Blooming in the dark (knitmeapony) wrote in taleoftwoteams,
Blooming in the dark
knitmeapony
taleoftwoteams

Recruitment: Annelie Liljedahl

It's four-forty-five in the morning. The main adjectives here are dark and cold, with a side order of damp. The night's been particularly heavy this winter -- they've just felt longer than most years. An odd tension in the air. It's enough to make an excitable person wonder what's coming.

There's a scratching at Annelie's door, a very soft sound, like mice. Except the pattern keeps changing, and anyone focusing would slowly start to recognize the different patterns. Giddyup, giddyup, giddyup let's go... then shave and a hair cut... and then tea, for two, and two, for tea...
Tags: cardiff, intros, rp
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The particular patterns are mostly unrecognizable to Annelie. Due in a large part to the fact that focusing was maybe not her strong suit. But the scratching itself was enough to distract her from her bowl of cereal. A lot of things were enough to distract her from her bowl of cereal.

Four-forty-five AM was an ungodly time to wake up, its true. Annelie agreed with that. Anyone waking up before five in the morning was mad as crackers. Annelie was not mad as crackers. Annelie had not gone to bed yet. This was dinner cereal. It was her day off, after all. And that meant Annelie had been busy at work trying to fix it so that her stereo would turn on with her lights. Not for the convenience, really. Its just that it was less of a fire hazar than trying it with the toaster. That would explain why she had enough energy to jump up the way she did.

There was a thump against the door, as she flattened herself out on it, and stuck her eye up to the peephole, proclaiming loudly, in her native tongue (one would assume mice in Norway were Norwegian, after all)

"Okay, Mices. I hear you out there, wanting my cereal."

after which she started shoving little sugary pieces out from under the door, into the hallway. Yay micefriends!
Normally, sugary cereal would have sent Leto into absolute paroxysms of joy. Normally, though, she's not in Norway, it's not this cold, and there aren't other things afoot.

The cereal starts coming back under the door, and after a second a little black raccoon paw pokes back under the door too, patpatpatting at the floor. There's some scrabbling sound, and it's almost like she's trying to push her way under the door.
Annelie had never actually seen a racoon before, so the paw was not immediately identifiable to her as something that might give her rabies. She touched one of the little black paws gently with her pointer finger, thought about it for a second, and then, down on her hands and knees called under the doorway, again in a language Leto probably could not understand

"Okay, I will let you in, you whateveryouare that hates cereal. But if you bite me, I'll shoot you good!"

Annelie liked little furry animals. Not so much being bit by them. This thing wanted in really bad though and..who knows. They might make friends yet. This cereal thing didn't have to keep them apart.

Annelie flung open the door in boxer shorts and a wife beater, pixie faced, pierced and tattooed, and waved, cheerily.
HURRAY THANK GOD! Leto made a happy squeeky sound, scrabbled inside behind Annelie's legs, flipped off the hallway and made frantic motions for Annelie to shut the door.

Then she waved her hands dramatically, darted back out to grab a little paper lunch sack still sitting out there, and dodged something -- there was nothing there as far as Annalie could see -- before diving back inside to tug on the door. Closeitcloseitcloseit!
Annelie watched in amazement. This was by far the cleverest racoon she'd seen ever ever! It was, granted, the first racoon she's ever seen in person. But still! Who knew racoons could be so clever

"You are very clever, Racoon."

She said, closing the door. She then proceeded to offer it a stick of gum. She wasn't quite sure what else to do. She was pretty sure racoons probably didn't like gum, but she didn't know it for a fact. and she didn't want to seem rude.
Yay! Gum! The raccoon put the gum inside it's paper bag, and proceeded to industriously pick up the cereal and put it in there too. No sense wasting food!

After a minute (and when all the cereal was safely inside the bag), she seemed to remember where she was. Oh, yeah. She peered up at Annelie and looked thoughtful for a second, then covered her eyes, pointed at Annelie, and covered'em again, clearly wanting Annelie to emulate her.
HAH! good. It did like cereal. well. That was settled, then. They both liked cereal, and gum. THey were both very clever, they could be friends.

When the raccoon gestured for Annelie to cover her eyes, she shrugged a little, gave the raccoon a thumbs up, and then covered them. It was not so very often a small animal wanted her to do things. she figured she ought to go with it. It seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity.
It only took a second, once she had her eyes covered. Well, six to twelve seconds, but metaphorically it was just a second. "Halo!" Leto stood before Annelie now in people form. "Not that I couldn't understand before or anything," she drawls out, all cockney, "but if there's English in your head it'd probably be good to talk in case we get spied on."
Annelie opened her fingers a little, then ulled down her hands completely, looks all around her and gasped. Also, clapped a little. A were raccoon, maybe? Annelie could not tell. Either way, it was a very good trick.

"You are not vaskebjørn at all!"

She proclaimed, in English. Well. Mostly in English, anyway. As a rule, her English was better than she let on. But the word 'Raccoon' really just wasn't in her vocabulary.

"I see your trick! Very clever!"

Annelie rushed to offer her the whole box of cereal. She could have it. Annelie could always buy more, after all.
Eee! Cereal! "I have not had food in weeks," she declares, flopping right down in the middle of the floor next to her bag to stick her hand in and munch away.

"I am a human being too!" She peers up at Annelie. "Also, I am a singing telegram."
"I am an automobile.."

She paused, thinking very hard for a moment

"Mechanic! An automobile mechanic."

It seemed to Annelie to be the only logical response. The little girl was a singing telegram, and Annelie was an auto mechanic.

"You are having a telegram for me?"

She asks, sitting down on the floor as well, sticking her fingers through the flesh tunnel plugs in her ears and fidgeting, for lack of something better to do with her hands
That's... actually about right. Leto nods her head -- no, no telegram here, actually, but she digs into her paper bag and shifts things around.

Finally she pulls out a very official looking envelope. It's made of very fine paper -- linen, really, smooth and creamy and hand made -- with actual gold leaf on the front in an intricate seal. Amazingly, there's nothing stuck to it.

Leto examines it on all sides to make sure it's whole and then hands it over to Annelie before digging back into her cereal.
Oh ho! A letter! a very, very fancy letter. Annelie took hold of it with both her hands (hands that, through tatooing now read '????' '!!!!') and sniffed at it a little. SHe wasn't sure why, really. It just seemed like the thing to do, at all the time. she clawed at the seal for a moment lazily with one finger nail, trying to figure out how one goes about opening a letter with a seal. After a moments work, she simply give up, and rips the top off unceremoniously.

A letter! How novel. Oh, Annelie sincerely hoped she hadn't just fallen asleep on the floor again. It would be very disappointing if this was all some kind of dream.
The letter smelled faintly of saltwater and oranges, something exotic and spicy, and of course of linen and ink. Also, oddly, of cinnamon candies and gum. It was the kind of smell that'd travelled a long way to get to her nose, layer after layer.

She could feel something pop when she tore it open, like her ears after swimming, a breath of odd air.

The paper inside was crisp if old, lettered in an antique hand.

For my dearest new-moon:

You do not know me yet -- or again -- but you will, I hope, and answer this call. Trust when I say the choice is no mere happenstance. Fate comes for you.

I am writing to request your presence at the Sept of Cyll Golwg. We of Lost Sight have need of another eye upon us, one unshaded by age and unhindered by fear. We have need of hands to work, and feet to walk, and lips to speak in friendship.

I know you well, and someday you will know me better, I promise you that. I ask only that you trust that the road is long, the adventure grand, and the reward worth the risk. Enclosed you will find a return ticket for yourself and a one-way ticket for Leto on the most express train to Cardiff. More will be explained when you arrive.

Please understand this is no short-term request, and that you may be launching on a chapter of life, not a mere paragraph jaunt. Think hard, my friend: you have twenty-four hours until your train leaves.

May She shine on your life,

Rynna Goldrins
Her Journey Unending


Leto had found a cushion to sit on and looked unlikely to be moved from the cereal or cushion until the twenty-four hours were up.
Annelie carefully deposited a piece of gum in her mouth as she read, and then chewed it, thoughtfully. She had to read the letter twice. It was long, and Annelie knew she had a bad habit of starting to drift off into fantasy when confronted with long, boring things. But this was not boring at all. it read the same way twice, and her little heart thrilled with excitement. Adventure! She knew it would come. And she even had a bag packed. It wasn't everything she would need, though. Twenty four hours, that was time enough for her.

SHe hopped off the floor and scrambled up a ladder on the other side of the room that made up her living room/dining area, pulled a poster down from the ceiling and stuck her head through a rather large hole of her own creation

"Mama! Papa! I am going to England Okay? Okay! I have to go tell work. you stick your head down and say hello to my friend, Okay? Bye!"

She called out, the volume of her voice really quite inappropriate for the time of day, and then scrambled back down the ladder.

"I go with you, but first I have things, you know? Here is good for you to stay. If there are old people coming out of the ceiling while I am gone relax. It is good, It is O.K. it is just some parents of mine."

She explained in a sort of distracted, rambly way as she pulled on some clothes. She sort of hopped over to the fridge while putting on her shoes, and held it open.

"I have good foods for you too, if you are hungry. Puddings, and things. Tomato Ketchups"

Holding up a plastic bottle of american ketchup she had likely gone quite out of her way to find.

"You will be O.K, ja?"

knitmeapony

12 years ago

lelapindedoom

12 years ago