Experience in Darker Matters

Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Rance » Sun Feb 22, 2015 1:36 pm

The missive had come by grubby messenger at dawn:

Glenn,

I shale be viseting latter in the day and there will be companey with me, for we have got matters to discuse witch require your wisdom of things which are not black nor white but very very gray: and for this I woult like us to sheath the dull soreds of our very stubbern perspectives in the interest of progress,

yours,

G. Wynsee

His home was in Myrkentown proper, surrounded on all sides by the natural business and bustle of a common people striving to survive through a blistering winter. The squat manor's placement was fitting, Gloria Wynsee realized -- for he so believed himself to be the throbbing, pulsing heart of the town -- that he should live in the near-labyrinthine core of it. The shuttered windows allowed neither a view in nor out, but she was sure this address, obtained from the Inquisitory's records, was his. To the left of his home was a candlemaker's shop, and to the right, a rugmaker's abode, where broken weaving-wheels and the scrap of broken latchhooks lay discarded on an age-burdened porch.

Gloria Wynsee muttered under her breath to her compatriot, one Ailova Smith: "Now be very aware: he'll corner you with speeches, and -- and with matters so vexing and philosophical, you will likely at once think your mind altogether lost. That's just his way. He's taken stock of -- of the right and wrong of so many things, you'll have to parse the relics of knowledge from the flotsam."

At the simple manor's simple door, Gloria visibly steeled herself against an expectation, a certainty--

She would leave this conversation immensely frustrated.

The heel of her palm banged once, twice upon the door.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Glenn » Mon Feb 23, 2015 2:23 am

By this point Gloria Wynsee likely had Burnie's number, as it was. Given just a bit more time, he would have gotten a letter back to her, would have introduced ideas and assumptions so brazen and tangential that she would have, frustrated and bedeviled, sent a response back immediately, and this visit would have never happened. Maybe she understood it, maybe she didn't, and if she did, maybe she understood what a wonderful method of deflection it was for any would be hermit. Of course, maybe Burnie wanted those conversation, thirsted for them and was oblivious that he was stabbing himself in the foot by pushing for them too broadly. Somethings were simply unknowable.

What could be easily proven, however, was that no letter came in response. There wasn't time, not for a messenger to find her again. He could have posted a note on his door, but that would have been far too prickly, even for himself. So the day went on without further coin exchanging hand and further messages being sent and eventually, there was a knock upon a door, and that door was opened.

On the other side was Burnie, thankfully fully dressed, albeit casually, in now unseasonable browns and blacks. He looked to be about thirty, though the way his hair (not long but still in need of a cut) was currently mussed might have knocked a few years off of that, if only one did not look him in the eyes, an act which would immediately counter the visual effect. He was of average height (just below it), and his clothes were baggy enough that it was hard to tell if he was athletic or slightly overweight. There was a lethargy to the way he moved that might suggest the latter, but then the eyes would muddy that estimation as well. "Do you know," he'd begin, not looking at Wynsee's companion yet, those much-mentioned eyes still adjusting to the light outside, "that some people consider the idea of 'progress' to be a false construct?"
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby highawaywoman » Mon Feb 23, 2015 5:18 am

Gloria was true to her word. It wasn't long before the stout and sweating girl was ushering Ailova down a busy street in downtown Myrken, their path to the nameless one with apparently answers to everything. Like a feckin' oracle out of a tragedy. The shorter woman was intent and didn't spare any more details until they had come to a stop before a respectable, albeit plainish manor.

That's just his way. He's taken stock of -- of the right and wrong of so many things, you'll have to parse the relics of knowledge from the flotsam."

This bugger was sounding a wee bit like her uncle after a few pints.

Then the door opened to the foreigner's neat knock, revealing the one that Ailova could only assume Gloria had been prattling on about. Especially with his first words, "Do you know, that some people consider the idea of 'progress' to be a false construct?"

Gloria's companion blinked, pushing the wide brim of her slouch hat upwards to gain a better look at the man. Where Gloria was short and stocky, Ailova was tall and thin to the point of being gaunt. She was older too, mayhap in her mid-thirties by the looks of her lined mouth and the crinkles near shrewdly gazing eyes. Not a beauty, by any stretch of the imagination. Ailova was dressed in male riding garb, fitted leather breeches, tall black riding boots, blunted spurs, and an oversized frockcoat covered most of her form. A grimy, once white neckcloth had been tied around her neck, not for fashion, but to hopefully ward off the chill.

Despite all the hellish happenings of the past fortnight or more, Ailova couldn't help but give the man before them a wide grin that glinted with gold teeth.

"Feck, Gloria. I dinnae ken he was that bad." This looked like it would be a very interesting conversation indeed.

"In me own estimation? Progress is indeed a false construct. Usually placed by noobs who 'ave less notion o' the matter then the peasants they force it upon."
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Rance » Mon Feb 23, 2015 10:18 am

...I dinnae ken he was that bad.

Glenn appeared; Glenn appeared as a stain, a half-hinged specimen of a man who looked quite used to this life of seclusion. He greeted them with his question; Ailova fielded it deftly, while Gloria only offered Glenn a weighted smile. She knew him. He knew her. He'd said it before: they were too much alike, even if they'd been born in two totally different cultures.

"Hello, Glenn."

(Did he remember the times, two years ago, when he was Burnie? When he received from her the respect afforded him by his title alone?)

Behind her and AIlova, the avenue flowed with a sea of people: grimy Myrkeners trudged through the gray slush of winter, leading carts and peddling wares to passers-by. Gloria's hems wore the bleak grime of the street, but for this occasion, she'd worked hard to scrub the filth from the multicolored patchwork holding her skirts together. Beside Ailova, the girl was an unlikely companion to speak about the matters they'd come to discuss--

"It's cold," she added. "I'd quite like it if we could enter and work the sophistry near the fire, or at the very least, over a cup. Wherever the wind isn't as bitter.

"This is Ailova. A friend," she said. "And I think she and I could benefit from your guidance on matters that -- that aren't suited to be spoken in broad daylight."

She flicked a furtive glance toward the brigand, her lips tightening into a muted knot.

Steel your patience, her flat face said. And somehow, simultaneously, it apologized.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Glenn » Tue Feb 24, 2015 1:06 am

The accent hit him alongside his head like a brick, though perhaps a small, smooth one. He visibly recoiled in the face of it, but only slightly. Recovery was quick and virtually effortless. His eyes sparkled with a light that could be madness or brilliance or something far less interesting than either; certainly, it was a far duller light than it once had been. As was his way, he tried to talk to both of them at once. "Best not to insult my occupation if you want my help," this to Ailova, and said perfectly deadpan, without a smile, which he only unveiled, a moment later, for Gloria. "Please imagine the best metaphor you can think up for how the wind of our discussion will be more bitter and cold inside than what nature could provide outside. Then imagine it two or three times better and just pretend I said that." He took three or four steps back and led them in.

This was once a rather grand little manor, full of fineries suitable not for a Governor, but instead for a prospective princess of fables and flair, for Rhaena Olwak during those last few months when no one could deny her and when she gorged on excess. It had been a burgeoning place in a teapot, as it was, something that Myrken had never seen.

Now it was anything but. It was cleaner than one might expect looking at the current state of the once mapmaker, once Governor, once many-things. It was neat, but that was, quite likely, due to its emptiness. A lack of clutter made it hard for things to get cluttered up. There was a fire, yes, and it was warm. There was a table nearby it, something simple and small but well made, used for dinners of two people at most, with three being a bit of a crowd. Two of the three chairs were meant for it, made by the same craftsman, most likely. The third was a more padded affair, obviously dragged over from another part of the room. It was that which he dropped into, posture terrible. "I'm disinclined to put tea on, but I think there's brandy somewhere if you want me to find it. I've made every effort to not stumble into cups, mine or anyone else's, since everything happened. Part of that is not keeping much around, but I inherited a damnable amount of the stuff from Cinnabar when I took over as Governor. It was part of his play at hospitality, at being social as someone might define it out of a book. It's only fitting that now it gets to be part of my attempt as well."
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby highawaywoman » Tue Feb 24, 2015 2:51 am

Gloria's blank look was enough to quiet Ailova from further comment. Had the man before them not been staring and remarking idly, the bandit would've had some choice words for her friend.

He was a human! Not only that, but he didn't look particularly able-bodied or magical. This was not at all what Ailova had been expecting, it was in fact disappointing. The highwaywoman was good at pasting smiles onto her face, and did so while nodding and following lastly behind Gloria into the manor. A manor. People like Ailova weren't invited into homes like these, but the man didn't seem overly put-out by his two common visitors. Give him a chance.

Ailova took the chair next to Gloria, idly wondering if she should've wiped her boots before entering. Oops.

Then the man launched into another span of words, but Ailova picked out the most important.

"Brandy, if'n ye please." At least he wasn't forcing tea down their throats.

Right then, Ailova decided to let Gloria start the talking. The worst thing you could do was insult a man's occupation, which she had apparently done in the first few seconds after meeting.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Rance » Tue Feb 24, 2015 4:53 pm

"Brandy would -- would be just fine."

She sat. And Ailova sat beside her.

Glenn dissolved into his upholstered chair across from the two women. Here, with so few objects and properties in the heart of his home, it was as though they were sitting in an official capacity in some place meant for such audiences. She allowed Glenn his humor with ill-selected metaphors without comment; no, instead, she scraped her palm across the wrinkles in her skirts. The sprigs carefully patterned into the fabric had been abused by long wear and worry, and when her fingers became bored, they picked at the corner of a hastily-affixed patch, peeling and unpeeling, peeling and unpeeling--

The brigand's silence gave her permission to speak.

"You know well enough the -- the unpleasant things that Myrken Wood breeds. In my time, I've only encountered a fraction of them, but still not yet enough to know when to avoid them."

Her lips twitched as she glanced at Ailova, mustering a smile.

"My friend and I have encountered a girl," Gloria explained, pace measured, words carefully chosen. "A child, by all accounts. Whether it comes to -- to the experiences in her life or poor breeding, she's impossible to manage: she threatens, she visits harm upon others, and she may very well have the capacity to act upon these urges. May have done so already," she adds. "She is willing to do this violence; she is ready and able to.

"You know, Glenn, what it means to bide your patience for someone with a broken soul."

Rhaena.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Glenn » Wed Feb 25, 2015 12:48 am

He sat and he listened and, at first, he made no attempt to get anyone a drink. There was no searching for servants or anything like that. While the place was clean, there was little sign of them otherwise, even if it might have been socially expected. As he had said, he was past the point of being social and well within the realm of just playing at it. Ailova didn't say much. Gloria said a good deal more, and then, at the end of her words, he rose, nodding to the highwaywoman as if acknowledging her request of a few minutes before and ignoring her companion altogether.

When he returned from a neighboring room, it was with five objects in hand, three of which were glasses, empty, precariously, but deftly enough, held in one hand, between fingers. Broken glass seemed like a near-certainty or at least a strong eventuality. in the other hand was the bottle of brandy and a small piece of paper. Objects were delivered unto the table (bottle first, then glasses, with too loud a clunk). He slid one glass towards Ailova. The other was carefully passed to Gloria's own hand, the little slip of paper long the side of it. Were she to take it, to look down at it, she would notice it was folded in half and on the outside was written:

Read Me Later

He left the bottle for either of the women to pour and settled back into his chair, his own glass still empty. Whatever he was, currently, a conscientious and polite host did not seem to be on the list.

"Here is what will happen, then," which had all the making of a Glenn Burnie speech forming like a far distant storm. "She'll be who she is, a creature of her nature, and you shall temper it with kindness and acceptance that she had not found before, that she doesn't accept at face value. There will be in-roads, understandings that you, through persistance and grit, push forward. There will be setbacks, both due to ill-timing and misunderstanding, internal setbacks that is, and due to the interference of other, darker, crueler powers, external setbacks. There is only so much you can control," and he knew that more than most, more than most people and more than most of what he said.

Here he shut his eyes. Here he leaned his head back in that chair, arcing his neck against its cushioning. He, lost in momentary thought, licked his lips unconsciously, because they were dry. "She'll come of age, come into power if she has it, and react. You'll have thought you were making progress, an objective sort, defined by what any of us would want for a girl like that," for this wasn't the time for semantics even if the beginning of their discussion today forced him to double back and reinforce the architecture of the concept. "And something horrible will happen, and in that horrible happening, you'll finally reach her, get through to her, and there'll be a real road forward for the first time. Except for, by then, blood will be on everyone's hands, most of all hers and most of all yours."

He stop then, open his eyes, and hopefully somewhere in there, one of them had poured some brandy. Either way, he wouldn't reach for a glass yet. "Girls become women. Children become adults, and adults can understand reason better. When it comes to the process of developing perspective, nothing lubricates the wheel quite like blood. You let things run their course or you try to change them with closed eyes and good intentions, and that is what will happen, for good and for ill."
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby highawaywoman » Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:11 am

While their host was not overly concerned for their refreshment, Ailova was. A steady hand poured her and Gloria a large measure, sliding the decanter to their host. The steady hand indicated that this wasn't Ailova's first drink of the day, but only Gloria would've noted such a minute detail. And then the brigand listened. And listened. And listened some more.

Bleeding hells. Ailova was infamous for her brutally blunt and to the point attitude. It's what served her best in life and career. Men who prattled on were worse then women who babbled, in her own grim estimations. A sardonic brow arched as she noticed the slip of folded paper edged near Gloria, but she did no more than shoot the younger girl a curious look.

"And something horrible will happen, and in that horrible happening, you'll finally reach her, get through to her, and there'll be a real road forward for the first time. Except for, by then, blood will be on everyone's hands, most of all hers and most of all yours."

Finally, Ailova faced the odd gentleman, deciding to break her silence.

"She's aboot nine years o' age. She wos taken as a young child from 'er parents. The place she wos put wos not fer children, ye ken? It was a place devoted to - men - and their, ahem. Own selfish pursuits?" Ailova was trying desperately to be tactful, mostly for Gloria's sake beside her, not for Glenn's.

"She 'ad moments where she's happy and productive. Even carin' 'o a verra select few. But then? The darkness takes 'old of 'her. It chokes the sense and lioght outta 'er. She's been killin' cats. And tormenting a mad woman. She's taken 'o the woman with violence. Because. Feck. Because she liokes 'o see the bruises."

Ailova drained her glass of brandy in one large swallow. Another was in order.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Rance » Thu Feb 26, 2015 2:17 am

A paper slipped into her hand bearing its own self-aware instructions.

A dram of brandy poured. And she drank, not because she must, but because the burn made the words bite less--

She's been killin' cats. And tormenting a mad woman.

Gloria deflected Ailova's inquiring glance with a minute shrug and slipped the secretive fold of parchment into the pocket of her skirts, where it crinkled against her knee with every faint shift of leg or thigh. That the brigand spoke was a relief to the girl, who sipped with care at the amber liquid. Ailova cared for the horned girl, this much was obvious: she decried the child's negatives, but established explanations, exulted the positives, the shining hints of goodness.

"How far do we stretch those good intentions, Glenn?" she asked, an honest inquiry. "Do we act quickly and solve this problem before it becomes something we cannot handle, something that -- that damages and destroys on a greater scale? Or do we wipe away the blood and keep trying?

"And before you mention Catch--" she lifts a careful finger, "--know that I know what should be done with him. That's a truth I carry to my bed at night, every night, like a sickness. That I coddled him and protected him, that I still do, when perhaps he -- he should have been relieved of his burdens a long time ago."

But never does she say killed; never does the verb cross her lips. She took up the decanter, sought to refill Ailova's glass -- and yes, even Glenn's, if he allowed.

"Is killing her a kindness, or is it a cruelty?" she asks them both.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Glenn » Thu Feb 26, 2015 2:50 am

It's with a face free of passion that Burnie listened to the highwaywoman and then to the seamstress (the once-seamstress? Books could be filled with what Glenn no longer knew). Somewhere in there, he would pour himself some brandy and would hesitate before sipping of it. Only when Gloria mentioned Catch did he respond in any real way, and that was just a glance, really more of a poker tell, a twitch, towards where she had deposited that note.

And then, much to one if not both of the women's dismay, it was his turn to speak once more. "Killing cats, tormenting the mad. She's nine and has been ill-treated. Gloria (and I don't know you Ailova, so I speak to Gloria here), Gloria, we both know that despite and in some ways because of what's happened to you over the last few years, you have infinite good intentions when it comes to a nine year old girl. If that was the whole of it, you wouldn't be here. What aren't you telling me?"

In other words, and these were words that Wynsee knew quite well: 'What sort of horrible, dangerous monster might this person become if not stopped?'
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby highawaywoman » Thu Feb 26, 2015 12:48 pm

Ailova saw herself being neatly cut out of the conversation, which was preferred in the circumstances. The second brandy she sipped, but it tasted bitter on her tongue - a tongue much more accustomed to whiskey. Gloria's question went unanswered as Glenn soon took control of the dialogue.

Impatience flickered briefly across her long face, and she cast an eyes towards Gloria. Why am I even here?

What aren't you telling me?"

Ailova hid her face behind the glass, looking at the door and then the two at the table. It was only a matter of time before she'd be dismissed.
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Rance » Thu Feb 26, 2015 4:12 pm

"I don't see futures, Glenn," Gloria responded, her remaining teeth clenched into a half-broken wall between her lips. He saw; he read her as though she was an open book, pages widespread. Her fist rubbed at her thigh, worrying fabric, then shifted up so that a thumb could jab into her collar and tug it fitfully away from her treestump of a throat. "I don't see futures," she repeated. "Only possibilities. All of them frightful, all of them ending with someone else broken, damaged, or dead. Ailova sees them too, I think, in every action the girl takes.

The glass again. She lifted it, swirled it, and stared into the vortex of foam.

"She hangs dolls from her ceiling to punish them for their imaginary wrongdoings.

"She threatened my child, the infant I've yet to hold, with -- with violence of a carnal sort."

Her breath filtered out through her flaring nostrils. Trembling knuckles whitened as she clenched the glass.

Ailova's glance, she caught -- and she returned it with a calm that belied the tension roiling through her lone hand. What she said next was matter-of-fact, but cold. Cold as only a Sun-skinned Jerno could conjure. "I brought Ailova here, Glenn, to ensure her that we function always with caution and consideration. Because if I am left to -- to decide Phor's fate, if it is put into my hands alone to fix the child's ills? I'll kill her. And I would succeed, because I am very good at destroying the lives of others."

No more brandy. She surrendered her glass.

"Ailova," the seamstress said. "I trust you as -- as a friend, as I hope you trust me. But my own judgment in matters like this, I question. Do you believe, truly, that she's redeemable?"
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby Glenn » Fri Feb 27, 2015 1:23 am

"We're always very, very careful when we damn people." On paper, that might have been a self-depreciating statement, something with room for mirth. In practice, it was something of the former, but hardly the latter, said with dark eyes, and followed by a chaser of brandy. He swished the liquid rudely (and unadvisedly) in his mouth before swallowing.

By now, he knew Gloria, whether she wanted him to or not. He knew her too well and it frustrated him when he couldn't transfer that knowledge into anything useful. The highwaywoman, on the other hand, he didn't know. Rarely, though, did that stop him from making asses out of everyone in a quarter-mile radius. Here and now, he met the woman's eyes, if she let him. His were brown, steady with that twinkle of something strange, be it inspiration or madness. "If I've heard this correctly, you're here because you disagree with Gloria. This isn't even an issue, right? She's nine. There's right and there's wrong, and maybe twenty people can be saved later if one's killed now, but that's ridiculous. All that matters is that there's a girl, now, ill-treated, ill-cared for, and it's wrong to punish her for who she is and what she's been through. Is that the whole of it?"

Those were certainly no words she had spoken to him, and maybe, in her, in her eyes, he was looking for someone else who might have said them. "There are lines we don't cross and things we can't abide?"
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Re: Experience in Darker Matters

Postby highawaywoman » Sat Feb 28, 2015 8:19 am

It didn't seem likely that the bandit was going to escape the conversation. Instead, both sets of eyes turned to her, their questions spoken and flashed in their gazes. Och, Phor. Ailova took another sip of the brandy, taking time to find the right words for such a grim topic. It's not that Ailova was above killing. Blood did stain her hands, but she didn't murder children.

"Do you believe, truly, that she's redeemable?"

"Och. 'Tis nae somethin' I even lioke 'o give breath 'o, ye ken? The chiold. She be redeemable, aye? Cannae she be reached ev'n though she's felt the thrill o' killin' and maimin'?"

The glass was set down and bright green eyes met the look from Burnie first.

"She's me ward. I 'ook 'er in when she 'ad no one. She trusts me, if'n she can trust anyone. And- And I'd find it verra hard 'o take that trust and kill 'er for it. I'd be the monster that she sees in ever'one and believes resiodes in 'erself."

The highwaywoman cast her eyes above, murmuring a quick prayer under her breath, before looking to Gloria.

"And I do fear that it's only a matter of time, verra short time, that she'll kill."

"The question to you is, can we retrain her? Fiond that monster inside and tell 'er that it's nae wot makes her?

"See. That's the prooblem with Phor. Ye address those things and she'll call ye all manners of nastiness and go into a downward spiral."

"There are lines we don't cross and things we can't abide?"

"Aye. Aye, killin' would be easier. But, I havenae been known 'o take the easiest rooad in liofe."
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