Aurora on the airwaves pt 2 - Which Witch
Many witches concern themselves with their communities and what could harm them. Naturally major disasters pull in the witches of the area, but often minor ones pull in assistance of a cackling variety. That was not what surprised MS about this visit. As Mistress of stories, she knew much history on those of the gesture, of conversational magics and the often-most ladies who speak to the Well of Possibilities.
What she had not expected, dripping with an energy and posture that said ‘there is something cookey about me’ was Mrs Vesperine. Her mop of thick dark and tightly curled hair sits above a face full of sharp, birdlike angles. On her shoulder perches a large black corvid with rheumy eyes, and her outfit is that of a politician, a narrow purple corset, over a high collared vest that all sits on a rich purple skirt that covers her ankles. Long hooped earrings adorn her ears and a piercing lies on her lower lips, shining with lacquer.
“I heard you have a bird problem. Or a magic problem, depending on your point of view.” Her voice is perfunctory, as if coming down here was a hassle for her, even as she looks towards Nincho and her bird spirit form. She’s in some sort of mage robe today, though the tails of the robe keep getting caught in her claws, and so she is trying to pull them out with her beak when the witch had arrived.
MS, Silence, does her best to bring Vesperine’s attention back to her, and away from the spirit she is slowly calling reluctant friend. All around them are bindings and reports, notes from the research team and ideas sketched onto the walls of the apartment, even as an application for a new residence lies blinking on the Br1n Network terminal, its small bulbous note looking warm from how long it has been on and idle.
“We have a negative reaction between nocturnal migratory birds and the Br1n network ether lines as we are calling them.” Silence hardens her stance, slowly shifting herself between Nincho and Vesperine though the former seems not to notice and the latter seems not to care.
“And how long do you plan on trapping this spirit while you figure out the problem, instead of just terminating the radio? The world was fine without the radio before, it will be fine without it.” Vesperine seems testing her, and Silence is annoyed by that fact, as if the councilwoman could not just order such a thing from her desk. No, the witch had other reasons for coming down.
“Nincho is hardly trapped. They have chosen to stay near while the problem is still a problem and I am helping them overcome and adapt.” Silence shrugs, feeling the intimidating attitude of Vesperine’s apathy. She feels the need to check on the bird woman, who has returned to removing the robes from her talons, making a right mess of the hemlines. Nincho looks at Silence, giving wordless if not annoyed consent for her to keep speaking for her – Nincho would interject if she had something to say or correct.
She takes a deep breath, directing Vesperine’s attention towards a spread map, painted in circuit ink on greshire. Different bits and bobs are arranged across it, to act as markers when they set up their evidence. “The mages have been working so hard on all of this –“
“-I am aware-“
“leading them to believe that the light is just a byproduct. That the main thread leading between the towers is somehow a lack of magic, not an excess of it. With using a circuit to dull the threads of light that surround this lack, the mages were able to observe that it was this lack that was the cause, not the light.” Silence is talking way too much mage-talk, but the experimentation is burned into her brain by now, as are some of the solutions they have tried – all failures of course.
“Lovely work, but how will you deal with the fact that the paths of migratory birds have slowly begun warping themselves towards our glorious town since your friend has starts to habitat here?” Vesperine traces circles around the edge of the city map, over the swirls that represent the towers on the north edge of the city, down over the central causeway, to poke pointedly at the lower city. “Have you considered that the spirit of movement might have an effect should they settle down – oh voice of the people?” Vesperine is poking at Silence’s map as if all this is her fault, but with the epithet it almost points it back to both of Vesperine’s roles: city witch and Council Member.
Blue-purple feathers flare up from beside Nincho’s cheeks, forming almost alarmed ears of feathers, though exploration-prior had shown Silence that the spirit has no flesh in or around those hearing holes. Still, Nincho holds themselves back from speaking barely, their whole body a trembling stillness as the spirit seems to be battling between emotion and thought and finding her way to neither.
Silence moves back slightly, resting a hand on her knee with a slight grimace. Nincho leans towards the warmth and affection as those feathers slowly ruffle and flare before settling down among the sea of grey and brown feathers that make up most of her body. She does not move when Vesperine moves from the map, picking up a plumette from one of her donation baskets, blowing on it and giving its skin a rub – removing the fine fuzz until the rich purple skin beneath is unadorned. Silence’s fingers tighten lightly as Vesperine takes a bite, Nincho breaking her stillness to rest her own hand on the radio host’s shoulder for mutual support.
“It is something to think about.” Vesperine says, each bite exact, precise, delicate and wasting all the juice of the small fruit over the floor of Silence’s abode. The floor is thirsty and the juice wicks away, but the stain left behind is mark against her elected official.
“Is there anything else you wish to impart before you go?” Nincho brings up, voice soft and cutting through the background noise of the house breathing. Silence dare not look to Nincho, but is stunned by the brazen disrespect the spirit is willingly showing, she’s quite pleased at the support despite the shock, but her face morphs to sweetness and she slips into the role of radio host inside at the prompting.
“Oh nothing much, just that spirits impart their selves onto the world they live in, and that we might see soon what restless creatures might choose to fly should you stay here – either from curiosity or social connections made. Those of the wing were made to move.”
When she had gone, the women let out a communal sigh, Nincho chirping and preening her shoulder of loose feathers as they try to reclaim the space as their own again. “What even makes a spirit different from a creature from a child of Izdione?” If Silence was to believe in spirits – and with one being a growing friend, how could she not – then it makes sense that she must at least put partial stock in the other strange of the cosmos.
“Purpose mainly. I speak for those without voice and bring guidance to those in need of hands. I have met a spirit, more magic and energy than form who alerts the birds when the waters are still and should be flowing and a fish has come close to the surface, or the water is deep and smooth flowing and an animal thinks it safe to cross. It is the spirit of the running water and it is proud of how fast its part of the vast river flows.” Nincho plucks a particularly gnarly looking feather from her plumage, pulling her robe over the arm as she completes the task.
Silence slowly moves over to her fire-blossom, completing the circuit and letting it glow with heat. “Do you wish for tea, or just some water with honey?” She doesn’t have septum, or she’d use that, the taste much more to her palate, but for now trades have been a little light on.
Nincho has begun helping out with the trades lately, her help with the birds around the city attracting the Hawk Bachelor of the area with all the ailments and troubles that ecologists and conservationists cannot or will not fix. But Nincho has been patient and kind and more interested in the avian that the men bring her than pandering their feelings. And she’s seen so much success doing so.
Still, they are feeding two mouths and keeping the mages on side keeps draining their resources with little things that those from the Academy refuse to trade for themselves. Silence is too aware of how much failure is at risk should the mages decide to leave.
When Silence is done, she finds herself brooding over her tea as Nincho and their water and honey are staring out the open membrane at the city around them. They watch two Salit hopping from hanging vine to hanging vine, their fluffy green bodies like puffs of cloud as they traverse the city with joyful little chirps. “You should go on a journey. Take a week or a month and just visit the towns. Send word back along the Br1n that you’re ok and just experience things. Or go bush, that’s your choice too. Just… maybe she’s right and your purpose is driving everything stir-crazy.”
“The more I am here; the more I have felt more than my purpose. I’m gaining more likes than water and honey. I find myself thinking about people and things I know and enjoy and avoiding things I don’t. I do not think I want to give these things up, after we have discovered a solution to the ether lines.” Nincho reaches a hand out, cupping Silence by the wrist, a move similar to those made by close family members, deep friends and things more. Silence lets her, but still pushes the point.
“I’m not making you leave forever; I just think that if there is a chance she is right, that we should not risk hurting you or others by forcing you to stay.” Silence looks out at the city, there hasn’t even been time to show Nincho all her favourite spots in the city, too busy assuming the problem will be quick, and then needing to keep to schedule as much as possible. If she knew she’d gain a friend like them that she’d have to let fly free so soon she might have changed how she acted this entire time. But she could not risk Nincho, nor what she cared about.
“I’ll pack you a few things, for while you’re gone.” Silence finishes stepping from the window gnawing her bottom lip as she moves around the space, forgetting the tea in her hand. It would be many days before she remembered to have warm tea again.
What she had not expected, dripping with an energy and posture that said ‘there is something cookey about me’ was Mrs Vesperine. Her mop of thick dark and tightly curled hair sits above a face full of sharp, birdlike angles. On her shoulder perches a large black corvid with rheumy eyes, and her outfit is that of a politician, a narrow purple corset, over a high collared vest that all sits on a rich purple skirt that covers her ankles. Long hooped earrings adorn her ears and a piercing lies on her lower lips, shining with lacquer.
“I heard you have a bird problem. Or a magic problem, depending on your point of view.” Her voice is perfunctory, as if coming down here was a hassle for her, even as she looks towards Nincho and her bird spirit form. She’s in some sort of mage robe today, though the tails of the robe keep getting caught in her claws, and so she is trying to pull them out with her beak when the witch had arrived.
MS, Silence, does her best to bring Vesperine’s attention back to her, and away from the spirit she is slowly calling reluctant friend. All around them are bindings and reports, notes from the research team and ideas sketched onto the walls of the apartment, even as an application for a new residence lies blinking on the Br1n Network terminal, its small bulbous note looking warm from how long it has been on and idle.
“We have a negative reaction between nocturnal migratory birds and the Br1n network ether lines as we are calling them.” Silence hardens her stance, slowly shifting herself between Nincho and Vesperine though the former seems not to notice and the latter seems not to care.
“And how long do you plan on trapping this spirit while you figure out the problem, instead of just terminating the radio? The world was fine without the radio before, it will be fine without it.” Vesperine seems testing her, and Silence is annoyed by that fact, as if the councilwoman could not just order such a thing from her desk. No, the witch had other reasons for coming down.
“Nincho is hardly trapped. They have chosen to stay near while the problem is still a problem and I am helping them overcome and adapt.” Silence shrugs, feeling the intimidating attitude of Vesperine’s apathy. She feels the need to check on the bird woman, who has returned to removing the robes from her talons, making a right mess of the hemlines. Nincho looks at Silence, giving wordless if not annoyed consent for her to keep speaking for her – Nincho would interject if she had something to say or correct.
She takes a deep breath, directing Vesperine’s attention towards a spread map, painted in circuit ink on greshire. Different bits and bobs are arranged across it, to act as markers when they set up their evidence. “The mages have been working so hard on all of this –“
“-I am aware-“
“leading them to believe that the light is just a byproduct. That the main thread leading between the towers is somehow a lack of magic, not an excess of it. With using a circuit to dull the threads of light that surround this lack, the mages were able to observe that it was this lack that was the cause, not the light.” Silence is talking way too much mage-talk, but the experimentation is burned into her brain by now, as are some of the solutions they have tried – all failures of course.
“Lovely work, but how will you deal with the fact that the paths of migratory birds have slowly begun warping themselves towards our glorious town since your friend has starts to habitat here?” Vesperine traces circles around the edge of the city map, over the swirls that represent the towers on the north edge of the city, down over the central causeway, to poke pointedly at the lower city. “Have you considered that the spirit of movement might have an effect should they settle down – oh voice of the people?” Vesperine is poking at Silence’s map as if all this is her fault, but with the epithet it almost points it back to both of Vesperine’s roles: city witch and Council Member.
Blue-purple feathers flare up from beside Nincho’s cheeks, forming almost alarmed ears of feathers, though exploration-prior had shown Silence that the spirit has no flesh in or around those hearing holes. Still, Nincho holds themselves back from speaking barely, their whole body a trembling stillness as the spirit seems to be battling between emotion and thought and finding her way to neither.
Silence moves back slightly, resting a hand on her knee with a slight grimace. Nincho leans towards the warmth and affection as those feathers slowly ruffle and flare before settling down among the sea of grey and brown feathers that make up most of her body. She does not move when Vesperine moves from the map, picking up a plumette from one of her donation baskets, blowing on it and giving its skin a rub – removing the fine fuzz until the rich purple skin beneath is unadorned. Silence’s fingers tighten lightly as Vesperine takes a bite, Nincho breaking her stillness to rest her own hand on the radio host’s shoulder for mutual support.
“It is something to think about.” Vesperine says, each bite exact, precise, delicate and wasting all the juice of the small fruit over the floor of Silence’s abode. The floor is thirsty and the juice wicks away, but the stain left behind is mark against her elected official.
“Is there anything else you wish to impart before you go?” Nincho brings up, voice soft and cutting through the background noise of the house breathing. Silence dare not look to Nincho, but is stunned by the brazen disrespect the spirit is willingly showing, she’s quite pleased at the support despite the shock, but her face morphs to sweetness and she slips into the role of radio host inside at the prompting.
“Oh nothing much, just that spirits impart their selves onto the world they live in, and that we might see soon what restless creatures might choose to fly should you stay here – either from curiosity or social connections made. Those of the wing were made to move.”
When she had gone, the women let out a communal sigh, Nincho chirping and preening her shoulder of loose feathers as they try to reclaim the space as their own again. “What even makes a spirit different from a creature from a child of Izdione?” If Silence was to believe in spirits – and with one being a growing friend, how could she not – then it makes sense that she must at least put partial stock in the other strange of the cosmos.
“Purpose mainly. I speak for those without voice and bring guidance to those in need of hands. I have met a spirit, more magic and energy than form who alerts the birds when the waters are still and should be flowing and a fish has come close to the surface, or the water is deep and smooth flowing and an animal thinks it safe to cross. It is the spirit of the running water and it is proud of how fast its part of the vast river flows.” Nincho plucks a particularly gnarly looking feather from her plumage, pulling her robe over the arm as she completes the task.
Silence slowly moves over to her fire-blossom, completing the circuit and letting it glow with heat. “Do you wish for tea, or just some water with honey?” She doesn’t have septum, or she’d use that, the taste much more to her palate, but for now trades have been a little light on.
Nincho has begun helping out with the trades lately, her help with the birds around the city attracting the Hawk Bachelor of the area with all the ailments and troubles that ecologists and conservationists cannot or will not fix. But Nincho has been patient and kind and more interested in the avian that the men bring her than pandering their feelings. And she’s seen so much success doing so.
Still, they are feeding two mouths and keeping the mages on side keeps draining their resources with little things that those from the Academy refuse to trade for themselves. Silence is too aware of how much failure is at risk should the mages decide to leave.
When Silence is done, she finds herself brooding over her tea as Nincho and their water and honey are staring out the open membrane at the city around them. They watch two Salit hopping from hanging vine to hanging vine, their fluffy green bodies like puffs of cloud as they traverse the city with joyful little chirps. “You should go on a journey. Take a week or a month and just visit the towns. Send word back along the Br1n that you’re ok and just experience things. Or go bush, that’s your choice too. Just… maybe she’s right and your purpose is driving everything stir-crazy.”
“The more I am here; the more I have felt more than my purpose. I’m gaining more likes than water and honey. I find myself thinking about people and things I know and enjoy and avoiding things I don’t. I do not think I want to give these things up, after we have discovered a solution to the ether lines.” Nincho reaches a hand out, cupping Silence by the wrist, a move similar to those made by close family members, deep friends and things more. Silence lets her, but still pushes the point.
“I’m not making you leave forever; I just think that if there is a chance she is right, that we should not risk hurting you or others by forcing you to stay.” Silence looks out at the city, there hasn’t even been time to show Nincho all her favourite spots in the city, too busy assuming the problem will be quick, and then needing to keep to schedule as much as possible. If she knew she’d gain a friend like them that she’d have to let fly free so soon she might have changed how she acted this entire time. But she could not risk Nincho, nor what she cared about.
“I’ll pack you a few things, for while you’re gone.” Silence finishes stepping from the window gnawing her bottom lip as she moves around the space, forgetting the tea in her hand. It would be many days before she remembered to have warm tea again.
Thank you for reading, feel free to give feedback.
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