video ; tuesday night (ic) / may 4 (ooc)

[sorcerous]

Bring me the materials I requested within the next day. I am where the mountain and the forest have overtaken the ruined craft.

The spell will be cast in two days.

Comments

[atwar]

Then where?

[sorcerous]

To say it where other ears my listen? To perhaps accomodate a sinister purpose that wants nothing of our escape or our power?

No.

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[atwar]

There. The channel is secure.

I would be there when you cast your spell.

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[sorcerous]

Of course you will.

I will bring you there myself. I will not speak of it here.

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[atwar]

Very well.

You are certain this will work? That we are both trapped here means Heimdall cannot hear or see us, or if he can then the Bifrost cannot reach us.

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[sorcerous]

Sif, I work with trinkets. I work with bits of bone and leaf, as I have not done since I was a boy. I have spent days searching for secret paths, places where the worlds are thin, and I have found nothing.

As great of a sorcerer I am, this is a hope near vain. All I have left to me is spoken word and shadow.

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[atwar]

[ Her initial instinct is to snap back; she reins that in. One of them needs to keep a cool temper, as difficult it is for Sif. That he expresses such doubt openly is far from reassuring. ]

I have your leaves, [ and she can't keep the twinge of annoyance from seeping into that word ] If you've need of anything else for your spell before I arrive or after, only say so and I will find it.

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[sorcerous]

[ he is not angry: he is desperate. He wants more than anything to get home. ]

I do. There is more. None here know the craft of darklight, and I only know so very little, but I believe I can distill the processes necessary. And I need something with a great deal of magic, something thin and flexible, something that has already shown a tendency towards dark.

[ He has tried to find an alternative, but -- ]

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[atwar]

Plainly, if you would.

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[sorcerous]

Your hair.

A lock of it, I think.

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[atwar]

My hair. Of course. [ It had been bright as sunlight once, the mark of great beauty in Asgard, until Loki had shorn it and turned it black. She'd been so furious with him then, though she's come to like the color since. It's another thing that sets her apart.

Of course he needs her hair. If they weren't caught in this tension and anger, if the situation weren't so desperate, she might be more amused. Instead she just sighs. ]

A small price to pay for the chance to return home. Should I cut it at the root?

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[sorcerous]

How we come back to the beginning...

Keep the strands as long as you can.

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[atwar]

Let us hope this trick doesn't end with your mouth sewn shut.

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[sorcerous]

Quickly, Sif. I have delayed enough already.

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[atwar]

You will have your leaves and my hair with all due haste.