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James BunnyMan · Visitor Joined: 09 Dec 2009 Posts: 7

The pooka that is sometimes called James Bunny-Man watched as Eclyse Christian hammered in a horseshoe above the door of the Ashencrosse Theater.

"What are you doing that for?"
"Because I still say it's good luck"
"No it's not! It is just like four leaf clovers, you people just THINK it is good luck."
"Well I'll gi'e it a a test run."
"It won't end well."

The pooka warned her the horseshoes were bad luck.
And Eclyse responded that if it was she would just take it down.

It was already late in the evening, and he looked down at the hated piece of iron that hung above the door from the watch tower he definitely was not living in. That being there was definitely going to be a problem. He reached into his pack and pulled out a hammer. And waited until everyone was asleep.

As the darkest part of the night arrived, when he was relatively sure everyone had gone to bed, he performed a magic spell, one he had been doing so long it was almost second nature, the one that made him invisible, and went up to the building.

The pooka then shattered the window next to the door, then the next window, then the next, until every pane of glass on the first floor was broken.

He then readied a second spell on his legs and jumped, grabbing onto a window sill on the second floor with one hand and swung the hammer with the other.
And thus through the night he continued slowly, and above all quietly, he went around the house, on the second floor then the third, making sure no part of his body ever entered the theater as he broke every exterior window over the course of the night.

He then climbed back down onto the ground, all that is left is to wait and see if that was enough "bad luck".
_________________
"I've wrestled with reality for 35 years...and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it."
--Elwood P. Dowd

Eclyse Christian · Posted: Sat Dec 15, 2012 10:15 am Post subject:

“Who'd do such a thing?” Cezanne knelt, gathering colourful shards of stained glass from the partially frozen earth. Her other hand gathered the hem of her apron, creating a pouch where she stowed handful upon handful of brightly-coloured, but brutally shattered glass as she moved from one gaping and empty window to the next. The theatre curtains sucked inside and blew out again through the empty window frames as if the Bramble Rose itself was a living and breathing thing.

“I don't know Miss Ceza. But it took a lot of work to bust out all of 'em.” Loric's handyman Grummel, atop a ladder, plucked the remaining shards of silvered and iridescent glass from an empty frame, and tossed them to the ground for Cezanne to gather with the rest.

“You don't think he had something to do with this, do you?” Cezanne inclined her head toward the watchtower, where the Bunny-Man was most definitely not living. The pooka sat scowling, his gaze intently set upon the horseshoe hanging over the theatre door. If he heard the conversation, or indeed even realized that the two were there at all, he didn't let on. Instead, he crossed his arms with a malcontent sigh, tilted his head and glared at the theatre door, his determination renewed by the new angle of his stare.

“I don't know, Miss Eclyse said he told her the horseshoe was bad luck, but she 'doesn't b'lieve in such hooey as all tha'.” He imitated Eclyse's lilt perfectly, and Cezanne laughed as she dumped an apron-full of broken glass into a wooden barrel. Above her, Grummel blushed and smiled as he set about scraping the windowframe to prepare it for new glass.

A heavy wooden door opened next door, and Eclyse stepped out of the Hall of Compassion. The dark-haired knight watched Cezanne and Grummel working for a moment before turning her keen eyes on the watchtower. The Bunny-Man's glare had been interrupted only for a moment as he shot Eclyse a dirty glance, then turned the full force of his concentration again upon the horseshoe above the theatre door.

A muffled crunch as the knight approached alerted her to a missed shard of glass hidden beneath the grass, and she backed up to pick up the shattered pieces. “He must think he can move that thing wi' his mind. Has 'e said anythin' t' either one o' ye? Fessed up, by some chance?”

“No Ma'am.” Grummel offered quietly, mopping sweat from his forehead with a rag. “He's still just staring.”

“Mm.” Eclyse tossed a grim look in the direction of the tower.

“Hello!” James smiled cheerfully as he called down at her from the watchtower. But the smile was short-lived as he began to glare at the adorned doorway with renewed vigor.

“It's time I had a talk wi' that one.” Eclyse tossed the handful of glass into the bucket and dusted off her hands.

“Easier to nail down quicksilver, Lady Christian, than to force a pooka to talk when they don't want to. Let alone to get the truth out of them.” Cezanne moved to the next windowframe and began picking up the glass beneath that one. “I'm not even sure you could get him out of the tower, at this point."

“Oh I'll get 'im t' talk, if I have t' drag 'im into the interrogation room by them ears o' his.” Eclyse turned and skipped two stone steps as she followed the walkway away from the theatre. So much for compassion, she thought as she took a deep breath to center herself, and forced a smile.

“Oi, James! A word, if ye please...” And with that, she stalked off toward the watchtower.

James BunnyMan · Visitor Joined: 09 Dec 2009 Posts: 7

The pooka with quite a lot of different names glared at the horseshoe, trying to make it fall.

There are many types of magic that Fae can do, and making things move with your mind is not something he had learned. Not that it would make a difference anyway. It is made of iron. And no magic he knows could have the slightest affect on it. It would be far easier to burn Ashencrosse to the ground and turn all the mortals within into frogs, then to make that horseshoe so much as wobble.

The Dweller Between (as the pooka is sometimes called) tilted his head and glared at it from a slightly different angle, trying to make it so hot it would melt in case it spontaneously turned from iron into different metal in the past few minutes. But it didn't, because it was definitely a horseshoe, and it was definitely made of iron. There are reasons for this, and James (as he is also called) prefers to think of them as Rules.

There are Rules for being a living mortal, things you have to do to continue being a living mortal, like 'you have to eat'.
There are Rules for Fae as well, but they are far less universal. And while there are a lot that overlap with humans, it is rarely for the same reasons or with the same consequences. The Rule that is currently bothering the pooka standing in the watchtower is the one along the lines of 'you must not enter a building with an iron horseshoe above the door'. There are a lot of Rules regarding iron, and quite a few are full of large loopholes.

However, there is no avoiding this one. Mr. Hatter (a name he is referred to on occasion) was there when it was put up, there might have been a way to work around it, but he would have had to ask for more reasons why it was being put up. But that could lead to questions, and if he answered those questions, they might start to get a better ideas on how true old fairy tales are, they might put up more horseshoes or start planting the wrong sort of trees! Then he'd almost have to respond to such threats in kind, the only alternative is to calmly explain the situation and why he must be able to get into the theater, but that would require much more trust then he was comfortable giving to them.

His thoughts once again turn outward as he remembered there are others about, not to mention that he was still visible. That is enough dark thoughts, it is much better to talk to others, because that way you can lie. Such wonderful gift it is to be able to lie! And now could be the time to tell some: Eclyse was trying to get his attention. He wondered what it could be about as he smiled and shouted, "Hello!"
_________________
"I've wrestled with reality for 35 years...and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it."
--Elwood P. Dowd

Eclyse Christian · Posted: Tue Dec 18, 2012 11:27 pm Post subject:

(Twelve Days Earlier)

“Ever hear o' déjà vu, Phillip?” Eclyse stood, arms crossed on the top rail of the corral fence, her chin resting atop her arms as she gazed off toward the purple line of twilight's horizon.

Phillip paused, silencing his hammer as he pondered the question. “Déjàwhat?”

“Déjà vu.” Eclyse chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment, before continuing. “It's th' feelin' that ye've experienced somethin' before. Like...if we'd had this same visit not even a fortnight ago.”

Phillip went back to his work, shaking his head. “I think everybody feels that sometimes. Maybe it's something from a past life.”

Eclyse narrowed her eyes in thought, but refrained from shooting down his hypothesis, instead opting to change the subject.

“He split his left front on a rock.” She looked over the magnificent horse and lowered her arms from the fence, running a hand along his flank.

“Aye, I noticed,” Phillip replied. “Got to stop jumping things just because you can, Clysie.”

“I didn't come back to Minoc for a lecture, Phillip.” Eclyse smirked. “You shoe 'im and leave the ridin' to me.”

“Huh.” Phillip examined the underside of the steed's back right hoof. “Gonna file this one down a bit, but it should be fine. It'll last another couple of weeks at least.” He tossed the shiny new horseshoe on the workbench with ringing clatter.

Eclyse picked up the shiny horseshoe and examined it. “A mite prettier before they go on than after they come off, aye?” She chuckled and picked up her waistpouch. “What did I owe ye?”

“Well now I'll drop a hundred off, since I didn't need that shoe yonder. Say three hundred?"

Eclyse arched a brow. “And if I want the shoe as well?”

“Whaddya want with a horseshoe Clysie?” Phillip scratched his nose on his sleeve, his hands covered in mud from Brave's hooves.

“I've heard they're good luck.”

Phillip thought a moment, then nodded. “I'd allow yer right about that.”

“I think I'll hang it up someplace.” Eclyse counted out gold coins and tossed a few on top of the pile for good measure. “G'day t' ye Phillip.” She lowered her head to him ever-so-slightly.

“G'bye Clysie. I'll tell your father I saw you, and that you're doin' well.” Phillip smiled as he watched her lead the dark stallion out of the front gate.

“Oh, Clysie!” He yelled, seeming to've nearly forgotten something. “Hang it over a door. The ends point up, lest the good luck all pour out of it!”

Eclyse grinned and gave a wave as she mounted up. “I will, Phillip, thanks! 'Ave a beautiful afternoon!”

And with that, she tore off, full tilt, for Ashencrosse.

James BunnyMan · Visitor Joined: 09 Dec 2009 Posts: 7

(Two Hundred and Thirty Nine Years Earlier)

The pooka that will later be called James Bunny-Man, but was currently called Pat Robinson, was hard at work. It was a quiet day, and not much was going on, so his antics were drawing a crowd.

"Pick a shell and find the pea! It's as easy as can be!"

He had three shells in front of him, and the crowd was watching because, shockingly enough, the pooka didn't seem to be cheating at all! They watched him intently, waiting to see where the scam was but could not find it.

Eventually, however, they found other amusements and moved on, and the pooka gathered up his meager winnings and shells. As he walked off a second pooka materialized next to him, carrying a bag full of valuables that used to belong to the spectators.

"I got us lots of shinies today, Pat!" proclaimed the second pooka cheerfully to his littermate, this one was currently using the name 'Owen Robinson'.

(Two Hundred and Thirty Eight Years, Eleven Months, and Twelve Days Later)

A pooka that is now called James Bunny-Man was trying to convince Eclyse not to put a horseshoe above the door.
_________________
"I've wrestled with reality for 35 years...and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it."
--Elwood P. Dowd