Quoth The Raven [GM/Asiv/Asssignment]

["Wren"]

Rain in California was one of the greatest things in the world to Wren, even better when it was a veritable downpour.  With the smell of ozone high in her nose, the goth strode through the storm, sodden black hair hanging to her waist, darkclothes clinging to her willowy frame. Though her makeup was waterproof for just such an occasion, her eyeliner nonetheless ran little tears of soot down her pallid cheeks. Only her purse, leather and sealed tight, remained undrenched in the interior, ensuring her phone and sketchbook remained dry.

Shivering, Wren came upon the pier, where ahe decided to sit at an abandoned patio table at a closed cafe to watch the waves.


Zack Asiv

[Zack Asiv]

Wren would note the feather of a Raven. Black, pure, and not a single drop of this downpour of rain was able to strike it from the sky, flouting about in the air as if trying to get the girls attention before it was dragged away by some un-felt or unseen wind down the road.

["Wren"]

She had no idea how long she had been sitting, watching the waves churn and broil under the barrage of the storm, the wind shifting her sodden hair and clothes, when a spot of black appeared in her gaze. Her eyes landed upon it, watching the object --a feather-- float and dance through the air, unimpeded by the storm and the rain. Wren narrowed her eyes as she watched it flutter over the ocean, down, down, and then change direction, floating over her shoulder and back down the pier. In the opposite direction the wind was blowing in.

Interesting.

Curious (and because she happened to have a collection of raven feathers at home), Wren got up from her chair and began following the feather back down the boardwalk.

Zack Asiv

[Zack Asiv]

The feather would dance lightly allowing Wren to follow it at any chosen pace, until it fluttered over and stopped static in a single position. Before erupting in a small cloud of black feathers taking the amorphic form of a hunched over and cloaked individual.

"For I am hurt. Never more."

["Wren"]

Wren followed the feather down streets and through parks until she lost track of where she was. There was something about the feather that drew her mind to it. It was unusual, supernatural even, for it to be twirled about like an object on a string. Like Wren was some sort of cat following a toy.

Still, something about it felt right in a sense she could not identify. It was alien yet familiar, and though it made her wary, she knew she needed the answer.

That said, the goth girl was not expecting the sudden eruption of feathers, flinching back as a cloaked figure came into view. Slowly, she straightened, narrowing her dark eyes at the figure and adjusting the bag on her shoulder. The feather was a person and the person was quoting Poe at her. Almost as if it knew she would know that.

Wren stared at the creature/person in inquisitive silence, waiting for it to do...something.

Zack Asiv

[Zack Asiv]

The hood of the figure would turn as if to look directly at Wren, before a dark crimson ooze could be seen forming from the cloaked figure on the right shoulder it would seem.

"For I am injured."

["Wren"]

Her dark-lidded eyes widened slightly at the corners at the sight of deep blood, running in oozing rivulets from the figure's black clad shoulder.

Oh. It was hurt.

Wren glanced over her shoulder briefly, swallowing past the knot in her throat, thinking it to be some kind of trap. But no one seemed to be behind her. And the person was injured. The Goth faced forward again, frowning up at the hooded figure warily.

"I heard you the first time." she grumbled, approaching slowly to examine the persons(?) arm, trying to assess the wound.

[Zack Asiv]

Wren's hands would feel warm and begin to glow at touching the arm... Which would feel fluffy as if covered in feathers, however she would find a gash on the shoulder of the creature.

"Darkness there and nothing more."

Was it's response to her saying she had heard it. The voice seemed possibly feminine.

["Wren"]

Wren flinched.

She hadn't even realized she was following the cadence of the poem until one of the lines came floating back to her from under the hood of the person. Woman? She shook it from her head with a nearly imperceptible shudder and then turned her attention back to the wound.

Immediately, Wren retracted her hands, holding them up to her eyes at the warmth flooding them, the eerie glow that settled across her thin, bony digits. Her scowl deepened. Just when she thought she put the incident behind her, it came back to haunt her. It was incredibly taxing... and a little frightening. She did not want powers or abilities. What she wanted was to be left alone.

She looked back into the face of the hooded figure, searchingly. She... it? Was here for a reason. Had come to, chosen her, for some reason. The why was important. Was it more important than her safety?

So far, the figure had made no move to harm her. And the wound was ugly, deep. Somehow, the goth girl figured that going to the hospital was out of the question.

Slowly, tentatively, Wren reached out again and laid her hands on the person... creatures arm. Soft black feathers shifted beneath her fingers, sending a thrill up her spine. Strange. Weird. Unnatural.

Her dark brown eyes flicked again to where the face would have been if the hood were drawn down low. There was.. something involved with speaking to the creature."Tell me," she recited, pausing a moment to lick her black lips. "What thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore."

She thought she knew the answer, but that was part of this whole strange thing, was it not?

[Zack Asiv]

The hooded figure was darkness, a deep darkness where no light could reach. It 'looked' at Wren when she quoth the Poe, and the bleeding halted.

"On the morrow the Coyote will leave me, as my hopes have flown before... Nevermore."

The creature would burst into a torrent of black feathers engulfing Wren in a twirl of darkness, before vanishing completely and utterly. A necklace now did lay around Wren's neck with a single black raven feather hanging from it.

["Wren"]

As the energy drained from her fingertips and flowed into the creature's wound, Wren started to feel drained and weak. A little lightheaded, she sighed audibly in relief as she watched the wound heal over beneath her hands, and the glow from her hands faded. Same as last time, so it seemed.

The creature spoke again. There was just enough time for Wren to look mildly bewildered at the shadowed hood of the creature before it erupted into another cascade of black feathers. Startled, Wren took a step back, and stood there in the centre of the torrent as the feathers fell and floated around her. Once the storm had passed, Wren realized she was holding her breath. Letting out a long sigh, for all this weird ass bullshit had started when she enrolled at 259, and therefore, the school in it's entirety was to blame for all this shit, she turned to go, intent on forgetting about this entire thing. Which she would have, when a weight shifted along her collarbone. Thin, bony fingers lifted, immediately alighting on the feathered pendant that now hung around her neck.

Wren's eyes widened. That wasn't there before.

The last words of the creature flooded her mind. 'Coyote' was one. There were no coyotes in the poem. So... was the Raven (Lenore? Nevermore?) talking about someone else? Her heart hammering in her breast, Wren resisted the urge to pull out her phone --it was still raining, of course-- and started on a fast pace to Delilah's house.

[Zack Asiv]

next day

["Wren"]

She had made it to Delilah's house sodden and uncooperative in the face of the older woman's questions. A warm shower and a hot meal later, Wren kept her mouth shut about the incident, shrugging when asked about the new necklace around her neck and crashing on the mechanic's couch for the night. She stared vacantly at the ceiling until midnight came and went, and sleep claimed her.

The next morning, she went back up two houses to her own house. William was away at college, and her mom and dad away on one of their business trips, leaving her alone save for Delilah's promise to 'meet up with her' for lunch later that day. In the meantime, Wren sat at her kitchen table, dutifully working on homework and tugging idly at the necklace around her neck.

[Zack Asiv]

Wren would hear the jingle of bells like an echo in the distance, possibly light metal objects clanging together in rapid succession in small bursts in a rythm.

Ching-g-g-g..... Ching-g-g-g..... Ching-g-g-g

["Wren"]

At first, Wren didn't notice the chiming until she heard it between the pauses in the music from her phone. She hit pause and glanced up and around herself, listening. It might have been an interesting... doorbell? A ringtone, perhaps? That was unlikely. No one but Delilah had been over to her house over the last week, and she definitely didn't leave her phone behind. Maybe her mom?

Wren rose to her feet slowly, padding through the house in search of the noise.