[ Too much to hope for. There are exactly two blondes in the group, both of them are small and skeletal, looking malnourished and terrifying with their large blue eyes. They look nothing like a Morrison should. Aberrant, bearing the markings of another witch: the mad woman who had given birth to jackal Anubis.
The male stands behind his sister, clutching at her clothing with a deep and ferocious mistrust. It is clear he would jump at the magus if it were needed, it is even more clear that the female does not require his protection.
Hekate comes a little closer to Brendan, eyes heavy lidded and bored. And then she smiles, a relaxed expression that looks quite human. ]
Hello there.
[ Her voice has a pleasant gravel to it, and she does not press upon his space and sniff at him the way that Dinah had. This one seems to have a better understanding of human motions. ]
I'm Hekate [ Queen of magic with many faces. ] and this is Ivor.
[ His gaze darts here and there, tracking those who go, and returning like one of his feathery messengers to the two that remain. As they approach, he slides one shoe along the ground so that the carved sole leaves a strange mark on the path and he stands with his feet at shoulder width. A small and deliberate gesture that seems to encourage him to stay where he is rather than retreat further. A single mark won't protect him; it merely grounds the warding running through his coat lining, which in turn can only buy him time in the event of an attack. Best of all, obviously, would simply not to be attacked in the first place.
With that in mind, the incline of the head he gives to the pair is not that different from the one with which he took leave from Qetzi'ah, but imbued with more politeness than the uncomfortable weight of significance that deforms Qetzi's place in the House. This one pretends that all positions are clear, that everything is as it should be. It projects that he will be fine, that he temporarily belongs here. All notions and ideas that would most likely only amuse Dinah, if they made any impact at all. ]
Greetings, Hekate. Ivor. [ He stares guilelessly at Hekate, barely glancing at the man lurking behind her. Men are not masters in this house, Qetzi'ah said, and hyenas are matriarchal. ] A pleasure to meet you. I'm Brandon, Master Morrison's guest.
[ Which hardly needed to be said, but Hekate seems like she might tolerate human frivolities of speech. ]
[ None of the others remain, they leave behind them only kicked up dust and the smell of animals. It is almost more dangerous that they can no longer be seen amongst the trees.... Perhaps it would be wise to be inside the House before they return, giddy with gore. ]
[ Hekate crosses her arms across her chest, her smile quirking sideways in dull amusement. ]
Haran.
[ She dislikes referring to him as 'Master' herself, although not nearly so violently as Qetzi does. He does not rule her, in her mind, and apparently neither does Dinah. Neither she nor Ivor had hesitated even a little in rejecting the call of hunt. It would be wrong to call them uninterested in the meat, but... not beholden to it.
Hekate's eyes lower to the mark he's made in their dirt. She does not seem perturbed by it... Despite her name she does not work magicks well, it was not a skill they were trained in. They were lesser Morrisons, and they relied on different skills.
She shrugs off Ivor's clinging hands in the fabric of her worn shirt, beginning to circle the guest. It lacks the basic animal threat, as she stares upward at the reaching brambles of the forest overhead rather than at Brandon. ]
[ Of all of them, he does wonder that these two starved-looking waifs aren't the hungriest for the deer he brought, and in the back of his mind, he turns Hekate's very different mannerisms over and over without deep thought, the way he might with an old coin. He glances once to the side to follow Hekate's progress around him, then back to Ivor.
When he answers her, his voice is obscurely gentle, some odd inflection in it, aimed entirely at the male hyena. He hadn't dared try this on Dinah, and it doesn't seem any wiser to try it on Hekate. Yet he must start experimenting somewhere, and if he can see what effect his attempt to soothe Ivor has, that seems like the least dangerous option. It is a simple thing, an insinuating calmness, an effort to mitigate the aggression that awaits outlet before it finds any such excuse. ]
I'm from England. Wales, before that. I've come a long, long way.
[ Unnecessary words, simplistic construction, the tiniest bit of repetition, all subtle reinforcements of what he's trying to do. ]
[ Ivor is not as animated as his sister, and it is somewhat difficult to even tell whether he has such easy mannerisms as her, because he remains silent. When she had shrugged off his touch he had put his hands amiably into his pockets. His expression has not changed from the same heavy-browed and frowning distrust throughout all of this.
Even as Brandon's soothing voice touches his ears, the expression itself doesn't change, he gives what looks to be a confused or perhaps agitated little toss of his head, but stares so intently at Hekate as she walks circles around Brandon: an orbit that eventually brings her circling close to her brother again. ]
[ They are two pieces of a whole, these two. And the unspoken energy of Hekate's circuit is like a piece of silk, tied from brother to sister and winding around Brandon with its curiosity, soft and subtle and unrestrictive, but in a way it deflects Brandon's attentions: Ivor's moods and thoughts are Hekate's. Hekate's moods and thoughts are Ivor's. Like a maze of mirrors that only they truly know how to navigate.
Hekate hears the soothing tone of Brandon's voice, and rather than toss in uncertainty of what it implies, finds it somewhat pleasant and tilts her head to listen to it more closely. Her eyes fail to betray anything from beneath their heavy lids. ]
A long way, yes. [ she replies thoughtfully. ] We do not cross water.
[ While conversational, she is not verbose and always cryptic, at best. ]
[ That the first explicit exercise of power on the Morrison lands does not provoke hostility is a relief, and worth the danger to find out, he decides. The other signs are too ambiguous for him to intuit, though he simply supposes it isn't really working — not an uncommon result with normal people, let alone ... well, what would he call them? Creatures?
The conversation, such as it is, is quieter than he expected, or perhaps it's the comparative quiet of the surrounding woods that he's noticing. He's not sure how long the hyenas will take to catch the deer, and how long they will eat. He should remain alert, which is difficult in the face of Hekate's enigmatic presence. Brandon has trained so long and hard at pleasing people that it demands his attention. He keeps the vein of lassitude in his voice, no longer aiming it so much as attempting to maintain the calm mood. ]
[ With caution, Brandon tucks one of the messengers into his sleeve, leaving the other free to bet pet slowly. They are indifferent to such physical shows of affection, so it's merely like his verbal reinforcement of before. He would never dream of trying to pet actual hyenas, let alone hyenas in a humanoid form. The relaxed rhythm of his hand against their feathers is a mild projection. ]
You must be important to him.
[ Not an actual hypothesis of his. Her reaction, or Ivor's, to that statement might be informative, however. ]
[ He likes the look of Brandon's pet, the slow stroking motions. It leaves him discontent to remain where he is, and he crosses the gap between them to be back at Hekate's side. She wraps her arm around his shoulders without bothering to look down into his face. They are both an odd little paradox of weakness and will. Hekate's unbreakable belief in herself, bolstered by Ivor's unending devotion to her. She refuses to succumb to the clan, to the witches, to the House, the only place she will accept is at the crown.
And that is what makes her what she is: ]
We are Morrisons.
[ Ivor has a hoarse voice, dry and disused and tight. ]
[ Hekate's expression shows pleasure to hear Ivor assert himself, he was small and adoring, but she would not have kept him as her own if he could not show his teeth. In her youth, she had been forced to make up for her lack of size with her viciousness. All those years the two of them spent off the Hill have made them both smarter and wiser, above their animal beginnings. ]
[ The feathers shift under the pressure of his fingers, ruffle a little, settle again as he scratches. His eyes move between Ivor and Hekate, expression placid as he thinks. Haran evidently only counts Qetzi'ah and Tavor as his cousins; Qetzi'ah herself evinced little interest in the hyena's affairs. But here, as everywhere, there are gradations of power within every rank, hierarchies inside hierarchies.
He offers no dispute to Hekate's statement, which might make the purpose of his own preceding one obvious. ]
I came to give gifts to the Morrisons. I see that deer aren't to your liking.
[ Is it telling of him, to take on the additional burden of another gift when it is to two who appear weak and unregarded, but also different and clever? Will the others notice, would Dinah take offense? So it's not an outright offer, and echoes Hekate's oblique conversational tendencies. ]
[ Hekate raises an eyebrow, gauging him. Unlike Dinah, she sees and understands perfectly well what such a gift represents, and may just be interested in the bargain... If he can be useful to her. ]
When the House was full, there was trade from other lands.
[ Plucking up the thread from earlier, how he has come from far, far away. ]
[ This time, the lowered gaze comes with a hint of smile so that the show of humbleness is acknowledged as such, unlike his posturing toward Haran and Qetzi'ah. Thus he positions himself like them, nominally answerable to others above him, and like them, not as subservient as the position might call for. Brandon takes one step forward as well, leaving behind his mark in the path, but halting politely should Hekate and Ivor not wish him to draw close. He offers them the gently fidgeting bundle of feathers in his hands, seemingly to at least touch, perhaps to pet like he did if they wished.
There's no head, no easily discernible body shape. Just wings folded in complicated arrangements, some tucked tight, others twitching, one or two extending in a stretch. There is a seed of something dead buried deep inside, but still living flesh also, strange configurations of honeycomb-hollowed bone and small mechanisms. ]
Your feet don't have to leave the dirt, if you'd like to see other lands again.
[ Ivor sniffs at the thing in his grasp suspiciously, but then his curiosity gets the better of him and he slips from Hekate's arm, going down on one knee to look at the bundle of feathers at eye level. The mixed smell of death and magic does not disturb him, it is the smell of a life upon the Hill, and yet so subtly different... He extends the tip of one finger to tickle the golem's body, ruffling its feathers to watch the way it twitches in response.
His intense frown relaxes, replaced instead with a childlike peacefulness as he toys with the thing's reactions. ]
[ She watches her brother in silence, amused by his curiosity, but affectionately so. His hidden well of gentleness has always been the balance she needed when in the thrall of her ferocity. She does not take her eyes off of Ivor when she replies to Brandon, ]
That would be interesting.
[ Not precisely assent, but it is meaningful enough on a Hill that hears all. ]
[ The messenger ruffles and soothes just as it had under Brandon's hand, softer and less oily to the touch than the black and iridescent sheen would have suggested. If this were any other situation, if his own preferences were something to be indulged rather than ignored, Brandon would watch Ivor as well, not insensible to the fact that his earlier projection can be easily turned back on him.
But it is quite impossible to forget where he is and who he stands before, so it's Hekate he watches, and Hekate's plausibly deniable agreement at which he shuts his eyes and smiles. ]
Then it will take your mind's eye wherever you want to go, after it's accepted you.
[ Brandon makes both hands flat beneath the messenger so that it might easily be taken. What he says is mostly true; it will certainly do that, though it requires no such adjustment time. It will do whatever Brandon tells it, including passing on information about how Hekate and Ivor use it, if they choose to. ]
[ Ivor looks up at Hekate with an expression that clearly demonstrates his longing. He most certainly wants the thing, even if she might be wary of it. His pleading look is considered impassively, but then she nods, a tiny little motion. That's all he needs, Ivor reaches out and gently takes the gift, cradling it in against his chest with such pleasure.
Hekate's eyes flicker up to Brandon then, placid. She does not want him to think that she can manipulated through her brother, the look on her face is there to say that her concessions to him are never without thought. ]
We'll see.
[ No promises, no thank yous. She motions Ivor to get up and come to her, he does, still staring down at the faceless bundle of feathers he holds. ]
[ He only glances at Ivor, and then only at his hands and the care with which he holds the messenger, which is pleasing. It still might be dissected, broken, or destroyed in due course, but the same can be said of everything he brought to the Morrison House as well as himself. He accepted those dangers before coming.
(The messenger itself trembles and twitches, as it would no matter who was holding it. Its movement is only smooth when free to fly around.)
Returning his gaze to Hekate, Brandon's expression gives her nothing but gratitude and restrained interest, no acknowledgment at all of her unspoken point. The difference between ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist is both slight and important, the body language equivalent of I would never. He inclines his head to her and returns to his former spot to brush out the mark he made, the line of his shoulders relaxing. ]
Thank you. And keep it near to you while you sleep to let it grow accustomed. If you have any questions...
[ Brandon turns his hand palm up with a hint of irony as if to say I'm at your disposal, walking backward a step or two before turning to get back in the House. ]
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no subject
The male stands behind his sister, clutching at her clothing with a deep and ferocious mistrust. It is clear he would jump at the magus if it were needed, it is even more clear that the female does not require his protection.
Hekate comes a little closer to Brendan, eyes heavy lidded and bored. And then she smiles, a relaxed expression that looks quite human. ]
Hello there.
[ Her voice has a pleasant gravel to it, and she does not press upon his space and sniff at him the way that Dinah had. This one seems to have a better understanding of human motions. ]
I'm Hekate [ Queen of magic with many faces. ] and this is Ivor.
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With that in mind, the incline of the head he gives to the pair is not that different from the one with which he took leave from Qetzi'ah, but imbued with more politeness than the uncomfortable weight of significance that deforms Qetzi's place in the House. This one pretends that all positions are clear, that everything is as it should be. It projects that he will be fine, that he temporarily belongs here. All notions and ideas that would most likely only amuse Dinah, if they made any impact at all. ]
Greetings, Hekate. Ivor. [ He stares guilelessly at Hekate, barely glancing at the man lurking behind her. Men are not masters in this house, Qetzi'ah said, and hyenas are matriarchal. ] A pleasure to meet you. I'm Brandon, Master Morrison's guest.
[ Which hardly needed to be said, but Hekate seems like she might tolerate human frivolities of speech. ]
1 / 2
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Haran.
[ She dislikes referring to him as 'Master' herself, although not nearly so violently as Qetzi does. He does not rule her, in her mind, and apparently neither does Dinah. Neither she nor Ivor had hesitated even a little in rejecting the call of hunt. It would be wrong to call them uninterested in the meat, but... not beholden to it.
Hekate's eyes lower to the mark he's made in their dirt. She does not seem perturbed by it... Despite her name she does not work magicks well, it was not a skill they were trained in. They were lesser Morrisons, and they relied on different skills.
She shrugs off Ivor's clinging hands in the fabric of her worn shirt, beginning to circle the guest. It lacks the basic animal threat, as she stares upward at the reaching brambles of the forest overhead rather than at Brandon. ]
Where do you come from, Brandon?
[ She draws out his name, as if tasting it. ]
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[ Of all of them, he does wonder that these two starved-looking waifs aren't the hungriest for the deer he brought, and in the back of his mind, he turns Hekate's very different mannerisms over and over without deep thought, the way he might with an old coin. He glances once to the side to follow Hekate's progress around him, then back to Ivor.
When he answers her, his voice is obscurely gentle, some odd inflection in it, aimed entirely at the male hyena. He hadn't dared try this on Dinah, and it doesn't seem any wiser to try it on Hekate. Yet he must start experimenting somewhere, and if he can see what effect his attempt to soothe Ivor has, that seems like the least dangerous option. It is a simple thing, an insinuating calmness, an effort to mitigate the aggression that awaits outlet before it finds any such excuse. ]
I'm from England. Wales, before that. I've come a long, long way.
[ Unnecessary words, simplistic construction, the tiniest bit of repetition, all subtle reinforcements of what he's trying to do. ]
1 / 2
Even as Brandon's soothing voice touches his ears, the expression itself doesn't change, he gives what looks to be a confused or perhaps agitated little toss of his head, but stares so intently at Hekate as she walks circles around Brandon: an orbit that eventually brings her circling close to her brother again. ]
no subject
Hekate hears the soothing tone of Brandon's voice, and rather than toss in uncertainty of what it implies, finds it somewhat pleasant and tilts her head to listen to it more closely. Her eyes fail to betray anything from beneath their heavy lids. ]
A long way, yes. [ she replies thoughtfully. ] We do not cross water.
[ While conversational, she is not verbose and always cryptic, at best. ]
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The conversation, such as it is, is quieter than he expected, or perhaps it's the comparative quiet of the surrounding woods that he's noticing. He's not sure how long the hyenas will take to catch the deer, and how long they will eat. He should remain alert, which is difficult in the face of Hekate's enigmatic presence. Brandon has trained so long and hard at pleasing people that it demands his attention. He keeps the vein of lassitude in his voice, no longer aiming it so much as attempting to maintain the calm mood. ]
Would you ever want to?
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We have been and gone. We returned, because Haran asked it.
[ There is a shrug implied in her voice, she has traveled, and now she is here again to vie for the fate of the House, just like everyone else. ]
We would not be what we are if our feet could leave the dirt.
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You must be important to him.
[ Not an actual hypothesis of his. Her reaction, or Ivor's, to that statement might be informative, however. ]
And is this what you want to be?
1 / 2
And that is what makes her what she is: ]
We are Morrisons.
[ Ivor has a hoarse voice, dry and disused and tight. ]
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And no one is important to Haran.
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He offers no dispute to Hekate's statement, which might make the purpose of his own preceding one obvious. ]
I came to give gifts to the Morrisons. I see that deer aren't to your liking.
[ Is it telling of him, to take on the additional burden of another gift when it is to two who appear weak and unregarded, but also different and clever? Will the others notice, would Dinah take offense? So it's not an outright offer, and echoes Hekate's oblique conversational tendencies. ]
no subject
When the House was full, there was trade from other lands.
[ Plucking up the thread from earlier, how he has come from far, far away. ]
no subject
[ This time, the lowered gaze comes with a hint of smile so that the show of humbleness is acknowledged as such, unlike his posturing toward Haran and Qetzi'ah. Thus he positions himself like them, nominally answerable to others above him, and like them, not as subservient as the position might call for. Brandon takes one step forward as well, leaving behind his mark in the path, but halting politely should Hekate and Ivor not wish him to draw close. He offers them the gently fidgeting bundle of feathers in his hands, seemingly to at least touch, perhaps to pet like he did if they wished.
There's no head, no easily discernible body shape. Just wings folded in complicated arrangements, some tucked tight, others twitching, one or two extending in a stretch. There is a seed of something dead buried deep inside, but still living flesh also, strange configurations of honeycomb-hollowed bone and small mechanisms. ]
Your feet don't have to leave the dirt, if you'd like to see other lands again.
1 / 2
His intense frown relaxes, replaced instead with a childlike peacefulness as he toys with the thing's reactions. ]
no subject
That would be interesting.
[ Not precisely assent, but it is meaningful enough on a Hill that hears all. ]
no subject
But it is quite impossible to forget where he is and who he stands before, so it's Hekate he watches, and Hekate's plausibly deniable agreement at which he shuts his eyes and smiles. ]
Then it will take your mind's eye wherever you want to go, after it's accepted you.
[ Brandon makes both hands flat beneath the messenger so that it might easily be taken. What he says is mostly true; it will certainly do that, though it requires no such adjustment time. It will do whatever Brandon tells it, including passing on information about how Hekate and Ivor use it, if they choose to. ]
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Hekate's eyes flicker up to Brandon then, placid. She does not want him to think that she can manipulated through her brother, the look on her face is there to say that her concessions to him are never without thought. ]
We'll see.
[ No promises, no thank yous. She motions Ivor to get up and come to her, he does, still staring down at the faceless bundle of feathers he holds. ]
You should go now, guest. They return.
no subject
(The messenger itself trembles and twitches, as it would no matter who was holding it. Its movement is only smooth when free to fly around.)
Returning his gaze to Hekate, Brandon's expression gives her nothing but gratitude and restrained interest, no acknowledgment at all of her unspoken point. The difference between ignoring it and pretending it doesn't exist is both slight and important, the body language equivalent of I would never. He inclines his head to her and returns to his former spot to brush out the mark he made, the line of his shoulders relaxing. ]
Thank you. And keep it near to you while you sleep to let it grow accustomed. If you have any questions...
[ Brandon turns his hand palm up with a hint of irony as if to say I'm at your disposal, walking backward a step or two before turning to get back in the House. ]