The Shade {Josiah Cole} (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deaths_head) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2023-11-22 10:22 am
deaths_head) wrote in ph_logs2023-11-22 10:22 am
his head's on fire and his heart is burning
Who: The Shade (deaths_head) & Nieve Winslow (icanmakeit)
What:
The Shade's been stewing over something for a while--too long for a damn wind chime.
When:
late November/early December
Where:
Oak & Iron
Warning(s):
None I can think of? Will add if they come up.
I am not good at making things with my hands, not like you.
Those words have been rattling around in his head for weeks upon weeks, never far from his thoughts. The pan flute, the wind chimes--nothing that's been mentioned since. Granted, there's been a hell of a lot going on, but when his hand is left idle, he's found himself sketching ideas. When he hasn't got a face left in his head to carve out of whatever bit of wood finds his fingers wrapped around it, he's been whittling everything from penny whistles to recorders. Anything that the air can sound upon.
The air...or the breath...
The notion brings him back to the library a few times, sends him hunting in the woods, and when he's got something he likes he leaves a note under Nieve's door one morning.
Oak & Iron, lunch. Need to talk to you.
When she arrives, she'll find the Shade folded into a chair at a table near the back--not uncommon for him, here or when he's met her in their world. When she reaches him, she'll find him with a pan flute he's working on, carefully measuring the width before setting a penknife against one of the tubes to carve a symbol into it before blowing a gentle breath across the opening to check the note.
Rather than the hollow song of the reed it appears to be fashioned from, a deeper note plays--one that almost can't be heard, but will resonate in Nieve's chest with a tone that ignites pure dread.
deaths_head) & Nieve Winslow (icanmakeit)What:
The Shade's been stewing over something for a while--too long for a damn wind chime.
When:
late November/early December
Where:
Oak & Iron
Warning(s):
None I can think of? Will add if they come up.
I am not good at making things with my hands, not like you.
Those words have been rattling around in his head for weeks upon weeks, never far from his thoughts. The pan flute, the wind chimes--nothing that's been mentioned since. Granted, there's been a hell of a lot going on, but when his hand is left idle, he's found himself sketching ideas. When he hasn't got a face left in his head to carve out of whatever bit of wood finds his fingers wrapped around it, he's been whittling everything from penny whistles to recorders. Anything that the air can sound upon.
The air...or the breath...
The notion brings him back to the library a few times, sends him hunting in the woods, and when he's got something he likes he leaves a note under Nieve's door one morning.
Oak & Iron, lunch. Need to talk to you.
When she arrives, she'll find the Shade folded into a chair at a table near the back--not uncommon for him, here or when he's met her in their world. When she reaches him, she'll find him with a pan flute he's working on, carefully measuring the width before setting a penknife against one of the tubes to carve a symbol into it before blowing a gentle breath across the opening to check the note.
Rather than the hollow song of the reed it appears to be fashioned from, a deeper note plays--one that almost can't be heard, but will resonate in Nieve's chest with a tone that ignites pure dread.
no subject
He remains silent until he's satisfied with his recarving of the rune, then shoves the pan flute towards her.
"You find me a cup of tea that'll keep me awake like a good cup of joe, and we can have your all-fired tea. Till then? Coffee." he continues, discreetly accepting her invitation even as it unfurls that knot in his chest and loosens something deep in his bones.
"Meantime, you take that 'n put it up at your place. See how well it works--should play a tune with a visitor and that sour note I blew if someone means you ill. If you like it, but you're still hell bent on them wind chimes, I got a few ideas there, too. Same construction, but free-swingin' for something a little less overtly supernatural."
no subject
"You do know I could probably take you now, right?" She hums with a considering look, almost as if he should consider it too.
She looks away then, glancing down at his offering after he agrees to have coffee and tea together. Which pleases her too and there is no way of hiding the small smile that flits across her lips. Of course, it could be because of the work he has done which she can't help but admire the pan flute, thinking it would be easy to make into wind chimes. "I think you should make a set just to see while I try this at my place."
Then she focuses her dark eyes on him again, softening her smile. "Thank you, Shade."