10-04-2016, 12:33 PM
It was an hour later when Nihm finally arrived, and he'd find Will and Margot hard at work with a system in place-- Margot up on high with a short ladder they'd brought in the backseat of her car, trimming and pulling tangled vines and debris free from the house and fences of the plots, for with deft little fingers she was able to find and tug the knots and snarls so they would all fall loose without much struggle. They'd gotten to work not long after the old man had left them, and were on the third plot by now. Margot had sweat at her forehead and back and was thankful for the breeze when it kicked up.
There had been talk of magick, sure, but ultimately no rotes were carried out to make easier work of the monstrous lawnkeeping task ahead. Life ran the risk of killing everything or not spreading far enough to be worth it, and Margot did not want to summon spirits to do such menial work for her-- especially not ones that lived on Nihm's turf. Will had thoughts of his own but Margot then expressed worry about attracting the wrong attention with their resonances-- again, more concerned about the spirits that may come sniffing than anything else.
Ultimately they'd found themselves working with the hands they were born into the pattern with and little more. Margot was climbing down from the ladder while Nihm set up his lawn chair to survey them. She squinted at the juice boxes he'd brought along with him while wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, then shook her head and leaned down to pick up the water bottle she'd brought along with.
"Well," she said as she drizzled some of the water on her hand and then smoothed it over the top of her head. "We can only get done what we can in one day. If the work carries over, so be it." The hand then moved to gesture to the plots they'd cleared already. "Unless you were planning on planting all of them in one afternoon, there's at least some space to get started in the meantime while we finish."
Then the old recluse was clapping his hands and demanding answers. Three questions had been presented once upon a time ago, and now he was calling to collect the debt of knowledge. Pop quiz, kids, homework's due. Margot's heavy eyebrows hopped up on her forehead; her surprise reflected that of a student who'd forgotten to study for her test.
"Uhh," she said, and dropped her hands to pat at her pockets. "Shit," the curse muttered quietly, but then realization dawned and she crouched suddenly to start riffling around in her tote bag. "I've got it here," she explained, and after a few moments of rifling and rummaging she stood back up again with a piece of notebook paper that was torn loose from its rings and folded over into eighths. She unfolded and shook the paper out to read her penmenship and recall the train of thought she'd had when researching the evening following her first visit out to this place.
Her furrow of concentration and manner of holding the paper up near her face with both hands was a loud yet silent plea for William to take up the floor during the pause.
There had been talk of magick, sure, but ultimately no rotes were carried out to make easier work of the monstrous lawnkeeping task ahead. Life ran the risk of killing everything or not spreading far enough to be worth it, and Margot did not want to summon spirits to do such menial work for her-- especially not ones that lived on Nihm's turf. Will had thoughts of his own but Margot then expressed worry about attracting the wrong attention with their resonances-- again, more concerned about the spirits that may come sniffing than anything else.
Ultimately they'd found themselves working with the hands they were born into the pattern with and little more. Margot was climbing down from the ladder while Nihm set up his lawn chair to survey them. She squinted at the juice boxes he'd brought along with him while wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, then shook her head and leaned down to pick up the water bottle she'd brought along with.
"Well," she said as she drizzled some of the water on her hand and then smoothed it over the top of her head. "We can only get done what we can in one day. If the work carries over, so be it." The hand then moved to gesture to the plots they'd cleared already. "Unless you were planning on planting all of them in one afternoon, there's at least some space to get started in the meantime while we finish."
Then the old recluse was clapping his hands and demanding answers. Three questions had been presented once upon a time ago, and now he was calling to collect the debt of knowledge. Pop quiz, kids, homework's due. Margot's heavy eyebrows hopped up on her forehead; her surprise reflected that of a student who'd forgotten to study for her test.
"Uhh," she said, and dropped her hands to pat at her pockets. "Shit," the curse muttered quietly, but then realization dawned and she crouched suddenly to start riffling around in her tote bag. "I've got it here," she explained, and after a few moments of rifling and rummaging she stood back up again with a piece of notebook paper that was torn loose from its rings and folded over into eighths. She unfolded and shook the paper out to read her penmenship and recall the train of thought she'd had when researching the evening following her first visit out to this place.
Her furrow of concentration and manner of holding the paper up near her face with both hands was a loud yet silent plea for William to take up the floor during the pause.