2020-12-04: Where e'er the march of time is flaunted - Underhill meets Parker
| Where e'er the march of time is flaunted[1] - Underhill meets Parker | |
|---|---|
| Eyes in the dark comes to visit the Underhill Funeral Home again, helps Lochlan cleanup after a funeral | |
| IC Date | December 5th, 2020 |
| IC Time | late afternoon |
| Players | Lochlan Underhill & Parker, aka Eyes-in-the-Dark |
| Location | Underhill Funeral Home |
| Spheres | Changeling & Shifter |
| Theme Song | Wall to Wall Cobwebs by Buckethead |
Not for the first time since late October, Eyes-in-the-Dark infiltrates the walls along the halls of Underhill Funeral Home, with spiders in various nooks and crannies watching to be sure that this time there are no patrons waiting to see her greet the mortician as there have been the many times she had to leave unseen rather than visiting with the oooky cooky man.
It seems that the final service for the evening has just finished winding down. Lochlan waves quietly from the front door to the last of the visitors for the Anderson wake, before closing the door and going about the business of cleaning up after his guests. There is a fine vein of contentedness to his normally macabre aura as he begins closing folding chairs in one of the viewing rooms.
As the chair folding commences an extremely large spider of a normally small-sized species lowers its way from the ceiling towards the floor stopping at roughly eye-level for the Sluagh mortician and wriggles its legs at the end of the thread of silk extending from its abdomen upwards. Once eye contact is made it will continue towards the floor or a nearby chair.
"Ah. Ms. Eyes-in-the-Dark. How good it is to see you again. At least, I assume that it is you and I have not been visited by another unusual spider..." Lochlan whispers as he continues folding chairs, "I don't suppose you would mind lending me a hand or eight with folding these chairs?"
With an invitation like that the scattered mass of spiders rush into the center of the room, many coming in along the floor or down the original spider's thread until they are in close enough proximity to each other and shifts into the drider form she assumed last time. Having now assumed a form that can speak she says, "I can do that, would this form be acceptable or would you prefer something less... disturbing if someone needed to return to the room?"
"The door is locked, and none of the other employees will be working in the funeral home this late unless I call for them," the funereal looking young man whispers, "Whatever form makes you most comfortable. I understand how tiring it can be to wear a mask."
"I think that I'll cause less chaos without an abdomen and all these legs," she says as she folds one chair while knocking two others down with said abdomen. Her form blurs into a mass of spiders again and then quickly this transitions into a five and a quarter foot tall woman.
Initially she is standing there nude but then, coming out of the black torc around her neck just like in drider form, a flotilla of white spiritual spiderlngs exit the jewelry and weave an outfit consisting of a pair of black leggings with a green and black plaid asymmetrical skirt attached with a black bandeau bra clearly visible under a transparent, long sleeved, pale green shirt. The folded chair started to fall, pivoting on the two legs touching the floor, while she was just a mass of spiders but the human form quickly catches it again and, as she walks to put it away, she says, "All of my forms are me, I am equally at home in all of them."
Lochlan doesn't avert his one good eye as the spider woman transforms, though if his gaze is at all appraising, it is in a cold and clinical way. Like he just figured out what size coffin he might bury her in one day, rather than anything more... human. "Ahhh..." he whispers, "What a rare gift. I might spend all of eternity bouncing between madness and modernity without ever finding such balance."
Returning from putting the first chair up, Parker picks up one of the chairs that she knocked over and hands it Lochlan picking up the other after he takes it from her. Her response shows that she doesn't really understand the Fae as she asks, "Madness and modernity?" as one who hasn't heard such a phrase ever before.
Lochlan takes the chairs and stacks them as Parker hands them to him, "The two halves of my soul," he whispers without further explanation, "But I go on about myself too much. How have you been? Are you finding this quaint little town to your liking?"
Parker nods. "Yes," she replies further explaining, "I've been collecting quite a cast of characters across Prospect over the past month and a half."
"Caught them in your web, have you?" Lochlan teases quietly. His normal tone is usually either too manic or too morose to tell if it was an attempt at humor, with today leaning towards amicably somber.
Chuckling, Parker says, "Perhaps you could say that. Connecting point to point and gathering favors, information and understandings with those connections. How have you and your dearly departed sibling been doing, Mr. Underhill?"
"We have been very good. We are both employed in a business that will always be booming..." Once the chairs are folded, Lochlan looks over the room and smiles wanly. "Thank you for the assistance. Would you care for some tea?"
"Sounds good, what flavors do you have in mind?" she replies with a counter question of her own.
"I'm not really sure what we have in the kitchen. My own preferred blend is off putting to most living creatures, or so I am told. Lets go have a look..." Lochlan whispers before leading the way to the kitchen... where tea brewing and other crazy hi-jinks before everyone goes their separate ways.
- ↑ Quoted from This Place is Haunted
