Coyote Laughs for the Raven

Log Info

• Title: Coyote Laughs for the Raven
• Emitter: Ravenstongue
• Characters: Jinks, Ravenstongue
• Place: A12 - Memorial Gardens District
• Summary: Ravenstongue, Pothy, and Grandfather are all in the Memorial Gardens District, appearing to be enjoying themselves despite the cold and wet evening with a moonless sky. Jinks stumbles in and Ravenstongue is happy to see him, as she can fill him in on the aftermath of what happened with the summoning ritual. She introduces Jinks formally to Grandfather. Jinks expresses amazement that it all ended well and the group talk for some time until Pothy demands snacks. Not willing to have to track down Pothy through the city, Ravenstongue politely departs into the evening.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A12: Memorial Gardens District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Among the gardens, scents mingle: green, loam and subtle sweetness, wafting from the meticulously groomed grounds. The lawns are richly green, dense and close-cropped, bordered with polished pale marble stones the size of a human man's fist. The pathways are smoothly cobbled in muted tones that subtly echo and contrast with the surrounding greenery, shaded by the lush canopies of tall, straight trees whose branches arch over the walkways to form open, airy tunnels. Elegantly ornate, tall mana-lamps of wrought black iron keep the paths softly lit in the evenings; they are often situated near benches of matching material and style. It is peaceful, here. Somber. It is also curiously warm and green no matter the time of year; leaves do change color in fall but remain on the trees until spring comes again.

At the heart of the park where the paths converge are large marble pedestals supporting bronze or marble statuary, chiseled letters upon the heavy bases naming the subject of each piece. The previous sculpture celebrating the union of Alexandros with Myrddion has been removed from the center of the garden and replaced with a gorgeous statue of the Crown Princess Lianna Rena and a marble walkway that leads to the Monument of Heroes - a newly-raised edifice celebrating those who fought and died on behalf of others. Tribute is still given to the friendship between Myrddion and Alexandros in the form of the paired standards mounted above the entrance to the Monument of Heroes: one from each nation. The flagstaffs are crossed and held by a Myrrish Knight and an Old-Alexandros Miner.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Jinks           A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.           
Ravenstongue    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.  
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

It is a windless, yet cold and wet evening in the Memorial Gardens. The dark sky is interrupted only by the safe haven of the mana-lamps standing post in the garden ways and the lights further on into the city.

Yet in the still cold of the night, there are a strange set of characters: the half-elf sorceress Ravenstongue, her steadfast pale-feathered familiar Pothy, and an unfamiliar in more ways than one creature: a black raven with violet eyes who speaks to Ravenstongue as the collective of corvids and corvid-named person all sit on a bench, Pothy munching away on food:

"Are you certain you are not too cold out here, little one?" the dark-feathered raven asks, his voice deep and melodious like the sounding of large bells. He tilts his head in concern, a rather humanoid motion for a bird. "We could return to Madame Sandy's and procure another layer."

Ravenstongue laughs a little, as she is decked head-to-toe in a hooded capelet lined with fur, and a rather warm-looking blue woolen dress. "No, I am fine, Grandfather. But thank you for asking."

Jinks' longcoat is an asymmetrical thing most assuredly designed by an artiste with a distate for convention. It's a soft, dark leather and fur lined, with a wide hood draped out to the shoulders and a half cloak entirely obscuring his left arm. A single row of four black buttons with emerald jewels descends below his right breast.

The gnome has Sage Orum's at his back and hums to himself from behind painted lips. Another voice joins him, feminine and higher in pitch, but the woman's shape is as unfocused as it is bright and red. Their duet is a sleepy, familiar thing of playful counterpoints and the occasional tripping misstep. She's behind and to the side of the minstrel and they wave arms at each other in good-natured admonishment as the song is quit. It's a scene from a dream.

Mid-chuckle, Jinks espies Ravenstongue and takes his hand back in, sliding a finger down his nose. The woman is picked up as if by a sharp gust of wind, stretching apart at the seams and disappearing into the dark as the illusion quits back into the Weave.

"Coyote laughs, tallman; sitting here-- talking to birds-- the world might think you mad." Greets Jinks with a subtle slur in his words.

"My little one mad?" the black raven says, puffing up all of his feathers. "It would be a cruel thing to say--"

"Grandfather, please, that's Mister Jinks--he's one of the people who was helping me with our deal. Your magic is lovely, by the way," Ravenstongue says cheerily as she waves to Jinks in her own greeting. The violet-eyed bird quirks his head in interest, yet another humanlike gesture.

Pothy, meanwhile, is head-deep into a bowl of what appears to be a pile of peanuts, still in the shell. The pale-feathered friend is cracking the nuts against the bowl and pecking the bits out with his beak in such an efficient motion that one would think that Pothy's whole existence is to do just this.

(Which is likely, really. After all, it is Pothy.)

"Honorifics and titles on a pseudonym sound fantastically absurd; 'Jinks' is fine. We can surrender the litanies of deeds and announcements of station for the most noble paladina." The gnome grins, reaching up to push back his hood and consider 'grandfather' with his solid-black onyx eyes unobstructed. He ultimately decides to tip his head 'hello' and reaffirm, "Jinks," with the lightest touch of gloved fingertips to his sternum.

"And... thank you," he turns to glance back after the lost illusion. "Trying to remember a song. And a woman. But we're deeper in the bottle than clearheaded inspiration... though not so far as to require sleep. So I'm sure it was all a bit... fuzzy.

"But at least it's a bit of fun. Temples didn't spoil my fun like they did the mul's," he snorts a bit, sniggering, and half-covers his mouth with a loose fist while he collects himself. "... so," he finally manages, thumbing away a tear, "granddad's a bird. Is this a guise or avatar or has the Raven Lord come down on the wrong side of a witch?" He smiles sympathetically, "No shame there; happens to the best of us."

"A messenger, whose eyes, ears, and voice I am borrowing to spend time with dear Cor'lana," the black raven says, until Ravenstongue butts in with a sigh and a finger to her lips to ask for silence.

"You're getting ahead of the story, Grandfather. Jinks, meet the Feathered One... who is using a messenger, because I'm not powerful enough to summon him out of Quelynos on my lonesome, and because, all things considered, it's not a good idea to have him wandering around with me," Ravenstongue explains.

It's the black raven's turn to sigh. "Unfortunate. I have twenty years' worth of hugs to give you and I cannot do so without arms with which to embrace you--but, ahem, I will let you speak," he says, sensing Ravenstongue's side-eye from interrupting her.

"It turns out Grandfather--as that's what he likes to be called--is my distant ancestor. As in, thousands of years ago. My wonderful father and his family seem to have forgotten their roots as a result of focusing on integrating into lyranesi high society," Ravenstongue says, the sarcasm thick enough that, if reality was more prone to poetic justice, it would form a cloud in the cold air instead of the usual stream of visible breath from Ravenstongue's mouth. "The firstborns that my father said were sacrifices were just living out their full mortal lives with Grandfather in Quelynos, because he gets lonely to the point of madness if he is alone, and he hates being around other fae."

"A happier ending than I'd expected for the story... if a bit anticlimactic." Jinks assesses with mock disappointment. His grin returns without preamble and he offers a wink. "I'm sorry to've missed the third act, regardless, but an ex-lover had me chained in her dungeons and was threatening to kill me if I didn't acquiesce to certain demands."

The sing-song flippancy of the excuse means it's almost assuredly at lie. "Busy, busy," he complains after a short bout of laughter.

"... but now we might be cousins of a sort; there are no shortage of tales about the gnomes being fey-descended. Our talent for magic and impossible charm... but those stories aren't as entertaining as the creation myths that involve escape from Coyote's litter by stealing out of our furred skin and hiding amongst the Khazad."

He's distracted a moment by the recollection of a particular storyteller but returns quickly to the conversation at hand. "And your father and stepmother? Still boorish and self-interested or has there been progress there, too?"

Almost assuredly a lie, but Ravenstongue seems to think it could hold truth--or so her surprised expression says. "Really? That sounds awful--the dungeon thing that is," she says.

Grandfather, who is almost certainly older and wiser than Ravenstongue, chuckles at his descendant's inability to recognize a lie--or at the very least, a half-truth, like all good fiction. "Little one, he would not be walking upright if that was the case," he says. "I assure you, however, Sir Jinks, that I have only begotten elves with my late wife of eons ago. I cannot speak for my descendants afterward... And speaking of descendants, I paid her father and his wife a visit myself after Cor'lana here told me of the wickedness her step-mother wrought and the callousness of her father's words."

The black raven puffs his chest feathers up proudly as he holds his head up high. "I told her father that, while Cor'lana has not agreed to live with me in Quelynos until she is ready, he may give that terrible wife of his as many children as she desired, but I would follow through on the baby eater image he seems to think me as if he or that wife of his dared to contact Cor'lana in any way. Not that I would harm any of my descendants, but it was exciting to see the color drain from his face."

This appears to be news to Ravenstongue, who gasps. "You didn't! I had no clue you could be that cruel on purpose!" she says, although... Well, she's certainly grinning.

"The Sunblades and Silver Guard may disagree with me... but there are quite a few very justly tormented in such a fashion." Jinks opines, lifting his hand and looping his thumb into the top of his belt. "... and just think, if a suitor ever gives you cause to question their motives you can warn them off with 'my grandfather is a powerful fey aspect and he's very protective.'"

A pause. "Though... I'm thinking I've chanced worse; so it's not an infallible defense." But this lascivious dandy is a (hopefully) relatively unique case.

"Regardless, congratulations to you both on finding each other. Family can be a precious thing." His smile creeps up and he tips his head in acknowledgement. "Any particularly special plans for the near future as the world crumbles into chaos around us all?"

"Just spending as much time together as we can like this," Ravenstongue says. Grandfather appears to agree, nuzzling into Ravenstongue's dark hair as she speaks. "I found out we're oddly similar in a lot of ways. Way more than I would have expected."

Grandfather huffs mildly, although when filtered through the mouth of a magical corvid messenger, it sounds more like an indignant croak. "Of course we are. I named her, you know--her father came up to me with her as a precious little babe, and when I asked him for her name, he said he didn't have one! Never in all my years..." He shakes his head, all of his feathers puffed up to the point that he now looks more like a puffball than the magical sending of a fae nobleman. "Quite frankly, it'd be nice if she did have suitors! I'm shocked she doesn't! She is beautiful, after all, and--"

Ravenstongue groans. "Oh no. Now you've got him started. Grandfather, I told you, I'm not interested in anyone like that."

Jinks just laughs, a bit amused and as much (if not moreso) drunk. He eventually finds his kilter and raises both hands-- the left sneaking out from under the cloak-- to wipe tears away from his black eyes with the heels of his palms.

"I had the opposite problem." He admits, face flushed from laughter and the drink. "Though I won't say yours is a problem if you're happy, tallman. I can't think of any stories of someone being exiled from their homeland for being chaste." He sighs and laughs, his smile turning a bit self-depricating as he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "And, I'm sorry, none of that is my business, anyway."

Grandfather harrumphs--another noise that sounds more like a scolding crow than anything through the mouth of a corvid. "I just want Cor'lana to be happy, is all. She's had to deal with more than I ever wanted her to deal with."

"He's a little overbearing," Ravenstongue admits, but the admission turns quickly into a warm smile. "But I'm happy to have family again. Really."

It is at this moment that Pothy pops his head up from the dish of peanuts. The shells are spent and the nuts are gone. Pothy's devastation of the legume is complete... and he fixes his eyes on Jinks. "Snacks?" he asks.

"Oh dear. Did he empty those already?" Grandfather asks, a little shocked as he leans from his post on Ravenstongue's shoulder to look closer at the peanut corpse stack in the bowl by Pothy. "I am continually impressed by his commitment to, well, being him."

Jinks' face goes dark for a moment at the talk of family but his smile returns in force as he laughs and shakes his head at Pothy. "None, sadly. My new friend is done with his shift at the Defense shortly and I promised to have an appetite for supper. So... I am on a Mourner's diet at the moment."

"Spirits," he clarifies with a grin, enjoying his own little joke. He adds a nod, glancing at the fey-messenger, "One is reminded of the whelpling, Tanith, and her endless appetite for fish..."

"Snacks, snacks, snacks!" Pothy complains, flapping his white wings as though he is threatening to take off into the night in search of snacks without Ravenstongue. And judging by the sudden panic on Ravenstongue's face, it appears he's not only made this threat before, but has made good on it.

Ravenstongue sighs and stands up from the bench, scooping Pothy up onto her only free shoulder. It looks a little ridiculous to have a bird on each shoulder--but one can presume it's better than a bird in each hand. "I have to go find food for this birdbrain or he will have Grandfather and I scouring the city to figure out where he's gone," she says apologetically. "It was wonderful to see you again, Jinks."

"Yes, it was splendid," Grandfather says somewhat nervously as he looks at Pothy, who is giving him the death glare for even speaking. Every second not spent acquiring food for Pothy is a second closer to the doom that Pothy will bring about in the end of days when he presumably swallows the world whole after ascending to godhood.

"It was nice to meet the man behind the legend," Jinks tells the fey fellow, and then smiles and tips his head to Ravenstongue, "tallman. Coyote laughs."