"This is stupid," John muttered, fingering the peculiar little item he'd brought with him as he eyed the strange (and in some cases disturbingly symbolic) collection of oddities that already adorned the thing.
He had walked past the tree without pausing several times before noticing the sign, and had shaken his head at Adam's overly-trusting nature. With the mixed assortment of Beings who occupied the Manor, and anyone able to wander in and out, who knew what might get left under the tree in the guise of an innocent gift?
It was that thought more than anything that had inspired him to dig out a handful of tools and mementoes and cobble them together into the ornament (well, more of an amulet really, but it could pass for an ornament if not examined too closely) that he now carefully suspended in an inconspicuous spot low and toward the back of the tree.
Two feathers--one a faintly shimmering white, one midnight-black--were lashed together in the middle, forming an extended X. Both were a little dry and fragile now, having been picked up as an afterthought fifteen years before, but he had preserved them carefully; he wasn't likely to get his hands on another like the black one, and the white one, as far as he knew, was now the only one of its kind that still existed.
Suspended under them by its rawhide drawtrings was a small leather sack containing a variety of small semi-precious gemstones, dried herbs, and a few less pleasant items, all carefully chosen for their complementary protective properties.
The drawstrings also threaded through a piece of origami in the shape of a five-pointed star. The paper was shiny gold, but only on one side; John had put two pieces together back-to-back so that no white would show. Written on the plain side of one sheet, folded safely away where no one would see, were several names (some belonging to beings who inhabited the Manor, and others who were elsewhere...one very far away) and a number of esoteric runes and diagrams. All pertained to matters of peace, prosperity and good fortune, the sorts of things one wished one's friends around this time of year.
He stood back from the tree and eyed the glimmering object with a dissatisfied grimace. Why he was even bothering with such a paltry thing in a place chock-full of beings whose power so thoroughly eclipsed his own small talents he had no idea.
Still...it couldn't hurt. Right?
Under the tree he set a very old, slightly dusty bottle of wine with a bow tied around its neck and a tag marked with two names. Almost the last drop of Brendan Finn's grand collection, the rest having been drunk to Brendan's memory or traded away for other needed things in a pinch. It was a wrench, letting it go, but hell...he had nobody to share it with, and considering the price the old boy had been prepared to pay for the stuff, he'd have wanted someone to enjoy it who would appreciate what they were drinking.
Wondering idly what else might turn up on or under the tree before Christmas Eve, John wandered off to the bar in search of some holiday cheer, or failing that, a properly soggy state of depression.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2005-12-09 11:01 pm (UTC)He had walked past the tree without pausing several times before noticing the sign, and had shaken his head at Adam's overly-trusting nature. With the mixed assortment of Beings who occupied the Manor, and anyone able to wander in and out, who knew what might get left under the tree in the guise of an innocent gift?
It was that thought more than anything that had inspired him to dig out a handful of tools and mementoes and cobble them together into the ornament (well, more of an amulet really, but it could pass for an ornament if not examined too closely) that he now carefully suspended in an inconspicuous spot low and toward the back of the tree.
Two feathers--one a faintly shimmering white, one midnight-black--were lashed together in the middle, forming an extended X. Both were a little dry and fragile now, having been picked up as an afterthought fifteen years before, but he had preserved them carefully; he wasn't likely to get his hands on another like the black one, and the white one, as far as he knew, was now the only one of its kind that still existed.
Suspended under them by its rawhide drawtrings was a small leather sack containing a variety of small semi-precious gemstones, dried herbs, and a few less pleasant items, all carefully chosen for their complementary protective properties.
The drawstrings also threaded through a piece of origami in the shape of a five-pointed star. The paper was shiny gold, but only on one side; John had put two pieces together back-to-back so that no white would show. Written on the plain side of one sheet, folded safely away where no one would see, were several names (some belonging to beings who inhabited the Manor, and others who were elsewhere...one very far away) and a number of esoteric runes and diagrams. All pertained to matters of peace, prosperity and good fortune, the sorts of things one wished one's friends around this time of year.
He stood back from the tree and eyed the glimmering object with a dissatisfied grimace. Why he was even bothering with such a paltry thing in a place chock-full of beings whose power so thoroughly eclipsed his own small talents he had no idea.
Still...it couldn't hurt. Right?
Under the tree he set a very old, slightly dusty bottle of wine with a bow tied around its neck and a tag marked with two names. Almost the last drop of Brendan Finn's grand collection, the rest having been drunk to Brendan's memory or traded away for other needed things in a pinch. It was a wrench, letting it go, but hell...he had nobody to share it with, and considering the price the old boy had been prepared to pay for the stuff, he'd have wanted someone to enjoy it who would appreciate what they were drinking.
Wondering idly what else might turn up on or under the tree before Christmas Eve, John wandered off to the bar in search of some holiday cheer, or failing that, a properly soggy state of depression.