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unfinishedlibrary2026-01-07 03:54 pm
steelfeathered) wrote in unfinishedlibrary2026-01-07 03:54 pm
in the glass cup, a liquid ruby
Who: Hisako and YOU
What: Scrying, or trying to look at what's happening in canon. She can only get still, frozen images or nothing, but she can get them of your canon if you cooperate!
When: Vague time!
Where: Garden
Content warnings: minor self-harm to a purpose (to use blood magic)
[Putting on airs for the heck of it, Hisako leaves this on a paper, painted with a brush on the bulletin board. She'll return and take it down after making her scrying effort.]
Attend my words, for this humble scribe is a sometime seer. Among my talents is to peer into another realm, even should the twain be sundered, and therefore discover what transpires in my absence. Only come to the garden and you may see this, should you behave. Behave well enough, and only ask, and I will help you see just what you are missing as well.
Those who fear the sight of skin and blood, and those who love them without restraint, are invited not to attend. On very good authority I have it that my skin is well enough, and that my blood is lacking.
- Your most lovely flapper, Hisako.
[If your character comes out to the garden, please come see this permissions post! They can cut in at any point in this process, I'll roll with it.
The preparations are simple. Hisako has brought a plastic bottle of store brand canola oil from the kitchen, and half filled a garden bucket with water - carried laboriously, shuffle-hopping, handle in her teeth - which are set to either side of a bench whose seat she hops atop. She half spreads her great gleaming wings in a theatrical gesture.]
This is the technical part! I will be very put out if you jostle me!
[Hisako pulls a wing in a bit closer and reaches out with her neck, and gives herself a shallow cut just below the hairline, wincing a little as she does. Her blood is silvery. All of the scars on her bare skin, most of them resembling knife cuts, are also silverish. A fist-sized blot of crimson light with bright gold highlights flies to batten on the fresh wound. She will look sharply at anyone approaching her during the 'technical part'.
Before long the blot draws away, leaving her bleeding sluggishly. She mantles her wings around it and it opens into a little bowl full of silver, then starts flattening and widening, spinning slowly in the air, until it's more like a dish. Hisako nods briskly.]
You, with the hands! Pour something in, won't you? It's going to be a small image if I don't thin this out.
[When she's satisfied, Hisako leans her head down on her long neck, her expression distant and intent, and breathes on the surface of the floating disk. The silver clouds over. She contorts a wing to tap a spur on the surface, and it clears to a still image of other Stormwings in flight - people like her, but their skins and feathers are much more dappled with dirt. She frowns and it clouds again. She taps it again and there is a still image of a white-eyed man talking to a tall bipedal lizard.]
Strange... Here, does this happen with you? Come here.
[When Hisako decides to stop, she realizes she's worn herself out. Reaching out like this takes much more strength than she'd expected. She pulls her wings back and sways on her feet, much too tired to take to the air. Nope, nope, no flock or friends here, she can't just show weakness! Clenching her feet, she runs the tip of her tongue between her upper lip and her teeth and summons up some bravado and a cheeky grin.]
Well, that was fun. Show's over, chickadees! Today's ripe fruit have all dropped off the vine and tomorrow's are too sour! Now scat, I'd rather clean up by myself.
What: Scrying, or trying to look at what's happening in canon. She can only get still, frozen images or nothing, but she can get them of your canon if you cooperate!
When: Vague time!
Where: Garden
Content warnings: minor self-harm to a purpose (to use blood magic)
[Putting on airs for the heck of it, Hisako leaves this on a paper, painted with a brush on the bulletin board. She'll return and take it down after making her scrying effort.]
Attend my words, for this humble scribe is a sometime seer. Among my talents is to peer into another realm, even should the twain be sundered, and therefore discover what transpires in my absence. Only come to the garden and you may see this, should you behave. Behave well enough, and only ask, and I will help you see just what you are missing as well.
Those who fear the sight of skin and blood, and those who love them without restraint, are invited not to attend. On very good authority I have it that my skin is well enough, and that my blood is lacking.
- Your most lovely flapper, Hisako.
[If your character comes out to the garden, please come see this permissions post! They can cut in at any point in this process, I'll roll with it.
The preparations are simple. Hisako has brought a plastic bottle of store brand canola oil from the kitchen, and half filled a garden bucket with water - carried laboriously, shuffle-hopping, handle in her teeth - which are set to either side of a bench whose seat she hops atop. She half spreads her great gleaming wings in a theatrical gesture.]
This is the technical part! I will be very put out if you jostle me!
[Hisako pulls a wing in a bit closer and reaches out with her neck, and gives herself a shallow cut just below the hairline, wincing a little as she does. Her blood is silvery. All of the scars on her bare skin, most of them resembling knife cuts, are also silverish. A fist-sized blot of crimson light with bright gold highlights flies to batten on the fresh wound. She will look sharply at anyone approaching her during the 'technical part'.
Before long the blot draws away, leaving her bleeding sluggishly. She mantles her wings around it and it opens into a little bowl full of silver, then starts flattening and widening, spinning slowly in the air, until it's more like a dish. Hisako nods briskly.]
You, with the hands! Pour something in, won't you? It's going to be a small image if I don't thin this out.
[When she's satisfied, Hisako leans her head down on her long neck, her expression distant and intent, and breathes on the surface of the floating disk. The silver clouds over. She contorts a wing to tap a spur on the surface, and it clears to a still image of other Stormwings in flight - people like her, but their skins and feathers are much more dappled with dirt. She frowns and it clouds again. She taps it again and there is a still image of a white-eyed man talking to a tall bipedal lizard.]
Strange... Here, does this happen with you? Come here.
[When Hisako decides to stop, she realizes she's worn herself out. Reaching out like this takes much more strength than she'd expected. She pulls her wings back and sways on her feet, much too tired to take to the air. Nope, nope, no flock or friends here, she can't just show weakness! Clenching her feet, she runs the tip of her tongue between her upper lip and her teeth and summons up some bravado and a cheeky grin.]
Well, that was fun. Show's over, chickadees! Today's ripe fruit have all dropped off the vine and tomorrow's are too sour! Now scat, I'd rather clean up by myself.
no subject
Hisako, hit with a wonderful bow wave that she's not sure how to pick apart and interpret, finds she's salivating hard and swallows, then tries to unobtrusively wipe drool onto her bare shoulder. It's already wet, she's really raised a sweat trying this. Sometimes she misses clothing.
She doesn't know how to interpret that image. Apparently it's bad. She wants to scold Sanguinius, like, "You should warn me if you want to look up something awful", but it seems a bad idea and honestly she's a little giddy, she's having to work to keep a straight face. This pleasure she's taking... the disconnect is kind of a lot. Hisako swallows again, pushes it to the side.]
Um. Let me pull that off you.
no subject
And he would never ask again. ]
I am so sorry. [Because she's clearly distressed. That's why she's shifting around so much. He has upset her, as well as himself. ] I meant...I had hoped....[He had hoped for hope, really. And this stings the worse because of it--hope annihilated, a fate beyond his ability to understand. ] How can I make it up to you?
no subject
Stone and water. The still lake that is her heart, and if strange fish swim in the depths, the surface doesn't stir. There she goes. Sober, concerned, but not mask-frozen.]
No, don't... don't worry about it. I was just startled. Not sure what I was expecting, just...
Youuu don't seem like you're doing great. Want to sit down?
no subject
[Because when you're down, why not set up a way to fall even further into despair, by asking questions you probably don't want the answers to? Sometimes hope is a thing in the interstices of knowledge, something killed by asking too much.]
I'm...fine. [The tight press of his wings against his back suggests otherwise.] It was. I had hoped for a better future for him.
no subject
[She wants him to stay here and keep doing that, she realizes. Being here, being able to feel this, it might be bad for her. She's not sadistic by nature, but nature can change.
Her Stormwing friends, when she'd been a little girl and then an older one, they had been feeding on her. She'd cried into Kyria's shoulder a time or two, ignoring the stink. They had still been her friends, they had still welcomed her company in the good times. There'd been that one individual who'd tease her past the point where it was fun, and was kicked out over it eventually.
If only there was someone she could talk to about this.]
I didn't look at the future. I don't, as a rule, it gives me a headache. I showed you the present, in some form. People are saying time passes differently here than elsewhere.
no subject
I wouldn't want to burden you. I have asked too much of you already. [Another flush of guilt, because he had seen the strain on her as she performed her sorcery. ] I need to repay you. Somehow.