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Vasyl
Philadelphia's political landscape is such that there are several places a turncoat Guardian of the Veil and former Consilium Councilor-- albeit of a different city in a different convocation on a different continent over a decade ago --might run into an incoming Mysterium Savant. Almost all of them permit that meeting to be on purpose. Especially if one of the two individuals is an Acanthus and absolutely willing to abuse his connection with fate to ensure the meeting.
So it is that when Bones comes to visit the tree, possibly for the first time, there is a surly slavic man seated on the perfected slate stone ledge that forms the massive tree's raised bed. The little objects the Children leave to perfect in the bawn of the tree's influence remain scattered out on that same stone ledge, waiting for the Mother's blessing so the tradition goes.
Mind you, he's not sure who he's waiting for beyond 'Bones'. So he has no way of knowing if he's hit the mark yet or not. Still, he looks suddenly as hopeful as a slavic man of his nationality can at the moment.
Bones
Tommy Shanks, known among Mages as Bones, walks into the Consilium for the first time, indeed. The Acanthus' fate and time knowledge seemed to work for him this day. She wears a simple black dress, professional length, with a style that would befit a Doctor lecturing infront of a class. Knee-length, cut halfway to the elbow, and a peak of decolletage.
A genderfluid individual of Mexican and European Spanish descent, their features were rounded and smooth, with deep brown eyes, and currently just past the shoulder-length brown hair. As she steps in, she pauses, something tickling her senses for the first time.
So much of that in the city, she thought, obvious on her face, Need to get adjusted to the new flows
Vasyl
"Master Bones?" Vasya's accent is present, and actually rather thick. It has the consequence of rendering his words into a tone Americans often hear as sarcastic or at the very least unimpressed. It doesn't really jive with his expression, however. That remains vaguely hopeful.
"I have been waiting for over twelve minutes, so I hope it is you. Wasting time is agonizing when you're a Master of it. You know?" He points at himself. "Master Pavlichenko. I can give you the whole business if you are one of those types. I have it written down here, somewhere." He begins patting his coveralls.
Bones
"Ah, yes," she smiled and bowed to Pavlichenko, the polite bend of the back and tuck of the shoulders, before offering her hand, "I am indeed the one they call Bones. The show was very popular when I awakened," she chortles a bit.
Vasyl
"I very much liked that show," Vasya admits, "but for my money, he never did a better turn than in Doctor Horrible's Sing-a-Long Blog. The Hammer. Classic villain. Reminds me of Panopticon more than a little." Vasya's eyes grow a little distant, "I forget his name now. Unimporant. But it was a good show. What is she doing now? The not annoying Deschanele? I hope she retired on a bed of money." He then rightly points out, as though being reminded by someone off-screen and unheard, "Yes, and that is beside the point entirely. How does one become a savant in occult semiotics. What does that look like? Put another way, if you were a tool and I was a boy scout, how might I best make a canoe?"
(I should probably inquire if you've got some sort of spirit vision up as a habit.)
Bones
She pauses and studies the Ukranian with a steady gaze, analyzing the questions and metaphors, looking to see what is behind those words. A smile cracks her face again at the way to answer that, "I suppose, being told by the Gods of Mexico, Norway, the Yoruba, and China that they were ancient beings from the Supernal Realms trying to reconnect with the rest of humanity, while at the powerful temple known as Chichen Itza, and seeing the power of Magic itself...." she shakes her head, memories both good and ill flowing into her mind, "however... I think that was tangential. Lots of hours of study, among many ruins, Fallen and Supernal and more, and one starts to see the pattern. Seeing the ones that shine with magic helps too."
(I think, given the newness to the Awakened portion of the city, they probably are using Active Mage sight, yeah, with spirit and death added in)
(Added in to the Prime/Forces that he gets free)
Vasyl
"I never made it into south or central America. Cuba more than once," he says it as though it were obvious and some sort of punchline. "You saw things there that tied back to higher truths? Do they remain, or were they revealed only to you? Sometimes we have visions here. As real, no doubt, as what you saw in Chichen Itza. But they're only real to us. Sometimes it's whole lifetimes. Sometimes only flashes. It's hard to study such a phenomenon as you can imagine, but--" Vasya wags a hand dismissively at his familiar, a little ball of electric static and light floating near his head and making little buzzes and beeps now and again. "Yes, I know I'm ahead of myself."
He rewinds a bit, lets out a sigh, and seems somehow to deflate. Then he reaches over and clears some of the little items ont the ledge to make room. He pats it lightly in invitation, so that they might join him. "Do you know why you were asked to come here? You've received some sort of comprehensive briefing? If not, I'm happy to provide you one. Answer all of your questions. There are, however, some waivers I need to give you. Verbally, if nothing else."
"The information I want to give you contains knowledge of activities that might well be punished severely after the present war is concluded. If you choose to aid in them, you can anticipate to share in the punishment we might receive. If, indeed, we receive it. It will place you directly in the crosshairs of the Seers of the Throne and their actors. It is therefore likely to lead you towards that thing you people hate most, as I understand it? Politics. Let me stop there and let you ask whatever questions you have at the outset."
Bones
She listens raptly to his questions, thinking of the meaning of visions with dual layers of reality and past lives, especially as the spirit spoke to him.
"The visions is one of the main reasons that I was brought here," a hint of an obscured truth there, but with no malice. "Given the many variable ways that one can Awaken, I am not surprised that these sort of visions can occur. If you look at the connection to the Astral Realm and then the Realms Supernal... someone might live a lifetime in the flash of a moment while Awakening, while another acts out an entire hallucinatory story that only they can see...." And then the Free Councilor's words turned serious and that caused the Mystagogue's eyes to harden, but the smile to quirk sharper, "You tease with both the Carrot and the Stick. Hidden information, restricted, dangerous information is like, if you pardon the term, heroin for my Order. And yes, the only politics that I engage in tends to be when I need to contact whatever Antiquities Department runs a given nation...." a flash of magic, and suddenly a much more masculine appearance, with many of the same features, was there with the dress. His voice altered from a mid-alto to a low baritone, "I tend to deal with those politics like this..." a wink.
And then she stops to seriously consider the concept of punishments, illegal activities, and the Seers.
Vasyl
"And it used to be my life's work to hunt down such secrets and keep them that way, Bones. Worse, I was a suscpetor. I kept secrets with bullets, my friend. I have blood on my hands from all the truths that I kept behind my then tight lips. If forbiden truths are the heroin of your order, I was the DEA agent making it certain that heroin had a high price and took its toll. Right? So weight all of that against the fact that I am now a granola crunching Child of the Tree in the Assembly and a Voter in the Free Council, all so I can have some cover in which to ... prophesy. I guess. I guess that makes me a prophet, fuck. God damn it." He's jus trealized it.
Sighing even more heavily, he looks aside at the now masculine form. To his credit, the change doesn't earn more than an approving eyebrow raise. "Using people's inherent sexual biases against them is such virtuous gaming of the system, I can't even be angry with it. I'm impressed, to be honest. Master stroke. You should meet my spouse, Fox. You two have a bit in common, it seems."
Bones
He tilted his head, listening to the confession. His curiosity and hubris wishing to read the mind of this man, but knowing it was both rude and obvious to another of the Awakened...
... and then the smile was back and he bounced on his feet, the business heels clacking on the floor, "Thank you so much. I got the idea from a werewolf I met once...and I guess if that's the level of information, the sort that would move a DEA Agent to the land of Free Love... I should knwo it, especially if it involves my reason for being here. Shoud we go somewhere more private?"
Vasyl
"I can bring us easily enough to the Lodge of the Children. Or to our farm outside Odessya. Or to our penthouse above center city. Those places are always save for travel, and for conversation. Take your pick. It's getting cold in Myrne this time of year, and the wheat is all in. So much of the ground is fallow. Unless you have a particular fondness for very stupid goats, you're truly not missing much." Vasya shrugs, then rises to his feet. He takes a moment to find a silver coin that's resting on the rim of the stones. He inspects it, lifts it up, kisses it, and sets it back down again. Maybe next time.
He then waits for his company to decide.
Vasyl
Bones
"I am still getting used to the city. Although I grew up here, I have not been much since the Awakening..." he paused and considered, "...so perhaps, the Penthouse, that way I can look over the city that we call home."
Vasyl
"Excellent choice," Vasya agrees, "you're likely to run into the rest of my cadre there." Vasya gestures for Bones to follow him out of the arboretum and into the spellcasting annex. Because of course there's a spellcasting annex. Ritually separated from the rest of the hall, it allows mages to perform rituals here in relative safety, and certainly without risking harm to the tree located technically nearby. Technically. Might as well be on another planet in here, of course. Which makes it the perfect place for him to quick and dirty some space magic.
Once he's joined Vasya, the the ukrainian produces his pistol, holding it very much incorrectly if one is intending to do harm with it. He uses it as a magical tool instead, rooting his mudras around it. Eventually the interior of the penthouse overlays the casting annex. And then the annex simply falls away, leaving the pair in the swank, clean, white and gold glamor of what they affectionately term the Oligarch's Eyrie. The view from the exterior rooms of the penthouse is, of course, ridiculous. Particularly south and east over the river, and across into New Jersey. At least at night, it's by far the better view.
When they all appear, the spirit that had been hovering next to Vasya's head manifests, turns into an androgynous korean kid, very deliberately walks over and picks up the Nintendo Switch off the table, maintains hard eye contact with Bones, and sinks down into a beanbag chair. It picks up a pair of headphones nearby, puts them on, and takes turns staring at Bones and playing digital games. Of this Vasya remarks, "That is Oontz-Oontz. He doesn't trust Mysterium much, I'm afraid. He was mistreated by one of your sleepwalkers."
Bones
Tommy lets out a large sigh of relief at the spellcasting annex. The warding of other energies and the openness to cast one's own spells was obvious to his Mage Sight. Then as the gun was pulled, he reflexively accessed the attainment learned a lifetime ago, it seemed, to block any energies coming at him. But then he recognized the symbols and energies of Space, and released his breath.
As the space magic took hold of the pair, his eyes scan across the Eyrie. The spirits of the wind out the window, or the ghosts floating at the buildings below catch his eyes but none stand out one way or the other. That is until the spirit that had been floating around Vasya manifested. Seeing such a thing, in his Sight of the Spirits, was still a marvel. The energy sparked through his pattern, as the Mage became more real for the spirit as well. If they were going to manifest and spend their energy, then He should balance with some of his own 'manifesting' for the spirit. His voice picked up a strange echo, almost like a second voice in Harmony with his own, "Hello Oontz-Oontz. I am known as Bones. It is an honor and a pleasure ot meet one of the Technology Choir," this time, oddly compared to when he met Vasya, he bows to the waist.
And then refocusing on Vasya, he smiled, "As befits a member of the Consilium, I pledge to follow the expectations of Guest according to the Lex Magica."
Vasyl
"Our great rites are... Somewhere. I'm fairly certain you'll be on the right side of them all, on the main. No messing with souls, keep your magic to yourself. That sort of thing. Though, if you are in need of a place to land or resources while you're settling in, you're welcome to our capital 'H' Hospitality. I'd probably say yes after you've heard me out, since we'll have thought of most of the ways you'll be terrified of dying once it's all over and done. It'll make sleeping a little easier."
Vasya unzips his coveralls revealing a white tank style undershirt and jeans beneath. He's making for the humidor and bar, though. Because of course. "Would you care for a drink? I have a box of the Padron anniversary maduros if you are the sort." He assumes the post of bartender, waiting for Tommy's answer.
Oontz-Oontz relaxes quite a bit at this overt show of respect. The overt mistrust is gone almost at once, replaced with a total indifference. But given Oontz-Oontz looks like a tech obsessed teenager? You know what? Fair.
Bones
He seemed pleased at the change in stance from the spirit, before moving his gaze back to Vasya, "I would love such a drink. And I thank you for your offer, but I was, in fact, able to purchase and build out a large portion of a building near the Bell. Moved my father in there so I can keep track of his illness and injuries."
It seemed that he was not a very secretive person by nature, even if he had improved over the years.
Vasyl
"Interesting neighborhood, Independence Hall." Vasya's opinion is otherwise reserved, and on this his opinion is not overtly shown. Without instruction, Vasya mixes his preferred cocktail. Just vodka and some cranberry juice shaken over ice and poured. Impossible to fuck up. Reveals ALL SORTS OF CHEMICAL ADDITIVES but ahem. That's old habits.
Once poured, he clips himself a cigar, delivers his drink to him with a mercurial wink. "Budmo," he enthuses, offering a toast before knocking his back in one snap. High ball glasses are shots when you're his level of alcoholic.
"Okay. So. Prophesy." He strikes a match, lights his cigar, and heads over to the sliding window and the open balcony. Stogie smoke isn't for everyone, he knows. Leaning in the doorway, he starts his story.
"Would you like me to begin with a cold listing of facts? Or would you like narrative? I can do either one with pretty equal facility."
Bones
"Narrative, if you please. Archaeologist means that I live in the story of peoples as much as the facts in the ground," he took more gentle sips, considering purging the alcohol but decided not to worry this time.
At the smoke, he pulled an ancient golden coin out of his purse. Flipping it, he called upon magic of the Aether and caused the weather to create a gentle, yet steady breeze, pulling the smoke away even more through the door.
Vasyl
And now he chuckles at himself, a dry and mirthless sound. "Which now presents me with deciding where to begin a story about time travel I am only tangentially involved in. For sake of understanding, I suppose, my journey? How I got from there to here? I will begin from my involvement in matters."
So he does.
"It is no secret that for my entire life I have essentially been a weapon put to the purpose of killing Seers of the Throne. Whatever else you can say of how I came to be what I was, that is what I was and what I was doing. With documented efficiency. And even greater undocumented efficiency, I assure you. My obsession with them earned me an exit from politics, which I only entered because the only other choices were so much more terrible. I was happy that I was returned to field work, you must understand me, because it meant I could get closer to my enemies again. Infiltrate their networks, get to know them the way I could never let myself know another living person. And then kill them, one by one. Like a very healthy, sane person." The fishlike eyes he's currently staring at Bones with make it clear that stopped being the case in some senses a while ago.
"I give this preface to make it clear-- I was not in a place or mindset where I was wanting to receive the visit I did. Or where I was prepared to listen. I know now that was a deliberate choice, because they visited me numerous times. But -- ahead of myself, again. Just. Listen with a mind that all of this is of a purpose. More than pre-ordained, but set-in-motion."
"It was after my a more recent success, bringing in Uvaush. A scelestus, not a Seer, but still... evil. Still a win for our side, right? Okay? But anyway. It was after that, when I was riding high on self-righteous purpose that I chose to visit myself from the future."
He waits for that sentence to sink in.
Bones
The Adept of time's eye brows tried to move to the back of their head, listening to the story. He decided that Death wasn't helpful but Time might be, and watched the energies of the world shift from the dead realm to the passing and manipulation of the fourth dimension.
"So. You decided to visit your future, or your future visited you? I just want to be clear."
Vasyl
"I was not at the time in the habit of breaking the Pax Arcana. And, truthfully, I am not now. To the extent I am abetting these crimes, it is to counteract the machinations of the Seers of the Throne. Nothing more. As I will try to make more clear to you. So, short answer long? My future self was sent back to visit me. Because he certainly wasn't any Archmaster to look at him."
Vasya scowls briefly, then slowly begins to frown. "I thought myself soft at the time. I thought I looked weak. What I looked like was happy. My future self claimed to be from a time where we'd had the Seers of the Throne on the ropes. Where we were, in short, winning the war in whatever way that can be said to be won. Even now, the how of it remains occluded to us. Okay. But he claimed to be from this bright, wonderful future. But that their future was under attack. Not in their time. But in ours. They claimed the Seers were taking actions in our here and now, actions we'd have no reason to suspect for the most part, that in the aggregate would knock the time stream so out of alignment, theirs never happens. Or, in any case. Never happens to us. Our timeline winds off as intended, down the pipeline of their forever control." He sounds like a madman unless you know what he's talking about.
"And of course you know what I did, right? I told him to fuck off. I assumed it was an op. I assumed I was being played. I went immediately on my guard. I began questioning everyone and everything around me." Vasya leans in just a bit, "Which is how I started uncovering evidence of the Seers having infiltrated my own order. Our consilium. Our-- the sentinels. Right? The sentinels? And as I am uncovering that, the motherfuckers sent me back one of my daughters."
He gestures around at his life. "Do you fucking see any daughters?"
Bones
The Master of the Aether Realm winced at some of the moments of Vasya's story and their own reactions.
"You know...Such a story is nearly impossible to believe. It broke so many laws of magic. It required so much knowledge of Time, and the hubris to break the fundamental stream of the universe. Sure, I have moved back an hour or two.... maybe back from dawn to dusk in winter... but that... Jesus Christo..." almost in the paranoia of one of the Wise, the Obrimos' studied the man in front of him, and the area around him for current time disruptions.
Vasyl
"They made me dismantle my own foundations. I destroyed my place in the Guardians here. I had to. Even my friends in the order know I had to. But once you do what I'd done, that's it. You're out. There's no going back to that. And so there I am, in my lowest possible point. Just. Fucking. Just. The worst moment of my life, they send me a daughter." He says the word like it holds a power all its own.
"She looked at me and saw a father that she expected to nurture and love her, to know what to say. To support her. Or at least that had been prepared by such a man to meet the wretch she did that day. I could tell she was part me. Of course. But that can be faked. I thought to myself... surely there must be a way to tell one time from another. A thing from one timeline from another. A temporal resonance. And so there was. A quality that archmasters conceal from us I was able to intuit because it is a quality that our multiverse must have to be coherent. Correct? It simply wasn't testable because we'd never had-- or at least known we had --a time traveler in our midst to test it on. But, Bones? Now that I know how to anchor myself temporally and discern temporal resonance-- it's just as fucking easy as you think it is --I see them all the fucking time. That's why I need to emphasize, you will make yourself a target if you try to verify this. You can't unsee the Grue. And once they know you know, they know you know. And they always have." Vasya puts the spice on that last foreboding phrase. Narrative was asked for, he's serving it.
Bones
They've fought alongside and against werewolves in their worst forms. They've seen Incarnae rise and fall. The very nature of the Truth was theirs to manipulate. And yet, through everything... through it all, this still made them shiver from head to toe. Visibly. Vasya's pure vitriol at the situation was nearly able to be tasted by Bones. Bones, however, with their connection, their strength of family... how could they not feel the same should the situation happen.
And yet... there was still a ripcord. A few words of Egyptian and he could be back at the tree, like none of this happened. He could do that. But it wasn't in her nature. Her nature was to fight for the underdog, protect knowledge, and to Learn. If there were these secrets left...
"I'm. In."
Vasyl
Vasya hadn't expected that. He's mid-intake of breath, clearly about to continue spinning his yarn. His hands freeze, mid-gesticulation. And then he assumes normalcy again. "Okay. That was easy. Questions?" Stop selling when they close. Rule one.
Bones
"The use of a daughter to manipulate? Real or Imagined, that is striking at the heart of a being. Fuck. That. Shit," the usually polite mage was 'all shook up' at the situation, "My questions are... what did you do? Not that you, this you. What have you done against the Seers thus far since the revelation? Have you had more prophetic visions? Any symbols or variances that I might know? Who else knows? WHo shouldn't know? You say there is corruption among the Capes, but yet you still have friends there, so we don't have a fallen Caucus. Who can be trusted to uphold the point of the star?"
Vasyl
"I had a nervous breakdown. I completely fell the fuck apart. I took several months to put my life together. I had to fundamentally ... rewrite who I am as a person. What I'm doing, why I'm doing it. You don't just do that overnight, and if you do as I did? You don't do it without paying a price. So. That's what I did, mostly."
Vasya holds his breath for a long moment, then lets it out, as though finally confessing a hard truth. "Once I learned how to Temporally Anchor myself? An Adept practice I can show you. I became obsessed with policing the timeline. With ensuring things that would lead to my daughter's conception would all occur in their neat and proper order. Right? Like we have in physics. Proper time. Mmm? Everything happens in its proper time. And I thought to myself surely there can be no harm in policing such a noble timeline. And then I let a bullet go right through the head of a pretty decent friend of mine. As close to a friend as someone like me gets to have. Just let him take one to the head because it was meant to be. He survived it. Technically. But he was much changed for it. And not for the better, some might argue. In the exchange I prevented the murder of his driver and captured another seer. One from their timeline. A kid. Again, you don't have to take me at my word. I can teach you how to see what I know. And I will let you use what I teach you to verify it for yourself."
"I have had numerous prophetic visions. Some are about the Tree, about our shared histories. Some are from other entities entirely. Telling one from another is difficult, especially since... the visions are happening across populations of supernatural beings. Among the changelings, the vampires. Among the chained, even."
"Plenty know. About a dozen in all. I'll introduce you. As to who shouldn't know? Basically everyone else. Unless they're opting in. And sometimes people get opted in because they're a target. Or visited with a vision. Sometimes opting in isn't exactly voluntary, if you follow me. But the more people know? The more people are in the way of the wrecking ball the seers are swinging. And that ball is wiping out whole lives. As to the capes as you call them? The rank and file are blameless. It's the higher ups that knew. And in the end, the higher ups were in fact supplanted by Seers of the Throne. I. Sort of uncovered that bit. The actual higher ups are back in power, but. They're not exactly who they were for the experience."
"Harmony." Finally, he gives at least one name. "You can trust her."
Bones
He frowned at that and stepped past Vasya and the smoke, out onto the balcony to look over the city and think silently, while the Acanthus spoke.
A motion of acknowledgement, and for the European to continue the story. It was a lot to take in, but it had to be known. Silently, they pulled out a specially made pen of gold and steel, with High Speech runes upon it, and a high quality leather bound journal, with gold trim, and began to write in it.
Vasyl
"We've uncovered a lot more in the fullness of time. Identified some people they've been trying to prune. Identified they were behind the policing robots. Uncovered a base they have on Mars. In the astral realm. With." Vasya closes his eyes and just keeps talking through it, because if you say them fast enough, then it's over, and you're not a weeb. You can tell yourself you're not a weeb, at least. For knowing to make this reference. "Basically a whole gundam wing of multi theater astral interceptors. With computerized brains and actual brains, too. Yeah. We rescued a whole ass android human person? And his wife? And their buddy? From the world war II brain harvesting program that created the Mars space program."
His eyes open. "It's just a lot, Bones. Sorry. You interrupted the narrative of a time Master telling a story about time travel. This is your own fault, when you think about it."
Little Fox
A voice comes from the back room, in Russian. A man's voice, evenly-metered, as if reading from a book. If one speaks Russian, this is what it says:
"Vasily the Tomcat stood on his hind legs with his back to it, immersed in deep thought. In his teeth, he clamped the stem of a water lily. He kept looking down at his feet and sounding a drawn-out "Me-eh-eh." Then he shook his head, put his front legs behind his back, and, hunching over like a lecturing professor, glided smoothly away from the oak. "Very well," he enunciated through his teeth, "So, once upon a time there lived a tsar and tsarina. And they had one son..me-eh.. an imbecile, naturally..." Chagrined, he spit out the flower, and, frowning mightily, rubbed his forehead."
The voice grows closer and closer, a soft, bobbing thing. The subtle glow of a Forces spell, following along in the air next to a tiny, grubby and completely naked woman, mostly asleep. She's lean-muscled, five feet tall in her bare feet, and with a tattoo of a woman with a rifle in front of a circular cutout of Ukranian flag on the left side of her chest, over her heart. Her wedding ring glimmers with potentia. Razors are foreign objects to her, quite evidently. She yawns, showing a mouthful of sharp little canine teeth. Once upon a time, this woman was a Mysterium Curator, before she left the Order four years ago. Now she's rubbing her eyes wearily as she wanders out from her room, followed by a rat and a Husky, both in Twilight. "Mrrm?" she noises, the voices eventually pushing their way into her consciousness. The Husky circles around in front of her, and she stops. "Mrrrm?"
"Oh." And then she folds up like a letter, neatly and reflexively rearranging into a small red fox, which is, by default, wearing a fur coat.
Bones
At the different voice, a wary, paranoid, stressed Obrimos lifted the pen like some might a sword and held it out. There was an appreciative look for the woman, and the magics around her. Still, even then, the pen was held out. As the woman became a fox, without a hint of magic about her, the pen lowered. Not because Bones felt more comfortable but because of the surprise. After a moment, they realized that the wedding rings, both holding Potentia, matched.... so she relaxed. Somewhere along the way, the masculine form shifted again back into the female shape that Vasya had initially met. She hoped that it would help the fox feel more comfortable with their presence.
Vasyl
If Vasya is bothered by another person, regardless of gender, having a gander of his wife naked? He certainly doesn't let on. But, again. Fish eyes. He's about as easily read when not deliberately emoting as-- okay, making 'easily read' references around an occult semioticist is probably a bad choice. You get the idea. Emotionally, it's like a lump of formless clay in an unzipped set of coveralls.
When the transformation happens, Vasya looks between the pair and wonders aloud. "Is this the traditional greeting of your people?" It's only half a joke.
Oh. Right.
"Honey. Ehm. Bones. Of the Mysterium. They're a. Um. Savant! About visions and meanings and the like."
"Bones, Fox. M-"
Oontz-Oontz immediately blurts out a very loud "MAH WIIIIFE" Borat style. Borat exact, actually. It's a sample of Borat. Just. Carrying forth from the spirit's open mouth.
Vasya scowls briefly, but then it's back to the clay. "Mmm. Muh. Master. Of. Yes, fine, my wife." Oontz-Oontz just snickers and returns to playing Switch.
Little Fox
The fox stretches luxuriously in a way that requires four legs and a spine that arches like a cat's. She really did just wake up. Another big yawn, her gold eyes squinting closed, and she pap pap pap over on her small black-socked feet to sniff at Bones' ankles before circling back towards Vasya. That seems to be the traditional greeting of her people, more seriously.
She pap pap pap softly over to the Acanthus and sproing up into Vasya's arms. He has the choice to catch her or to have her land on his shoulder anyway. This is how this works. The little rat spirit clambers up the side of the Husky, who carries them both over to the reflection of the couch and curl up. Then Oontz-Oontz chimes in, and the fox, making herself comfortable, snickers as only a fox can. A curling of Forces again, and a woman's voice. "Second Degree Master Revontulet, Orphan of Proteus, Scion and Shaman on the Path to the Primal Wild, Supernal Realm of Spirit and Life, and abode of Beasts, Emissary to the Spirit Nations from the Children of the Martyr's Tree of the Lesser Convocation of the Northeast, Master of Life and Spirit, Adept of Matter and Time, Hearthmaster of жар-птица, also known as the Firebirds." All while sounding like she could really use a cup of coffee.
Bones
In appreciation of Oontz-Oontz, she spoke a few words in the High Speech and wrote in this journal. Those with spirit sight would see the energies form around her implements and voice, before filling with a reinforced, rebar shaped imago, flowing towards Oontz-Oontz, reinforcing the spirit, bolstering the spirit to the next rank for the rest of the night. That spirit just seemed to call to her for that level of appreciation....
Then to Fox, "Pleasure to meet you. I am... Second Degree Master Bones, Mystagogue and Theurge on the Path to the Aether, Supernal Realm of Prime and Forces, and abode of Angels, Savant of the Mysterium in the fields of Archaeology and Symbology, Master of Prime and Forces, Adept of Time, Disciple of Life and Spirit..."
Vasyl
Vasya catches the fox like a pro, tucking it into one arm and putting her on her back for tummy scritches and geckering. Tummy scritches and geckering is the best part of having a foxwife. Next to the fresh poultry, maybe.
"I'm still Pavlichenko." The best part of being Free Council is not having to recite all that stuff unless you care to.
"We could be here for days just bringing you up to speed. Where I'd like you to start is in going over the recent dreams we've collected, reviewing the work I've done in a purely analytic capacity and see if you can use it to augment your semiotic understandings. Or if your semiotic understandings alter the purely analytic facts I have so far gathered. Cast them in a new light. I feel as though you may be a missing piece in what we require. So I'd like to let you learn much of this via exposure. How better, for example, to teach you about the Mars Space Program than to introduce you to Hades and let him take you out in one of the EMTAIs. Let you see it. Meet them. Tell you about it. You know? Where you can start helping, though? Is there. I know that much. Or at least I hope that much, which for one of my kind is often very similar."
Vasya looks down to the fox, scritching it between the ears. "I'm acting against my old nature again, my dear."
Little Fox
"I am glad to meet you, Bones." A big stretch. She permits herself to be turned onto her back and her stomach rubbed, even with someone new here. Oh, the lack of dignity! She gently batbats at Vasya's scruffy cheek, making a little playful sound, indeed called gekkering, which sounds a bit like cackling, and a little like she's about to bite his face. "I am proud of you," comes her voice at the last thing that he says. Speepy fox getting stomach rubs tho.
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