Cabin the Woods I

[Campanella]

Summer in the woods.

The air is pleasant: a little breeze to stir the air, fragrance of wood, humous, and greenery is not too pungent. The light is warm but soft, dappled and greening where it pushes through the trees.

Campanella has his sleeves rolled up while he continues to tinker with the Sanctum. Right now he is out the front, putting up some wind chimes and dream catchers. There is nothing inherently magical about these objects; but they do lend the Cabin a sense of identity and contribute to its disguise. Here is a cabin, in use and used as a getaway from the city - nothing special or suspicious.

As he works he begins to consider that he has been spending more and more time here. His mind turns to the other members of his nascent cabal, wondering if the serenity of their Sanctum will be infectious.

Time for that social Woland Archangel Michael

[Archangel Michael]

The calm sounds of nature from all around was abruptly overlapped by the screechy eletric screwdriver noise. Again. And again. And over and over again.

Minutes later, the Archangel walks out of the cabin through the front door bringing two empty boxes. The last few personal touches to the inside were already in place. He too had rolled up sleeves. Sweat rolled down his forehead.

One of the hanging mandalas latches to a dreadlock. "Ouch!" With a sigh, he let the cardbox boxes fall to the floor to disentsangle. Dream Catchers? Seriously?I'd rather have people know we're real mages than thinking we're hippies... He clears his throat as he gets a band from his pocket to arrange his locks back into a topknot. With a gentle kick, the boxes slide to beside the door. He or Campy would have to take it back to the city to dispose properly, though.

"We're almost done. If my friend borrows me his pickup truck, I shall bring tomorrow those wooden benches I told about. It just need some sanding and a coat of varnish snd it will be like new... It will look nice on this deck."

[Campanella]

Campanella turned and smiled.

"Benches? Why yes. I would say they would make a perfect fit." He gestured expansively with his hands as he wove a picture of the finished look in his mind's eye.

"I apologise for the dream catcher; I'll have to move it more to your left, I think."

A pause.

"You are all squared away, as they say? You have enough room for your things? For a horrible moment I thought I had taken the lion's share of the place." The Moros had already been Working at the Sanctum. He had spread himself out a bit much - which was why he had been working solidly to put his gear together in one spot of the cabin, then tinkered around the place all afternoon, while his Cabal Mate had been settling in.

Another pause. It had been a pity that Bolide remained incommunicado*. Without the third member of their company to balance the two mages, thoughts naturally began to dwell on weighty matters. Of a certain, dream-like day. And harsh words.

"Do you have time for a drink? I bought a bottle that I thought fitting for a moment such as this." Wine. And the inevitable discussion. No! Wait! Wine to savour the view on a pleasant summer's afternoon. Yes!

*Timey Wimey stuff and continuity.

[Archangel Michael]

"Don't worry, I won't get caught on those again. Leave it where it is."

The Obrimos wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as he leans his back at the wall. He raises his head at Campanella's concern, a nod comes afterwards. "Yeah. I have all the room I need. I guess the only thing left to set is the communal study. The shelves are already in place. I have a few books to fill in the shelves... Common books, I mean, no grimories for now unfortunately."

Michael lets out a sigh as he touches the front pocket for his Zippo and the cigs packet. He didn't enjoyed the new smoking habit, but it was the only thing to keep him cool after so much of the recent stress. The Moros' mention of something to drink drives his mind away from cigarettes. "Indeed. Our humble way to comemorate our Sanctum's Grand Opening. I wish there were more people to enjoy the momento with us but... well, whatever." Of course he is talking about Bolide, Faye and even the other blonde he ends up forgetting the name. He pushes himself away from the wall. "Hold on..." The Obrimos enters the cabin and comes back out moments later with a pair of glasses.

Sincerely, Michael wasn't completely comfortable to share a drink with Campanella alone. Not after what happened. A drink is still a drink, though...

[Campanella]

Campanella smiles. While Archangel Michael hunts for glasses, the Moros goes and collects the bottle.

"Simple but hearty bouquet, or so I'm told." He said once they had reconvened. He poured, first for the Obrimos, and then for himself.

A brief pause and then, picking up Michael's earlier theme: "Ah. Yes. I would have liked a few more. Still I think... I would like to think... that we have the core of a Cabal here." His eyes flashed for a second, anticipating a reaction.

[Archangel Michael]

"More companions shall join us with time." He takes a sip from his glass, savoring the taste. Much better than cigarettes.

"If they don't, however, we'll have to carry on on our own." Another sip of wine before he breathes out, relaxed. "Now there's a sacred place of our own to defend. And our purpose. We can't give up on our purpose."

Michael lowers his head a bit wondering to himself how much more difficult would it be to find the desired knowledge without further help.

[Campanella]

Campanella's mouth firmed slightly. He nodded along with Archangel Michael's sentiments.

He sipped from his drink, brooding as the silence enveloped them. A breath of air; a tinkle of chimes.

"We have to talk about what happened."

The Moros spoke reluctantly.

[Archangel Michael]

Michael knows in fact what the Moros is talking about. He glances at the man for a moment, but eyes stray back into the horizon once again.

"What...What happened back then? It... I don't know how it all went so far..." The eloquent Obrimos has a bad time with the words. Not even himself knows if he can't choose the words or if he doesn't know what to say at all. "I just remember that your..." Arrogance? "...acting so cocky made me angry."

[Campanella]

Campanella stared at his glass.

"I'm not sure myself. It all seems dreamlike. My intention was to simple hold you in place and, under duress, I messed with the air. My Arcana don't have anything flashy for a fight, you see. It requires rather careful planning beforehand. Anyway... I wove my spells... Then... a sense of victory? And from then its... a dream really. I sensed what was going on, more then felt, if that make sense. A great sense of power and insight. And a shiver down my spine, like when a cockroach crawls over your hand. Something like that."

He drank.

"I have idea what I actually said."

Tentatively.

"What did I say?"

[West]

Been a week with no posts -- Scene Ends.