's own sense of cockiness to be read in that; something in the lilt of his voice tells McGillis what the grin on his face looks like. he loops into another spiral, wafting them upwards in a gust of air to survey the landscape below from ever-higher heights... and frankly, to show off his fancy flying. he can turn on a wingtip smoothly and quickly, without it even feeling like an upset. his skill may be logically impossible and due to his legendary origin, but that doesn't mean he's not good.
the location specified on the map is, alas, easy to see from here. another quick pass over the next ridge will bring them to where x marks the spot.
...but why not make that a really fast pass?]
Hey, hang on reeeally tight now--
[Geir folds his wings, dropping into a dive like a stone.]
no subject
Well, surely there will be a need or reason for it at another time.
For now, he's going to enjoy what's left of the trip, appreciative of the added confidence Geir brings to the table, even the mischievous hint laid in his tone. It's clear that he's proud of his abilities. There's no reason he shouldn't be, after all. He has tight control of himself in the air, McGillis notes with a smirk, as they loop higher into the sky and his stomach tightens once again.
He'd like the opportunity to do something mischievous too, like surprise Geir by turning into a dragon that can fly at his side. Unfortunately, that will have to wait. It's a work in progress. Right as he begins thinking on this future plan, Geir gives him a warning, a precursor to what will probably be... ]
Wh--
[ An insanely fast drop. McGillis holds on with every ounce of strength he has, holding his breath too. Once they begin to level out again, he finds that he's dipped so low in between the ridges that he's practically clutching onto Geir with his entire body, stomach-down.
While slowly poking his head up again, he exhales. ]
Thank you, I've learned my lesson about encouraging you. Even if I can handle it.
[ Good natured ribbing. ]
no worries!
W-whew! That was fun.
[he shakes his wings and spine out, not hard enough to dislodge McGillis, and folds them neatly to his back. mission accomplished!]
no subject
He might take Geir up on that offer to fly with him again sometime, so long as it isn't too presumptuous to expect from him. He loosens his hold, then sits up straight to retrieve the map from his pocket and check it, remaining perched in the same spot while Geir folds his wings to his back. ]
An exhilarating trip. We've reached our destination in no time.
[ Again, if he'd flown on his own, that would've taken more time. ]
Do you suppose we'll find anything of value? Or perhaps curiosity will kill the cat.
[ He hasn't ruled out the possibility that "treasure" could be something more sinister in reality... but he doesn't sound particularly deterred, either.
besides he's with a fuckin' dragon ]
no subject
[he's a stereotypical dragon that way. the instinct to hoard is always a strong one, and perhaps they'll at least find some shiny object -- that would be delightful. in the best case scenario, it would be some kind of jewelry or finery that he could press on Vern.]
Where exactly does the map say it is? I can try digging first, if you want.
[Geir's sense of confidence may be contagious. he really does feel up to handling whatever the map will bring.]
no subject
McGillis is mostly in this for the experience. Why sit out on the activity when it provides a chance to become more familiar with the island and its surroundings? It helps that they'er both overconfident about any danger they might encounter. Each time Geir feeds into that energy, McGillis does the same. ]
Yes, between the two of us, I'm certain we can handle anything.
[ Peering at the map, he looks up for one of the exact marked spots. Staying on Geir's back is giving him a good vantage point of the land around them, so he doesn't make a move to leave just yet. ]
Up ahead. Over by that tree.
[ Pointing, leaning over so Geir can see. ]
I suspect you'll be faster with it, but I'll do my part to help.
[ Those big claws... that immense strength... really, he thinks he couldn't have found a better partner for this. And now it's time to push the button for the claw elevator, figuratively speaking. ]
Would you mind helping me down first?
no subject
[Geir turns back and extends his claws for McGillis to climb into again. despite his protestations that McGillis can handle it, he lowers him to the ground carefully: giving him a bit of a thrill is one thing, but Geir has no interest in a passenger actually being in danger. it would be easy enough for him to hurt a human if he wanted to, so doing it through carelessness doesn't have any appeal to him.]
I'll start digging and you can finish once we get down a little way... if it's something small, I won't be as good at picking it up or noticing it. This probably wasn't buried by a dragon.
[his vision and fine control are very good, but in the end, he just isn't as close to the ground. and it seems likely that the people who used to live in this place were human... at least, that's what all the signs so far point to, Geir thinks.
he starts towards the indicated tree at an easy pace, letting McGillis keep up.]
I've never been treasure hunting like this before...!
no subject
What was the name he mentioned before? ]
Excellent point. Let's keep to that plan.
[ McGillis strolls towards the map point at Geir's side. He has to tilt his head far back in order to catch those large reptilian eyes as he speaks. A smirk upturns his mouth, the expression good humored and natural. ]
How were your prior experiences with treasure hunting in comparison? Did you unearth anything valuable?
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[Geir grins reminisciently. it's hard for him to bring up the image of Angrboda's hall and the storage room where Loki surreptitiously stashed what he'd picked up for a couple of months before disappearing again, but he makes the effort anyway. the memory is worn ragged and soft-edged with time, but it's still a good one.]
I did find some great arm rings once, but Mom caught me with them and took them back. And I think I saw Sif's hair once. I was never sure, though.
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He has to admit to curiosity about Geir's family and his life in general. So many questions. The way he speaks now almost makes him sound like a child, which he very well might be. Come to think of it, that would fall in line with his mischievous behaviour. ]
I see. You were more of a troublemaker than a treasure hunter, at least before now.
[ Just teasing. Smirk deepening.
They reach the tree marked on the map, McGillis stopping at the approximate spot. ]
It should be right here. Shall we?
no subject
Right! Got it.
[he makes quick work of getting about six feet into the earth, digging by cutting the sod into chunks and removing them more than by scooping the ground out. he's trying to be careful of the plants there and the tree's roots -- he's not really thinking about it as a conscious problem solving process, but he instinctively doesn't really want to kill everything growing in and around this spot in the course of their excavation.]