03 - Public / Video

[domesheriff]

[Linda is sitting on a bench in the garden when she activates the feed. she's dressed casually in a coat and jeans, though her right hand visibly has a bandage around it. she looks tired, and she's obviously fallen in some mud at some point today as well]

Anybody else having trouble learning to ride their animals? [there's weariness in her tone. but a thought occurs to her then, and she adds:] Are many people going to be in the race? I know it's optional.

[while the mud is a result of her rocky attempts to learn to ride a "yoshi," her burned hand isn't. it's been a busy day, starting with testing forcefields with Agent K to try to find one like the dome followed by her riding session on the farm. needless to say, relaxing for a bit chatting with friends strikes her as a good way to end an exhausting day]

Comments

[impossibilities]

I have never been a very good rider, myself. I do not know why I am even doing this.

[How she got pulled into the race herself, she's still investigating, but Grainne's falls were far more messy than painful.]

How are you doing, Linda?

[domesheriff]

Hey, Grainne. [Linda is surprised to see her. even at this point, she's no less confused about what Grainne told her the last time they spoke, but she's decided to take it all at face value for now. it seems the easiest way to handle things] What are you riding for the race?

[at that question, she sighs] I'm pretty tired. It's been a long day, and I didn't realize I'd be so bad at riding.

What about you?

[impossibilities]

[She nods, understanding of the feeling.]

It does take a lot of practice and sore spots.

[And there goes a faint blush at the questions, answering both at once.]

A giant cat of some sort. I am not sure of the name. He's quite contrary... he goes left instead of right and sits down when it is time to go. Very much like a tiny cat...

[domesheriff]

Definitely. [she makes a face; she's sure she's going to be sore later, too]

That does sound like a cat. [and pretty frustrating to ride, at that] Good luck with it. Are you able to stay on it okay, at least?

[impossibilities]

I am small enough and the cat is large, so there is no trouble staying on. [She makes a face.] Just making him go.

Would you care for some company, Linda?

[domesheriff]

Well, at least that's something. [because Grainne is definitely doing better than Linda so far]

[she's surprised by the offer, but she nods, smiling] Sure, that'd be nice. Do you want to come to the gardens, or should I meet you somewhere?

[impossibilities]

I am already in the gardens, so I shall go that way.

[The picture seems to be moving now, the background sliding by as if she were on a boat.]

How are you settling in?

[domesheriff]

Oh, I'm doing fine. Work keeps me busy.

[Linda stays put, figuring the static backdrop will make her easier to find] How have you been?

[impossibilities]

[Grainne smiles and glances off camera. It seems to be easier to do that lately.]

I spend most of my time hunting hostiles and gathering plant samples, and it can be boring work. I am fine otherwise. I would give anything for a good storyteller though.

[domesheriff]

[firmly, she says:] Boring but helpful. [she sighs] But I know what you mean. [because her own job can get monotonous as well, especially when she's just out keeping animals away from the fence]

Storyteller? [she frowns at Grainne's word choice] You mean...a good book?

[impossibilities]

[Linda's visible now in person, so Grainne puts away the tablet and approaches closer before answering.]

A bard, or a minstrel, or even a poet. I have been missing the excitement a good storyteller can incite in an audience. I have read books, but it is... a solo activity, no gestures or emotion to get caught up in the telling of it. Television is amazing, but... it does not have the same spark.

[domesheriff]

[Linda smiles, giving Grainne a wave with her bandaged hand from where she sits] Hey.

Oh. [she has to remind herself about what Grainne said about being so old. it didn't occur to her at first that she'd meant it literally] I guess I've never heard one to know what you mean, but that does sound like something you can't find just anywhere.

[impossibilities]

That is a sad thing, I think, if storytelling has been lost to time. Once there were bards and storytellers by the dozens all across Europe.

[Grainne returns the wave with one of her own, and she sits down nearby.]

My father-in-law was the god of love and poetry for our land. The stories told in his halls had a way of changing people.

[domesheriff]

[she frowns] I've...never really thought about it. [she's not sure what else to say. Grainne already made her point about television, after all, and Linda tends to keep herself busy enough that she doesn't do a lot of TV-watching or reading, so she doesn't see any reason to try to refute her]

[at Grainne's description, though, she blinks, wondering briefly if she could possibly meaning "god" literally--and then deciding that she must not. that seems too far-fetched ever for this place]

[but, her curiosity piqued, she asks:] Do you know any of them?

[impossibilities]

[She thinks for a moment, wondering if she did really remember anything from that time. It's still difficult to think about, and difficult to remember after months of trying to forget.]

A few, I think. It's been a long time. What's your favorite story, Linda?

[domesheriff]

[Linda thinks about that for a minute] I don't know... For that kind of story, maybe...Beauty and the Beast? [because thinking about stories she heard out loud makes her think of fairy tales from her childhood]

What about you?

[impossibilities]

Hm, I do not know anymore. I once liked the story of Deidre of the Sorrows, but I am not as naive as I used to be. Maybe it is the Little Mermaid now. It is a recent one, written by a Danish man, I think?

[domesheriff]

I don't know that one...

[but she looks amused at Grainne's comment about the "recent" story] Not exactly new anymore, but I'm not sure the version I know is the original one. Still, you're right--it's a good story.

[impossibilities]

You do not know Deidre's story? [Grainne smiles softly.] I do not know Beauty and the Beast yet. Would you mind telling it to me? I would tell you Deidre's.

[domesheriff]

[she looks a little surprised by the request, but she smiles] Sure, why not? But don't expect me to be like a storyteller, all right? [she looks amused at the thought]

So who goes first?

[impossibilities]

There's merit in any story told. [She gives a slight shrug.] I can go first, if you like.

[domesheriff]

[Linda nods, glad because that will at least give her an idea of how Grainne does this] Okay. [she shifts, relaxing against the back of the bench to listen] Let's hear it.

[impossibilities]

[Grainne clears her throat and stands up walking a ways away as if she were about to recite something, which wasn't too far off the mark really.

To add to the flavor, she shifts into her Caster dress, minus the cloak and veil.

It had been a long time since Grainne had even heard the story in her first life, so she isn't too sure how well she would do here at remembering the details.]

A long time ago, when our forefathers were barely a gleam in the eye of their fathers, there was a mighty king named Conchobar, of Ulster. Some said he ruled with a fair hand, others said a just hand, some said he was arrogant, or greedy, or many numbers of things. It depended on who you ask.

At the same time, there was a babe born, a sweet little girl as fair as the sun rise. A prophecy came about that this babe would grow up to be the most... most beautiful girl in the kingdom.

[Grainne's voice cracks a little, but she clears her throat as if to cover it.]

Conchobar said, if she is to be the most beautiful, then it is only natural she would be my wife. And he sent her to live with a caretaker, so that none may see her beauty before it was time and want them for themselves, and she would live there until she came of age.

[She pauses to gauge Linda's reaction.]

[domesheriff]

[Linda's eyes widen when Grainne's outfit changes. she almost asks about it, but Grainne is clearly setting up a mood, so she thinks better of interrupting]

[and when Grainne pauses, she is frowning, listening in interest. though she hasn't heard this story before, she's heard one like it, and she wonders where it will go. from Grainne's comment about naivete, she hopes that means a happy ending]

[impossibilities]

[Oh, Linda.]

[Grainne takes the look of interest as a sign to continue.]

The girl's name was Deirdre. Leabharcham, the old woman Conchobar had given the child to to raise, one day foretold her young charge Deirdre would love a man strong of heart, with hair as dark as a raven's feather, skin whiter than the mountain's snow, and lips red as blood. Deirdre thought on this for many days, wondering what such a man would be like.

Now, Leabharcham, being a wise woman, knew that Conchobar would never be a fit mate for a girl so young and beautiful. Deirdre owned her own heart, and only those she deemed worthy should have it. Leabharcham loved her as a daughter and wanted her to be happy. And she knew of a young man that fit those words exactly.

He was Naoise, the nephew of the king, with the arm of a mighty hunter yet could sing sweeter than a bird.

Leabharcham sent for Naoise secretly, and, feigning an illness, sent Deirdre out in her place to fetch some water. Being a clever one, she had arranged for the two to meet.

[She trails off, trying to remember the rest of the story. It had been such a long time since she heard anyone tell it, her mind went in seach for the details and any little bits she could remember. Some of it didn't seem right so far, but without hearing it again, she couldn't be sure.]