orb ; rebirth 19

[sorcerous]

[ The orb rises and follows as Loki leaps from one tree to another, lighting on a strong branch and bracing himself with a palm against the bark.

There's quite a din of whinnying and hoofbeats in the background.

His voice is utterly calm: ]

Gretel -- sorceress. It seems my day is somewhat preoccupied. I won't be able to meet with you after all.

[ A smash of splintering wood; Loki flinches. More of a twitch, really.

He raises his eyes heavenward, in exasperation, and reaches out for the orb.

It avoids his fingers. ]

Oh, in the name of --

[ Visible, now, is a horse just a few feet below him, a brown one, enraged. Possibly familiar to some as the horse that rampaged through town earlier. And she has a little, ridiculous hat braced between her ears. ]



ooc; responses may be from Loki, and they may be from rampaging horse!Sif. Or both.

Comments

[shiromadoushi]

[[...oh hey. It was that horse]]

Are you going to be all right?

[[Not... that he had any idea what he could do to help... but he felt he should be able to do something... right?]]

[sorcerous]

The Lady Sif could take a fair few lessons in reining in her temper.

[shiromadoushi]

[[blink blink. Wait a second...]]

You mean that horse is her?!

no wonder she was so mad....!

What happened?

[sorcerous]

A curse most foul.

[greatsquirrelhunter]

Loki needs help?

[sorcerous]

I have this well in hand.

[greatsquirrelhunter]

[Faolan "hmm"s as he considers the video from the orb.] Doesn't look like.

[sorcerous]

Never let it be said that the Lady Sif makes a demure and docile steed.

[brosif]

[The tree shakes rather violently, in testament to that fact. If he's not going to get this hat off of her, she'll knock it off herself. And then kill him.

Hey Faolan.]

[ladysarmour]

Is the creature unwell?

[sorcerous]

She is upset.

[ladysarmour]

But what could have upset her so? [ The direwolves often set other animals into such a state, but Lady is in the castle, with Sansa, not out in the wood. ]

[sorcerous]

I cannot fathom.

[consultmybooks]

[...Giles just...stares at this tableau for several seconds.

And then, as the horse comes into view, he takes off his glasses with great care and then facepalms.]

Thought for sure we'd left that bloody hat in the grass...

[sorcerous]

So it's a persistent little hex, then.

[consultmybooks]

Cursed objects generally are.

Still. It, it should still be easy enough to shake off, at least. She'll, um, probably have it off again soon enough.

[sorcerous]

Pity. I'd hoped it would have a bit more staying power -- only undone by a creature not the victim of the curse, for instance.

[halfwitch]

It's okay. Maybe sometime soon though?

Why is your horse mad?

[sorcerous]

She is not mine. Likely the root of her ire.

[halfwitch]

Oh, why do is she with you than?

[sorcerous]

I would venture that her anger keeps her here.

[folklorist]

[ Helios has only been here a few hours and it's something of a problem when you see someone who looks eerily like your older abusive brother making a transmission over the orbs. There is a sharp intake of breath from him. He has half a mind to not ask his question for fear of rebuttal but that horse does look like it needs assistance. He'll swallow thickly and looking away slightly as he tentatively ventures to asking: ]

Wh-what happened?

[ Pay no attention to his horribly hidden tone of mingled fear and hesitancy. He is just sort of...going to assume you're not Nero, yes, you're not otherwise there would have been words by now. Also his brother doesn't posses such strength nor is the voice the same. ]

[sorcerous]

[ An unfamiliar voice, but the tone Loki knows. He turns cool green eyes on the orb. ]

Were it any of your affair, I would have addressed you.

[folklorist]

[ Just a flinch on his end. But, no, Helios bites his lip on his end. ] I-I apologize. It's, it's not my place to-to say. Y-You just seemed to be in need of, of s-some help.

[sorcerous]

I did not ask for it.

[ Not that he would, if he actually did need it. ]

And I would not ask it of a stranger.

[ Unless he had a way to get his claws into that stranger, after. ]