1529/Softly the Petals Fall

Softly the Petals Fall
Date of Scene:	05 May 2020
Location:	Cherry Blossom Festival, Brooklyn Botanic Garden, New York City
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Sif, Heidi Ingerdottir, Caitlin Fairchild

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Sif has posed:
Expansive and charming in its well-tended greenery, the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens are thrilled to host the Sakura Matsuri Cherry Blossom Festival every spring. Guests are free to wander the concrete paths and across the mowed lawns beneath the umbrella-like spread of delicate, lightly-scented flowers. If one's in the right place at the right time, a breeze splaying through the branches of the trees will scatter and shower the petals down in a cheerful spattering of rosy-pink. The festival itself celebrates the end of Hanami, Japan's prime flower season, and in the pavilion area, many booths are set up for the flea market. A tea room is also open to the public as well as Taiko drumming displays and J-rock in the later evening hours. The art gallery itself is brimming with traditional pieces, paint and fabric and sculpture alike.

Sif is currently dealing with a sudden down-shower of pink petals and blinking in mild amusement as she plucks the cherry blossom bits off her lightweight grey tunic. This is belted overtop a gauzy long-sleeved number in cream with lacy gradiation into short-draping cuffs. Her leggings are definitely standard Midgardian, tucked into cavalry boots. "I am glad to not be allergic to these blossoms," she notes to her comrades as she picks one of her raven-black hair, left free-flowing today over her shoulders. "It would be a travesty."

Beep the hummingbird is somewhere, likely up in the canopy, buzzing appreciatively about the flowers as is a hummingbird's habit.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi is very interested in exploring the cultures of Midgard. She has found, after all, that if their foods are so different and interesting that the cultures that match must be as diverse as well. So every bit of the festival is taken in with a smile. /Especially/ the blossoms. "It would be a travesty indeed. You wouldn't be able to be showered in sweet-scented..." She stops, totally unsure of what word she was going to use at the end of the sentence.

"Right, anyway, flowers are nice."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:


"Choo!"

Caitlin, unlike her Asgardian friends, /is/ allergic, and sniffles into a handkerchief. "Sorry," she says through congestion. A pale white and blue handkerchief salvages her sleeves and her dignity; she fumbles in her purse for a little nasal spritzer and turns aside to sniff through it.

"Radiation gives me a suntan and I can season my food with hemlock, but a stupid blossom makes my eyeballs itch," she grumbles in complaint.

Another honk-BLORK into her kerchief and it's tucked into the brown leather purse on her shoulder, almost large enough to be a tote. She's in a pink skirt with horizontal ruffled pleats that hangs to her mid-calves; simple flats at least keep her from towering over Heidi and Sif. A black babydoll tee features a rampant cartoon pony casting a defiant eye, and the words PWNY over it.

"Hey!" Caitlin whistles sharply at her drone, a high-low note. It halts a pursuit of Sif's hummingbird in midair, buzzing, and looks back at Caitlin. "Leave's the bird alone!" she orders it. The drone somehow manages to look petulant (lacking a face, it does so with antennae and legs), and the quadrotors buzz it over to land on Caitlin's shoulder like a metal butterfly.

Sif has posed:
Heidi gets one of those side-glances where it's very clear how much the dark-haired Valkyrie is tempted to laugh. Long-standing habit and decorum means a mere slim smile shows, but this is a gift in itself from Sif known to be reserved if not chilly. A last flick removes a pale petal and then she reaches out to rest an empathetic palm on Caitlin's shoulder.

"I am sorry you are as such, Lady Caitlin. Is there naught you can take to brunt the worst of your woes? Some Midgardian medication, perhaps?" She seems untroubled at the drone's interactions with the bejeweled hummingbird up in the cherry blossom canopy. If anything, she glances up, reminded of the wee missing creature.

Down comes Beep in a shimmering blur of construct-magic and she takes a few speedy turns around both Caitlin and Heidi before settling into the tuck of Sif's neck, her minute wings folding into organization and long beak parting in a sharp 'BEEP'.

Hence the name.

"We might move away from the trees and towards the pavilion if it would be more comfortable?" the Goddess offers, glancing between her friends.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
While Heidi watches the drone and the bird interact, she's grateful that the only thing she possesses that flies is much, much bigger and much less likely to cause problems. Unless Typhon's around. She'll look the other way.

"Yes, Lady Sif is right, I have heard there are many cures to such things. Surely something can help." She does feel slightly guilty that they get to enjoy it while Caitlin is just full of the itchy eyes. "Yes, let's move so everyone will be comfortable."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I've got my Flonase," Caitlin tells them, and shows the bottle to the others before tucking it back in her purse. The little tote is the definition of 'tidy', and almost offensively well organized. Just shy of labelling pockets.

"It helps, but I have to keep using it." She is sounding better already. "It's a histamine response. Human chemical defense against foreign toxins. Just..." She sniffles and waves a hand near her cherry-red nose. "Mine's a little over-aggressive. Flowers set it off. It's just annoying. And I /do/ want to see the flowers," she adds.

"So, uh... I'm taking a trip to Jerusalem, soon," Caitlin tells her friends. "In Israel. Next week, at least, unless something comes crashing down on me." Her tone struggles and fails to sound nonchalant. "I don't think I'll be gone long, but it might take me a few days to get back."

Sif has posed:
Ah, the white bottle of relief. Nodding agreement to Heidi's thoughts on matters, Sif moves to curl a well-meaning arm about the small of Caitlin's back, the better to shepherd the red-nosed redhead away from the shade of the cherry trees and out into clearer air on the lawn.

Her pale eyes find Caitlin's face again as they travel towards the pavilion and the flea market. "You are strong and well-trained. Is it something to do with your studies? Or something which requires an escort?" Heidi is included in the mildly concerned frown. "I am uncertain if you appear excited at this chance to travel, Lady Caitlin."

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
The explanation of Caitlin's allergies is appreciated as Heidi looks thoughtful. Her thoughts, however, are drawn away by the mention of the trip. "Well, I do hope that nothing literally comes crashing down upon you." That is, after all, a very real thing for some of them. Sometimes Heidi has been that crashing thing. Her gaze moves between Sif and Caitlin.

"Your tone seems to indicate that you might be concerned about the trip... perhaps you wish to talk?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin fidgets and rakes her fingers through her ponytail, then grips the strands hanging over her shoulder and tugs it through loosely curled fingers. "I... uh... It's kind of weird," she hedges.

Then she looks at Heidi and Sif, two literal aliens from a culture once worshipped as deific, and sighs heavily.

"I had kind of a, uh.. A vision, I guess. Visitation," she amends. "Golly, I feel stupid saying this out loud," she mutters. "I was in Brazil doing a mission for my church. Er, service trip," she clarifies. "Moving some very old, very rare antiques out of an old cathedral. This crazy like, ninja woman stole one, and I chased her, and got it back."

She scuffs a sandal against the pavement, watching a few flowers go sailing into the air and landing gracefully elsewhere. "Next thing I know, I was talking to a ... is there a word for 'Saint'? Does that translate right?" She looks from Sif to Heidi, presses on. "A ghost of a holy person. And they said, 'Go to Jerusalem'. So..." Shoulders rise and fall in a fidgety shrug, and she looks at them both again.

"This kind of thing really doesn't happen -that- often on Earth," she clarifies, hastily.

Sif has posed:
Again, Heidi gets a quietly-concerned glance from Sif as their Midgardian friend sighs. She then solemnly listens to precisely what seems to be weighing on the redhead's shoulders.

"I see." Paused in the warm fall of spring sunlight, the Valkyrie thinks for a moment. "I have observed these visitations are indeed a rarity here on Midgard. They are not as common as one might think in our own world as well. It usually requires a mage practiced in the arts of speaking to the spirits if the deceased has not found acceptance in Valhalla." Heidi then gets another lingering look and a small smile. "I will not deny that they do happen nonetheless. My last encounter with a spirit in my own home-world seemed to be brought on by a necessary task as well."

"Have you reason to believe this holy spirit is attempting to deceive you?" she then asks of Caitlin.

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
Heidi shoots a glance to Sif before looking back to Caitlin. "I do not feel like there is reason for me to question your experience. If something asks you to go somewhere and you believe them to be trustworthy, perhaps you should at least hear them out." She looks back towards Sif. "But only if they're trustworthy. Don't want anyone tricking you."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"N-no!" Caitlin stammers, looking alarmed at the idea of duplicity. "It was real. I mean, it felt real. I mean, yes, theoretically I could be manipulated by some kind of higher consciousness, but that's the sort of philosophical black hole that'll keep you up at night wondering if your reality is solely the product of a subjective consciousness being manipulated into thinking it's experiencing time by invisible outside forces."

She has to wheeze in some more air after that strained train of thought is voiced. "Not that I was worried about it."

"But it's... I mean, I don't know. If it happened, then I saw a miracle. I know why I'm strong, for instance. I understand the science. I know, uh, kinda how Asgardian physiology works. Sort of. I'm working on that. But this was like a real, honest to heaven visitation, and I'm... kind of torn between..." She fidgets thumbnails against each other, worrying at them. "I don't know if it's scarier that either I'm going crazy, or I'm actualy being Called to do something."

Sif has posed:
A bumblebee does a lazy, bumbling path around all three women, quieter than Beep might be. Sif watches it go even as she reaches to to brush a fingertip ever so very gently against the fine feathering of the hummingbird's chest, tucked as she is still in the shade of the raven-dark hair. Nodding in understanding, the Goddess of War smiles again her small, familiar smile, this privy only to friends.

"If you have been chosen by some force beyond understanding, it is for good reason. It has been my understanding that such powers are decisive. Why not see what comes of your travels? If it becomes apparent than you perhaps had too much to drink that evening or perhaps an acute allergic reaction, so that your mind was befuddled, what trouble will come of arriving in this Jerusalem?"

Heidi Ingerdottir has posed:
"Perhaps I am more willing to trust in such a thing than most, but Sif is right. What do you have to lose by going? What risk do you take?" Heidi beams. "And if you are correct you will be seeking something bigger than yourself and that may be worth the risk entirely. To do something so important seems like a worthy thing."