It was really nice of Matt to take me to a cabin in the mountains for a few days away from city life. He and Mel are much more used to the noise and rhythm of New York City than I am. Maybe it’s the influence of the fey powers I’ve been granted, I prefer to think that it’s just that even when you take the girl out of the country, you never really take the country out of the girl. So out there, in the mountains, at a cabin only accessible by helicopter and hiking boots, surrounded by uninterrupted vistas and unblemished nature, I felt more than comfortable. I felt like I was at home. The only thing missing was a couple of horses to ride.
Matt, on the other hand, was having a few problems. Well there was only one problem really, but it was the root of several more. For whatever reason the solar power panel he’d mounted on the cabin wasn’t passing the power along to the water heater and water pump like he’d hoped. While I’d insisted that such conveniences like hot running water weren’t totally necessary for my comfort, there was a principle at stake here for him. Stuff he builds works. If it doesn’t work, he has to make it work.
So I left him to play with his inventions and headed for a small pond I’d spotted on the hike in. I was going to rinse the sweat off of me the way I used to back home, with a quick dip.
It didn’t take me long to find the place. A small clearing in the trees gave it away. It also allowed the sunlight in to warm a large flat topped boulder at the edge of the pond - the perfect spot for drying off after my dip. I walked around the edge of the pond, carefully looking for signs of snapping turtles, water snakes and anything else I didn’t want to share my swim with. I shouldn’t have worried; the mountains are a little cold for those critters in the winter, so they never really got a chance to set up. I did find a few bear tracks, but they were for a black bear and I didn’t see any signs of cubs so no worries there.
Satisfied that there’d be no unwanted visitors I stripped down and folded my clothes neatly on top of the boulder before working my way into the water.
I will admit I would have liked the pond to be a tad warmer than it was, but the chill in the water definitely woke me up. I walked my way out to waist deep and began to splash the water against me, washing away the sweat and grime of the five-hour hike from where the helicopter had dropped us off. Happily I began humming along to the tune in my head, an old folk song about a girl bathing in the woods and being found by a rather amorous young man named Jack who then attempts to coax her from the water and into his arms.
Having rinsed my chest and arms I undid my ponytail then dunked my head under the water for a few moments before rolling over onto my back and letting myself float back up to the surface. It was nice having a lazy float in the cool water. It was a chance to relax and not think about school, werepanthers, vampires or doomsday cultists for a little while. All there was to think about was that silly song and the treasures Jack offered to the girl in the water if she would just come to him on the shore.
That is when I realized I had stopped singing when I had dunked my head but still could clearly hear the song.
What’s more, it was getting louder.
Hannah
A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
I will be who I chose to be.
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Cybermancer
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Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
In retrospect, the heater probably could have waited.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
At first I’d allowed myself to hope it was Matt being playful and spying on me. Then I realized the voice was singing in Gaelic and was accompanied by a Sheppard’s flute. That identified the singer quite clearly.
How could I have been so stupid? Coming out into the wilderness alone so close to the solstice, at the height of his power, was tantamount to inviting an encounter. Heck the boy in the song, Jack. Well Jack Robinson was one of the other names of Robin Goodfellow, my personal fey stalker.
The singing was getting louder and I didn’t have time to get out of the water and make a run for it, so instead I decided to try and hide. I paddled out further from shore and waited as long as I dared. Then, at the last possible moment before the unseen singer stepped out into the clearing I took a big breath and forced myself as deep under the surface of the pond as I could go. In seconds I was in the dimness of the bottom, hopefully invisible from the shore.
Then came the waiting. I moved as little as possible to keep from attracting attention and to conserve oxygen. I centred myself and concentrated on slowly counting in my mind. I needed to keep my heart rate under control to stay down as long as possible.
28 . . . 29 . . . I could barely make out movement near the water’s edge. Every little wave, every little ripple distorted my view, so it was impossible to make out what was really there.
52 . . . 53 . . . my lungs were aching, wanting to release the pent up stale air inside of them and replace it with fresh clean air. Still, I had to wait to be sure.
86 . . . 87 . . . I kept looking upwards, knowing that air was so close so easy to get to . . . but if I let myself get a breath whoever was there might see me.
110 . . . 111 . . . with a start I realized my clothes were still up there, laying on the rock . . . I almost panicked at that moment and raced for the surface. But the water was where I was safe . . . even though my lungs felt like they were on fire.
I had to find a way to stay down here longer, and I had to find it fast.
I remembered my first trip to the faerie kingdom, when the mermaid had taken me swimming. She had the power to allow me to breathe under the surface of the water . . . perhaps I could do the same for myself.
Spots were dancing at the corners of my vision as I tried to focus. At first I tried to work on the air in my lungs, trying to clean it so I could stay down longer. It helped a little, but it didn’t make for any more air in my lungs than before. What was there could just go a little longer, but not long enough to keep me hidden.
It did give me a moment to think however. All fey have one or more elemental connections. The Mermaids were fey of the water, so it made sense that the answer had to be in some kind of water effect. Of course that made for a few problems. I wasn’t very good with water.
Of course necessity was the mother of invention and I reached out to the water around me, searching for an idea. I felt the currents and eddies in the pond. It was all fascinating, but I needed something more and I needed it fast. I looked deeper.
I felt each little wiggle of a fish’s tale and each kick of a frog’s legs as they swum through the pond. Soon I could even feel the life and death struggles of insect larvae in the mud below me. But still it was not enough. I was starting to feel my consciousness ebbing away; I needed the solution now, so I went deeper yet again.
I found Air. Air dissolved in the water. I should have known it would be there, after all that’s how a fish breathes, but still, finding it like this made my heart skip a beat. I had the solution, now if only I could use it before I was unable to keep myself down any longer.
I focused my will into the Air and Water around me . . .
How could I have been so stupid? Coming out into the wilderness alone so close to the solstice, at the height of his power, was tantamount to inviting an encounter. Heck the boy in the song, Jack. Well Jack Robinson was one of the other names of Robin Goodfellow, my personal fey stalker.
The singing was getting louder and I didn’t have time to get out of the water and make a run for it, so instead I decided to try and hide. I paddled out further from shore and waited as long as I dared. Then, at the last possible moment before the unseen singer stepped out into the clearing I took a big breath and forced myself as deep under the surface of the pond as I could go. In seconds I was in the dimness of the bottom, hopefully invisible from the shore.
Then came the waiting. I moved as little as possible to keep from attracting attention and to conserve oxygen. I centred myself and concentrated on slowly counting in my mind. I needed to keep my heart rate under control to stay down as long as possible.
28 . . . 29 . . . I could barely make out movement near the water’s edge. Every little wave, every little ripple distorted my view, so it was impossible to make out what was really there.
52 . . . 53 . . . my lungs were aching, wanting to release the pent up stale air inside of them and replace it with fresh clean air. Still, I had to wait to be sure.
86 . . . 87 . . . I kept looking upwards, knowing that air was so close so easy to get to . . . but if I let myself get a breath whoever was there might see me.
110 . . . 111 . . . with a start I realized my clothes were still up there, laying on the rock . . . I almost panicked at that moment and raced for the surface. But the water was where I was safe . . . even though my lungs felt like they were on fire.
I had to find a way to stay down here longer, and I had to find it fast.
I remembered my first trip to the faerie kingdom, when the mermaid had taken me swimming. She had the power to allow me to breathe under the surface of the water . . . perhaps I could do the same for myself.
Spots were dancing at the corners of my vision as I tried to focus. At first I tried to work on the air in my lungs, trying to clean it so I could stay down longer. It helped a little, but it didn’t make for any more air in my lungs than before. What was there could just go a little longer, but not long enough to keep me hidden.
It did give me a moment to think however. All fey have one or more elemental connections. The Mermaids were fey of the water, so it made sense that the answer had to be in some kind of water effect. Of course that made for a few problems. I wasn’t very good with water.
Of course necessity was the mother of invention and I reached out to the water around me, searching for an idea. I felt the currents and eddies in the pond. It was all fascinating, but I needed something more and I needed it fast. I looked deeper.
I felt each little wiggle of a fish’s tale and each kick of a frog’s legs as they swum through the pond. Soon I could even feel the life and death struggles of insect larvae in the mud below me. But still it was not enough. I was starting to feel my consciousness ebbing away; I needed the solution now, so I went deeper yet again.
I found Air. Air dissolved in the water. I should have known it would be there, after all that’s how a fish breathes, but still, finding it like this made my heart skip a beat. I had the solution, now if only I could use it before I was unable to keep myself down any longer.
I focused my will into the Air and Water around me . . .
Last edited by Hannah on Wed Jul 04, 2012 7:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I will be who I chose to be.
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
Man, dude is persistant. 
I guess he gets points for not gettin dis... OOOHHH!!! SHINY!!!
What was I saying? Oh right, so you were focusing your will on the water and air around you. Ye olde H2O. So really, you were surrounded by like a third part air... or possibly all air since hydrogen can also be a gas when not bonded to oxygen. But I guess you only wanted to breathe the O, am I right?
So how'd it go? I mean, obviously you survived but what happened next?
Curious minds want to know!
I guess he gets points for not gettin dis... OOOHHH!!! SHINY!!!
What was I saying? Oh right, so you were focusing your will on the water and air around you. Ye olde H2O. So really, you were surrounded by like a third part air... or possibly all air since hydrogen can also be a gas when not bonded to oxygen. But I guess you only wanted to breathe the O, am I right?
So how'd it go? I mean, obviously you survived but what happened next?
Curious minds want to know!
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
My understanding is that 'persistant dudes' such as Robin Goodfellow can be killed when they expose themselves on our world. Though it would probably be an extremely difficult task.
Perhaps I should chaperone Hannah when she goes out into the woods. I don't think he liked me much when he saw me at the compound.
Perhaps I should chaperone Hannah when she goes out into the woods. I don't think he liked me much when he saw me at the compound.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
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Cybermancer
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Pay the Piper.
Cynthia,
As... troublesome as this particular entity has been for us, it is also a very unique being and not evil per se. Even if we can kill it, that doesn't mean we should. And there's no guarantee we could. Besides there are alternative measures that can be taken.
As for the trouble with the solar panal, turns out, the problem lay in some exposed connections that had corroded, creating too much resistance for the power to be transmitted. All I had to do was take them apart and clean them. It seemed odd to me at the time as I had covered them in grease and taped them up when originally setting it all up. Apparently the birds had pecked away the tape and then the rain washed away the grease before corroding the connections. It was inconvenient, but not insurmountable.
The problem solved, I decided to check on Hannah. I well knew the pool she was taking a dip in, having enjoyed a few swims in it myself in years gone by. Still, I was anxious about the thought of her being alone there. We were in bear country and while Hannah might see a single set of black bear tracks and think 'no big deal', I'm not so cavalier about it.
Perhaps I should have asked her to wait but anyone who knows her understands that telling Hannah not to do something dangerous is the same as asking her to do it. Besides, given the surprise I had planned for her in a couple of days when we went a little higher in the mountains, I really wasn't in a position to be lecturing anyone about taking risks.
I digress. The point was, we were in bear country and she was alone. So I grabbed the cabin shotgun along with some slugs. Then I holstered a hunting pistol I had with me for just such an occasion. Finally I grabbed a bag of emergency survival gear that included a first aid kit. Hannah has abilities I don't that allow her to be somewhat cavalier about bear tracks. I have more conventional means of putting my mind at ease.
Besides, I would not have been at all surprised to come upon Hannah in a clearing singing, surrounded by the woodland animals. You know, like those animated movies the kids like.
As it was, I did hear singing as I approached the pool. It did not however, put in my mind images of beautiful princesses. Not since the voice was masculine and rustic. It was also speaking in Gaelic. I could pick out some words here and there thanks to my time in the fey realm as a prisoner. There, it seemed everyone spoke it including me. I didn't learn it so I haven't retained it-a fading memory of a dream.
We were much too far away from the British Islands to be hearing such a melody sang so perfectly. Given the time of year and location, another possibility suggested itself immediately. It was a possibility that immediately brought my heart up to the back of my throat. If that old goat had come for Hannah... what could I do to stop him?
I glanced down at the shotgun in my hands. It seemed immediately unsuited for the task that was suddenly before me. It wasn't even loaded with the right kind of ammunition for this sort of thing. Fighting could only be considered a desperate last measure.
Before I made any rash or foolish decisions, I had to find out what exactly was going on. If it was singing, that mean it wasn't talking... or anything else. That meant it probably hadn't actually found Hannah yet. This meant I might be able to lure it away. So I forged onwards to the pond.
When I came within sight of the water, my heart again jumped. There was no sign of Hannah. I hoped she was hiding nearby. He was still singing so there was still hope. I caught the signs of movement on the far bank, so I sank back into the bush and started to circle as well.
I came to the flat rock and found her clothes. If he'd seen them, he'd know she was in the area. But if he hadn't, then I could still prevent that discovery. I gathered them up and put them in my pack.
The singing voice was still circling the pond. Hannah had to be in the area somewhere. I had to figure out a way to draw this thing away from her. I considered what I had on hand.
A hunting shotgun and pistol. Check. A knife. Check. Wire saw. Check. Fire starting kit. Check. A first aid kit. Check. Rope. Check. Fresh water and food. Check. Cooking pot set and butane burner. Check. String, twine, rolled up canvas and an emergency blanket for making an improvised shelter. Check. Compass, GPS and map. Check. Binoculars. Check.
I added my keys to my mental inventory. Would he be interested in the rape whistle or laser pointer? Probably not... though the whistle might just be useful. And I admit, the idea of him chasing a little red dot across the countryside had its entertainment value.
What did I have here that could draw the interest of a deity? For a moment an image from the Wikipedia article on Pan entered my mind. As amusing as the thought of Hannah's stalker fornicating a goat might be to me personally, it wasn't directly helpful in my current situation.
It occurred to me that I actually had everything needed to make an animal sacrifice. Except of course, the actual animal to be sacrificed. A mountain goat would be ideal right about now.
"God." I distinctly remember thinking. "I could really use some help right now."
Just then there was a sound of something large moving behind me. It wasn't the nature spirit that was the current cause of my distress. It was still singing on the other side of the pond. This sounded nearly as large though, and it was moving away from me. A goat? A bear? A dear? Right then, I didn't much care. I could use any of them as a sacrifice.
I just prayed it wasn't a trick to draw me away.
As I dove into the bush behind me, I thought I caught sight of a massive set of antlers. The animal they belonged to would have to be huge, like an elk, to explain how high they were.
"Don't let this be a distraction." I prayed silently as I pursued, catching glimpses here and there for about maybe two or three hundred meters. Then I saw it. Not the beast with the antlers but a white mountain goat, caught with its leg stuck in between some rocks. All but gift wrapped for me.
I secured my rope around the goat's legs so it wouldn't escape me. Then I pried the rocks away from its caught leg. There was no time to drag this animal to where I needed it to be. So I hefted it up to my shoulders and relied on adrenaline to give me the strength I needed to make it back to the flat topped rock.
Despite my haste, I did notice the tracks on my way back. They looked like they were made by a goat but were much, much larger. They sunk deeper into the ground than you would expect even from a goat on its hind legs. I'd seen tracks like these before. A name came unbidden to my mind. "Fanus."
Had the son of that other time's Hannah found a way to hear and answer my silent prayers? I shook my head, having no time at all to dwell on that.
I dropped the goat more roughly then I intended when I finally made it back to the flat rock. I had no intention of being needlessly cruel but I was winded and time was a crucial factor in what I was up to.
I gathered whatever would burn that was within site of the rock and I piled it on to make a pyre.
As... troublesome as this particular entity has been for us, it is also a very unique being and not evil per se. Even if we can kill it, that doesn't mean we should. And there's no guarantee we could. Besides there are alternative measures that can be taken.
As for the trouble with the solar panal, turns out, the problem lay in some exposed connections that had corroded, creating too much resistance for the power to be transmitted. All I had to do was take them apart and clean them. It seemed odd to me at the time as I had covered them in grease and taped them up when originally setting it all up. Apparently the birds had pecked away the tape and then the rain washed away the grease before corroding the connections. It was inconvenient, but not insurmountable.
The problem solved, I decided to check on Hannah. I well knew the pool she was taking a dip in, having enjoyed a few swims in it myself in years gone by. Still, I was anxious about the thought of her being alone there. We were in bear country and while Hannah might see a single set of black bear tracks and think 'no big deal', I'm not so cavalier about it.
Perhaps I should have asked her to wait but anyone who knows her understands that telling Hannah not to do something dangerous is the same as asking her to do it. Besides, given the surprise I had planned for her in a couple of days when we went a little higher in the mountains, I really wasn't in a position to be lecturing anyone about taking risks.
I digress. The point was, we were in bear country and she was alone. So I grabbed the cabin shotgun along with some slugs. Then I holstered a hunting pistol I had with me for just such an occasion. Finally I grabbed a bag of emergency survival gear that included a first aid kit. Hannah has abilities I don't that allow her to be somewhat cavalier about bear tracks. I have more conventional means of putting my mind at ease.
Besides, I would not have been at all surprised to come upon Hannah in a clearing singing, surrounded by the woodland animals. You know, like those animated movies the kids like.
As it was, I did hear singing as I approached the pool. It did not however, put in my mind images of beautiful princesses. Not since the voice was masculine and rustic. It was also speaking in Gaelic. I could pick out some words here and there thanks to my time in the fey realm as a prisoner. There, it seemed everyone spoke it including me. I didn't learn it so I haven't retained it-a fading memory of a dream.
We were much too far away from the British Islands to be hearing such a melody sang so perfectly. Given the time of year and location, another possibility suggested itself immediately. It was a possibility that immediately brought my heart up to the back of my throat. If that old goat had come for Hannah... what could I do to stop him?
I glanced down at the shotgun in my hands. It seemed immediately unsuited for the task that was suddenly before me. It wasn't even loaded with the right kind of ammunition for this sort of thing. Fighting could only be considered a desperate last measure.
Before I made any rash or foolish decisions, I had to find out what exactly was going on. If it was singing, that mean it wasn't talking... or anything else. That meant it probably hadn't actually found Hannah yet. This meant I might be able to lure it away. So I forged onwards to the pond.
When I came within sight of the water, my heart again jumped. There was no sign of Hannah. I hoped she was hiding nearby. He was still singing so there was still hope. I caught the signs of movement on the far bank, so I sank back into the bush and started to circle as well.
I came to the flat rock and found her clothes. If he'd seen them, he'd know she was in the area. But if he hadn't, then I could still prevent that discovery. I gathered them up and put them in my pack.
The singing voice was still circling the pond. Hannah had to be in the area somewhere. I had to figure out a way to draw this thing away from her. I considered what I had on hand.
A hunting shotgun and pistol. Check. A knife. Check. Wire saw. Check. Fire starting kit. Check. A first aid kit. Check. Rope. Check. Fresh water and food. Check. Cooking pot set and butane burner. Check. String, twine, rolled up canvas and an emergency blanket for making an improvised shelter. Check. Compass, GPS and map. Check. Binoculars. Check.
I added my keys to my mental inventory. Would he be interested in the rape whistle or laser pointer? Probably not... though the whistle might just be useful. And I admit, the idea of him chasing a little red dot across the countryside had its entertainment value.
What did I have here that could draw the interest of a deity? For a moment an image from the Wikipedia article on Pan entered my mind. As amusing as the thought of Hannah's stalker fornicating a goat might be to me personally, it wasn't directly helpful in my current situation.
It occurred to me that I actually had everything needed to make an animal sacrifice. Except of course, the actual animal to be sacrificed. A mountain goat would be ideal right about now.
"God." I distinctly remember thinking. "I could really use some help right now."
Just then there was a sound of something large moving behind me. It wasn't the nature spirit that was the current cause of my distress. It was still singing on the other side of the pond. This sounded nearly as large though, and it was moving away from me. A goat? A bear? A dear? Right then, I didn't much care. I could use any of them as a sacrifice.
I just prayed it wasn't a trick to draw me away.
As I dove into the bush behind me, I thought I caught sight of a massive set of antlers. The animal they belonged to would have to be huge, like an elk, to explain how high they were.
"Don't let this be a distraction." I prayed silently as I pursued, catching glimpses here and there for about maybe two or three hundred meters. Then I saw it. Not the beast with the antlers but a white mountain goat, caught with its leg stuck in between some rocks. All but gift wrapped for me.
I secured my rope around the goat's legs so it wouldn't escape me. Then I pried the rocks away from its caught leg. There was no time to drag this animal to where I needed it to be. So I hefted it up to my shoulders and relied on adrenaline to give me the strength I needed to make it back to the flat topped rock.
Despite my haste, I did notice the tracks on my way back. They looked like they were made by a goat but were much, much larger. They sunk deeper into the ground than you would expect even from a goat on its hind legs. I'd seen tracks like these before. A name came unbidden to my mind. "Fanus."
Had the son of that other time's Hannah found a way to hear and answer my silent prayers? I shook my head, having no time at all to dwell on that.
I dropped the goat more roughly then I intended when I finally made it back to the flat rock. I had no intention of being needlessly cruel but I was winded and time was a crucial factor in what I was up to.
I gathered whatever would burn that was within site of the rock and I piled it on to make a pyre.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
Matthew,
I never took you to be the type to make sacrifices to pagan gods. It must have been very frustrating for you at the time. On many levels.
It's also a somewhat out of character image to envision you covered in blood. But maybe not wholly unsurprising.
I never took you to be the type to make sacrifices to pagan gods. It must have been very frustrating for you at the time. On many levels.
It's also a somewhat out of character image to envision you covered in blood. But maybe not wholly unsurprising.
Hi! I'm Cynthia and I am my mother's daughter.
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
Defunct the strings
Of cemetary things
With one flat foot
On the devil's wing
What happened to the oher numbers?
_____What happened, Hannah? That sounds very scary. Were the other numbers held by Mr. Just Matt Too or the singinger?
When my dreams and visions help people, it’s not a burden, it’s a good thing.
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Cybermancer
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- Joined: Fri Jan 20, 2006 10:41 am
- Contact:
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
The blood wasn't pleasant but necessary, like much of what happened. And yes Clarity, it was very scary indeed. Not just for Hannah. But I don't think anyone was holding the extra numbers. 
There was a splash like the sound a rock makes when it skips over the water and I looked up from my task. Robin was no longer singing, and was in fact stepping out onto the pool, headed for its center. "Damn it." I thought. Maybe he had stumbled upon Hannah and flushed her out, forcing her into the pond. And now he was walking in after her. I could only hope she could hold her breath long enough. I had no idea how long she'd been under already.
Then something really caught my attention. He wasn't walking out into the water, he was walking on the surface of the water. "Really?" I thought to myself. "Too good to get a little wet? Congratulations. You're now exactly as holy as a spider that walks on water.
There was no time for prolonged mental sarcasm, however. I had work to do if I was going to draw that thing away and give Hannah a chance.
Grabbing the goat by the horns, I yanked its head back while it bleated its complaints at me. "I am truly sorry, but you would have died where you were anyway, by predator or exposure. And your sacrifice saves another." Then I cut its throat, ending its protest almost instantly.
It was messy, but I cut open the goats belly so I could remove its innards. I remembered Hannah's post about Prometheus and how he helped the humans trick Zeus in accepting the less desirable parts of an animal as a sacrifice. While I am no huntsman, used to gutting an animal, I have dissected my fair share in my time. There was no time for laboratory procedures of course.
The goats innards I placed on the makeshift pyre. Then I dumped the contents of several pepper packets on the sacrifice to symbolize spices. I considered adding salt as well but decided in this case it might not be well advised. I also poured on some rubbing alcohol from my first aid kit, hoping it would be a satisfactory substitute for sacramental wine.
Mr. Goodfellow hadn't deigned to notice the offering I had made.
Of course. He was a musician. His sacrifice should be made alongside the playing of instruments. I pulled out my keychain and regarded the whistle. It was technically a type of instrument and there was a certain irony at play here. I blew on it as hard as I could.
That got its attention. He looked over and saw the smoke. He seemed to sniff. He seemed to like what he smelled. Slowly, in what seemed to feel like hours but were probably only minutes, he started walking in my direction.
Not that I planned on sticking around. Still not sure where Hannah was, I started to circle around to the other side of the pond. That was when he oddly decided to adjust his course so he exited the pond and placed himself in my way. As he advanced, I was forced to retreat. Back to my makeshift altar and further, deeper into the wood.
It was clear by the way he moved that he knew roughly where I was. What's more, he was 'herding' me away from the pond. If I wanted him to take the bait of the sacrificial goat, I wouldn't be able to risk trying to move around him again.
So I took up a position some distance away where I could watch the scene unfold before me. As desperately afraid as I was for Hannah's safety, I will admit I was strongly curious about what was about to happen. How many people in the history of a world have witnessed a deity entity accept or deal with a sacrifice? Surely there must have been some in ages gone by but it still seemed... special.
He approached the flat rock and loomed over the burning pyre and goat remains. His face was serious and grim and for a moment I thought that it wouldn't work, that he would reject the sacrifice. Then he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, sucking in all the smoke into his lungs. A slow, almost reluctant smile spread over his lips, like an ex-smoker catching a whiff of their favourite brand of cigarette.
With his hand, he wafted the smoke up towards his face. As he wafted, the fire seemed to burn brighter and hotter. His smile continued to grow. How long had it been since he had last been indulged in this fashion? What exactly was it that I was witnessing here? What was the significance of it all?
Even with all these intriguing distractions, Hannah was foremost in my mind. Hoping that he was sufficiently distracted, I started to creep around the scene towards the pond once more. He subtly shifted his stance as though to move in the same direction and away from the altar.
"Bastard." I thought. "He's not going to let my by him. At least not until he's had his full."
I was right, too. He was a bastard. He also didn't let me manoeuvre around him. Instead he stood there inhaling the smoke until only ashes remained. Then he smiled in a contented way and pulled out his pipes. A melancholy tune filled the air as he walked away into the wood. By the time I made it to the pond, only the sounds of the forest remained to echo his song.
Desperately, I started to call out for Hannah. Given how much time had gone by, my only hope seemed to rest in her having hidden herself in the forest around the pond. If she had held herself under the water all this time... she would surely be... but I couldn't let myself think that. I could only hope and pray she was still alive, somewhere nearby.
There was a splash like the sound a rock makes when it skips over the water and I looked up from my task. Robin was no longer singing, and was in fact stepping out onto the pool, headed for its center. "Damn it." I thought. Maybe he had stumbled upon Hannah and flushed her out, forcing her into the pond. And now he was walking in after her. I could only hope she could hold her breath long enough. I had no idea how long she'd been under already.
Then something really caught my attention. He wasn't walking out into the water, he was walking on the surface of the water. "Really?" I thought to myself. "Too good to get a little wet? Congratulations. You're now exactly as holy as a spider that walks on water.
There was no time for prolonged mental sarcasm, however. I had work to do if I was going to draw that thing away and give Hannah a chance.
Grabbing the goat by the horns, I yanked its head back while it bleated its complaints at me. "I am truly sorry, but you would have died where you were anyway, by predator or exposure. And your sacrifice saves another." Then I cut its throat, ending its protest almost instantly.
It was messy, but I cut open the goats belly so I could remove its innards. I remembered Hannah's post about Prometheus and how he helped the humans trick Zeus in accepting the less desirable parts of an animal as a sacrifice. While I am no huntsman, used to gutting an animal, I have dissected my fair share in my time. There was no time for laboratory procedures of course.
The goats innards I placed on the makeshift pyre. Then I dumped the contents of several pepper packets on the sacrifice to symbolize spices. I considered adding salt as well but decided in this case it might not be well advised. I also poured on some rubbing alcohol from my first aid kit, hoping it would be a satisfactory substitute for sacramental wine.
Mr. Goodfellow hadn't deigned to notice the offering I had made.
Of course. He was a musician. His sacrifice should be made alongside the playing of instruments. I pulled out my keychain and regarded the whistle. It was technically a type of instrument and there was a certain irony at play here. I blew on it as hard as I could.
That got its attention. He looked over and saw the smoke. He seemed to sniff. He seemed to like what he smelled. Slowly, in what seemed to feel like hours but were probably only minutes, he started walking in my direction.
Not that I planned on sticking around. Still not sure where Hannah was, I started to circle around to the other side of the pond. That was when he oddly decided to adjust his course so he exited the pond and placed himself in my way. As he advanced, I was forced to retreat. Back to my makeshift altar and further, deeper into the wood.
It was clear by the way he moved that he knew roughly where I was. What's more, he was 'herding' me away from the pond. If I wanted him to take the bait of the sacrificial goat, I wouldn't be able to risk trying to move around him again.
So I took up a position some distance away where I could watch the scene unfold before me. As desperately afraid as I was for Hannah's safety, I will admit I was strongly curious about what was about to happen. How many people in the history of a world have witnessed a deity entity accept or deal with a sacrifice? Surely there must have been some in ages gone by but it still seemed... special.
He approached the flat rock and loomed over the burning pyre and goat remains. His face was serious and grim and for a moment I thought that it wouldn't work, that he would reject the sacrifice. Then he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, sucking in all the smoke into his lungs. A slow, almost reluctant smile spread over his lips, like an ex-smoker catching a whiff of their favourite brand of cigarette.
With his hand, he wafted the smoke up towards his face. As he wafted, the fire seemed to burn brighter and hotter. His smile continued to grow. How long had it been since he had last been indulged in this fashion? What exactly was it that I was witnessing here? What was the significance of it all?
Even with all these intriguing distractions, Hannah was foremost in my mind. Hoping that he was sufficiently distracted, I started to creep around the scene towards the pond once more. He subtly shifted his stance as though to move in the same direction and away from the altar.
"Bastard." I thought. "He's not going to let my by him. At least not until he's had his full."
I was right, too. He was a bastard. He also didn't let me manoeuvre around him. Instead he stood there inhaling the smoke until only ashes remained. Then he smiled in a contented way and pulled out his pipes. A melancholy tune filled the air as he walked away into the wood. By the time I made it to the pond, only the sounds of the forest remained to echo his song.
Desperately, I started to call out for Hannah. Given how much time had gone by, my only hope seemed to rest in her having hidden herself in the forest around the pond. If she had held herself under the water all this time... she would surely be... but I couldn't let myself think that. I could only hope and pray she was still alive, somewhere nearby.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
I have a list of things you should bring along with you for shotgun ammunition. If you want I can set you up with a couple of batches of all the above plus an extra load of iron in case you meet with him again.
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LostSeeker
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Wed Jun 27, 2012 12:43 am
- Location: On the run
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
You people lead interesting lives, that is for sure. Who is this Goodfellow punk? From what I have read, he seems to be a Fae being of some power.
Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth-Sherlock Holmes
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Cybermancer
- Posts: 1071
- Joined: Fri Jan 20, 2006 10:41 am
- Contact:
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
Ron Caliburn wrote:I have a list of things you should bring along with you for shotgun ammunition. If you want I can set you up with a couple of batches of all the above plus an extra load of iron in case you meet with him again.
Certainly. Any help you could provide would be appreciated.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robin_Goodfellow He might be just a punk indeed...LostSeeker wrote:You people lead interesting lives, that is for sure. Who is this Goodfellow punk? From what I have read, he seems to be a Fae being of some power.
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
The water around me suddenly felt different. It felt lighter, thinner. When I pushed gently with my hand to keep me in place however, it felt solid and unyielding, allowing me to easily hold myself under. Risking myself, I gave a soft exhale and was amazed that no bubbles escaped my mouth.
Encouraged I inhaled gently and felt my lungs expand with air.
The water had responded to my will. Allowing me access to the air dissolved within it. Further it shaped itself to my movements, allowing me to move as swift and easily as any fish.
In the exhilaration of my discovery I almost gave myself away. Instead I forced myself back down to the bottom and waited.
The splashing at the edge of the water had changed, now I was seeing ripples forming away from the edge. My vision wouldn’t penetrate the reflective film of the water above me, so I couldn’t tell what it was. The only thing visible was the brief imprint of a cloven hoof on the surface of the water at the center of each set of ripples.
Slowly they worked their way across the surface of the pound, closer and closer to where I was hiding. If it was something moving across the surface of the water and they got above me, they could easily see my light skin against the dark brown of the bottom. I needed something to hide under, and fast.
Glancing around I noticed a large log resting across some rocks. There was just enough space under that maybe I could . . .
One kick of my legs sent me rocketing across the bottom. So fast I almost zoomed past the log. I had to grab the log and pull myself underneath, hoping that my movement had gone unobserved.
The ripples moved to where I had been moments ago and waited there. Although my vision could not penetrate the surface, I could see the imprints above me as a cloven hoof tapped with impatience.
In a flash of silvery bubbles an impossibly long arm shot down through the water and began to feel around the rocks where I had hidden a few moments ago. For many long moments it searched for me among the rocks.
I did my best to lay still and hoped that my hair waving in the current didn’t give me away.
At last the arm withdrew back out of the water and the ripples made their way back to shore.
I didn’t want to risk that the source of the ripples was waiting on the shore, so instead I waited and I watched. I watched the shadows of the trees move across the bottom of the pond. I waited until they had stretched completely across the pond and the sky had become orange and yellow before I slowly eased myself toward the surface.
The water slid around me so smoothly there wasn’t even a ripple when I brought myself out to eye level and slowly surveyed the area. There was no sign of the singer, but I did see Matt frantically circling the pond. His clothes were splattered with blood and he was shouting my name as loud as he could despite already being quite hoarse.
I waved at him and called out from the middle of the pond. The look on his face at that moment . . . oh it was the sweetest mixture of joy and relief I had ever seen. He charged into the water to meet me halfway on my trip back to the shore. Embracing me and not letting me go until I had to towel off and pull on my clothes.
As we made our way back to the cabin I asked him “Did you get the power working yet?”
“Of course,” He said, then proceeded to explain the problem and how he had fixed it.
“Good, because I think we both need a hot shower and I could really go for a nice tea.”
Hannah
Encouraged I inhaled gently and felt my lungs expand with air.
The water had responded to my will. Allowing me access to the air dissolved within it. Further it shaped itself to my movements, allowing me to move as swift and easily as any fish.
In the exhilaration of my discovery I almost gave myself away. Instead I forced myself back down to the bottom and waited.
The splashing at the edge of the water had changed, now I was seeing ripples forming away from the edge. My vision wouldn’t penetrate the reflective film of the water above me, so I couldn’t tell what it was. The only thing visible was the brief imprint of a cloven hoof on the surface of the water at the center of each set of ripples.
Slowly they worked their way across the surface of the pound, closer and closer to where I was hiding. If it was something moving across the surface of the water and they got above me, they could easily see my light skin against the dark brown of the bottom. I needed something to hide under, and fast.
Glancing around I noticed a large log resting across some rocks. There was just enough space under that maybe I could . . .
One kick of my legs sent me rocketing across the bottom. So fast I almost zoomed past the log. I had to grab the log and pull myself underneath, hoping that my movement had gone unobserved.
The ripples moved to where I had been moments ago and waited there. Although my vision could not penetrate the surface, I could see the imprints above me as a cloven hoof tapped with impatience.
In a flash of silvery bubbles an impossibly long arm shot down through the water and began to feel around the rocks where I had hidden a few moments ago. For many long moments it searched for me among the rocks.
I did my best to lay still and hoped that my hair waving in the current didn’t give me away.
At last the arm withdrew back out of the water and the ripples made their way back to shore.
I didn’t want to risk that the source of the ripples was waiting on the shore, so instead I waited and I watched. I watched the shadows of the trees move across the bottom of the pond. I waited until they had stretched completely across the pond and the sky had become orange and yellow before I slowly eased myself toward the surface.
The water slid around me so smoothly there wasn’t even a ripple when I brought myself out to eye level and slowly surveyed the area. There was no sign of the singer, but I did see Matt frantically circling the pond. His clothes were splattered with blood and he was shouting my name as loud as he could despite already being quite hoarse.
I waved at him and called out from the middle of the pond. The look on his face at that moment . . . oh it was the sweetest mixture of joy and relief I had ever seen. He charged into the water to meet me halfway on my trip back to the shore. Embracing me and not letting me go until I had to towel off and pull on my clothes.
As we made our way back to the cabin I asked him “Did you get the power working yet?”
“Of course,” He said, then proceeded to explain the problem and how he had fixed it.
“Good, because I think we both need a hot shower and I could really go for a nice tea.”
Hannah
Last edited by Hannah on Wed Jul 11, 2012 8:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I will be who I chose to be.
When do logs sleep?
_____I’m glad the log decided to hug you, Hannah. He must have thought you were nice and wanted to help you even though he was very tired. That’s what I would do if I was a log. Maybe he helped hold your hair, too, Hannah.
_____P.S. Do logs sleep during afternoons?
_____P.S. again. Did the log like your swimming underwear? Do logs wear swimming underwear when they swim?
_____P.S., again, again. Did you say hi to Gruagach, Hannah?
_____P.S. Do logs sleep during afternoons?
_____P.S. again. Did the log like your swimming underwear? Do logs wear swimming underwear when they swim?
_____P.S., again, again. Did you say hi to Gruagach, Hannah?
When my dreams and visions help people, it’s not a burden, it’s a good thing.
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
Clarity,
you are awesome.
I'll explain it in person.
Hannah
you are awesome.
I'll explain it in person.
Hannah
I will be who I chose to be.
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
That's our Hannah. Worrying the heck out of anyone who loves her. 
All the while, finding a way to save herself. That's my girl! We don't need no one rescuing us!
All the while, finding a way to save herself. That's my girl! We don't need no one rescuing us!
Hi, I'm Darcy!
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."
-Oscar Wilde.
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Cybermancer
- Posts: 1071
- Joined: Fri Jan 20, 2006 10:41 am
- Contact:
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
It's true. Hannah didn't need me to rescue her. And no one is happier about that than I am. I just pray that if she ever does need me, I'm able to rise to the challenge.
This account used to belong to someone else. Now it's mine. My first post on this board begins here.
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
"The strong polish their fangs,
While the weak polish their wisdom."
Re: A Mid-Summer Afternooon's Swim
He was still pretty near me until you lured him away Matt. I'm not sure he would have left without that and I really didn't have any options left other than hide under the log.
So I'll happily give Matt the credit on this one.
Hannah
So I'll happily give Matt the credit on this one.
Hannah
I will be who I chose to be.
I told Hannah she should wear swimming underwear next time
_____Hannah explained to me what happened. And that she’s safe now. And why Mr. Robin was looking for her. It was very scary, although it probably wasn’t the water refracting the light that caused Mr. Robin’s arm to appear so long. Hannah smiled kind of funny when I asked if that was true. I don’t know why she did it, but I love when Hannah hugs me.
_____P.S. I still think the log was nice for hugging Hannah and letting her hide inside him, even though Gruagach wasn’t there.
_____P.S. I still think the log was nice for hugging Hannah and letting her hide inside him, even though Gruagach wasn’t there.
When my dreams and visions help people, it’s not a burden, it’s a good thing.
