All forests are magic.

[daughterofclay]

Who: Jude and YOU
Where: Various
When: backdated to sometime in late August
What: unorthodox gardening and party games, not at the same time
Warnings: underage drinking


SRS PROMPT

Somewhere within the Magicademy grounds, under a tree that looks like it’s on fire, there sits a Jude. Her familiar, Silverfrost, is lounging lazily among the top branches.

She’s concentrating, wand in hand. After a minute, she will start drawing sigils in the air, along with the requisite incantations. Nothing happens for a while -- almost too long a time. Then, suddenly, the red leaves shiver, even though there is no wind on this fine evening. Little by little, the tree begins to...morph -- or rather, grow, specific branches sprouting forth and intertwining with a specific purpose.

It’s the silhouette of a person, though it’s abstract enough to require some interpretation. Still, if you look at it from a certain angle, it’s possible to make out a torso, an arm, an elegant hand resting against the curve of a cheek. The facial features are mere suggestions, but a wreath of leaves winds itself around the sculpture’s head, like a coronet made of rust-stained gold.

Silverfrost gives a soft trill, disturbed from his nap by the movement of branches, and makes his way down to the ground. Which is also the exact moment Jude looks up from her work, her eyes meeting that of her observer. Judging by the sharp look she gives them, she was not expecting company. Judging by the faint flush on her face, she may be... embarrassed?

“...yes?”

----------------
NOT VERY SRS PROMPT

How does Jude end up at these parties? Who knows. More importantly, who cares. She certainly doesn’t, which may be attributable to the fact that she is, for once in her life, quite drunk.

Quite. Drunk.

It also appears as if someone has somehow obtained (stolen? bought? faked?) one of those Intimation Crystals the Sundering Researchers were using for that experiment some time ago. Or at least a device very much like it. The point is, it will light up if you lie, so you shouldn’t lie¹.

Why would this be important? Because currently, the crystal is in Jude’s hand. She sets down her goblet, faces the loose circle of people spread across the room, and pronounces:

“Never have I ever cheated on a test.”

Time to drink up.
_____
^{1. Disclaimer: Crystal may not be a genuine article, approved or tested by magicians who knew what they are doing. Device may require a licensed operator. Improper use may result in false positive readings, ruined nights, drunken fisticuffs, the uncontrollable need to sneeze, stubbed toes, bad hair, and/or death. Please enjoy responsibly.}

[[OOC: So as may be obvious, this is a game of Never Have I Ever! If anyone wants to threadhop around on this prompt and react to other people’s answers/questions, please do! The more chaotic the merrier :>b]]

Comments

[daughterofclay]

She takes the proffered hand. Her handshake is firmer than perhaps necessary. "Jude Duarte."

It's his second suggestion that makes her... well, not start, not quite. Still, there is a certain focused interest in the way she looks at him.

"I've met some, if that's what you mean," she confirms. She's learned by now that other worlds come in all kinds of shapes and configurations, but she's yet to find someone who's familiar with the kind of magic she knows. He doesn't look like a fey (and though looks can be deceiving, she's hard to fool). Was it just a lucky guess on his part?

"Have you ever heard of Faerie?"

[temptationaccomplished]

Had he heard of fairies? He had been called one before, which did not reflect well on the accuser's character. But yes, he had heard of fairies. Who hadn't?

He smiled innocently into that focused interest of hers and shifted under the weight of her stare. Maybe this was not a good idea after all, asking a potentially occult being such telling questions. Aziraphale might have bit off more than he was prepared to handle, especially if she was actually somehow a real fairy. One wily trickster was quite enough in his life, thank you.

"I do live in England; it is practically impossible to not have heard stories of fairies and the fae. The legends are woven into the fabric of the culture. However, I have it on very good authority that some of the work attributed to them might actually be demonic mischief."

[daughterofclay]

[[This is so late, I'm sorry!]]

For what it's worth, Jude looks entirely unremarkable, at least as far as supernatural features are concerned. Rounded ears and everything.

Anyway, he seems... nervous, for some reason. She's not sure what to make it of it (and entirely unaware of the fact that it might be her fault for being unnecessarily intense).

She's not sure what to make of his answer, either.

"Demonic mischief? How do you mean?"

[temptationaccomplished]

[[I'm so behind too, no worries.]]

He awkwardly fumbles his response.

"Well, I mean. Demonic. You know. As in the opposite of Heavenly. As in Down There." He points downward at the ground with a The Place That Shall Not Be Named kind of attitude. "It all sounds very silly, I'm sure, but I'm quite convinced that some of the minor trickery people associate with the Fae--things missing from or appearing in one's home, fairy gold turning to leaves, children swapped at birth," entirely by accident, mind! "--that kind of thing--are actually the work of a demon. But that's- that's beside the point. So...do you know actual fairies?"

[daughterofclay]

There's something vaguely funny about all of this -- this elaborate (and wrong!) explanation for things she's been witness to her whole life. The idea of different worlds doesn't even occur to her right then; clearly there's fey where he's from, and he's just as clearly misattributing magic to... demons.

It's the last thing she'd have expected to hear.

"I'm one of those stolen children," she offers, because he's clearly referring to changelings, right? "So yes. I know some fairies."

[temptationaccomplished]

"My dear, that was a quip about the misplaced AntiChrist. I didn't mean to suggest Crowley would really--"

He gives her another once over now, considering, looking at her in a new light. He can't sense anything Demonic or Angelic about her, but then he supposes he might not. If fairies did exist--somehow, it's all very implausible, or perhaps ineffable--they might be outside the realm of things an Angel could detect. And besides, she could have too faint a fairy aura (a light dusting of fairy ...dust?? from proximity) that he just could not perceive.

It made no sense, but then what ever did?

"--Really. A child stolen by fairies...I have never understood what they stand to gain by all that," he admits. "Maybe you could enlighten me." And politely not ask about the thing with the AntiChrist, he hopes.

[daughterofclay]

"Because mortal children make for good servants. Or pets. Or meat stews. Or because the child's parents made an unwise bargain; or maybe the fairy just happened to feel like it." She shrugs. "The Folk are fickle and easily bored. A human life just doesn't mean much to them."

And that's about as much as she wants to elaborate on that. Which means that, unfortunately for Mr. Fell, it's her turn to ask questions.

"...remind me what the AntiChrist is."

Look, she's been living away from mortal realms for a long time. There's only so much human culture a girl can learn from once-a-month trips to the mall.

[temptationaccomplished]

"Terrible," he manages before her question, because what kind of life would that be for a child? What kind of life did that mean Jude had led, the poor dear?

The question gives him pause because it's been a rather long while since he's had to actually explain what the AntiChrist is. Humans of Earth have been well-aware of the concept for centuries; it haunts their literature and film, and often shows up as accusations in horrible right-wing political propaganda. Her question, then, makes him wonder if he has to first explain what Christ is. She may not have any knowledge of the human religions outside of those that include the fae. So, rather than ramble the entirety of Christian theology at her, he attempts a--what is it called? Those summary guides to literature? A Cliff's Notes version...as best he can.

"Well, he's the opposite of the Christ. The Anti- Christ. Christ, of course, being Jesus, the Son of God, whose death on the cross was to atone for humanity's sins. The AntiChrist is thus in direct opposition of that. He is the son of Satan and was supposed to herald the End of Times." Aziraphale wrinkles up his nose with indecision and then adds, "There was a bit of a fiasco, actually. It's, uh, quite funny in retrospect--now, wasn't so funny at the time, of course--but the newborn AntiChrist was supposed to be switched with the baby of an American politician...and it all went a bit wrong."

[daughterofclay]

She's looking at him a bit oddly -- probably, she supposes, the way people might look at her if she tried to explain Faerie to them. She knows about churches and all of that, obviously -- she's not that sheltered -- but the stuff he's describing sounds almost as fantastical as... well, any other kind of prophecy.

She frowns, opens her mouth, and then seems to think better of what she was going to say. Eventually, she settles on:

"How do you know all of that?"

Because the End of Times or whatever definitely can't be common knowledge, right? People would be more panicked, surely.