A collaboration between Green Judy's Simon and Umbrae, follow-up to the photoshoot Half Life. This story is slowly being built, through responsive dialogue, and will continue to grow for some time. The song Umbrae sings about the pinecone is "Pinecone Parable" by Crumbling Arches, though the lyrics have been altered slightly. Guest appearances by other owners' dolls from a doll meetup.
Umbrae: **smiles gently, expresssion somewhat bemused** So you came into my home - through a mirror, thus bypassing the wards I had set around this place - in order to rescue me? As you can see, my friend, I have no need for such actions. You are welcome here as long as you care to stay, however - it is a place of rest and healing, for those few who chance to find it.
Simon: **silently** I know what I saw.
Simon: Erm, the wards, yes. So that's what they were. Put the wind up me rather. I mean, I was expecting watchdogs of some kind, and I always carry a bit of spelled edgemetal with me (A little scissors, Swiss Army make. I'll show 'em to you later if you're keen). The wards...these were very old. Like old trees old.
Simon: They were very good; I tried not to disturb them. Hurt like billy-oh, going through, and--ah well--here I am, having walked your mirror, and disturbed your privacy.
Simon: And it's a lovely old house. So you keep it as a kind of St Jude's for the peculiarly lost? That's rather big of you. Bit of a bother, I would think. Still. The role suits you.
Simon: **thinking** I know what I saw.
Simon: You have treated me very kindly, considering my shirtless and wild-haired arrival on your doorstep. My ill-timed "rescue."
"I have no need for such actions," you say.
**blushes** It's true. Silly as it sounds, I've come to help you. Of course, I was imagining...well...it involved a bit of shimmying, you see, up trees and things, and maybe a bit of wizarding at the top of the tree, or at the bottom of it, depending on how you fared in the web. Gave me a turn to see you standing there in the hallway in your dressing gown.
Yes. A noble house. Not much of you in it, though.
There was more of you in that web out there where you almost lost your life, whatever nice thing you'd like to say about it now.
You may dissemble, but we both know, don't we? It was a close thing.
Simon: Talk to me, Umbrae.
Umbrae: ...I am sorry that my wards caused you pain - it is impressive that you were able to pass through them at all. They were not intended to be permeable to any unless I chose to make it so. I set them when I first came to this place. They are...over a thousand years old, it is true. Some of the trees here are older. But not many.
Umbrae: You say to speak to you. What would you have me tell? I know many stories. Have seen...
Flashback Images
Umbrae: **closes eyes** ...have experienced...
Umbrae: ...have done... **Black Jewel around neck glows briefly, a flash of dark fire in its depths**
End Flashbacks
Umbrae: **opens eyes again** ...many things.
Umbrae: Those webs - I made them. They were healing me. I had found myself...injured. The webs are sometimes harsh, but their embrace can save. And they can be sweet, even gentle, if the silk falls right.
Umbrae: **stoops, and picks up a pinecone** I do not know this...St. Jude... you speak of. But I dwell here, and heal those who I can, those who have been damaged. Sometimes I step out, and fight. But not often. Less and less frequently as the years drift by.
Umbrae: Take this, here. **holding the pinecone out** There is a song... **voice drops to a gentle, sensual croon, lips parted slightly to let loose barely whispered notes that tease the senses**
Pinecone, in the street
tell me why you left the canopy.
The caravan has worn you down.
I too left society
for a life of spirituality.
I left because nirvana can be found.
In the end
they will follow me.
In the end
they will follow you.
The wind carried you a prophecy.
You left a florid realm to see
what truth could be found in the dirt.
In the end
they will follow me.
In the end
they will follow you, my friend.
Until then, you and I are alone.
Until then, you and I - a prophet and a pinecone.
In the end
they will follow me.
In the end
they will follow you, my friend.
And in the autumn of their lives
they will follow me.
In the end
they will follow you, my friend.
Umbrae: **is still for a moment, then offers the pinecone to Simon** I am not certain if it falls to me to be a pinecone, or a prophet, or something else entirely. But I offer safety here, hidden away from what society would make of things.
Simon: A...retired life, is it, Umbrae?
Simon: Umbrae...I passed through your trace, in the mirror, as I came to you. I went through the image you've left in your mirror. I tasted your pain, your life. Umbrae, I came through the ancient fire. It's burning still.
Simon: Do you really think this place won't, finally, burn with you?
Simon: You have banked the flame. You have imposed a stasis upon yourself, upon your power. And that is temporary. We trammel it, but it is not to be kept warded, locked, hidden. It is terror incarnate.
Umbrae, I think it is also love.
Simon: **looks at the pinecone** A beautiful song. You sing...good songs. You are a fine healer, Umbrae - maybe a great healer. Of the Old Ones I've met, in my time, you are the most patient. And by far...the most kind.
Simon: But...
Simon: When you were in that web...repairing the damage...recouping the loss...
Simon: **whispering** Is there no one, Umbrae, that's reached a hand out to help you, in all this time?
Umbrae: ...This place will die, someday. I cannot change that. I can only accept it.
Umbrae: While it lives, I can offer sanctuary to those who need it.
Umbrae: Though...some of it already is dying. Some of it already is dead. I am no true Healer - I know only little. What I can do with my webs...cannot be used on many people. It can work on me, on some others, but not...not on all.
Umbrae: Has someone reached out a hand to me?
Flashback Image
Umbrae: ...Yes...some have...Phaedanar...Sailiria...but they want from me...they want things that I...I cannot... **shudders** I let them stay here. They hide from their pasts, from things that have hurt them, and they slowly heal, in the way that only time can heal someone. But they...desire...and I...
End Flashback
Umbrae: **voice is a bit harsh, not with accusation, but with something else** You came here, to help, even though it was not required. You did not desire to take anything from my flesh. You did not know me. And yet you came...
Umbrae: ...Why would you do that? I am not...
Simon: Umbrae, you are.
Simon: You are.
Simon: It's not in me to leave you lie. We were both born in fire. We both came through grief into power. We suffered; and we caused suffering. How can you think that being alone will make this right?
Simon: **whispers** Well. You aren't alone, I'm afraid.
Simon: **turning the pinecone over and over in his hand**
Umbrae: **voice barely a whisper** I do not feel alone.
Umbrae: For the first time in...many centuries.
Umbrae: I feel...cherished.
Umbrae: Not for what I can do, but for who I am.
Umbrae: I do not know that I have ever felt this way before.
Umbrae: I want to protect...but that is no new inclination.
Umbrae: But for the first time, I feel protected in return.
Umbrae: Perhaps...perhaps I am neither pinecone nor prophet after all.
Umbrae: Perhaps I am simply me.
Umbrae: Can that be enough, in the end?
Simon: Sweetheart. My dear, it is enough. You live: it's enough.
We go through all this...we lose faith in ourselves...we soldier on, we let ourselves diminish, work out to nothing...somehow we don't die... **whispering** And somehow, amazingly, we land here. Here. It's a miracle. It's close enough to a miracle that I won't quibble.
Simon: We meet. Umbrae? We met.