sweethymns | Pictures in the Dark

This doesn't make for an ideal date does it?

[Is what Iona muses to herself, but also her new boyfriend as she leads them through a strangely large art museum. Not just strange because of the art, but rather, everything's dusty, cracked, statues with missing limbs and empty picture frames, and some paintings are hanging off the wall.

The witch sneezes before wrinkling her nose and tapping her foot on the ground.]

But then again, we can make do with a creepy abandoned art museum, don't you think? At least after we find that urn my grandma asked for.

[Iona doesn't seem disheartened by the fact that she's being sent on an errand by her grandmother to retrieve a mysterious urn. The details were muddled, but apparently it was best that it was found and be given to capable hands.]

Edited 2016-06-20 05:35 (UTC)

[Michael walks next to her, uncertain about this place. Their penchant for finding themselves wandering through abandoned locales is something he's still unsure about, and while the whole experience with ghosts was creepy enough, there's something about abandoned art that sends a different sort of eerie feeling his way. Michael eyes a statue that's missing its head as they walk past.]

Ah... no, maybe not the ideal date, unless you find broken statues romantic.

[What were they looking for? An urn? Michael can't help but wonder what was so special about it, and he muses over this briefly as they continue. He looks over at Iona, who appears as unfazed by their surroundings as ever.]

So, is this a magic urn or something...?

Mm hm!

[Iona gingerly steps over a some rubble before continuing. Oren, is following close behind, but he's given the two more distance.]

And it's not just the urn itself, but rather what's inside. I think Grandma implied that whatever's lurking inside of it is rather powerful so we don't want to open it up or anything.

[Michael's shoes kick at little pieces of dislodged rubble as they continue down one of the gallery areas.]

So she's just going to keep it out of prying eyes and hands? [He can't help but wonder exactly what's in the urn, then, though he supposes it would be best not to find out.] Funny that someone would leave something that dangerous just lying around in an old museum.

You know, some artifacts are fine, if not better left alone, but then you got other objects that start getting cranky and will curse the next person that so much looks at it. The supernatural is tricky!

[She makes a thumb gesture towards Oren.]

Like for instance, golems. If you're going to make one, you better be damn sure you know how.

[He turns his neck to briefly gaze over his shoulder at Oren, who is a little ways behind him. He never thought about the process of making a golem (mostly because he wouldn't even know where one started), but he imagined it took quite a bit of skill. Iona's grandmother must be fairly talented, indeed.]

I'm... guessing it's a complicated process?

It can be easy or hard depending on the person's skill or needs. You can make golems that are only for one or two purposes, but a golem like the big guy over with multiple functions is pretty up there on the difficulty scale.

[And with Iona to confirm it, Michael says out loud what he was thinking mere moments earlier.]

Your grandmother must be pretty skilled, then.

[Iona nods to affirm his statement.]

Well, if she's over 400, she'd have to find her niche at some point.

[There's a thoughtful pause from her as she walks a little bit ahead, giving a glance to a faded portrait on the wall.]

... You know? I didn't meet her until I was about 10 years old.

[He follows diligently, though his gaze does wander to the odd painting once in awhile. However, upon hearing Iona's comment, he looks in her direction.]

And how did that first meeting go?

[Michael probably would have been in awe, no matter his age.]

I don't think it fully hit me at that time she was my grandmother. To give you some context, she only looks like, several years older than me right now.

[Iona remembers going to a normal elementary school and her classmates either praising or complaining about their elderly relatives. And when she finally met Berna, she wasn't sure what to expect. White hair? Wrinkles? Cookies or being spoiled with toys?]

And, well, she's really affectionate in her own way.

[So the spoiling part isn't too off.]

[Michael looks surprised -- granted, he knew that Iona would age slowly (and by extension, likely her family as well), but for someone of 400 to only look a few years older than Iona does?

That must have been jarring. He's not sure how to process it, since the whole aging slowly is kind of new to him, too.

He just gives her a little smile, though.] Most grandmothers like to spoil their grandchildren.

[He opens his mouth to add something else, possibly about his own family, but before he can, he hears the sound of... distant voices? It's hard to make out in the ever-echoing abandoned building, but it's enough to give him pause. He speaks in a low tone.]

I thought we were the only ones here?

[Iona purses her lips. She hears the voices too.]

We're supposed to be? Who else would be in here...?

[Is there a wall or something they can hide behind? Or rather...]

Here, take my hand and stay quiet. We're going invisible.

Invisible...?

[Well, no time to hesitate, much less question it. Michael reaches out to grab her hand (it's getting easier and easier to make such intimate gesture with Iona without feeling embarrassed at this point, it just takes a bit of practice on his part), clasping his fingers around hers.

He tells himself no need to feel tense; they're just going to stealthily see what the noise is, and it'll end up being nothing even worth their notice. Right?]

[Oren's turned invisible himself and is nowhere to be seen. Iona, using her left hand, traces the air with her index finger and a glowing golden trail can be seen. It turns into something similar to a bubble that envelopes them both.]

There! Neat, huh? I don't cast that much magic around you, don't I?

[No, she just punches things...]

[He watches with a sense of wonderment, which is only tempered by the situation they're in. Despite himself, he can't help but joke just a little around her.]

No, usually you're just being very... ah, forceful with that arm of yours.

[But hey, this invisibility thing is pretty nifty. She should use her magic around him more often.]

Hey! [She says that, but it's joking too.]

It's what I have to work with, don't I? Ah, but let's hush now...

[She puts a finger to her lips and then walks a little backwards into the wall so they won't be in the way of whoever decided to make a visit to this gallery as well.]

[Michael follows suit, reining in any other joking comments he might be inclined to make. Besides, he has to focus, now. Just in case the noise ends up leading to trouble -- he can only hope that isn't the case, though.

The draw nearer, slowly, quietly, until they finally reach the entrance to another larger gallery area. The voices grow louder, then, and more audible; Michael and Iona will likely be able to make out three figures and hear their statements clearly.

Perhaps the most disconcerting though, is that one of those individuals seems to be a holding an urn. Was it the one they were looking for? Michael narrows his eyes at the man, tall and possessing dark, short hair, trying to make him out better. He's standing next to another man, an inch or two shorter, with dirty blonde hair, and a girl. She looks particularly exasperated, and speaks next.]

[Lyra stands with her arms crossed, looking a bit impatient. Honestly, she has no idea why she's here -- it's not like they have any use for her powers in an abandoned museum.]

Are we done now? This place is creepy, dusty, and I think I've got a tiny piece of... rubble or something in my shoe.

[Morgan, on the other hand, appears far less annoyed, a bit harder to read than the other two. He has a vaguely amused smile on his face, if one squints hard enough. He also has his arms crossed, but in a more casual manner than Lyra.]

Why are you asking me, Lyra? This is Jacob's mission, remember? He had the privilege of choosing it, so we're following his lead this time.

[How cute.]

[Jake, however, shushes them both, a hissing noise that escapes from between his teeth.]

Quiet, the both of you- I'm trying to think, here.

[He turns the urn around in his hands, looking it over. It looked so... mundane and not particularly special. Why was their client paying so much money for this piece of junk? Are they in the right place?]

It matches the description. But something doesn't feel right. It can't be this simple.

[But isn't that what you wanted, Jake? Easy money, a job where they don't have to get hurt or hurt anyone in return?]

Edited 2016-06-22 17:48 (UTC)

... Oh.

[Oh indeed. Hm. HMMMMM.

Iona's doing that thing with her brows again, the worried furrowing and wrinkling her nose. She turns to Michael, the uncertainty being very clear on her face.]

This... This is going to be awkward. I think I know one of them.

[Michael's expression turns into one of faint confusion, looking over at Iona and speaking in a hushed tone.]

Which one? [He looks back at the group, not sure what to make of them, or why they're even here.] How do you know them?

I don't know the other two...

[Iona points to Morgan though.]

I've met him though. He was a customer at the Grind. He's only been there once though.

[Iona shakes her head.]

No one really liked him. It's kind of hard to put my finger on why though.

Other two customers.

[Oh, thanks Oren. Even though he's also invisible, he's visible to Iona and Michael. He points to Lyra and Jacob.]

Acquainted with him.

αℓℓ тнαт gℓιттєяѕ

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uuuum dw y u eat my notif

gently shakes dw

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1/4?? hoo boy

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done!!!

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1/2

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