[ тωєиту-тняєє ]

[unflagging]

[Video Post;]
[It is late evening. The recording begins, but little can be seen except the silhouettes of corn stalks and red twilight behind them. The corn stalks rustle and sway when the wind blows.

Then come footsteps, clicky-clocky, crunching along in the dirt between the rows. And by the sound of them, one has to wonder if anything will grow where those feet fall. The corn stalks glide past. Even-metered, the footsteps count out a rhythm, as they always do.

Then comes a man's voice, singing low and dark:]

...hunted like a crocodile...ravaged in the corn...

[Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

The voice again, low and dark:]

"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

[Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Crunching footsteps...

Then, low and dark as the singing, the song is picked up with whistling. Low and dark, low and dark. The corn stalks glide past, silhouetted against a red twilight.]
[//video post ends]

[ooc: Canon references, for those who want them. And if you would like to encounter someone who may or may not actually be He Who Walks Behind the Rows (no, really: the jury's kind of still out on this one), please feel free. Just expect creepy creeping.]

Comments

[valentineluke]

[Senses magical quickening above. Corn blockade at the tunnel's entrance isn't what stops him from going Topside. Could easily slash thru the stalks, but whatever is 'cooking', not done yet.

Hears the tune. Feels it a fitting melody for his midnight wait. Joins in, matching his notes to the unseen whistler's.]

[unflagging]

[It's not hard to hear that there's an echo in here (an echo in here (an echo in here)). Who's whistling and why--it hardly matters. But, really, tsk tsk, whistling after dark brings the demons out. Everybody knows that.

He slows, gliding between the rows. He could drop further and truly glide. He'll consider it. There's nothing yet to stalk, so why drop further and truly stalk with nothing to watch? What pleasure in that, save imagination? But he slows, gliding between the rows, remembering most excellent well other fields in other times and other places.]

"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

[valentineluke]

[Luke's one of the things lurking in the night, of course he'll whistle.

Below in the tunnel, he senses approaching presence. Whether it's the spreading fog of magic over the City or a masking of themselves, Luke can't identify who/what (now dubbed) 'Whistler' is. No visual either since corn blockade is too thick to see thru. Scent? - working on it. Voice? Unfamiliar.]

[Calls to Whistler.] Please, go on. Like to hear the full song.

[unflagging]

[A low, throaty laugh--as much near on to growl as to laugh, but unmistakably a laugh all the same.]

[valentineluke]

[Replies with one of his own. Starts human and ends bemused big cat.]

Member of the visiting coven?

[unflagging]

[With a smile to the voice:]

And what if I am?

[valentineluke]

Place could use some new blood.

[unflagging]

I'm afraid I'm far too old to be new blood.

[valentineluke]

Not too old for shaking things up a bit?

[unflagging]

Perhaps not.

[valentineluke]

Stay here awhile, if possible.

[unflagging]

We'll see, we'll see.

There'll be water in the desert, if God wills it.

action; give me all the creepy

[sleepingstar]

[It wouldn't be accurate to say that Pai is enjoying herself in the cornmaze. But it gives her something to do. She explores the maze, trying to find a pattern in the way it changes, even though she knows that none exists. She's at the point where any puzzle, no matter how pointless, helps ease her apathy.

When she hears the singing, she follows the sound, curious to find the source.]

action;

[unflagging]

[Seek it out, seek it out. There are footsteps down somewhere between the rows and whistling the dark. Seek it out. Can you find it?]

action;

[sleepingstar]

[Pai hunts the sound down without making any noise of her own. It's strangely relaxing, being on the hunt. Her skin tingles with electricity, ready to strike if necessary.]

action;

[unflagging]

[Nothing to see down this row. Just a crow that flaps up to a cornstalk for a better perch and vantage-point. Nothing to see here.]

action;

[sleepingstar]

[Did the whistling stop? She retraces her steps to see if she can catch it again.]

action;

[unflagging]

[Naturally, it starts up again--a little farther away this time, but still near enough...]

[sleepingstar]

[Pai follows the sound, wondering if someone is watching and toying with her. She discretely looks around to see if there is anyone -- or anything -- around to observe her.]

[unflagging]

[Nothing. Again, nothing. Only a shadow between the cornstalks, a little darkness between the rows.]

[sleepingstar]

[Nothing appears to be watching her... but Pai knows, the way that a wild animal does, that she is being observed. Seemingly the mouse being toyed with by a cat. It wouldn't be the first time.]

[unflagging]

[The whistling starts up again. Very nearby.]

[sleepingstar]

[Can she catch it?]

[unflagging]

[How does one catch a passing shadow? The whistling seems to move on the wind between the rows.]

[sleepingstar]

[You don't. And the longer it goes on like this, the less interested Pai gets. It was a pointless game to begin with, but if it's absolutely impossible to win, why bother playing?]

[unflagging]

[Because it's at this moment that a man steps out from around a corner--not whistling, but a newcomer on the scene.

He stops, looks at her, smiles.]

Hey! You okay, kid?

[sleepingstar]

I'm fine. [She studies him quietly, wondering if he's the source of the whistling.]

[unflagging]

Okay... I just thought I heard you thrashing around in the corn and thought you might be in trouble.

[sleepingstar]

There wasn't any thrashing in the corn.

[unflagging]

You sure about that?

[sleepingstar]

Yes. [She's a Contractor; she's not going to doubt her own senses.]

[unflagging]

Whatever you say, kid.

[And he turns to walk away...whistling as he does.]

[sleepingstar]

[That whistling... So he's the one. Pai trails along behind him, neither attempting to be discreet nor to be obvious. She has no actual agenda in following him -- there's just nothing better to do. And she is, maybe, a little curious.]

[unflagging]

[He looks over his shoulder, stops whistling, but keeps walking.]

You following me, kid?

[sleepingstar]

We're walking in the same direction. [aka Yes.]

[unflagging]

We sure are. Do you know where we're going?

[sleepingstar]

No.

[unflagging]

Good thing I do, then.

[sleepingstar]

Where are you going?

[unflagging]

Just here.

[And he stops and turns.]

[sleepingstar]

What's here?