Ritual UP

[Star]

"Ry Ry! RY RYYYYYYY!"

Wherever Jack's been? Required jeans, boots, and a denim jacket. Maybe 'required' was a strong word. Or maybe 'wherever' was the wrong word. Whoever. Like Lance, because the name 'Ry Ry' still made Jack crack up.

"Tuuuueeesday!"

He roamed through the theater, calling out as he made his way to the concessions/bar/kitchen. Grabbed a lime from the little basket that held his itty bitty limes from his very own lime tree and started cutting wedges.

"I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back...

I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back.

I've been everywhere, and still I'm standing taaaaaaaaall

I've seen a million faces and I'vvvvvvveeeeee rocked them all!"

[Tuesday]

She was never, ever ever going to live down 'Ry Ry'.

If she were anyone else. That might have mattered. But Tuesday was a chipper unicorn who knew without a doubt that she walked into that one.

Maybe she'd talk to Gus and see if his guy could get her a new ID with Ryan on it. Just for the lulz. And the Memories.

Tuesday thought about joining the shouting angel, but dude. He was doing it wrong. That's not how you pronounce 'marco'.

Besides. Super duper comfy.

Hidden away in her blanket plus robe fort, wearing a tank top and flannel pj pants with adorable cartoon polar bears. And her fuzzy socks. Can't forget the fuzzy socks. (they're orange and purple)

But then, (because Star knows the quickest way to get her attention) he starts belting out a tune. And not just any tune. But one that works perfectly. Because....Tuesday didn't know. It has to be some kind of juju.

Following the familiar lyrics Tuesday finds Star in the kitchen, wearing a cowboy getup. (Because of course)

Padding up in her orange and purple socks, She belt out, "I'm wanted, wanted dead or alive~!" because apparently she was. But probably not literally.

Also. "Limes. What's up? Is it pie? Are we getting key lime pie?" Tuesday thought those limes were small enough to be keylimes but she didn't know. "Because, let me tell you lemon migraine and key lime. Yum." blink. "Also other pies. They can also be yummy."

[Star]

A pie?

The knife paused. Then resumed. Once upon a time, that'd be weird. You know. Making Tuesday a pie with his limes from the lime tree he got from Avis. Because those are Avis' limes, kinda. Sorta. Except. Except Avis didn't care what he did with his limes. Or if he wanted to make a pie. With Tuesday.

Yeah, still weird.

"Ohhhh, it's soooo on now. Because you answered. To Ry Ry." It's funny enough the grin isn't even forced. Or the hip bump. "But, uh, I was just making a glass of water. With lime. Hang on."

He steadied himself on the counter and stepped out of the boots. They were comfy, but he was pretty sure he'd break one of her toes if he stepped on those socks. His? Grey and inside out. Because Finding Forrester.

"But I can? Like, baking is my jam. I'm a better baker than cook. I'll, uh. I'll make you a pie." Yep, there it goes. The little red flush on the back of his neck. "Buuuuuuut. Actually."

There's a glass of ice water now, with a lime. A long finger asks for a moment while he drinks.

"I'll make you a deal. Pie for Shield. Bake me a Rit. Quit walking around..."

'Nekkid' isn't the word to use, yo.

... Neither is 'without protection' ...

"...UnShielded."

[Tuesday]

"I did not!" she huffed, faux indignant, "I answered To wanted dead or alive. Big difference." she said with her own smile.

"Oh poo." Sure fresh water with lemon and slash or lime was awesome, but Tuesday was already fantasizing about pie. "How can that be a thing? Like really. You cook amazingly. How, just how can your baking be better?"

A blink, "That's not to say I'm saying no to pie. I'm never saying no to pie. Unless were talking in a naughty way, then I might say to no-ah pie. Since. Yeeeaaahhh."

There's a cough.

"And yeah. Baked goods for Shields. I'll never run around without one ever, ever again. Promise~"

A bit of mana, a twist of her will and there. Shield. Tuesday grins. Then bites her lip. "I'm just not good at the more-then-a-day stuff. Yet. But cinnamon bun in the morning, and I'll get fat, and stay Shielded."

  5 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2017-01-06 15:19:01		Tuesday rolls 5 to Fate Shield (Fate 3 + Gnos 2) (10 Again)		8, 9, 10, 9, 8, 3		5 successes

[Star]

"Hey, I thought Ry-Ry was, uh. Kinda, you know. You know."

If 'You Know' meant 'Cute'. And 'Cute' meant Hot. Even if he did like her 'regular' hair better than the blue wig. At least, that blue wig. That butt swat, tho... Stop talking about buns, yo. Thoroughly Unimpressed eyes watched the golden glyph form and settle. Thoroughly. With arms crossed and everything.

"You see this Shield?" A crossed hand pointed at himself. No, of course she couldn't. Because Sight. And Cloak. But that's not how The Speech Goes. "This Shield lasts weeks longer than yours. In the Sanctum? So what. At Consilium? Who cares. You want pie?"

Wait for it.

"Pie."

Yep.

"Is."

Going there.

"For."

Say it along, now.

"Ritualists."

Truth is, Jack worries. Just a little. The little Apostate isn't like Asp, Avis, or Zoey. No Arrow or Guardian sensibilities. Just, la-la-la. Which is good, most of the time. Once upon a time it might have been like big brother-little sister worry but that's just not the metaphor to use after you've kissed someone.

"So. More-than-a-day stuff. I hope those... uh... are you're, uh. Ritual socks. That you've got on."

Not Business Socks.

[Tuesday]

A blink.

"Oh. Oooh. Oooooh..." Now that made everything all. Different. Not weird, but a little weird (she's been on the ignore the weirdness train because does not want to have everything feel weird.) But. Here it is. Right in her face. Did the Ry-Ry, Lance butt swat mean more then just Ry-Ry and Lance playing around as they got their Heist on...was that a little more Star and Tuesday then she let herself think about?

This probably means she needs to think about it.

"Fine." a nod, faux-indignant (because she liked that word. it was fun to play up. and to say. in-dig-nant) "Good pies take time to bake anyway."

Hands akimbo, she nods again. This time seriously. "I can't flippantly do a Ritual. It takes time and prep and-and-and-and. Which you know. So I'm guessing you wanted to see if I knew that too?" she shakes her head, drops her hands and leans on the counter, "I do know. No worries there. But that means that I can't just up and do one now. Since yeah. But I will. If not for pie. Then for you. Since Crowley. So yeah. I'll get stuff ready and do a Ritual. I can go for like nine hours, max. Which means after, you can mother-hen me and Hearthmaster my lovely self all you want." and there's a unicorn grin.

"Besides, my Rit socks have anchors on 'em."

[Star]

"And-and-and?"

Yeah, that drawn out 'oooooooh' mean he'd made things weird. So just keep sailing.

"Why not? Like, the flippantly. I mean, is that like a... Dea thing? Or a Tuesday thing?"

A glyph began to form, lines spiraling out in golden tracers as the Imago formed around the glowing center of his personal Identity. An outer ring began to pulse gently, breathed into life as he poured power into the sigils that would extend the working.

And then it fell apart in a golden splash like a thousand fireflies dying.

"See? You can get your Rit on whenever you want. I used to do my Rits at a piano bar while I was playing." He matched her lean. "Unless you're, like, just playing it up to get mother hen'ed and Hearthmastered."

Has Tuesday ever had an Eskimo kiss? Now she has.

"But I'm totally not buying it. Maybe the socks. Maybe. But not the rest."

[Tuesday]

"Yes. And-and-and." Tuesday sputters. Uncomfortable. As much as she understood conflict was a part of life, she didn't want to bring it into her home. Which is why she'd, welp. Which is why.

Sucking in a breath, Tuesday looks at Star. An unblinking stare, then as if it never was, she blinks. A flutter of her lashes, "Maybe a little of both. To Dea everything was a slow arduous process. Like it had to be done this way. Because it has been done this. It's all Time, Tradition and Set in Stone for her. That's why she gave up trying to teach me High. I just couldn't get it. That's an-only-since-I-came-here-thing." Only when she realized that everyone had their own personal ways to chant in High. Their own tiny Rituals.

Frowning, hazels set to a far point in the room, and are not even seeing it. Feeling the glyph that was surly forming, Tuesday frowns and grabs at her own bag of tricks, so she can actual see it. Golden sparks weave, a glyph in miniature. Overlaid upon her eyes.

She chews her lip as she sees the glyph Star wove, probably for the first time. Tracking the glowing sigils, and then the firefly explosion.

"No. I-ah didn't know. That I could just Rit up - just like that." she snaps her fingers, her cheeks pink. "It was all proper place and time for her. And it just stuck. Since no one else said anything to me about it. Just went with it. Just to much effort for something I can do on the fly if I want."

A shrug, interrupted by an Eskimo kiss. It's...been awhile since the last time she'd gotten one. The corner of her mouth tugs upward. At the far away memory and at Star.

"So magic-man give me the actual deets on this Ritrualy stuff. Obviously I need 'em."

  1 success

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2017-01-07 15:02:44		Tuesday rolls 5 to Fate Sight (Fate 3 + Gnos 2) (10 Again)		5, 10, 6, 1, 5, 4		1 success

[Star]

"Yeah, she messed you up."

Control Freaks Anonymous. But? It also meant Tuesday probably hadn't gone off the deep end abusing her Will. It's a question without an answer. Get to Awakened immediately, or let them them flex a bit. And when you, how much freedom to give them. There's places where a defenseless unicorn would have been caught and chained in a heartbeat. Sometimes those two or three breaths worth of 'casting is the whole world.

"Sorry. I'm staring. I still haven't figured out, like, when you're being cute-cute, just natural cute or flirty cute. It's, ummm. Distracting. But, yes. Yes. Ritual? Just a word, not a process. It's up and it's down, it's in and it's out, it's black and it's whiiiite "

Singing.

"You know what a ritual is? It's an opera instead of a radio edit. That's all. Your spirit and your will...," the Angels words drew out into song, " In ooooooone combined, a riiiiiiiiiiiiituuuuuuaaaaaaaaal is like an op-er-ah, in-side your mind "

The finger went up again. Need a drink, yo. There's a reason Michael Crawford is Michael Crawford.

"Think of it like singing. Like holding a note. You can hold a note anywhere, right? No rules for how or when you sing. Well. Unless you've got singing socks."

[Tuesday]

"Gee-wiz mista! I never ever did thought about that!"

Okay that might not be the best thing to say. But She felt exposed. Stupid and embarrassed. And Jokes. They're just a different sort of Shield.

"I..don't know...?" swallowing. "You said." Ry-Ry, "And meant...welp. So I..." ooooh'd "Then you." her hand goes to her nose, then drops. "So. I just. Um. Went with it. So if you wanna take it as. Welp. That's fine, but. Ah-if not. Then that's fine too."

She bites her lip. Nodding. Stepping around it and moving on. Great. Sounds like a plan.

"Yes. Okay. Ritual. Words. Nouns and things. Like adjectives. But Ritual is a noun." She swallows, then her lips quirk upward, when Star gets his Katy Perry on. Then she grins, and laughs a little, because Star just brought out the big guns.

Then. Boom. Tuesday blinks. Swallows. And "Oh." She sucks in a breath. "That's good. So I don't need to. But." her fingers sort of flail a bit.

"Dea really messed me up didn't she?" she says in a voice smaller then her natural ebullient rasp has a right to be.