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The Stained Canvas

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  1. #1
    Morgan's Avatar

    Morgan

    2
    PRE

    Morgan leaned back against the wall, staring up at a massive canvas that must have been at least ten feet tall. It was unfinished as of yet, but what was on the page was breathtaking, a miasma of impressionistic color that depicted the swirling depths of a nebula, the bastard child of Rothko, Pollock, and Neil de Grasse Tyson. She loved it, but she was curious what Peps would say. She had the artist's eye, after all.

    Sighing Morgan glanced down at her phone. 10 minutes till they had agreed to meet. Which was fine, since she'd paid the artist of the surreal nebula a c-note to take an early lunch and leave them the workspace. There were a few of them scattered throughout the gallery, though this was the most private. Locked door and all.

    Now, all that was left was for her sister to arrive and see if they could bridge almost a decade of hurt.

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  3. #2
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Presance
    (Volatile)
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    Allies
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose


    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.

    Nimbus

    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.
    Stats

    Health:
    Backlash:
    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Vulgar
    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

    2
    PRE

    Briar Rose is late. Not five minute fashionable, but late. She could have given a million and ten excuses but. Well. It was one thing to see each other in a crowded room, tease and banter in front of an audience, another to wish and want but to...well. Briar Rose is late.

    Minutes dragging on as she stands there and stares at the flesh and blood, the bones and soul of her sister and not the explosion of artistic creativity that was the backdrop of their meeting place.

    Why did feelings have to be hard?

    "Hi." she manages, after forever. She couldn't actually tell. She wasn't an Enchanter and didn't have their clock.
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E Life Armour/Life Sight (Duration 4/Sight Pot 1, Shield Pot 6)

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  5. #3
    Morgan's Avatar

    Morgan

    2
    PRE

    As the minutes had stretched on, her legs growing tired from stading so long, a fear had began to bloom somewhere inside her chest cavity, a thorny sprout the seemed to wind its way around her heart and outward to latch itself to her ribcage as if it were a trellis.

    But there had been the voicemail.

    A promise.

    Morgan swallowed, and stared back up at the canvas, at the beautiful expanse of color that had been born from a stranger's mind, and found her eyes drifting upwards to the parts of the canvas that were still empty and devoid of paint, pristine, and waiting. She almost missed it when the thorns around her heart actually stepped into the room.

    "Hi," Morgan echoed back, staring. The moment stretched on, a moment as frozen in time as the swirling galaxies trapped behind layers of paint. She was there. Painfully changed, and yet, here.

    The moment broke as Morgan rushed forwards, her legs feeling practically asleep, and she almost fell into Briar Rose as she wrapped the other woman in a fierce hug.

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  7. #4
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Presance
    (Volatile)
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    Allies
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose


    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.

    Nimbus

    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.
    Stats

    Health:
    Backlash:
    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Vulgar
    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

    2
    PRE

    She should have expected it.
    but she didn't as much as she hoped and dreamed and wondered she hadn't allowed it to bloom on the vine. nightmares make thrones ripe and sharp and deadly

    She'd expected distance and silence, awkward stilted words, wreathed with guilt and regret cavernous deep.

    Instead...instead.

    She snorts up a hiccuping laugh as she's griped and grips in return. Sharp and bruising, heavy and real.

    "Hi." she repeats, this time a whisper in her sister's ear. "Fancy seeing you here." she adds because she feels like she has to, she doesn't know if the quip lands, but she can smell Arnie's hair and skin, her soap and clothes. So the landing doesn't matter.
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E Life Armour/Life Sight (Duration 4/Sight Pot 1, Shield Pot 6)

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  9. #5
    Morgan's Avatar

    Morgan

    2
    PRE

    The hug was rough and uncomfortable, Morgan grasping onto her sister as though she were trying to crack their bones against the other, but she couldn't let go. It had been years since they'd seen one another, and years more since they'd shared anything besides barbed words and injured feelings. To have Peps here, squeezed between her arms, undeniably, unquestioningly, unmistakably here, alive, breathing, returning the embrace, it was almost too much. She sniffled as she finally let go and let Peps breath again.

    "Do I need to buy you a fucking watch, or what?" she asked, turning away so she could compose herself, a hand rising up to brush a stray fall of water from her eyes. This wasn't some magical dream come true. There was still a hard road for them to walk.

    "I haven't seen you since Mom and Dad's funeral,"
    she continued, turning around, trying to act composed once more.

    "The hair's new."

    It was a stupid thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything meaningful, confronted with this living ghost from her past.

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  11. #6
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Presance
    (Volatile)
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    Allies
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose


    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.

    Nimbus

    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.
    Stats

    Health:
    Backlash:
    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Vulgar
    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

    2
    PRE

    Uncomfortable but great. Amazing and real. If the leather encasing her arms wasn't as well loved as it was it would creak and squeak under the pressure.

    "Do I need to go Gandalf on you sister mine?" Peps moves away
    but not far, close enough to reach out and touch, close enough to know this wasn't a dream, and wishes. A foolish hope hanging off poisoned vines.

    A shallow nod, a quick swallow. Eyes glassy, but not over filling, spilling and tumbling down.

    "Yeah, it's been...a while." her hands move, fixing the jacket and throwing a lock of pink hair over her shoulder.

    Another half laugh,

    "It, it is. Yeah. I got some ink too." a moment, weight shifted, a sigh. "Since, um. The, that -" her fingers dancing up, and wave at the femhawk, "Looks good on you."
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E Life Armour/Life Sight (Duration 4/Sight Pot 1, Shield Pot 6)

  12. #7
    Morgan's Avatar

    Morgan

    2
    PRE

    "HA! Yeah, ok," Morgan barked out, momentarily travelling back to third grade, laying on a carpet spotted with cigarette burns, but wrapped in a soft blanket, lying next to an equally wide eyed little Peps, watching rapt with wonder as a kindly old wizard rode his cart into the Shire.

    "And here I thought only Enchanters had the nerve to claim they arrived precisely when they meant to," Morgan quipped back, a smile tugging at her lips.

    "And yeah, the haircut's new. Had to get the side's shaved for the tattoos and decided I liked it. But, if you got new ink, I wanna see it. And you gotta tell me the stories behind them, too. What's ink without a meaning, right?"

  13. #8
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Presance
    (Volatile)
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    Allies
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose


    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.

    Nimbus

    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.
    Stats

    Health:
    Backlash:
    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Vulgar
    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

    2
    PRE

    Laughter returned, barking and cracked. Memories replaying on a film behind her eyes, small arms smelling like hydrogen peroxide, and holding a map of band aids. "Think it'd be worth it to learn some of gross of the angel wings, if I could pop off a dragon sparkler whenever I wanted?" she asks, a smirk plying her lips, before she snorts, "Hey, I'm half an Enchanter, and 'sides, said wizards. All inclusive like."

    "Musta hurt like a bitch." she draws close again, eyes, dancing over the subtle, and the ink. "Suits you." she breathes, noticing the placement, the curve, how the tattoo fit her sister's head. The subject mater sparking her muse, long before she could inspect it this closely.

    "Story for a story?" she suggests, dragging her arms out of her jacket, readjusting so it sat on her shoulders, so she didn't have to wedge it between her knees or throw it to the floor. The sweater beneath is drawn up, right arm passed her elbow, left, about there to, the kanji a sharp stamp ringing her left arm, making the characters on the right seem delicate in comparison. "I still don't know what flavour of East Asian I am, but I learned Japanese, on the docket is, Korean and Mandarin, maybe Cantonese too, plus others. But, yeah I liked these phrases. Their lessons. This one -" flashing her right, "I think we both know. It's on my jacket too. But, this one," rubbing the left, fingers tracing the kanji, "Got beat into me a long time ago, the Wilds, well. That's when it got carved into my soul."
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E Life Armour/Life Sight (Duration 4/Sight Pot 1, Shield Pot 6)

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  15. #9
    Morgan's Avatar

    Morgan

    2
    PRE

    "Does this mean you gave up on finding your birth family?" Morgan asked, stepping closer to her sister, hesitating, and then reaching out to grasp one of her hands.

    "Or is this more like, uh, recognizing the cultures that you looked to while you were growing up?"

    Morgan knew it had been hard for Pepita, harder than she'd had it, drifting from home to home, cut off from any hint at her past besides what had been written over her body. Though, the only clue that had given was difference. Stereotypes, exclusion, ignorance. She'd had to shoulder them all. No wonder she'd loved being a part of the Anime Club, why she'd dragged Morgan to the Chinese Lunar New Year festivals, why she'd been obsessed (from Morgan's perspective) with finding her identity.

    Though, Morgan wasn't one to talk. It had been equally a PITA to grow up with the name Arnheid, and she also didn't know where the fuck she'd come from. Sure, she mostly passed for white, and she definitely had that privilege, but there had been times where that hadn't been the case. There was a certain ambiguity that racists loved to pick up on. And while Morgan would die before she sold her DNA to some company, she had her suspicions. She'd been born in Athens Township, MI, which contained the Huron Potawatomi Indian Reservation in part of it. Did she have grandparents that lived there? Cousins, even if distant? She'd never been able to find out.

    Breathing in through her nose, Morgan let Peps' hand go so she could slip off her jacket.

    "You'll have to forgive me, but I don't really remember any Japanese," Morgan admitted as she was shown the tattoos. "Translate for me?"

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  17. #10
    Briar Rose's Avatar
    Presance
    (Volatile)
    Status (Street)
    (Graffiti Artist)
    Allies
    (Street, Criminal)
    Briar Rose


    Apostate Shaman, and known graffiti artist. Normally seen wearing a worn leather jacket, with the kanji for 'Nana korobi, ya oki' written down the arm.

    Nimbus

    Small shapes akin to petals, cascade, shiny ruby in the air, before ending on the ground in a ruddy pool of their own making.
    Stats

    Health:
    Backlash:
    Mana: |
    WP Half Pool: |
    Armor 1/0
    Defense 2 | 3 w/ 2E Life Armour
    Occult 1

    Vulgar
    Active Spells: 2 / 5 | Spell Tolorancy 3

    Personal Spells: Monthly Rits: 2E LifeShield Pot 3, Life Sight Pot 3

    2
    PRE

    "The second, and...the first." A sad smile, rife with remembrance and hopes. Faded dreams and dashed wishes. Sharp realizations and horrifying, grotesques, beautiful truths. She grips the hand tighter, "I kinda found my dad. Dead. By the state." her eyes, spy the whirling, swirls. The mesmerizing colours, and the expert strokes. "He was an artist." comes as a whisper.

    Her eyes, meet her sister's, "I dunno, if I wanna find my mom anymore. I was put in the system 'round when dad was arrested, and people linked his name to his...moniker." she didn't want to know if she was given up to save her from the world knowing she was her father's daughter, or if her mom didn't want the world to know she was willing mother and wife.

    "Did you ever...." she starts, "I mean more then you did? I know you were south...I know a reason why, but. Did you find out something you didn't want to know?" she asks, waiting for the answer, or a blow. Verbal, physical.

    She shakes her head, "Figured I was the only otaku," she smiles, tongue between her teeth. "This, one," the right, running from the crease of her elbow down, "Nana korobi, ya oki, Knocked down seven times, get up eight." she pulls the sleeve down, rubbing on the sweater where the folds had irritated the skin, it takes a moment longer to speak about the one that means more, she didn't want to hide from her sister, but...but.

    "Jaku niku kyō shoku," she murmurs, a rolling gravel in her voice, "The weak are meat, and the strong eat." comes the translation, her eyes, left the ink and turn to the morrigan. Surly, (she hopes and wishes and prays and hates that she is because this is Arnie!) someone with that Truth in their soul will understand.
    Health: | Mana: | Willpower (half pool):
    Monthly Rits: 2E Life Armour/Life Sight (Duration 4/Sight Pot 1, Shield Pot 6)

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