2022-04-24 - Into the Woods

Jules has taken over the library to lay out all her camping gear. It's an impressive amount, when it's spread out like this on the floor. Thermal sleeping bag. Single person tent. Inflatable mattress. Cookset. A couple water bottles, purification tablets, energy bars. An old-fashioned compass and maps, alongside a GPS tracker. A first aid kit. Bear spray. A headlamp. Extra clothing, namely base layers and underwear. She sits among her things with a notepad, brow furrowed as she takes stock.

Why the library? For one, it keeps her out of everyone's way. And there's always a possibility that their resident Asshole Ancestor Ghost will decide to be helpful, somehow, in ways Jules can't anticipate. She's open to it, so here she is.

The library is one room in the house that Una generally prefers to avoid: it's creepy, even now when most of the available floor space is taken up by the distinctly modern. Somehow, this room never quite warms up, or stops smelling musty.

She hovers, now, just outside the threshold, watching Jules without actually stepping inside. The library door is just a few steps away from the front door, and the front door? Today it's wide open, all the better to capture the summer sunshine, even if none of it quite seems to make it into the library itself.

"Are you sure about this, Jules? Really, really sure?" Una frets, the concern as audible in her tone as it is visible upon her so-expressive face.

How does Ravn know that Jules is up to something? How does he know a lot of things that go on around here?

Yep. Old Mrs Wright told him that nice girl next door is packing a bag. She must be going somewhere exciting. Mrs Wright reminisced for quite a while about drives taken and boyfriends dated and Ravn listened politely and tapped his foot mentally, and really, sometimes he wishes Gray Harbor's ghosts were a bit less wordy. Mrs Wright is a kind little soul and he often sees her near the Pond on his daily long walks, and that's awful nice, you must tell me the rest of the story some other time, Mrs Wright, yes, I'll be sure to tell Matthew to keep watering the begonias, byeeeee.

Now he's knocking on the door of number five because there's one thing he wants to give Jules for her trip and he can only hope he's not too late.

"I'm sure," Jules answers, sounding more distracted than reassuring as she goes down her list. "Glowsticks -- I think those are in the hood of my pack." She leans forward and pulls it into her lap so she can check, then mark it off her list. "Oh, good, my knife's in here too. Matches, check." In a waterproof plastic bag. "Toilet paper -- Una, could you grab me a roll? Is that the door?"

The distraction doesn't help Una's disquiet, but she sucks back a breath rather than argue it (again, and again, and again). She doesn't answer Jules, not about the toilet paper and not about the door, but she does turn away from the library so that she can go and see who it is-- and sigh, as she beckons Ravn in. "Are you going to convince her not to be stupid? I'd really appreciate some back-up here. Hi, Ravn."

That disquiet? It's still there, so very deeply set into her expression.

Ravn quirks an eyebrow as he's ushered in (and looks around because he knows there's a ghost here, and he hates jump-scares, please stay out of his way, thanks). "I don't know that she's being stupid? Looks like she's planning pretty well. Stupid would be just tucking a burger in a bag and heading up the mountains in sandals and a wind-breaker, I figure."

Maybe he's missed a point somewhere. He dips into a blazer pocket and takes out -- a small stick. A bit like a magician's wand, except no longer than a finger, and no thicker, either. It's been stripped of bark and bleached white by the ocean; driftwood then. "I brought you some back-up magic, though. This whole venture? It's got more than one foot in the realm of stories, and where I'm from we've got a story you might like. When foxes and other trickster spirits want to be invisible, they carry a white stick in their mouths. I got you one -- both as a token of good luck and in case you do find yourself in a Dream where being invisible sounds like a great idea."

"Did someone say toilet paper?" Della, emerging with exactly that; she bypasses the couple by the entrance -- "Hello, Ravn" -- in favor of the library proper, aiming to catch Jules' eye and potentially give her that fresh roll to catch, too. But after that, turning back...

There's a token to eye with great fascination. She starts to reach out, then stops: not hers and it'll maybe go in Jules' mouth. "Does the story say why it works?"

"You realize I've done this before, right?" Jules calls after Una. Kind of. Without the limited food supplies and searching for a spiritual Beyond the Veil experience part.

She's not expecting a reply, so keeps going down her list. "Space blanket. Should be with the first aid kid." She leans forward and pulls that over next to double-check, pausing to grin at Della and catch the toilet paper thrown her way. "Thanks." When Ravn enters the library, she looks up at him from her spot in the center of the camping maelstrom with a genuinely delighted smile. "Thank you." She holds an empty hand up, eyes warm and expression soft. Likely softer than Ravn's ever seen it. "That's really kind."

Ravn, you're no help. Una doesn't quite throw up her hands in disgust and despair, but the sentiment is surely there in her expression. Neither the Dane nor Jules get a verbal response: the redhead leads the way into the library proper, this time, though she lurks around the edges with both arms crossed.

Mutiny may still be an option.

"It doesn't," Ravn tells Della. "It's one of those things we've lost. Foxes are trickster spirits in European tradition, but a lot of their tricks were passed down in tradition in that everybody knows that fashion that neglects to leave notes for the next generation. It's just how it is. Sometimes you see a fox carrying a stick. Sometimes, the fox carries a stick to be invisible -- and then you don't see him, but your chickens are still missing. I have seen foxes ambling along with sticks for no apparent reason, I guess that's where the myth hails from. It's pretty pan-European."

He winces slightly at Una's glare. "She is taking GPS and a means to communicate if she needs help," the Dane points out.

Della, stepping back against the doorframe, observes; she sends a sidelong, speculative look Una's way before it's storytime. Well after a half-laugh for 'everybody knows,' "Fascinating." If she has any followups, though, she doesn't mention them.

"You, a trickster," she teases Jules instead. "Imagine that."

"This is really thoughtful of you," Jules tells Ravn, turning the smooth piece of driftwood over in her hands. "I'll keep it close at hand." She grins at Della again, laughter in her eyes. "It's like there's a theme or something going on."

Then, "Della, will you remind her that I used to lead hiking trips as a summer job? And that I've got this fancy-schmancy new GPS-interactive SOS-text capable satellite messenger device and not just my old PLB." Personal Locating Beacon. Jules assumes that her housemates know the acronym by now, given the discussions (and arguments) that they've had.

Una knows, most likely, that she's being childishly petulant about this. She probably can't even properly articulate why, except that-- except that.

"She's not taking nearly enough food to sustain anybody, let alone someone doing active hiking," she points out, sulkily. "Della, tell her."

She'd normally be so interested in that gift, too, and in the story that accompanies it; realistically, though, having pushed herself down the petulant hole, it's hard to come up for air and show interest in anything.

Who's going to lecture on sufficient amounts of food? Not this bloke, that's who. Ravn looks at Una instead and suggests, carefully, "I think Jules is making a good choice in not trying this here, this close to the thin spot. Better a couple of curious elks or something, than some of the things that might pop out and say hello around these parts."

Della obligingly turns. Once Ravn has had his say, "Una, Jules wants you to know that she is completely qualified to go out in the great beyond with a lot of other people and bring them safely back the next day, and also that she has new tech -- you've tested it, right, Jules? -- that lasts a whole lot of syllables in a row."

That reminds her: "And do you have bug repellent? Unless that's part of the point, you have to be eaten to earn knowledge in the great circle of life. Assuming you live long enough. Una wants you to live a nice long time and be well-fed, too. Think of the bugs."

"I'll take a bear over something that actively means me harm," Jules chimes in after Ravn. She looks earnest, though there's something to her gaze that suggests mischief, like she knows this isn't necessarily reassuring for Una, the idea of meeting bears out in the wilderness. "Besides. I've got bear spray."

She has the stifle her laughter when Della does in fact summarize her words for Una once more. Softer, "Una, I'll be fine. Promise." Then, more sharply: "Bug spray! I knew I was forgetting something."

(TXT to Della) Jules : test test test not dead yet

Logic is not helpful to Una, at this particular moment; she answers Ravn's suggestion with a wild-eyed glance, and Della's comment doesn't get much more, except that, a moment later: "Yeah, a lot of other people. You're not supposed to do this kind of thing on your own, damn it. Jules."

Also bears. Also also.

"If you die, I will never bring you cookies."

"Not going to lie, I'd prefer most ghosts to a bear." Ravn smiles wryly. "Even if I'm pretty sure most bears are more afraid of me than I am of them. But then, I don't profess to be a wilderness kind of person. Jules knows what she's doing. Doesn't mean we're not going to be worried sick, Jules, so please, text us at regular intervals -- just 'hi, still alive', something. Just to let us know that you're doing all right."

To Una, "Isn't she, though? That's the point: see more of who she is on her own. Even if it's without us."

Della glances down at her watch, then casts Jules a grin. "Good start. And I second that."

Jules has both her phone and the fancypants satellite device out next to each other now, plugging in numbers from one to the other and sending out quick test texts. She pauses altogether to get to her feet. Stepping out of her packing mess, she swoops in for a fierce, tight hug. Una isn't going to evade this one. "I've gone overnight solo hiking before. And I'll text you. I'll be okay," she tells Una, mouth close to her ear and voice lowered. "And I won't die. I need those cookies."

Over Una's shoulder, she mouths to the other two, Take care of her. Louder, "I promise to text once a day." Unless she gets sucked into the Veil where even satellite surface doesn't reach. But she doesn't say that, not now.

(TXT to Ravn) Jules : hi its Jules check in on Una while I'm gone pls?

Una is brittle in Jules' embrace. She doesn't pull away, but neither does she relax into it, at least not immediately. Stiff, all sharp edges and hot emotion; she squeezes her eyes closed, though don't think for a moment she'd acknowledge the tears that are forming there. They're an illusion; everything is fine.

"You'd better," is what she says, so very quietly, and a little choked.

Super quiet thumbs up behind Una's back; Ravn is going to make sure to have at least one daily errand at Oak Five. Most of them probably involve bizarre questions such as, can you make honey cakes, and, what exactly are honey cakes.

He glances at Della and Una and, in an attempt to lift the mood perhaps, mock whispers: "So, once she's gone, that's when we order the pizza and the strippers, right?"

Della watches, intent -- and that means she catches Jules' message, and nods once. "Does that thing do group tex... ha!" It's loud, louder than she might have wanted, especially with Una right there, like that.

Substantially softer, though not unamused, "Right. That's absolutely what we're going to do."

Jules doesn't let go right away, even when she feels how stiff Una is. Instead, she squeezes tighter and gives her a peck on the cheek before she steps back. "Yeah, I can group text."

Then, "Wait. I'm missing pizza and strippers? Not cool, guys. Not cool."

(TXT to Una) Jules : test one two three!

(TXT to Una) Jules : see you can't get rid of me!

Honey cakes are a thing, and... look. It's entirely possible that Jules will come back and instead of there just being a vegetable garden and general Disney garden in the backyard, there will also be bees. Honey. Distraction!

The redhead squeezes her eyes closed again, as if that will really get rid of the tears (how embarrassing), and then attempts a laugh-- easier, once Jules has stepped back, though still not easy.

"Pizza and strippers, and more boozy brownies," she confirms, at least more or less able to laugh about this.

Her phone buzzes. She'll inevitably look at it, later, and... maybe not smile, but.

Ravn has too much manners to check his phone in the middle of a conversation -- look at that snob -- and also, he knows from experience, that it's usually somebody at HOPE with an EMERGENCY!!!one!! and it'll just have to wait a bit. Later, he will read, and confirm to Jules that yes, of course he will.

"Pizza and strippers, drunk faeries, and honey cakes." Firm nod. "Better get back soon, Jules, you're going to miss out on all the fun."

"Maybe we'll save one or two for your birthday," Della allows, subtly more relaxed now that Una's more at ease. "You'll just have to come back and see."

Meanwhile, Jules is over here merrily sending off messages in the middle of conversation. Presumably it's all part of her preparation and testing out the device, but let's face it, she's also prone to texting while talking on the regular. "You better save some of the fun for me. Can I have a stripper for my birthday?"

(TXT to Mikaere) Jules : hey its Jules going on that hiking trip I told you about for the next week or so (after last minute shopping) this is my sat-phone. But just fyi if you don't hear from me for awhile, not ghosting you.

"Oh god, I was kidding about the strippers," murmurs Una, who has at least recovered enough to be able to joke-- even if her expression is not entirely at ease. "No strippers. Just cake. And only if you come back soon."

"I suppose that depends on two things," Ravn says, smoothly. "Whether you can catch her, and whether you're willing to clean the cage yourself. Him if appropriate, boy strippers are a thing and all."

(TXT to Jules) Mikaere : Okay. Stay safe, okay? You need anything, you call. Good luck.

(TXT to Mikaere) Jules : thumbs up

Della's caught in a double-take, laughing. "Might have to stay on the porch," she notes. But then another look at Una and -- "The important thing is, you'll be careful, you'll be as safe as these things go, you're prepared, and you're out there to find what there is to find. Good hunting." She steps back, then, out to the hallway. "We might even leave you some coffee..."

"Awwww," comes Jules' mock-sad reply. "What about stripper coming out of a cake? No? Him, her, whatever. I'm not picky about my strippers." One more text, and then she's done, phone going back into her jeans pocket and the heavy-duty device turned off to save battery. "Also, my birthday's not for another month, just for the record. That's either a lot of time to make the best cake ever or a long-ass time for me to be out on my own. If I'm not back in two weeks tops, send Search and Rescue after me. Or if I haven't checked in for a couple days."

"Thanks, Della. I'll probably be dying for coffee when I get back." Jules blows a kiss after her other housemate, then puts her hands on her hips as she surveys her gear. "Anything else you can think of? I got bug spray to pick up, and I think I'll get a flare while I'm at it. Otherwise, everything on my list is good to go."

Una? She shoots a glance at Ravn, and then another one at her housemates, both of whom are included in her hesitant expression. "Just... come back," she instructs.

Soon. But maybe that goes unsaid.

Ravn nods his agreement with Una. And only when he really hopes Jules is actually out of earshot does he murmur, "I wonder if I can pay somebody to jump out of a cake. I mean, you say that and expect nothing to happen, you deserve to be pranked."

"I will. I'm like a bad ex. I'm hard to get rid of, and I keep coming back." Jules says it with a wide smile, and then she's sweeping out of the room, off to pick up that bug spray.