Visitor [attn: Andrew, Syll, Kenna]
Early March.

Arianna is at that coffee shop she likes so much. Nicholas is supposed to work late and maybe go out for drinks with his coworkers afterward.

Pen closes the door to the bedroom anyway, and it does not have a lock (yet), but her hand lingers on the door knob as if she would lock it if she could, as if she is used to doors that because of wood-warp and weather-change will pop open again if not closed just so. Most of the instruments of her Art, those which are not inherent, those which are not for carrying, are in her study or the workroom in the cellar (the chthonic room, she calls it), but what she wants to use for this spell happens to be in the bedroom.

Behind the chest of drawers there is a circular mirror, kept covered, and Penelope takes it out of its dusty niche and pulls the covering from it. The mirror is clear and ready to be bright, just give it some light, just give it something luminous to drink, just let it be a mirror; right now, it reflects her at an angle, cutting her pale and burnished atmosphere Rossetti rather than Waterhouse and whole-cloth from the dusky gloom of the bedroom with the lights off.

The instruments she needs for this particular rote is the mirror, a piece of chalk (special chalk, hand-crafted, the pigment mixed with metal dust from the Chthonic Room), and her voice. But she also uses a wand to channel the energies necessary, ravel them up feel them under her hand, and she has a lock of dark brown hair, a True Name --

And so, rather than a text message or his cell phone going off, somewhere that is not in Denver, one of the Verbenae can feel Daring Ardence, Resplendent (ah!) in the air around him.


Thane Owens was in the backyard, doing yardwork. The ground around him has a frozen, blighted look, but there is a willow tree the willow's whips turning yellow already, and there's not a hint of snow. Warm winter, nothing like last year's. He is sweating. He is messy. And when his Awareness goes off, he blinkblinkblinks long-lashed brown eyes, and plops himself down on the edge of the rackety porch.

He has a smaller cousin to the mirror in Pen and Nick's room hanging around his chest. It doesn't always hang there, but fortunately it does today.

The conversation which follows (voices given over to sorcery; not Here, instead There) goes something like:

-- Hello Pen!! Shame you didn't scry earlier, I helped deliver a foal poor thing was in a caul how is that for a sign what can I do for you you sound happy is that just because you can hear my voice or is it because you're not using your cell phone and inviting Quiet to roost on your shoulders though it's good you did I dropped mine in the afterbirth and haven't cleaned it yet or left it somewhere to dry I can't quite remember I miss you two very much is Nicholas around tell him I say hello
-- Thane, what if you told him hello in person?


-- I'm staying with

-- No no, not like that. But I was hoping you'd come visit me, us, Ari too, and sooner rather than later. I told somebody here you might come and talk to her about your Tradition. I think she could use some perspective on it, other than Andrés's -- do you remember Hinata? Yes! Her Aetherite husband -- anyway, other than his, and her own assumptions and feelings, which... I do believe her spirit cants hard in that direction, and there is someone here who can talk to her, but it's always nice to have more than one representative, and --

-- I'll come after the Equinox. Let's trick Nick and Ari though don't say a word.

-- … Yes, okay. Yes! I will tell neither of them. I mean, I will try.


End of March, Early April.
Denver Airport.

Pen meets Thane (Ghaith: dumb security guards just got done feeling him up because of his name and his look) by the luggage claim. Thane (in spite of the dumb security guards, one of whom might need to be worried about a run of bad luck later on in the day) instantly grins wraps his friend in a big bear hug Thane likes hugs he likes hugs better than a lot of things they are up there and he feels like animal warmth and there's a sparkle in his eye and after they have hughughugged Thane looks Pen in the eye and even though she is alone he says:

'They know don't they?'

'Yeah,' Pen says, a clot of quietude and abashment.

'Aw Pen what about the surprise how did they get it out of you?' He is feigning more distress than he feels.

'He- I mean they, it was just- no, you see what it was, it was like- the day was a day, and then the day became the night, and Nick and me- '

'Ohhhhh at niiiiight I see.'

Pen's Eloquence: Not always on.

'No not- hmm, well after the night, I mean the day that is- '

'Basically he looked at you and you spilled everything,' Thane says, with a grin.

'No, no no,' Pen says, 'it took a while. A day. I don't, I mean only once or twice, I keep things unmentioned all the time, it's just well regardless they do not know you are coming tonight. They just know you're coming. It will still be half a surprise.'

And so comes a visitor to the House of Hyde and Mars, and perhaps Arianna's Home if she offers her couch.


OOC: and lo a Verbena NPC as promised, for a little while! He'll probably stay just for a week, but we'll move the week to an Appropriate to Getting some RP in week. (grin)

[Corr 2/Forces 2. Vulgar w/ out witnesses. -1 Taking Time. -1 Sympathetic Magick. -1 Personal Instrument. Threshold: 1 (for Effect) + 2 (for Distance) +1 (Duraction).] Diff 6-2 = 4.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN3 (2, 3, 3) ( success x 2 )
[Extend. +1 diff.]
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (2, 5, 10) ( success x 2 )
[Wait, state your name?]
[Syll. And I approve of this advert? Wink]
Once Nick knows, it is only a matter of time before Arianna finds out, too.  Not that Thane is here, no, no, this is earlier than that, but that Thane is coming.   It is probably in the middle of some important and very Hermetic conversation; something regarding the tipping point of the balance of light and darkness, or the aspects of Aries as fire overtakes the fish (swish swish [goodbye Pisces] ).  It is probably in the middle of a conversation they know so well and have tread so many times that the next words (waves to Wands [ wave goodbye to Water] ) are queued and readied when Pen, who is like glass, who is like lake light, who is splendid and resplendent and occasionally quite good with secrets, drops this, pebble in a pond, just to watch the ripples and ...


"Thane is...?" As if she hadn't quite heard. Repeated for confirmation. Repeated just because it is close to the time of April and Fools.  And then, as if the pause and silence that lingers between them for only half a heartbeat is sufficient to stand as confirmation, her smile splits wide and there is revelry to her eyes, and she laughs, a little pleased and happy thing, laughs and claps her hands together, pleased. So pleased.  "Thane is coming to visit!"

And then? The tumble of questions, most left unanswered, and some sort of making of half-baked and unlikely plans, and then back, of course, to the importance of thresholds even in such broad a sense as Seasons--as time is the greatest of the unmarked and measured circles, surely, is it not?--and Time waits for no man (save those with mastery of Ars Temporis ), but always with the underlying joy that Thane is coming, as Spring is coming; that he will be returned to them, on loan for a moment, just borrowed from his farms and fields and groves (both indoors and out ).

So yes. She knows.  She knows that he is coming; knows enough to make ready a guest room, to keep it on notice, to have it staged to deploy at any moment.  But she doesn't know he is coming now.  Does not know he has landed at the airport, and weathered the ungracious security; that Thane is imminent.  On this, she is still mired in darkness.

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