2021-12-27 - Where the Wind Goes
Is it a memory? Is it a dream? All that Perdita knows is what her young self does as she runs away from home, whisked away to another land by a mysterious stranger.
IC Date: 2021-12-27
OOC Date: 2020-12-27
Location: Boldt Castle, NY
Related Scenes: None
Plot: None
Scene Number: 6279
Evening touched the sky and the sunset caused the scattered fall clouds to become ablaze with firey colors. Tonight it would be clear with an almost full moon. Out here on Heart Island, in the middle of the Jefferson river, guests were bedding down, the Cafes closed, and the sounds of frogs and crickets began to take over.
Yet the young runaway in Boldt Castle's tower heard something else. A soft singing in a language unknow to their ears. Sweet and wonderful. Wind stirred with the melody and with it the mouth-watering scent of baked apple pie. Which was odd given it was near 10pm and no one would be baking out here.
Yet the tantalizing smell remained. Drawing the youngster to follow their nose. Belly rumbling an encouragement to their other senses.
"thig anaman caillte leig dhomh do ghiůlan air falbh. tha an saoghal seo aingidh agus chan ann airson do shňlas," The voice sings, the words sticking to be remembered years later perfectly.
Wild, untamed curls, dark eyes, skinny legs, knobby knees, a tear stained face smudged with dirt from the abandoned portion of the tower, not yet restored. Leander Kolompár knows this place well, because Báte works here during the day... and Lea knows that food shouldn't be being baked for at least a few more hours. Still, the hungry stomach of a runaway child can't ignore the scent, and so Lea, one day to be known as Perdita, escapes her Wonder Woman sleeping bag, a gift and hand-me-down from her older sister, and finds her way through the abandoned building, listening to the beautiful song with eyes wide.
She doesn't call out, she doesn't speak, she merely listens and works her way toward the source curiously. Lea knows three different languages... this is none of them, but still familiar...
The Gaelic singing continues, though those words are not so clear. Lea winds her way back through the tower. The sun having fully set when the source of the singing is found. Out on the deck leading to old boat mooring stands the singer. Bathed in the full moon's light with hands clasping a necklace. Which glows and illuminates their pale hands orange. Like they were holding a flashlight. A very very very bright one.
It helped make clear they had vibrant orange hair to go with pale skin. Dressed in a green longcoat, slacks, and newsboy cap which at first disguised their curls. Their age was perhaps a few years older than Lea, but it was hard to tell. As was their gender.
The song ended and with it the glowing. The singer turned their head knowingly. A smile blossoming as they spotted Lea in the shadows of the tower. "Hello there," They spoke with an odd accent that was vaguely English, but also vaguely Irish and a number of other western European accents combined.
Hanging back, using one of the stacked stone columns as partial cover, Lea watches the strange figure with huge eyes and a shy smile. Lea knows about fárma-kátarka, witches like her. Her father's aunt was one, too, and treated with great superstition by the rest of the family for being different... T-shirt and jeans, sneakers, all new maybe ten years ago, when they fit her older brother, Rafael, or maybe it was Dmitri. It definitely wasn't Dayana. The sleeping bag is bad enough, Lea's father would have a fit if she wore her sister's clothes...
"Hi. I... liked your song." is offered eventually, shyly. Slightly accented voice, Spanish mingling with something else, picked up from parents and grandparents, older siblings. "We probably shouldn't be out here, if they catch us we'll get in trouble..."
The figure took a second to look Lea over and the smile never wavered. "Ah thank you, kind lady," He says in that odd accent. Whisking the cap from curls her bows in courtly manner to Lea. There is no mockery in his voice, only cheerfulness.
"Oh, perhaps you are right...we should go somewhere else. But first, names. You may call me Petre, if it pleases," Says Petre as he straightens. The cap is returned to curls and adjusted. "Oh! But do let me guess your name!" He injects with glee before Lea can offer her own.
Tapping his chin he eyes Lea with a critical eye though the smile never fades. "Penny, perhaps? No...no...Maria? Pfft. Nyet! Oh...mmm...no, not yet at any rate," This last said with a pause, name on the tip of their tongue.
"Leah perhaps?" Is offered i stead with mischief in their eyes. Playful and open about it.
There's a laugh from Lea, and she shakes her head at both of the names offered up, before nodding, shyly, at the third. What harm is there in letting someone call her a shortened version of her 'real' name, after all... still, truth matters, right? "Well... Leander. B-but you can call me Lea, that's okay. My sister does when Báte isn't around." The child smiles, a little sadly. "It's nice to meet you, Petre. But we should go back to the tower, someone may have seen you... glowing. You shouldn't show people what you can do, they get scared..."
<FS3> Perdita rolls Alertness (8 8 8 7 4 4 2) vs Sandman's Grip (a NPC)'s 5 (8 5 5 5 4 4 1)
<FS3> Crushing Victory for Perdita. (Rolled by: Kailey)
Maybe it is saying that deadname that does it. But the now Perdita becomes aware of her dream self quite suddenly. And when she does her body changes to match her real self. Not the body that was at the time of this. And uet Perdita doesn't remember any of this happening that night...right?
And yet that face and smile, that oddly generalized European accent, everything seems achingly familiar. And Perdita realizes Petre's eyes are the color of violets as they steps closer. He gestures towards the tower before offering his arm and says, "Would you care to join me for some pie? You can meet my friend Eye. Our little nook of the world is safe and warm. And has one of the best chefs around."
<FS3> Perdita rolls Composure: Success (7 7 2 2 1) (Rolled by: Perdita)
This... is a Dream. She isn't sure how she didn't know it immediately, but it's a dream. Not that it shows on her now altered face. "I would love some pie, Petre..." she hesitates only briefly before accepting the arm. The only way out is through, Ravn taught her that months ago, and though she doesn't remember this night, it still feels somehow true, a memory she must have pushed away. "Where are you from? I like your accent." her voice is warm, friendly, though internally she's scrambling, trying to remember this night. Her father, Danior has gotten angry with her mother, Gabriella, over something. Her. Too soft, too feminine. Divorce had come up again as the fight raged on, and when her older brother went out with friends, she'd snuck aboard their little yacht and hidden on Heart Island. It was a quiet night Nobody even realized she was gone and she was back home the next day before anyone was the wiser... right?
Petre looks delighted when Perdita slips her arm through theirs. Then he begins walking into the tower. As they pass through the doorway and turn a corner there is a door that was not there before. And through it those delightful smells of pie come. But not just pie but sunlight gently filters through.
Another two steps takes them through into a huge yard. Though yard is perhaps a weak word to describe this space. It is walled in by giant hedges on three sides, blocking the view to whatever lays outside. Overhead the sky is blue with a scattering of clouds that always seem to be in some fun shape or another. But the yard itself is full of toys. A giant playground to rival that of San Francisco's Golden Gate park. A wooden castle structure complete with towers is on one side. Traditional slides and swingset are off to one side in a sanded area. There are flowerbeds lining the large porch as well as a firepit, two picnic tables, and a bbq.
"Welcome to Sanctuary!" Petre says with a wave of his hand to the backyard. "As for where I come from...many places. But originally I come from Ireland." As he talks he slowly walks towards the huge French doors that lead into the house. From inside faint music and children's laughter can be heard. "I can't wait for you to meet my friends. Everyone who is here was once lost like you."
She allows herself to be led along by the arm, footsteps not betraying any hesitance she might feel, dark eyes taking in all of it with a childlike wonder she hasn't felt in years. She smiles wide at the space, at the magic of night turning to day, the playground, the massive yard...
"It's beautiful... But... was I lost?" she asks, looking about, still taking it all in. "I want to meet your friends, too."
Petre turns to look at Perdita and his smile is gentle. "You may not realize it now, but yes. Or you wouldn't have gone to the tower, would you? Lost is not just a place, but a state of mind, and a state of spirit. Maybe here you can find some guidance," He speaks in that same voice, still looking maybe 15, but there is an age in those words and in those odd violet eyes.
Yet still he smiles and releases Perdita's arm to move ahead and open the door for Perdita in gentlemanly fashion. Looking in there is a sunroom and beyond that a hallway. The tempting smells come from within. Petre leading the way through the house and towards the sound of playful shouts and laughter. Upstairs there is the rapid thudding of children chasing children.
Yet what comes down the stairs are not children, but toys. Toys that are of varying sizes and from varying eras of the last century. "Petre! Petra! Petre!" Their voices are just like those of youngsters, though their bodies have that of dolls. At the lead of the pack is a Raggedy Anne doll who leaps to be caught be Petre and spun around. He laughs and when he does it almost sounds like bells.
"Hello Annie, Berny, Lily, Xin!" He greets them with enthusiasm as they all clamber to hug a leg or a waist or whatever they can reach. Beyond the Raggedy Anne Perdita spots a 60s style Barbie dressed in poodle skirt and matching top, a large brown Pound Puppy, and the last is a delicate looking porcelain China doll.
As the youth opens the door for Perdita, she smiles and gives a little half curtsey, only to find her way inside. Looking upstairs, she smiles... and then the smile freezes, ever so slightly, and she tilts her head to look from the toys to Petre, stepping slightly to one side.
"I don't understand." she finally manages, trying to keep the sinking feeling in her stomach out of her voice. Unfortunately, she's pretty sure she does understand, at least, her adult self does, but she's hoping her understanding was wrong.
"It's very nice to meet you all, but... I thought you said they were lost like me...? They're..."
The toys all turn suddenly to look at Perdita with surprise on their animated toy faces. The Pound Puppy's tail begins wag eagerly. "A new friend?!?" A boys voice asks from the Puppy with excitement as he begins to run about Petre's legs.
The Raggedy Anne doll releases Petre and turns her stitched smile on Perdita. There is a little curtsy and she says, "Hello! I'm Annie." And then she turns to look at Petre with what is clearly a questioning gaze, even for her face.
"Ah, I did. Those who choose to stay cannot as a human. For humans age and when you hit a certain age...well, it is different for everyone who chose to stay as they were. But most find it uncomfortable. Their adult mind unable to accept the existence that is Sanctuary," Petre speaks in that same wise voice. His hand makes a sweeping motion to indicate the house and all within and without it.
"But like this, our favorite toys or what makes us feel...right, we can stay forever. Or until we get tired and decide it is time to rest," The Raggedy Anne doll seems to take up where Petre left off. Earning her a warm smile from the red-haired youth. "Like this we are free and found. Wanted. Eye and Petre make sure we have everything we want. And in exchange we help chase away the Nightmares."
The Pound Puppy gets a smile... a sad one. She can't help it. "Pleased to meet you, Annie. I'm P-... Lea. You can call me Lea." She returns the curtsey.
"Petre... I think I'm Dreaming, right now." Perdita says softly, meeting those odd violet eyes. "But I don't remember any of this. I think... that means I chose not to stay, doesn't it?" she tilts her head slightly, smiling sadly. "Chasing away the Nightmares sounds very important, but I think I chose to go back to my family."
Everything freezes when Perdita makes her statement. Everything but Petre. They smile a bit sadly and sigh before nodding. "Yes, you did. Your story was not meant to be told here. But you came and saw and are still tied to Sanctuary. As someone who was once lost," He explains even as his features change slightly.
Already fine features become finer. His eyes grow larger and the angles of his face more prominent. And his ears lengthen into beautiful wing-like tapering points. But the smile doesn't change.
Some would call him an elf, other a spirit, some might name him Sidhe. All those names are fitting and wrong at once. "I can't keep you here now. Now that you're aware...but at least you'll remember everything," He says with a sigh. And that sigh seems to begin to wash away the scenery.
Things begin to fade from view into the darkness behind ones own eyelids. "The Nightmares are coming," Petre's voice whispers in her ear before Perdita wakes in bed. The smell of apple pie heavy in the air.
A slice of said pie sits on a small plate on Perdita's bedside table with a glass of milk.
"Wait, I'm sorry... I want to see what happens next..." Perdita protests softly... but she already knows it's too late. She shouldn't have spoken up, but something told her Petre should know the truth, that if an adult mind couldn't handle what she was to see, she should speak... She wakes with tears in her eyes and a deep sense of having lost something important... and wakes in her own massive bed, a sleeping form buried under blankets next to her. Wiping at the tears, she sighs softly and gently shifts herself to sitting. Another sleepless night... but at least there's pie? She smiles, sadly, and reaches for her phone. Time to text Ravn and let him know what she remembers of the dream... and ask if eating the pie would be okay. Because it smells delicious.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : So... I just had a dream about, um... Petre Pan. And there's pie sitting on my night stand. On a scale of 1-deadly poison, how dangerous is this pie? I'm hungry.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Peter Pan? Kid in green Robin Hood costume, Neverland, second star to the right, weird Spanish pirates and racist trope Indian princesses?
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : Green costume, yes, no weird racist tropes. Red hair, curls. Pointy ears, violet eyes, androgynous... kids that were turned into toys fighting off nightmares... I think it was a memory.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : ...
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Yes. I think that was a memory.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : 'Cause I have one like it.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : That, or the Veil is doing a multi-person story about fairy abduction now.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : It felt like a memory, but I don't remember being abducted by a ginger twink with purple eyes. I remember my parents fighting, sneaking aboard my brother's friend's yacht, hiding for the night after climbing Alster Tower and waking up dirty and sneaking home before anyone realized I was gone.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : I do remember. I was seven or eight years old. I ran away from home -- again -- and I met this kid. He took me to a place full of toys that were alive. We ate a lot of candy and pastries. And then he let me go home. I never considered it in regard to the Veil because it was never ominous, you know? Just one of those weird childhood memories you figure that you probably just made up.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : Well, there's a slice of apple pie and a glass of milk sitting on my nightstand that tells me the dream I just had was real, memory or not, and Petre said 'the Nightmares are coming'.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : He was called Petra in my dream. Not that it matters -- I think. I don't remember him saying anything about nightmares -- but this was twenty-five years ago, I could have forgotten.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : ... One of the kids called him Petra in mine, too. I'm eating this pie.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Well, the food that I remember was delicious, and definitely not harmful. I'm not sure what Petra's deal is, but if he's some kind of Veil entity, I'm not convinced he means us harm. Which is not to say he's not dangerous -- the Revisionist didn't want to harm us either, and she certainly managed in a couple of cases, my own included.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : Right. Sorry if I woke you, I just... needed pie advice. Going to try to go back to sleep in a minute.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : It's not the most absurd thing I've been woken up for...
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Look, let's name drop this Petra a few places. See if others respond. And if they do, maybe get together and compare notes.
(TXT to Ravn) Perdita : Sounds like a plan. Goodnight, Ravn.
(TXT to Perdita) Ravn : Sleep well. And enjoy the pie.
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