crushed_pearls | Come Sail Away IC Inbox

"It's only magpies where one is for sorrow, isn't it?" he asks, gaze still laser-focused on the brooch.

"I finally received a gift in the mail. This- and something else far less..." he unlaces his fingers to gesture at it.

"It's the real McCoy. I am... uncertain if it was intended for me. But if not for me, then who?"

"...It's a heavy vow," Erin murmurs. "Though I hesitate to compare the two, the Blackbirds are more selfless than even a joyeux, and they sacrifice a lot for it. And praise be that they do, for who else could take their work up among the Lost? But...we're all of four of us here. I have to wonder if you're being asked to mind such a small flock, or if the ship itself would be your see."

Ossie taps lightly on a bandage around his pinkie, in the same manner as one might fiddle with a wedding ring.

"The Wyrd knows there's plenty aboard who could use a listening ear," and it's more than just an oath, "so many people with aches and agonies to ease..."

Then, quieter, "I wish Queen Holle were here."

"I'm sorry that it's just me." Erin leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "...Walk me through your thoughts? You seem to be of more than one mind, if you don't mind me being so forward with my observation here."

Ossie's quiet for a few long moments, barely even blinking at the brooch.

"I've met the Blackbird Bishops in my own world. All of them generous beyond measure, kind... and talented at soothing people. I'm... not that. I'm afraid I've fouled up as many attempts to comfort as I've succeeded, and even that's likely a generous estimation in my favour. I fear I'd sully their good name."

Erin takes a deep breath, understanding stealing over her like the night. Echoes of things others said to her, talking about the youngbloods aboard in particular, roll through her thoughts. Erin opens her mouth to repeat them, and then shuts it with a thoughtful expression.

"...You didn't ask me here as your peer in Spring. You asked me here as someone who's been in their care - some of the Blackbirds' most intensive care, not to lapse into habits of being my own enemy. Am I near the mark, Ossie?"

"If it were only a question of Spring philosophy, there are others I could ask. I wager Johnny or Phil would have just as many thoughts on the subject. But if I were to take up this mantle, you would very likely fall under my responsibility. And if not you, then certainly others."

...

"And I'm not sure if I'd look good in feathers."

"Ossie, please. I don't even have to assure you that you personally look good in feathers, all things living and dead look good in feathers. Humanity being deprived of feathers is a great crime against us."

Erin's ears twitch as she thinks, and remembers.

"...Back home, our Autumn had just gone through a major change. King Raven had ruled since the foundation of the Freehold, and was the only surviving founder. He had been the single, constant figure in New Avalon, and yet he was pushing a hundred and fifteen, due to bring his grievances to God any day. And I remember...it's not that the Blackbirds at home gossiped, you understand. But at times Princess Morris, later to become the Queen of Bonfires, would come in to talk to the Bishops, and it always seemed to end in shouting matches about her choice of Court. I remember the day after her coronation she came in with enough pizza to feed an army, told everyone to step the fuck outside the homeless shelter the Bishopric ran, stopped to pray to God for mercy - she was Catholic, you understand - and went in to face the music. And we still heard the shouting."

"From across the street."

Erin's gaining confidence in her own thought process as she finishes up by asking: "What would really change about what you're already doing, if you take up the pendant and the feathered robe?"

"I'm not sure I quite grasp the relevance," Ossie admits, feeling altogether stupid and sorry for himself. As he has been since he got the brooch and couldn't bring himself to put it on.

"There'd be the expectation for me to be any bloody good at it," he sighs, drumming his fingers on the table, "that it wouldn't just... be well-meaning attempts at keeping the people of this ship together. The Wyrd would be watching me."

"My point is, the Blackbirds are still just people - still Lost people, at that. They make mistakes, they have biases. Queen Morris wasn't gonna hear that joining Autumn was bad for her health and despite fighting like cats and dogs about it she went back to them because they were good enough, not because they were perfect. To be a Bishop is to offer clarity, and you do. It's to strive, and, y'know, you do. If you didn't have skin in the game you wouldn't lose it every now and again the way you're complaining of."

Erin leans forward and, gently, picks the pendant up in her fingertips. Offers it out to Ossie.

"The perfect person isn't going to show up here. You did. Is our community better without any Blackbirds, or with the one you might be?"

Ossie takes the brooch, turning it over in his hand.

"I'm not making any decision without talking to Giles first. But thank you, your insight is appreciated, and pertinent as I expected it would be."

He slips it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, where it clinks softly against his cigarette case.

"Now that ruddy business is sorted, would you care to see the other present I got in the mail?"

"Provided it's not an Excalibur I'd be delighted."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know what to do with it if I did," he jokes back.

Ossie leans back on the couch, crosses his legs, and wipes a hand down his face. When his hand moves, his face- and the rest of him- looks just a tad different.

"Abracadabra."

There is.

A long.

Silence.

In a strangled voice: "Well. I'd say this. Better not awaken anything in me. But. It sure did."

Ossie laughs, tossing his head. His hair, even longer, still settles perfectly around his face.

"I am still very much a man, I should say," he traces a finger down the lapel of his suit, "but I've never been much of a conventional man. It's nice to have a little bit more freedom in my presentation."

"I'm glad to hear it!" Is that about him still being a man or his new gift? Good question! "Though it does ask some practical questions about how you might choose to use it. I get away with some light shapeshifting because I've not bothered to hide it, but, well -" Erin gestures at the door to the cabin. "You're a bit more reserved."

"Mm, I've no intentions of deceiving anyone intentionally with it," he toys with his hair, "but it seems a pity not to get to play with it a bit, wot. One of the things I miss about the world outside our fine vessel was the chance to be a perfect stranger for people. I find increasingly I'm excellent at first impressions and terrible at anything past that," he chuckles.

"Still, there are people who know what I am, and I do intend on entertaining them with this."

There's a scent of harebells in the air as he considers flustering one of his gentleman friends with this form... please hold, Ossie can't come to the phone right this moment.

"I've already teased Crabb with getting ravished by herself but evil, I'm there with you."

God Erin hopes she's into that because Erin sure is.

[ tear sits centre stage, illuminated from above by a solitary stage light.
her fingers gently tug and pull on the strings of a harp, carefully pulling the notes of a
new melody out into the bellona.
she can occasionally be heard re-adjusting the notes, going back and replaying sections of
the melody until it sounds right to her.

when erin arrives, tear isn't quick to stop even when she hears erin's steps growing nearer.
her touch only slows on the strings as her friend makes her way up the stairs. ]

Erin.

[ there would normally be a breath of relief, of happiness, to that name -- but this
night there is only a tone of calm acknowledgement.

as promised, she was continuing to show up for their music 'lessons';
however, there was something she couldn't easily put to rest between them,
and she fidgets with the harp for one final note before drawing away from it.

tear had never been very good at beating around the bush, but even she isn't
sure of how to begin their conversation tonight. there had been so many variables
she'd been considering --

but jumping right into it may not be the most tactful thing to do. ]

... Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure if you were going to make it tonight.

[ it was an honest thought, given everything that had gone on: the
captain's comment, the one tear had spent so much time thinking about,
had clearly been upsetting to erin. she wouldn't have blamed her if she'd needed
time to herself. ]

"You would have gotten a message at least. I'm not gonna stand you up, Tear." Erin's voice is soft; she knows full well how it could carry in this theater, and this...this business is about to be personal. Tear hadn't gone to Tauva, no, but she was there at the game show.

She heard.

Erin steps softly up onto the stage and settles down to just sit on it. After the entire day before in a chair, she craves the comfort of floor time.

"...I kinda figured the smoking lounge might not have been your scene. You holdin' up?"

A mad grin crosses his face as the idea of fucking Giles as himself enters the halls of his mind and makes off with the silverware.

"Please, forgive me, but I believe I have to attend to something with Giles rather urgently. Do come by again later?"

her lips curve into a smile, reflexive of erin's concerns -- of erin knowing her so well.
it was a small thing, but it demonstrated to tear how close they'd already gotten somehow.

she says nothing as her friend seats herself on the floor, hands coming to rest primly on her lap
as she watches, waiting the space of a breath.

" I'm alright. A little apprehensive about what the captain will do next, but alright. "

their last 'event' with him, the game he'd orchestrated with the art pieces, had ended far too peacefully
as far as she's concerned. it was something to be thankful for, but very suspicious given the information
everyone had been sharing about him ...

" How did it go in the lounge? "

she keeps her tone cool and even, but she's curious.

"Better than I could have dreamed, frankly. Hard. It...was hard, but." Erin sighs. "...That said I doubt it's all over. Among other things I met Colonel Curtiss before it all went down at the game show. He was very protective of you, which warms my heart, but...well, he didn't show at Tauva. I suppose we'll see if he chooses violence or not."

Erin's fingers go digging in her velvet coin purse, and she gets out a nickel, which she walks over her knuckles.

"...I didn't know you played the harp. That song was beautiful. Melancholy."

Still circling the larger point. Erin's...not sure how much to tell Tear. After what hearing her story did to Phil she's so much less confident about sharing every last detail.

Tear's been through enough.

"Absolutely!" Erin slaps her knees in the traditional American Getting Up From Their Seat gesture, tips Ossie a bow, and then flees as politely as possible so she can scrub her mind clean of the ideas it's gotten.

" You met the Colonel? "

her eyes grow round with wonder at that, her stoicism cracking with surprise. she wonders how it
went, and what they spoke about, especially for him to be protective. in a way, it was a little
sweet of him (not that she'd ever tell him that to his face though).

" I don't think you need to worry. I can't imagine he'd choose to be violent, to be honest. "

jade was a man of practicality. he is a scientist through and through.
despite the rumours of his brutality, he had always appeared to be someone quick and efficient,
more prone to untangling situations than blindly acting. tear knew better than anyone that he was
simply utilitarian in his methods -- a commonality that they both shared.

if he were to choose violence, it would likely mean either all other methods had been exhausted or he
had evaluated there was no point in even exploring them. and tear doubts such is the case here.

" Oh, I ... I don't, really. I was just playing it by ear. "

sound had always been something of a specialty for her: it was easy to hear the pitch and
frequency even of living beings around her, to reverse those frequencies and cancel out effects.
it wasn't a skill she'd been able to explore all too deeply, but learning instruments was easy.

erin's hesitation isn't lost on her though, and tear hesitates for only a second before just
plowing through and just asking. as always, blunt by nature.

" What exactly did the Captain mean when he called you a 'slaver'? "

she can guess, but she'd rather not put words into erin's mouth or make assumptions about her case.

" I'm guessing that's why you're worried the Colonel would be violent towards you? "

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