A disconnected call
{{ | date=06/04/2018 | time=09:00 EST | summary=What this scene's about. (optional) | cast=
| place_name=Edsel & Eleanor Ford House in the Lakeshore Suburbs and the Imaginary Plane | place_desc= Satellite view https://goo.gl/maps/xoQu3JGBeAr | log=The grounds around the Edsel & Eleanor Ford House are beautiful and encompass most of outcropping of land known as Gaukler Point. It is an estate that really puts the rest of those in Grosse Pointe Shores to shame, and many of those are rather quite large. What really does it is the trees. It is practically a park with all the greenery. And trees attract birds, especially as the weather gets warmer. So close to the water, it attracts a wide variety, making it a popular place for birding. Tweet tweet.
She doesn't have all of her morning gear, and Alma is dressed oddly today. But she might only seem odd to people who know her. A simple kurta falls midthigh over plain jeans. The line of the jeans is ruined by bulging pockets, but the kurta covers them most of the time. Binoculars hang off a strap around her neck, and she is scribbling in a field notebook. Her backpack on the ground has bike shoes in a pocket, and rest assured that there are more notebooks in it. There's no /obvious/ view of a crow around here, but there are so many trees and not everyone can recognize Note. She /is/ sporting a particularly fetching ensemble of twigs, however.
It is, indeed, hard to notice a specific birb amidst all the branches and leaves. But what that birb--and Alma--notice is that _something_ is hinky out in the middle of the large lawn. A tingle of magick with a flavor of Spirit, but the lawn is empty. What gives?
Alma clicks a little at Note, and Note is like, yeah I agree. Note agrees and launches in to the sky for an an arial survey while Alma heads outs towards the center of the lawn.
<<OOC>> Aaron says, "Aaron is presently across the Gauntlet in the penumbra. He has spied Alma and is going to, basically, call her from across the gauntlet. To him it'll be adding a voice component to his visual--which is on his tablet--but to her it'll be a phone call. It's Spirit 2 Forces 2, coincidental."
As Alma approaches the center of the lawn, the sense of magick begins to increase. Something is going on, and she gets the vague sense it may even be aimed at her. Over the span of a couple of minutes the feeling increases, and then her phone rings.
Her ring tone is different. There's some static there, which is weird becuase this is a digital medium. There are murmers, but Alma can't make out the words. She looks at the phone, puzzled. Pricklings ride up and down her arms. "Hello?"
"Hello," says a somewhat familiar, albeit unheard as of late, voice. "I didn't expect to run into anybody I knew out here." What? There's nobody out here. What the heck?
Oh, it's /this/ guy. Alma's forhead wrinkles a little. It's her, "I hate it when smart people are fucking idiots. What a waste," expression. "Me either." She says with a voice that holds her cards close to her chest. Ain't no stuffyshirt mage gonna see her look confused. right? She looks up at Note. Maybe Note sees a person?
"My apologies for the channel, I'm not finished with my work, so I need to stay put," Aaron says. The crackle in the signal is gone, and his voice sounds rather clear, but there is something _strange_ about the call. Is it the background noise? It doesn't sound right at all, but it's hard to place what exactly is wrong about it. "But, I saw you, and thought it auspicious."
"Oh, uh, of course." That poker face isn't holding very well. What the hell is he talking about? And what the fuck is going on with her phone. She looks at it and plays with the volume. "What are you doing out here?" She looks around for a building, maybe a car. Where is he watching her from? Maybe this is some sort of prank?
There's a moment of silence, at least from Aaron. There's a rustling sound and a strange, distant woop, that can only be heard over the phone. It definitely didn't happen here, where Alma is, on the grass. "I'm trying to gather some intel from the local population," Aaron says. "The automata farther in toward the city gave me a bunch of information that I'm still decoding. I was hoping that I could find some gafflings or maybe a jaggling out here that would parlay with me. So far, I've been getting stonewalled."
Alma finally gives in. The guy comes from a scholarly tradition, and she can respect that even though they have their problems. He /is/ a lot easier to talk to than Al. She's shit for collaboration, Alma bets. Maybe she can work with this guy? She drops the non-chalant act, "Where are you?" She turns around, a hand shading her eyes from the sun. "I can't see you. ... gafflings? What do they look like."
"I'm on the Imaginary Plane," Aaron says, as if that's totally a thing. The capital letters are also, for sure audible. Just like the strange susurrations that seem to be permeating the background noise of the phone call. "And gafflings can look like just about anything. Birds, plants, little mechanical spiders. They're just, you know, little spirits. Weak spirits." The way he says it suggests he doesn't think much of them.
Something clicks. It's not Note or her phone, it's the click of ideas linking up in her head. "Oh! I see. Have you heard any ghosts? I've been trying for weeks now but everything is muffled. This seems like a place I could try. Note and I are scoping it out." She looks up to see Note flying around. She waves at Note and says "Hey," relaxed-like.
"Ghosts?" There's a pause and then Aaron answers. "I wouldn't expect to see ghosts, exactly, not here on the Imaginary Plane," he says. There's another pause. "Maybe the idea of a ghost? This isn't like that at all. It's all much more conceptual. Like the realm is Plato's cave, but the Imaginary Plane is full of the things whose shadows get cast on the wall."
"Oh" is drawn out like she's maybe realizing something. "Maybe this is what Wednesday meant. He called it an Astral Plane." She's getting tired of being in the sun and heads over to the shade. "There must be a lot of planes. Ok, so I'm talking about the Shroud. I've been trying to call through it. Know what I mean? I haven't heard any dead in a while. And people die all the time." Note settles on a branch overhead, and Alma watches as the branch dips. There's a cross hair in shadow that forms on the ground. All around it are missed targets, holes of light shining through the leaves. Circles shaped like the sun.
"Yeah, that's just it," the voice says on the phone. "In any case. I don't really go _looking_ for ghosts, so I might not notice them even if they were here. Things here aren't like they are there. What you come looking for often dictates what you find. Sorry I'm not more helpful," he says.
"I could try being of help? Maybe I could look across and see if I notice any spirits you've missed? Or ghosts." She's skeptical about this because she hasn't had much success at this, but she knows some of the theory. "So...," she's embarassed she's not already an expert but people have to start somewhere, "I don't know how to get there. But I can look through." She's rocking back and forth on her feet now--speaking of starting from somewhere, she's working on balance. "And uh, when you're done here maybe you can pop out and compare notes with me?" For all she knows Aaron could have the most patronizing face in existence right now, but she can't tell which is why she sounds so freaking friendly?
"Sure, you might have better luck looking for gho--", Aaron cuts off, and there's some sort of loud sound that distorts coming out of the cellphone speaker, and then Aaron says. "I gotta go. I'll look you up later. Maybe we can compare notes. I don't live too far from here." Beat. "At least from where I think here is for you." Then the line goes dead.
<<OOC>> Alma says, "ominous" <<OOC>> Aaron says, "Dun. Dun. Dunnnnnn."
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