white_flowers | IC: Midsummer Rising

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midsummer rising

IC: Midsummer Rising

Midsummer.

Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.

It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.

But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.

So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.

This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.

She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.

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"It is not a thing I am much concerned with, perhaps."

He shrugs, the gesture quick and almost careless.

"It is, I think, your choice."

As much of the rest of it was.

And he is not thinking of cages. Not at all.

"A cage for a cage," Coyote says, sidling closer to Raven and sliding an arm around him.

"What goes around comes around? Life sucks and then you die." She snickers again.

From over by the greenhouse, Dickon approaches, his expression wary.

Mary's following close behind, looking anxious and a bit angry, and there's a bird--a jay--cupped in one of his hands.

Life sucks! The little jay agrees with Coyote in an emphatic warble, looking as sulky as a small little jay can look. It has not been a good day. It's only looking to get worse, since the little boy that's carrying her - Dickon, she remembers him, if she tries - is going closer to the evil bitch, rather than farther.

Some people just have no sense.

Mary, meanwhile, looks a little more hopeful as she catches Coyote's last words.

It must be remembered that Mary is a literalist.

"She ought to be dead already," she says fiercely; the words are loud, and clearly aimed at Blodwen.

A house fell on Blodwen once already, after all. It's only fair.

"I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you, dear," Blodwen says flatly to Mary.

She doesn't sound it, really, but someone who is particularly perceptive might notice that anger is being employed to hide fear and a growing wild grief.

Raven's smile, for a moment, is almost gentle.

"You will, I think, be sorrier yet."

And then he dismisses her, turning to Mary and Dickon, head tilted.

Perhaps he is scanning for feathers.

"You have seen my sister?"

Dickon blinks, and casts a look around.

And endeavors to sound helpful as he asks "...What does she look like, sir?"

It really isn't Dickon's fault.

Even Ace knows this.

She just doesn't feel like dwelling on it right now.

Thus, the little 'I'm right here' chirp has a decided sulky tone to it.

Being short is horrid.

"Mostly she is looking like a bird, I think."

He smiles, holding out his hand to the little jay.

"You are possibly wanting to change that, Ace, yes?"

Impatient, Ace doesn't wait for the inevitable handoff, and hops out of Dickon's hand. This goes grandly for a moment as she flaps frantically to close the distance between the hands.

And then she's falling again.

That's all flying is, right? Falling? Just, generally, with more elegance than Ace is displaying at the moment.

It is an easy thing to think, certainly--and perhaps it works well enough for some. Unfortunately, at the moment, Ace is perhaps not among that proud few.

So Raven scoops her out of the air instead. Very carefully.

"It will be awkward, I think. But not so difficult."

Hopefully it does not hurt.

Ace settles into his hands, resting her beak on his wrists. Now that she's got the time to think about it (slowly, as there still isn't much room for big thoughts in that tiny little head), it'd probably suit her right if it was difficult.

She was warned.

Repeatedly.

Dickon's eyebrows, meanwhile, have gone up slightly.

"...Miss Ace?"

The Ace he's met before was rather less avian, but...Milliways.

"Did th' witch do that to 'er, sir?"

For a moment--half a moment, perhaps--Raven's expression is cold and implacable.

Then it fades, and Raven smiles at Dickon.

"So she did, I think. It was hardly wise of her."

He tilts his head, watching Ace and frowning slightly. There is a short pause, and then he nods, holding his hand out and flat.

The chant is quiet but rhythmic, heat haze spilling from his fingertips and surrounding the jay.

And there's a shift and it's not entirely unlike falling and Ace suddenly comes to realize that she's on the ground but it's an awfully long ways away. This may be one of the few times she thinks this while her feet are both on the ground.

She should relish it, really.

It's almost a shame that this moment of tall-ness is lost since she decides to hug her brother instead. Because she has arms, and she can do that now.

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Mary has never been particularly perceptive about other human beings.

Scornfully: "You are only sorry you did not just now manage to kill us."

They are both human now, and that's the problem.

Or the solution, evidently, according to some.

"You are a little ffwl, child," she says, soft and bitter with loathing. "You know nothing."

"Most mortals are fools, my dear Mrs. Rowlands. But I think this one might be on to something." Coyote points at Mary.

She likes her already.

"You would."

The loathing is much more evident this time.

Mary's gaze doesn't shift from Blodwen.

(You don't take your eyes off a witch.)

"I know a good deal," she says, coolly.

"I know that was the Dark just now - and I know that you lost - and I hope someone does kill you, before you can do it again!"

Coyote takes a few steps forward, and crouches near Mary, staring at Blodwen as well. "Irony. When we couldn't kill her, we tried. And now...she lives for now, girl. It hurts her more that way."

"How?" Mary demands, her eyes still on Blodwen.

"How does it hurt her more?"

"Why yes, do explain it, dear," she retorts, with a short harsh laugh. "Tell the child how truly useless she is and must always be."

"Useless? This one has her life and her potential. What do you have now, White Rider?"

Coyote stands and extends her hand to Mary. "She can't hurt anyone now. Unless they let her."