Spirits at Play

Brief Title:

Characters:
Black Crow and Brother Voodoo & (emitted) Ramura and Zapada

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
01/30/13 09:00

Location:
Morningside Heights and Harlem - New York

Summary:
Black Crow and Brother Voodoo encounter two playful brother spirits.

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
Mid-winter, NYC, a mix of weather this year, snowing more than usual in places, other areas having high temperatures for the season. Even with a climb towards near 50 presently in the city, Brother Voodoo still has a heavy coat on over his mundane clothes. Still the same, he had been passing through one of the reclaimed green areas of northern Harlm, into Morningside Heights, near the campus for Washington, and has stepped off the sidewalk proper and is standing in a more wooded area (dead trees clustered, building visible on the other side) starring blankly ahead. His hands remain thrust in his pockets.

Up in the woods, perhaps detectable beyond mundane sense, there seems to be an odd play of energies of some sort and it seems to be this mystical anomyly that is drawing his attention for the moment. As if to investigate and see what is happening. It is not enough to broadcast itself far out of the vicinity and had he not been close at hand, it might of went unnoticed by himself. That doesn't stop his curiousity

An odd sight in the dead of winter in New York City, but alone single black crow flies overhead. The lone bird soars high in the area and seems to fixate on the similar area that draws Brother Voodoo’s attention. Despite the oddness of the singular black bird, most New Yorkers ignore it, either in a morning daze on their way to work or purposely ignorance and arrogance to maintain their own attention towards themselves.

Good for the bird, for in reality this small bird stores the mind and body of a mystic who despite atrocities committed to his people, finds himself drawn in vigilance to protect the people of this city. So a mystical anomaly will indeed draw the attention of the one known as Black Crow.

Himself starring ahead all the same, Jericho does cant his head to the side, leaning slightly there and side-mouthing. "Do you see anything yet Daniel?" If there is a response, it is not of the mundane sort. Though, those more attuned might catch the outline of a man like Brother Voodoo appearing next to him through the veil. He responds through that cloud to his brother. "It is coming, but I do not see it."

As he pauses something does start to happen, and he explains this to his brother as it happens. "A small spirit comes, azure flame, it hides from another, darting amonst the melted snow and dead leaves of the woods. Its partner, the pursuer, is emerald ivy, skulking through the ground, rooting amongst the earth. They are at some sort of game." As the energies move about the undergrowth, they do seem playful. The flame like one forms a ball of snow to throw at the other, a branch bends from a tree to block the flight of that ball of snow. It errupts in white powder, sprinkling harmlessly amongst the trees. From the street, it might seem as if squirrels are busy, or melting snow has caused a lump to fall harmlessly. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The game progresses through, the blue flame takes possession of some of that snow and rises as a snow like creature to begin closing the distance towards the green leaf spirit. It in turn takes over and rises up as a matt of mud and leaves to meet its friend. If this play continues to build its momentum, it could take a turn towards dangerous.

And so the game is afoot, literally. The black crow zooms and circles overhead of the spirits at play. It gives off a caw before landing in a tree dead of its leaves. Moving its head about from spirit to spirit, the bird caws again. Hoping to gain their attention and have an audience with them.

"I will need you Daniel," says Brother Voodoo removing his coat, his eyes rolling towards all white as he begins to approach too. At that point is when the crow flies in and cries towards the spirits at play. The blue snow spirit is readying another volly of snow arsenal as the mucky twig spirit is forming a shield of the earth, both standing taller than the average human at the moment. Thankfully amidst the city part trees just the same.

Both turn amongst their chore to look up, the blue snow spirit flickering a moment from within the snow body as if in thought, then forming the words as appropriate to be understood. "Why do you come ... to make judgement of the fair play of our contest ....?" The stick spirit takes a moment to hurl some muck at the snow spirit, knocking off part of its arm in a powder burst. "Foul," it cries for the crow to make judgement, as it bends over to reform the arm and hurl snow back at the stick figure.

Despite what the normal allowable facial expression for a normal crow would be, this is no normal crow. Black Crow smiles and then speaks, “Playful spirits, while it would be an honor to judge the mirth and merriment I see before me. Perhaps another location for this contest would be wiser. Allowing you both a wider battleground and even more abundance to your arsenals. Would it not?” The voice is clear that of a human accentuated to the voice patterns and tone of a Native American. “I am Black Crow and offer my services as judge provided a change of venue.”

That stops Brother Voodoo for the moment, curious about the crow now and only having gone to stop the situation from escalating himself. The snow spirit chuckles, sending a blistery wind through the branches above the earth spirit that snow cascades down upon them. "What venue be this, one of this realm designated for the dispute of siblings?" The stick spirit is in turn calling, "Foul, it must be that Zapada should conjure and throw snow with his hands, not knock it from the trees." Even though he is sending roots under the ground to start tripping at the snow being.

“A venue that serves to spirits of your nature. Place with snow and trees are aplenty and abound for your jovial and playful dispute. What say you Zapada and his brotherly spirit?” The crow’s head shifts from one spirit to the other. His tone as playful and frolicky as theirs. “And thus far, you have both committed fouls.” The smile returns to the crow’s face.

As the crow is playing along with their game, Zapada grins too, as much as a snowman like entity can at least. "Let us see this venue, that Ramura shall known now and ever after that I am his better." He crunches his loud feet through the underbrush to come closer to the crow. The earth spirit does the same, Ramura crackling like broken sticks as he walks, splorting a little because of the muddy ground he has become. "Yes, let us have a fair contest, that we both know how much Zapada despoils truths, where I shall win fairly before all who attend."

The bird flies up off the branches of the tree and mid-air transforms into the human form of Black Crow. Landing in the snow on one knee, the Native American mystic looks up at the spirits, “Thank you, fair spirits.” He rises up and proceeds to withdraw his spear and begins to spin around and around. Faster and faster until the world around those gathered begins to change and shift. From this little section of New York City, suddenly Black Crow, Zapada and Ramura, find themselves on a vast and empty woodland area filled with much snow and many trees. “Welcome to Shipolo, home of the Anasazi.”

"Oh this will do quite nicely," says Zapada, admiring all the snow, walking around near the group to take it all in, Ramura agrees much the same, "The ground is deep and untainted, it will answer nicely should I call upon it."

The two spirits begin their playful contest to be judged by the Anasazi.

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