Gwenivelle pulls up in a beat up grey Excel, leaning either way to make sure she's at the right intersection.
This will be so much fun. It's been way too long since there's been an Eye she could just hang out with.
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Gwenivelle pulls up in a beat up grey Excel, leaning either way to make sure she's at the right intersection.
This will be so much fun. It's been way too long since there's been an Eye she could just hang out with.
There were two types of magic societies. Those who were black robes and those that wore white. And the damn modernist that said that normal clothes would do just fine. As holes. Extra silver jewelery always worked.
According from the briefing this group wore black, when they didn't go sky clad. She paused the old Incubus succubus tape that been running on the old car stereo on the way here to get in the mood. All feminine and empowered.
She wore a long black robe, that with her slim tall figure mage her feel like of the movie version Death from Discworld. A number of silver rings decorated her fingers, motives ranging from pentagrams to oroboros. Yet her bearing almost seemed regal and proud.
Tvivel, or tonight Emma Svensson aka Sister Raven Moonheart smile at her companion.
"I can feel Mother Earth power tonight." She remarked to her sister with absolute conviction.
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Tvivel opens the door and it sounds like someone wrenched an arm out of it's socket. AUGH! That popping noise!.
The car interior is a strange felt gray, with a beaded seat cover over the drivers seat and a half dozen strings of beads and concert lanyards hanging from the mirror. A cardboard box in the back seat has what looks like posters and empty folders. Other than that, just a few cigarette burns, which seem old.
Gwenny quit when she started being able to see the future.
Speaking of which... "Oh my fucking God. You look awesome slash hilarious!" The Acanth snorts, if there was room to fall off of her seat laughing, she would have.
She's dressed up, sure. Black jeans, a frilly black blouse, a bangle or two and a necklace of fake ginseng root. Tonight though, she's got nothing on Tvivel.
"Oh they are going to love you. Hell, I love you for this." Her foot slams on the gas, and the car peals out digging Tvivel into her seat with a flutter of Adrenaline.
"Earth mother be PRAISED!" She hollers out the open window with a fist pump.
“May we rise in the dark richness of our Mothers soil, beloved sister” Tvivel said athame gleaming in her moon belt. No laughing. Dead serious. She strengthened her robes when she sat down, laughed and shrugged. Dismissing her own clothes-
“Bah. It's not really Mensa we're paying a visit. But trust me I got a grab for that as well.” Looking out the car window op perhaps still watching her companions reflection.
“We got into a silent prestige fight over Mensa for a few week two years back over Mensa, during a truce back home. Gee. That's was really just a completion of who could seem most normal, well adapted. Shiny name, completely worthless.” Especially compared to losing control of the Noble Prize Committee.
There was silence for a while while Tvivel played with the tin silver chain. Distant until she sighted.
“Shit. Just like riding a bike right?” It been a while.
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Jimmy Hendrix' All Along the Watchtower blasts from of all things, a cassette player, as Gwen nods to Tvivel speaking.
The red headed witch's manners of speech are engrossing, but difficult for Gwenivelle to follow. "I dunno whether you're talking about the Genius club or the red tide, but as long as you've done this before, I'm happy."
She kissed her fist once and punches the roof of her car, a gesture which apparently signals her intention to run a red light. Zoom! Oh shit, HONK. Ehhhhh, screw him, there was like ten feet of room.
"It's a university town, so some of these women are pretty smart. Not Mensa smart, but at least Menses smart." The Religious Studies and Women's Studies Departments of Sac State and USac had full or part time professors in fairly regular attendance, and they take the Coven seeeeeriously.
"As long as we keep them barking up the bullshit tree, they can't come knocking at our doors, you know? Yea, of course, I'm sorry you've probably been doing this longer than I have."
Gwen turns the music down as the car turns into the parking lot of a community center, looking for the best spot to park.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows, as keeping Gwen confused always been her attention. Or as that just were a playful excuse. It was easier to shake things off now. This was work. Even Tvivel fragile excuse of an ego shut up a while to get the job done. None of this was personal, guardian shouldn't be.
She glances over at Gwenivelle as she punches the roof an mild curiosity, and realization clicks in and Tvivels eyes widen.
Like a cat facing a bunch of dogs she pressed as hard and as high against the seat as possible, with a hand clutching the door and the other the edge of the seat she holds her breath, hoping she will live long enough to draw another.
Seconds pass. “...satan...” Beyond that there is no complaint about her driving style.
“Eh. Where were we? ...Who needs fact when there is fiction? They want a brake from the intellectual life an feel. Gut level experience.” … They should go driving with Gwen, her insides told her as she tried to relax her grip of the car door. She couldn't really respect their search. The perspective spiritual need of sleepers got a bit fuck up for anyone who given a glimpse of pandemonium.
Inhale, exhale. Believe in the crap.
Once Gwen parked the long legged individual getting out was a lioness. The gray mouse hidden away somewhere inside.
“So. Should we call someone to have them let us in, or do they leave the door open?”
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"Naaaaah, it's open." All events held at the Community Center are supposed to be open to the public after all. Part of their mission statement.
"I guess a few people were worried it was going to rain tonight, so we can't do a Divining Circle tonight. I think it's more of a Q&A for new members." Gwenivelle pulls the door open and leads Tvivel down a grungy hallway.
There is a mural painted on the wall, faces of all different colors and creeds, presumably living in harmony. But the painting was clearly constructed by children, faces are poorly defined, menacing and alien and incongruous. The overhead tiles are stained coffee brown ugly from a leaking roof, and the lights flicker like an old dog trying to climb a flight of stairs.
"Okay, room 117, this is it." The flimsy wooden door has a small rectangular glass porthole, as if built with the intention of being installed in a submersible. Tvivel follows her fellow Guardian into the sparse room, a circle of women seated in small plastic chairs, half of which are empty. The seated chairs contain women of varying sizes, shapes and ages, several dolled up similarly to Tvivel, but more than a few opting for more muted colors. This divide falls mostly along an age gap.
Regardless, there are a lot of beads.
Stepping in she took in the room as it been sunlight long denied her and then burst into a smile of unlimited gentleness.
“Hi. The sight of you bring me joy. I'm Raven, Emma or Ms Svensson. I am happy with whatever name you chose to call me. I feel humble and grateful for the opportunity to share this afternoon in this one of our many lived with you.” She said with the type of warm blind convictions it usually took thousands and thousands of dollar spent on courses, aura readings, ecological bananas and meditative retreats to archive.
She pressed her hands together and bowed to the circle.
“Namaste.” Sort of translates to: 'The God/Goddess Spirit within me recognizes and honors the God/Goddess Spirit within you. 'She said closing her eyes in an expression of silent joy.
“Namaste to you sister for bringing me here.” She said, smiling at Gwen kindly touching her shoulder.
Before she made her way round the circle to meat their gaze, touch each one of them gently and exchange kind warm and enthusiastic words. That smile echoing that deep profound joy never fading.
Please note: This is hard gritty realism.
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Tvivel receives a 'Namaste' or two in greeting, but mostly she is granted the unspoken approval of the assembled Sisters Covens of Sacramento.
The group leadership immediately recognizes the danger that such a vivacious and promising youth could fall under the sway of the heretical New Easterly Covens, paperback hacks that they are. After all, there's some rumor that Allaura May, the girl that brought her today has been attending other Circle's meetings.
A feisty woman with close cropped hair and Native American 'inspired' patterned dress takes the lead in welcoming Tvivel, informing her that Emma would be the most convenient name to call her, as the group already has two Ravens. She hints that the matter has been one of contention, with a flick of her eyes to two younger women sitting at odds in the three o'clock and eight o'clock positions.
"Welcome, goddess bless you." She finishes.
Gwenivelle points one finger at herself during a moment of the introductory small talk to indicate that she is Allaura May in this context.
"Let us begin by channeling the Earth Mother's energies!" Lady Rowina exclaims.
"I can feel the flow of the Earth Mother!" Moira chimes in, eyes closed and focused on the sensation of early-stage carotid blockage that she mistakes for the brush of primal energy.
"There's a lot of power in this room," Elphi wheezes, one eye peeking in the hopes that the new arrival is looking at her.
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