http://goddessnanshe.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] estdeus_innobis2012-02-14 06:50 pm

the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes...

Morning of 21st June

It's still raining, though not as heavily as earlier, but I couldn't wait any longer to come out here and see what has happened. I was wakened in the early hours of Sunday by a strange feeling of pressure and brilliant light, but my cell was completely dark. I walked through the abbey, and all was still and shadowed. Anyone else would say I had just had a dream - but I know there is no just to dreams.

In the afternoon, one of the novices came back from gathering in the woods to say that there was the strangest sight: a charred circle, as if lightning had struck and destroyed a neat section of the forest. Something about this oddity set my teeth on edge, and I was resolved to see it; but I had duties at the abbey in the evening, and I would not shirk them.

Today I woke to a downpour, but I have borrowed a raincoat from Sister Dove - she is slighter than me, and so it is a little tight, but it will do - and wrapped up my hair with a scarf to help shield it from the rain, since carrying an umbrella into the woods seems foolish - and I start walking the couple of miles to where Novice Diana said she saw the circle.

[OPEN][closed]

[identity profile] syl-thorn.livejournal.com 2012-03-06 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"Given what happened ta the trees, I think lookin' ta find anything left over of anyone this was actually aimed at is maybe a bit optimistic." Says th'dep'ty, soundin' right gloomy.

"Human body's harder t'burn'n y'might think." I says, lookin' 'round. "Chances are we'd see somma th'big bones...leg, skull, hip, 'at sorta thin'...mebbe th'heart too, though some critter mighta carried'at off. Jes'd 'spect t'see some trace, y'know? Rather'n nothin'."

Then'e mutters somethin' I almost don't catch. "Not Donner, then."

'course'e says'at right when'm lightin' up a cig, an'I end up spittin't out onta th'grass. "Good fuck no!" I says, gaspin'. "Who'n Christ's name'd want that fucker back?"
Edited 2012-03-06 18:04 (UTC)

[identity profile] jack-hollow.livejournal.com 2012-03-07 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Human body's harder t'burn'n y'might think," which is a fair point. An' Miss Nanshe seems ta know who she means as well, which is rather gettin' me curious over all--

Take a damn quick step back as Syl spits out her cigarette, and barely stop myself from steppin' on the damn thing, even if it's raining. Damn things. Pick it up, anyway, and offer it back to her, 'case it's still any good.

"Who'n Christ's name'd want that fucker back?"

"C'n think of a coupla people, maybe. Not in his name, though." Wanda's ex-husband. Karina or Maryk or Leah, if they had some idea of pinning it on him instead. Someone who took it especially hard over one a' the women he killed and wants him back just ta hurt him--hope like Christ it isn't that.

"Er..." Sigh and run my hand back over my head, and my fingers come away wet--still holding my hat over my notebook to keep it dry. "Miss Thorn," I say, quiet an' polite. "You mentioned maybe seein' more if you went into a trance; was wonderin' how likely that was. An' I'm guessing you both know who it was that came back, and I understand," dipping my head to Miss Noma, "if ya feel you can't tell me. But I'd surely appreciate anything eithera you can tell me, since the general tone of your moods on this is havin' me worry some 'bout the state of my town, an' what might be done to it."
Edited 2012-03-07 23:08 (UTC)

[identity profile] jack-hollow.livejournal.com 2012-03-11 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
"It's a god who has come back. And I don't think he means ill, but he doesn't usually mean well, either. Nothing might come of it; he lived here mostly quietly enough before. But." An' there ain't nothing I can really say to that for a minute. Don't like the idea of gods trolling through town in the first place, since the ones we've had showin' up in the last year don't generally seem ta be doin' much good, an' can't say I think much of the judgment of whoever brought him back.

'course, that leads ta the question of what the hell got him getting gone in the first place...

"Thank you, Miss Noma," I say, touching my hand ta my forehead. Rain's dripping in my eyes, I guess. "I'll be takin' a look into that." Wish I could offer her my coat or somethin', but it ain't as if she didn't dress sensibly for comin' out. Still. "C'n see you and Miss Thorn back, when you care t'leave."

[identity profile] syl-thorn.livejournal.com 2012-03-17 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
Dep'ty hints on me goin' inta trance, an'I ain't real eager t'do'at. Not wittis many folk 'round. But Nanshe steps in. "It's a god who has come back. And I don't think he means ill, but he doesn't usually mean well, either. Nothing might come of it; he lived here mostly quietly enough before. But."

Wish she hadn't gone inta'at much detail, but guess th'dep'ty wuzn't gonna leave us 'lone 'less'e got some kinda answer.

Dep'ty nods an' thanks'er. "I'll be takin' a look into that. C'n see you and Miss Thorn back, when you care t'leave."

"'m okay," I says, shruggin'. "Jes' gotta get back t'th'lot mself." take a handful 'a ashes, pull up some grass'n earth from th'unburned circle. Like t'havva good look later. "Guess'll see you folks 'round."