5770/1000 Faces: I Just Want You For Your Body

1000 Faces: I Just Want You For Your Body
Date of Scene:	28 March 2021
Location:	Maidstone State Park, Vermont
Synopsis:	In part I, trouble is afoot with the rusalka in Vermont.
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Peter Parker, Lara Croft, Abcde Prescelta

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Jane Foster has posed:
@OzarkHowler Beauty is more than skin deep! See yourself for who you are inside. <3 Take the plunge into a #moonpool in the Northeast Kingdom!

@WeRideAtDawn Perfect moment in the Northwoods #moonbaths. Embracing my best self with my best friends. Won't you come and join us? Everyone is welcome to find peace and inner beauty.

Posts dance across Instagram and Twitter. Excited faces, smiling women and a few men against the stark evergreen backdrop of Vermont's striking woods. Staccato pines and firs give way to the tranquil waters of Maidstone Lake where the thin beachline in places has been turned into an eco-friendly paradise. A few candles even in the day accompany short clips of bathers slipping into the mirror-still water. One has a distinctly Lady of Shalott feel, strewn with flowers and the first lily pads in spots. Another with a gentleman holding his breath the whole darn time -- eight minutes -- before he sits up and grins for the camera, almost lit by some sharper glow from within. It helps to be hot!

Moonbathing. It's what's on the menu deep in the Northeast Kingdom, not far from the Canadian border. Not that Maidstone State Park is close to anywhere, given the village of Northumberland is like 60 people and then Tinkerville up the state highway has a population of Tinker Bell and two people. But it's the destination of choice, widely advertised to the worthy.

Peter Parker has posed:
"What the HECK am I doing in VERMONT?"

He's said this a few times now. Out loud, even.
Peter Parker stood near the station at Northumberland and checked his notes. Again. Right...JJJ wanted something to uplift people after Peter's article on the Upper East Side's version of Lovecraft's Moving Brownstone.
"I need some GOOD pictures. PICTURESQUE. And I swear, if I see even so much of a HINT of that red-and-blue scuttling menace..."
Good old JJJ. Don't ever change.

He glanced around, looking for a shuttle or something.

Lara Croft has posed:
It was only a 6 hour train ride from NYC to Vermont, so instead of driving, Lara decided to take a more classical method of travel. When she'd arrived, she'd only been carrying a light backpack hanging from her left shoulder, her black leather jacket on over a light blue hoodie underneath it zipped up over a white tank top, blue jeans and black leather boots.

Lara's arriving not that long after Peter has, and she's walking right past him in fact on her way to the car rental place to pick up the vehicle she put a reserve in on, she doesn't seem to know him because well... she's never met Peter Parker, she has met Spider-man though!

So Lara's on her way to get her rental car, a very obvious sign over a counter with employees happily signing out cars.

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    The deeper north she went the more Vermont started to remind her of home. West Virginia was known for three things. Forests, strip mines, and cryptids. The three tend to go together in a typical 'dont mess with nature or nature will mess back' kind of trope. Not that WV had a monopoly on those things.

    That people had died supposedly connected to 'moon bathing' made her think there was something unusual going on. Any experienced practitioner of magic knows that nothing comes free. If they really had figured out a way to make their bodies perfect.. someone, somewhere, was paying for it.

    It was particularly concerning that the more norther traditions birthed some truly horrific lore where the kinds of rites that might be part of this moon bathing came from. She had to see for herself. It if was especially bad, well, she hoped the family coven could gather in time to undo what is done.

    Abcde liked to keep her thumb on the online social scene, partly because her fan base was there but also because conmen like to take advantage with baseless woo woo claims and treatments porporting to be magical. Sometimes those idiots stumble on real magic and things can go horrible wrong. This place? seemed to be targeting those who were desperate. Desperation tends to allow people to be manipulated more easily.

    Although Northumberland was on New Hampshire side of the track, she needed to get somewhere to refuel and buy supplies before delving deeper in to forests of Vermont - in to strange territory she has no connection with. The town was quite small and her New York plates stand out where she parked. Just one street of shops, It serves as a good place for her to get out and stretch her legs and take in the smells of fresh air. Though, the train station is within sight.. may be she should have taken the train.

Jane Foster has posed:
All two rental vehicles in this area have been booked. One is a boppy little RAV4 and the other is a boppy Subaru Outback, because that's how they roll in the Northeast Kingdom. Whatever can tackle those abundant hills, which ring the lake and rise and fall in all directions. Lara has her choice of brown or green, just like the trees.

Otherwise, traffic threads lightly up State Route 3. People in their cutesy mini SUVs or old beater boxes make an eclectic mix: the moneyed influences and the locals with their pass in. They'll stop for a thumb, a friendly face, a waving cellular phone with that pretty image of a white, androgynous figure stepping into a pool that someone posted.

The path hiking up to the lake is otherwise a good hour and some uphill, both ways, under cooling skies threatening a lovely sunset. The aim, of course, is to join once the moon rises and that's barely a half hour off after slipping behind the hilltops. Dark forests evoke friendly sentiments, surely? Either way, the turnoff for the state park is well marked and someone thought to leave an LED lantern right over the sign so directions shine warmly for those who seek.

Up in the woods is another matter altogether, with a winding concrete path turning to packed dirt and the parking lot beyond.

Peter Parker has posed:
"...Whaddaya MEAN you can't find my reservation?"
Peter stared at the car rental guy, who looked bored and has his IDGAF attitude firmly in place.
"There is no reservation under the name Peter Parker. Or Daily Bugle. Or J. Jonah Jameson."
Peter sighed heavily. JJJ wouldn't take his call.
He looked around, wondering what his options would...
Peter stopped, his eyes widening perceptibly. *Holy cats, that's LARA CROFT.*
He had looked up the name after the whole Anubis thing. But what the heck was she doing HERE?

A young man with an earnest face approached Miss Croft, looking about as woebegone as he could be. "Uhm...sorry to bother you, ma'am, but...are you heading up to Maidstone Lake?"

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara does glance over at Peter when she overhears his car rental not being available. While her keys are being handed over to her... that's a bit awkward!

She tries to pretend like she's none the wiser though and by the time he's approahcing her she's just stuffing the keys in to her bag and starting to walk off toward the pickup spot outside, to get the green one... cause green!

With Peter stopping her, Lara pauses and takes a second. "I.. am, in fact." She tells him. "I'm attending an even there this evening. I... overheard your issue..." She notes, sounding a bit more grim. "Would you like a lift?" She then inquires, showing a soft smile to the young man.

She's a visitor to this country! She has to be nice, right? Help people out!

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    There's still phone reception out here, so she texts her auntie, "At Northumberland, heading to Maidstone Lake now. Love you." Back in the car. Snack food, water, flash light, mosquitto spray. All the things a young woman needs when heading in to hippie territory.

    She gets back in her car and heads back in to the forest. The LEDs do help a lot, given she was trying to use GPS to find her way there. Parking in the carpark, her gear in a backpack, she walks the paved path from the carpark to the packed dirt path and eventually toward the sounds of young people partying. Just how any good horror film should start, she wryly thinks to herself.

    She does, however, tuck her wand to the back of her belt, underneath her jacket. There's no need to advertise herself right now. She does at least look the part. A recent interaction with an exploding mirror has left little cuts over her face and hands and arms. They're slowly healing, but unlike superheroes she has no magical healing factor. Only time and good health.

    Once she makes it to the dirt, she does take a moment to walk off the path just a little and stroke a hand along one of the trees and drops down to her knees. She scoops up some of the dirt and whispers softly, "Please take no offence at my trespass, I am your humble servant." She rubs the grit between her hands and then lets it fall back to the forest floor. A quiet little rite she felt she must observe, for this forest is old and likely set in its ways.

Jane Foster has posed:
Subaru or RAV4? Lara Croft doesn't need brown, she needs green, so she gets the jingly key for the Outback. The sleepy-eyed local handling the all-purpose country store seems mildly startled that more than three people would want a car, but he asks Peter, "Do you need yourself a mechanic? I know a guy. Or maybe the mountain bike roundabout there, if they're still open." Only in Vermont do things shut down when it gets dark. Or just the country store, since everything a person needs from expensive hiking socks to a gallon of milk and a fishing pole can be purchased from the overglorified two-storey house from around the Revolution. It exudes age and welcome in a way at least familiar to one Ms. Croft. For a New York native, it's a real rural bodega, and for a witch, well supplied.

Another car slaloms calmly over the twisty bits of road to Vermont's most remote state park. Rush hour, then. The parking lot in Maidstone Lake itself is mostly a collection of locals and mostly out-of-towners, with the occasional bemused fisherman being urged on by the late hour. Last light shines on the low rounded peaks, blue cooled to iridescent violet where the clouds burn grey. The immediate way to the lakeshore is easy to pick out with aid of the state park markers and a map, but someone has kindly left little bows in white gardening twine on a few of the branches around waist height to guide people onward. Quiet murmurs haunt the forested shores, not many insects, but a fair number of courting birds still calling to one another.

Beyond that, the rhythmic drumming and soft melodies of a human voice barely prove audible. Fortunately people daring enough to do a near polar-bear swim in chilly waters created by retreating glaciers think to set up a few lanterns. They prepare blankets and some have already got the party started, as such it involves passing around food to share and readying anyone who wants to take a dip.

Peter Parker has posed:
Five minutes later, he is riding in the vehicle with Lara Freaking Croft, and he realized there is very little he can say without sounding like a COMPLETE GOOBER.
So, he tries to make conversation as best he can.
"I remember catching a few shots of you during that whole pyramid event. I was focusing on Spider-Man, but you proved to be...an evocative image. I never published the photos, though. So...what are you doing up here?

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara grabbed a few items before heading out too, a few bottles of water and a new flashlight, all of which were stuffed in to pockets on her black backpack she had over one shoulder.

Once in the vehicle though, she listened to Peter's questions and comments, smiling here and there. "Yes, well, thankfully that event didn't cause any harm to civilians. Otherwise... I don't know if I'd be facing legal issues or not." She idly comments back to him.

At his question she takes a moment to form her answer. She's here fur multiple reasons. For her job with WAND and for personal reasons too. "My father was rather obsessed with the search for eternal life." She starts, pauses and smiles. "He was an explorer and archaeologist. He scoured the globe for answers on how to extend one's life, or how to bring one back from the dead. Moonbaths... happened to be listed in his journal. So, here I am, on my way to observe this, since it was happening relatively close enough to get to relatively easily." She grins lightly.

"What about you?"

The rest of the trip is held in casual conversation like this until they arrive at the site, Lara gets her backpack back on her shoulder and tosses her leather jacket in to the rental, leavin gher in the hoodie and tanktop underneath it. She puts the backpack on both shoulders and will venture toward the sounds, following the markers and noises through the sounds of nature...

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    Abcde brushes her hands down on the sides of her jeans and walks further down the path in to what can only be described as a late night party in the forest next to a lake. That is.. fine, she supposes. The real question is - was this all a scam to sell t-shirts or moon bath rocks?

    Or was there real magic going on here and at whose expense. She smiles at the drumming by people getting in to the spirit of things and she chuckles to herself at the skinny dipping. A set of charred vegetables on a stick is offered her and she takes it. Why not have a slightly healthy snack while she's out here.

    Some where here there must be people who look like they know what they're doing. Or more people like her, sticking their noses in trying to figure out what's going on. It wouldn't be the first time she's run in to a journalist at one of these things looking for a debunking story.

Jane Foster has posed:
A high-quality path weaves past the bushes and the many evergreen trees that offer some cover at least. The scrubby twigs and ferns are just peeping from the wet soil. Ahead trudge a couple wearing backpacks, and Abcde won't be long by herself before entering a clearing probably serving as a nice field with a gentle gradient down into the long, deep lake. The watery tongue dipping in makes a natural bay longer than it is wide, and thus delightful for the purposes of the bathers.

There very much is real music to guide the way, and the rhythmic drumming involves a small stretched skin on a round frame. Several women with pale to dark blonde hair wear bikinis and frolic around as though it's August, but their accents range through Polish, Estonian, Finnish: all places that have two bad months of ice fishing, right? One of them is already up to her waist and scattering petals and leaves on the water from a net bag. Another of her friends in turquoise holds out her hands to greet the first of the bathers, a young man with several impressive tattoos on his sleeve. He yelps at the temperature of the water or for stepping onto a pebble, but hastens into a run for her while she laughs.

The first filaments of magic are there, slowly on the rise, but nothing fully figured yet. The setup involves a picnic shelter, where blankets are bundled and food spread out. Most of it is cooked but cold, or the kind of thing you can eat without heating: sandwiches, for example. "Welcome, you don't need to hide back there. We all know why we are here!" calls the established blond man with a white t-shirt and black shorts responsible for greeting people. He's very happy to do that whether it's Peter or Lara or Abcde; however excited or unsure they are, showing them to a bench or a cozy set of camp chairs that unfold.

"It's a beautiful night. Look, the moon is up. You'll have to wait for your turn, I fear, someone's already taking a bath. He just could not wait." The blond man has an accent, possibly Swedish, but a clear, eager air to him, someone awaiting the concert beginning or a chance to buy a coveted pair of sneaks.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter shrugged. "A city kid sent out to do a puff piece on a vacation spot someone saw on a brochure. Sounds perfect, doesn't it?"

The ride to the lake is picturesque, but there is an odd feeling he gets on arrival, something like a vague unease. He gets the feeling this is the sort of thing you see in movies like THE WICKER MAN (the original) and other such horror-movie gems.

"UHM...do you mind if I hang around you? I'm afraid I'm going to get lost..."

Lara Croft has posed:
As they make their way toward the drums, the sound of people calling out in the darkened woods and the firelights, Lara hears Peter's hesitant reaction to all of this and she can't help but laugh softly at his question. "That'd be fine." She tells him in response. "I don't plan to participate in what they're doing, I'm merely here to observe and get a better understanding of what all of this entails, at least in this... modern incarnation."

It's around then that the man calls out to them to come closer and Lara hooks her thumbs under the backpack straps and does just so, walking to where there is seating. She finds a chair and takes her backpack off then to set it at her feet.

"This is quite a gathering." Lara tells that man in the shorts that had beckoned them over. Her eyes go over faces, the people in the water, Abcde and everyone else around...

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    Abcde walks over to the greeting man and offers her hand to him, "Merry meet." She smiles and says, "Thank you." A sandwich, why not? Her eyes keep being drawn to the ritual taking place in the water. They have sanctified it. Could just be a lucky guess, or may be someone here knows what they're doing.

    "It's fine I like to get the lay of the land anyway. Has anyone closed the circle yet?," she asks, curious if that'll mean anything to them at all. If they are able to do a real moon bathing but they don't know the dangers they are inviting in... she pulls back her hood to seem slightly more personable.

    Her eyes travel over Lara and Peter and she smiles. British, Polish, Estonian, Finnish, Swedish, and of course American and Canadian. What a mixing pot. "Hi," she says to the pair and asks, "Not here for a dip then?" Curious, she wonders if she's finally found the inevitable skeptic journalists.

Jane Foster has posed:
Anyone wants food or drinks, they can help themselves to familiar fare to any American, with a distinct Eastern European slant. The Swedish fellow acting as the greeter gives a wave to Lara and Peter, sensing possibly the unfamiliarity. "All very good, yes. You can watch and get comfortable. It's a bad party if you do not have a good time." He points to a row of towels left on a log, spread out in a colourful array of leaves and turtles and rainbow stripes. "No need to worry about being cold too. Extra for anyone who swims or you can sit over there. Hand a towel when someone needs it, you know?"

His English is very good, for all of its Swedish overtones. In the background, the girls and guys in their swimsuits are increasing in number as the guests strip out of Patagonia fleeces and jeans or hiking pants, maybe cursing at the cold and hopping around trying to get a boot off. The mood seems very convivial still.

"Close a circle?" The Polish white-blonde standing on the edge of the shore laughs. "No no. Not really! Do you practice that way? It is okay. Let me check with Jena." She beams at Abcde and looks over her shoulder, but Jena apparently is helping one of the swimmers slip under the water. The lake barely ripples. Drumming slows, the thump thump thump matching a heartbeat. One of the girls flings a handful of herbs over the water and the tattooed guy's long, lean form is visible outstretched.

Magic throbs like the counterpoint melody. Building on itself, slow and purposeful. "We begin the count. We call to the moon that watches over all of us," cries Jena, still in the lake. More scattered praise comes not in English. So it's begun, filmed by at least one phone.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter looks around. He can't see everything.
He fished the small red box out of his backpack, the one the size of a matchbook, then opens his hand and whispers, "Route 1, collision-avoidance. Three seconds."
The box unfolds into a red spider with tiny propellors, and the drone takes off and begins to circumnavigate the entire area, taking pictures every three seconds.
He looks up at Abcde, then smiles apologetically. "Sorry...I'm on something of a working vacation. Peter Parker, DAILY BUGLE."

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara is pearched on the edge of a chair with her hand dipping in to her backpack to take out one of the bottles of water she'd purchased back in town. She puts the bottle between her knees and twists the cap off while her eyes roam around at everyone. She's taking in the sights of this rather impressively organized ritual with some serious Pagan roots...

"How late do you plan to be out here tonight?" Lara asks the man who seemed to be the organizer, or at least an organizer. "I would participate, but I'm a bit shy, to say the least." That's not true. "Admittedly, I'm an author and I'm hoping to watch and be able to include inspiration in my book from all of this. Which I'm certainly feeling inspired already." She says with a smile. That's also not true. Not entirely anyway. She is going to write a report about this to WAND... that counts, right?

Lara glances to Abcde and Peter, then smiles softly and takes out a small notepad to write on. IT's a digital notepad, with a textured screen that makes the stylus feel like its writing on paper. Lara is already jotting down some notes.

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    She nods, nailed it. Journalist - check. "Sorry I've never read the daily bugle, is it any good?," she asks and her eyes are drawn back to the water again. The Polish one has her attention and his striking white-blonde hair. She opens her mouth to respond to them, but then Jena is called for.. who is conducting a ritual.

    She mutters to herself, "Everyone has practiced  that way for eons." Her brow furrows with concern and listens to the words Jena is saying, "Whose moon are you calling to?" She looks up in to the night sky at the moon. Not everything is a given when intention means more than words. She can feel the magic growing. If a mere human witch can feel it, she worried what magical creatures might be drawn in too.

    Still, there's a morbid fascination growing. This may do ... something ... and she wants to see it in action. It is not a form she is familiar with, her magical heritage from southern Europe - Italy. There were plenty of cross pollination over the centuries. "I'm Abcde, where did you say you learned to do this?," she asks the Polish accented one.

    She has to double take at Lara's explanation of who she is and what she's doing here. As Abcde really is an author and puts these things as inspiration in to her stories. "I love books on magic, have you published? May be I've read your work."

Jane Foster has posed:
Off goes the drone to pick up interesting photographs of people in bathing suits, naughty. People eating finger foods, mmm! Someone drumming, another body in the water some thirty feet out further and barely visible at a depth of probably ten feet. Maidstone is a deep lake, gouged by ice sliding and grinding its way back into Canada like a cruel traveller taking all the treasures and leaving behind hot dogs, tabloids, and fishing lures. Another adult male in shorts, not moving, weirdly still.

Lara wins a Swedish smile for being friendly. "Is it bad to say as long as it is needed? We pack before dawn. The moon will go down and we need time to clean the park." A gesture shows the shelter and the path. "Better clean than we find it. Our present to Vermont." He nods, firmly believing that. He returns her smile. "Shy is fine. We all swim well, you know? One of the girls can take you and no one will look your way. I promise." His smile shrinks a bit, his face more serious. "It is best for you to feel safe. Welcome. Can I help?"

A distance off, Jena raises her wet hands to shape the circle of the moon. She does not move from the man only a few meters submerged from her, watching carefully> The warm drumbeats keep playing that steady pulse into the night, every tenth stroke dipped harder. Someone's counting by tens. Or it would be easy to do it.

The Pole says, "My grandmother. She kept the old ways even when it was not okay. You know, Soviet? No good." She shakes out that glorious mane of hair and breathes in deeply, smiling. "Publish? You mean write books? We do it all online! Our videos show and tell, so much better. Come, come see the water with me." She gestures lovingly to it. "Uh, our moon? The Earth? I never try this with the moon for Jupiter or Neptune. What a beautiful idea. Ariel, the water moon."

Her fingers play through the lakewater with barely a trace. Not far off, the power is rising, sliding, taking its slow time to make the tattooed man that much more profound. It dances with the currents of a lake, levelled off by the moonlight striking the surface over him. Power that doesn't rush fast, but goes slow, encouraged by the dancers who weave and trace their routes in the shallows. Shepherding, directing.

Nothing to worry about. Really.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter pulls out a tablet and checks the feed as the pictures come in. Nope...nope...nope...WAIT.
Peter stands up. "I'm...going to get closer to the water, see what's going on. There's a guy out there and he's been underwater for awhile..."
Peter starts walking, but rather quickly. He taps the tablet. "TRACK, shot 19."
The drone obeys, moving back to the submerged man, taking pictures of him, the one known as Jena, and now taking one picture every second...

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara's eyes look up from her note taking to Abcde, it takes her a second when she realizes the woman is interested in her author story. "Oh, no, not yet." She admits. "I hope to some time this year. I'm working on my second book before I've even finished the first. But if you're interested in the discovering of the lost island of Yamatai, well hopefully you'll enjoy my first once I finally get the last bits ready and send it off to the publisher." Lara offers her hand then. "I'm Lara, Croft." She says in her London accented English.

It's POSSIBLE people have heard of Yamatai, as it was big in the news over a year ago when it was discovered, along with all the folklore surrounding the once mythical island now being completely combed over by the Japanese government today.

At the offer of having someone help her to the water, Lara just smiles and softly shakes her head. "Perhaps, if we're going to be here all night. I'll just settle in a bit more first..." She states in response.

Peter's reaction to someone being out in the water draws Lara's eyes to the Daily Bugle reporter who'd driven out here with her this evening. She moves to stand up as well, not really attuned to magic, Lara is attuned to iconography and has done enough research on this stuff on her way out here tonight to know that these people were really ... serious about this stuff.

'I have a bad feeling about this.' a scruffy nerf herder might say.

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    "The lost island of Yamatai. The fictional death bed of the witch queen Himiko of Japan? Nice topic!" She shakes Lara's hand, "Abcde Prescelta." The author of a popular book about a young witch learning the ways of the world and numerous short stories on the internet building up the same world.

    When Lara decides to settle a bit she turns back to the Pole. Learnt from family? Well, that's alright then. She relaxes a touch and smiles. "Yet more bad times for magic hm? May be one day people will stop persecuting what they don't understand and listen instead." It's what she wants to do.. understand this ritual.

    "You're human?," is her question though to the Pole. Bluntly so. Because this whole arrangement has a distinctly fairie ring about it. Not that she wouldn't be eager to learn magic from fairies too. "I've never heard of people doing magic like this without.. protection. And what if the Moon is angry?"

Jane Foster has posed:
Yamatai might reach a pagan from Sweden but he certainly knows his adventure stories. A peppering of fame goes a way. "What! You came for a moon bath? Cool!" His hand is offered back. A pair of hikers getting out to the water seem to be all about pushing the other forward first and he's about to say something but another of his friends gets to them first. "Ey, sorry. We never want someone scared pushed into it. It's not a game."

No, no that is not. The herbs match up to certain expected things, if studied: thistle, angelica, yarrow, black wormwood, adder's mouth orchid. Some of those see ritual use, the latter two exactly for one god and one god only: Czernobog. The marks to find are much harder, the groups of four everythings; camp chairs, towels, bottles of drink or platters of food. Four, four, four. Four women in the water, two more guests going under.

Something closes, clicks, and sings through the arcane spirit as they clutch Jera's hands and plunge under the cold waters. Bubbles and a squirmy kick follow, but the skillful, gentle ministrations are meant to calm in soft words and gestures. The female bather surfaces, shaking her head, gasping for air. "I can't settle down! My heart's just racing, I want to chill but it's not working."

Jera says something unheard. The bather takes slow breaths, sitting back, supported under her shoulders and clutching Jera's hand. Down, softly down.

The Pole cocks her head, clearly translating back. "Yes? The Moon is not angry. The light is true and shows the thing that is right. You know?"

Silver ripples on the water like living chrome. No one rises yet.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter's pace quickens as he gets closer. "SOMEONE CALL FOR HELP! There's a DROWNED MAN OUT THERE!"
By the time he gets to the water, he's at a full-out run, dropping the tablet at the water's edge and diving in, striking out for the one farthest out in a strong but simple swimming stroke.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara does look over to Abcde when she seems to be familiar the lore of Yamatai, and in a normal situation she might even engage with the woman about it, but with what's happening out on the waters, Lara's attention is ultimate drawn there.

Her own tablet is lowered to her side as she watches Peter making a mad dash toward the water's silvery shimmering edge. "Be careful!" She shouts after the young man who'd minutes earlier acted like he was afriad to even come in to the woods without her assistance, now he's playing hero?

Lara looks around to the others and just starts toward the water herself now, setting aside her things on a table as she passes it by... If Peter needs help, she'll... probably be the next to play hero and dive in...

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    "Is that black wormwood?," she asks not answering the 'You know?' colloquialism from the Pole. "And Adder's mouth Orchid?," she asks a second time as a look of confusion crosses her face. Why do those ingredients remind her of something?

    Her fingers trace in the air a little and she says softly, almost song like, "All that's goud is Bialbug, no more louck that's Zcerneboch. Adder's mouth and wormwood black, gives appetite for human blaud."

    She narrows her eyes a little and peers at The pole.. and then Peter's cries for help snap her out of her wary state. Like others she starts to rush to the water, but the throng of magic has her worried and the way the water is shimmering now in the full light of the moon.

    "I don't think the moon can show that which is right if it is reflected upon itself. What is under the lake's surface?," she queries with concern. A hand ducks behind her back and she discretely draws her wand out, clasped in her palm and pressed to her thigh to keep it less conspicuous.

Jane Foster has posed:
A startled look comes from the other guests farting around, recording things and girding themselves for their turn. Shocked looks follow someone shouting on the shore, a guy running fast as he can for the shoreline. One of the guys in shorts snatches up a towel and chases after him, but he hasn't quite got the speed to match Peter.

The girls in the water swivel, two of them watching the two bathers gone under. Jera bends and puts her body in the way. "You cannot scare them when they go under!" She squeezes the girl's hands. The man under the water beside her is staying under, but turning, alarmed, while his pagan partner flashes a worried thumbs up. Flailing around in the shallows is a good way to cause trouble, someone gets clonked by an arm and everything goes to chaotic wilds.

Old, hungry magic seethes through the water. Not that Peter is likely to be bothered. Cold lake is cold! He has to get a fair ways up the narrow bay to find his quarry, that's one thing. Getting him out from twenty feet or more or water, another thing.

The Pole's still shocked, jaw dropped, not even capable of answering Abcde except in her native language. <<What is she even talking about? Sven! Sven, I can't understand her. Translate?>>

Peter Parker has posed:
He swims fairly well for a guy who is fully-dressed. Fairly well, indeed.
He reaches the man in deep water, then takes a breath and dives down, glad the suit under his clothes is providing some insulation from the icy water. He grabs the man (and can he ever GRAB) and pulls him up out of the water, pulling him towards the shore.

He still has a chance. The body is cold, which is better than it sounds. An EMT once told him, "You're not dead until you're WARM and dead." Maybe there's a chance.

Why the Hell isn't anyone else vacating the water?

Lara Croft has posed:
With a potential medical emergency unfolding, and seemingly not many people as concerned as they should be, Lara's focus is solely on that of Peter getting the man up out of the water and pulling him toward the shore.

Lara is there, waist-deep int he water, when Peter gets him that far. She's up to her waist in the freezing cold water and moving tohelp Peter now.

"Come on, up here." She urges. "Is he breathing?" She asks in a hurried tone of voice now.

She shoots a look toward the ones on the shore that she believed were the organizers of this. "I think you better get your people out of the waters, this party has taken a wrong turn."

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    Of course, there's entirely a possibility here that Peter is overreacting and creating a panic where none need exist. But you never know.. and if the moon is their patron, then the moon should be the one to show the truth they have asked it to grant.

    Her hands begin to glow blue as magical energies swirl above her palms and fingertips. She lifts up her wand and points it to the water as she says, "splendor lunae illuminabit aqua clarior inanis" The blue energies jump from between her hands, down along the wand and splash out over the water.

    All at once, as the magic spreads, the reflection of the moon dampens and its light penetrates clearly in to lake showing all that is taking place below the surface. Strangely, the people under the water, just look like they're chilling, zoning out - even the guy with tattoos. Abcde is not quite sure what to make of this display, except perhaps that may be they've just ruined the evening for everyone.

Jane Foster has posed:
Concern is a funny thing. People shouting and waving their arms can produce delayed reactions or none at all, that whole 'wait for someone to call 911' problem that ends up with victims dead from heart attacks, bee stings, and scares.

The startled watchers and confused reactions do move, not all at once or all together, but some do. The drummer taps his hands and falters, because someone actually went jumping in.

Sven -- the Swede -- is still torn between the Polish girl, Lara, and the madness. "I was not listening to her?" He really wasn't, Abcde wasn't talking to him. Staggering a few steps, he hustles after a blanket. First bet is the right one. The other man with a towel has something to at least fling over the wet, heavy body being pulled out from the water. Will burritoing help?

They have totally ruined this evening of moon bathing and prancing around honouring the black god of the Slavs. Jera frowns and scoops up her bather with some difficulty, pulling her into a protective cradle. "Ah, ah, hold your breath. We go to shore, all nearly done. Slow, slow, slow." The girl blinks away water, her skin immaculate, mouth pink, face pretty.

The other two aren't coming straight up, of course, tattoos man zen in his experience, further out among Lara and Peter dragging in someone. And the other blonde, /she/ is still trying to keep her bather safe and chill. He seems to be mostly cooperative, one kick aside. Mostly.

Peter Parker has posed:
The guy is heavy...but then again, heavy for some is not heavy for others, and Peter seems to pull himself, his heavy clothing, and the unresponsive swimmer out of the water with no trouble at all.
"Lara! My backpack has a medical kit! Get it and the black plastic box from inside, quick!"

He checks the man for a pulse, for a breath, for anything blocking the airway.

And THEN his Spider-Sense goes off. Not him, but behind him.
*Oh, NOW you show up!*
Peter chances a look behind him, in the direction of the sudden rise of some intangible threat...

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara's up to her waist in the cold water when the spell ist cast on the surface of the shimmering silver moon-washed water. She's paused by the sight that it yields too, like a spotlight to what's happening under the rippling surface.

It's... so strange!

But ultimately the shouting from the shore, the person with the blanket, and Peter's commands to her to go back to their things at the chairs has Lara turning away from the water and treading her way back toward that direction.

She crawls her way out of the water and her lower body sheds the lake water across the earth, turning the dirt to mud as she hurries to their stuff...

She's soon to arrive back at Peter with both of their backpacks in hand now, her eyes glancing down at the man he'd pulled from the lake and then up to him.

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    "Ah heck, there go those good good vibes," she says with a sigh and concern. Peter's mad rush to the water had her worried too all because she let an old nursery rhyme spook her. These Europeans are such lovely people and they seem to be doing something good here, sharing an art they learnt from the ancestors. Paranoid, she thought the worst and expected it.

    Her wand slips back in to its holster hidden underneath her jacket. "I'm so sorry," she says looking at the sudden action and confusion spreading everywhere. It wasn't, specifically, her fault. Peter would have ruined the evening if she were here or not. But she did just throw magic in to their sanctified ritual space and that's just rude.

    "I heard him call out and I thought someone was in danger.. how can I help?," Abcde asks the nearest looking European. Lara seems to have a mission and she's not even sure these people were drowning at all.

Jane Foster has posed:
Intangible threats... as the Swedish bikini team? Because two blonde women are unlikely to represent much of a threat in all honesty. One of them has her arms full of the lone female in the water, who is groggily peering around at all the fuss. Not likely the bather being carried is the cause of setting of the Spider Sense.

The one who shakes as she gets out of the shallows, holding out her arms for balance? She surely isn't a problem as she calls out for a towel in Russian. Is she? Her hair hangs in dripping waves, and she spryly hops over a slippery trail Lara left.

Two in, two out. That's all there is.

The Polish girl is still gawping and irritated, hauling herself up the shore and peering out over the moonsilvered water. "Maybe you drink some tea and sit. Her bath is done so soon. Look, she will not be so happy," she mutters snippily at Abcde. Water still and cool rests behind, the splashing down to naught.

Trying to perform CPR on the swimmer hauled out is messy; his lungs are full of water, and pumping them out takes a bit. But clammy skin and no bruises or cuts meet the eye. Gushes of lakewater out, not much air in. No heartbeat.

Peter Parker has posed:
Peter popped the black case and pulls out two thin rectangles, one on the chest, one on the side.
It's getting closer. And its the Russian one. He knows it. He just doesn't know WHY.
"Everyone get clear." He looks to Lara, pointing to a big red button on the black box. It looks like some kind of defibrillator, but it appears to be too small for that. "When that beeps, press the button. It's got five charges. The Russian woman is looking a little hinky. Be careful."

Peter stands up, shooing people away. "Everyone stand back, give us some breathing room." He pauses, then says, "If you want to be helpful, get that other guy out of the water, the one with all the tattoos."
He faces the Russian woman, readying for something. He just wished he knew WHAT...

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara drops down to her knees on the shore and shoves the sleeves of her hoodie up to her elbows. Her eyes are on the man that Peter initially drew out of the water. She hears Peter's words as he gets that shocker kit out of the bag and nods her head to them. "Right." She says. "Not a problem."

Lara ISN'T aware of the tattoo sleeve man being still under water as her focus is on this more immediate task at hand...

She does hear the shouting and does glance up to the water again for a moment but the beep draws her attention and she slams on the red button just as directed!

RED BUTTON!

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    The magic that Abcde cast to illuminate the water runs out. In the most natural of ways, a way that could be entirely plausible that nothing had ever happened. Clouds flow through the sky and obscure the moon casting the entire party in to a deep darkness while-ever the clouds persist.

    As she is chided at by the Pole with gorgeous white-blonde hair, she catches one last glimpse of the man with the tattoos. Her eyes widen a moment and she throws off her jacket and kicks off her shoes. "There's another!," she calls out and runs in to the water.

    Dipping down underneath the surface feels like entering another world, especially when the shadows of the clouds spread across the lake. She kicks her feet and scoops the water ahead of her heading darkly in the direction of the man who had yet to surface.

    'Abcde', she tells herself, 'this is not your shtick. You do the magic and you let the heroes do heroic things.' She shakes her head as her hair untangles itself and flows with a life of its own in the water. She kicks and reaches out an arm to try to find the man.

    The blue magical energies swirl in front of her hand like an anglerfish dangling a light ahead of itself, providing her the only light she currently has to guide her. It is weak though, not like when she uses her magic wand.

Jane Foster has posed:
Russian woman aiming at Peter is an absolute certainty... until he gets up. He points at the girl with the red button. The famous person with the red button!

Her position changes and she runs full bore at Lara, who made the mistake of pressing the red button. Zapped electricity races into the guy on the ground with limited effect, though the machine operates correctly. The Russian pagan leaps to collide with Lara. If she hits, it's hard. Not like a healthy diet of vodka and borscht should allow.

The drummer and the other blond at the water cut their losses; they hit the lake, plunging in to help Abcde. Or so it seems, until they are rapidly departing that spot where the witch went in. Jera is left to swivel after putting down the prettier bather and she curses at seeing the pale blue light bobbing around. Abcde might have spoiled something, sending her running for the lake. It's to dive in, not to help.

Which leaves the Pole girl stamping her bare feet in anger, and shouting, "What is this! You want in, you want out, you make all the hard work no help! Stop that!" Kicking the beach never helps, but her high-pitched shriek of anger is loud enough to make people's ears ring at five meters away. That's not human. At all. By the time she hits the water, those legs? Silver pale, strange.

Peter Parker has posed:
The Russian woman rushes at Lara...and almost makes it. It's the point where the thin young man suddenly BLITZES her, intercepting her, pulling her down in a slow roll on the ground nearby. The young man ends up on top of her, and then the woman's wrists and hands are pinned to the ground. The young man gets up, and then the woman's legs are also webbed to the ground, and that is all she wrote.
Peter gets up, then winces as the scream cuts through his ears like a razor. Yeah, THAT hurt. But the Polish woman then heads for the water with suddenly-silver legs...

The black case humms briefly as the heart is hit with a systolic shock, just like a regular defibrillator.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara didn't have her eyes on her sides, her peripheral picked up the sense of the woman rushing at her, but by the time she looked up, Peter was already action-heroing his way past Lara to intercept and tackle the woman away from her.

Lara gasps! What else COULD you do in such a situation? She gasps, she falls back on to her right hip in the muddy shore and then rolls over to watch the altercation unfold there, to see Peter 'web the girl to the ground. That's weird, right? Good thing Lara doesn't know her Superheroes very well... never been her field of interest in pop culture.

"The other woman, the one that arrived just ahead of us. Where is she?" Lara calls out as she starts to stand up and rise to her feet. The water...

Now, of course, Croft has to start heading back toward the water, suddenly cracking a chem-light from her pocket and holding it up since the cloud cover has taken away the moonlight... she's bathed in a golden glowing glowstick glow!

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    Abcde practically collides with the man and wraps her arm about his waist, putting a shoulder under his arm. She kicks in to the water and peers up at the shimmering surface above. It's hard work trying to lift his heavy body and she's hardly the biggest or the strongest.

    hankfully, she was taught to swim and she back kicks until both she and his head rise above the water. But he's not breathing.. and knows he feels too floppy.. this is not good. "HELP!," she calls out as she tries to backstroke with him toward the shoreline. It is clear that Abcde is not a powerful swimmer but is at least competent enough.

    She has her answer now - who pays. Beauty for life. But why? she missed the transformation of the Rusalka and the revelations it would have been. Persistently, she kicks and pushes her arm through the water.

Jane Foster has posed:
Smashing into the Russian pagan is one thing. The rusalka isn't weak but neither is she benchpressing bulldozers for fun. Before she can actually fight Peter to a standstill, her clawed fingernails raking mud and clothes, but not spider-flesh, which is unfortunate indeed.

Lara will surely appreciate having her head intact, though, considering there's now an angry woman webbed to the ground and pulling at it with only limited success. She glares murderously at the British explorer.

The woman who was dunked is safely out, sitting on the ground and looking lovely as ever. Her partner is currently being hauled out by Abcde, and getting help from some of the bystanders means soaked witch and handsome corpse will be attended upon. However, the glowstick will show the stunned man with tattoos off there in the water sitting up eventually and shaking out his wet hair, spluttering, looking fine, fine, /fine/. With a gasp, no less, he turns; damn fiiiine. All is good with his life. But in the balance, death is a sharp price for beauty. The girl seeing her boyfriend hauled out doesn't panic, but she doesn't get there in time before it's painfully obvious the throttling around his throat is plain and clear.

"Carson? Carson! What did you do?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Well, the Polish female...whatever she is, is heading out and will probably...

THWIPP! THWIPP!

And suddenly she has two weblines attached securely to her back. In the next moment, she is YANKED backward, being slowly reeled in by Peter Parker.
*Time to crank up the I Build His Tech explanation...* Peter thinks as he pulls the other one from the water like a landed trout. He pulls her an additional 30 feet from the water before he just goes to TOWN on her, covering her body from neck to ankles with strong, fresh webbing.

Suspicious Person #2...caught.
He drags the Polish woman over to the Russian one, dropping her on the ground, and applying a fresh dusting of web-net to both of them.

"All right, LADIES..." he says, tired and a little ticked off. "I wonder what the quota is for catching MERMAIDS out of season is..."

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara can't see much in the dark, and is about to take another step out toward the deeper water when the Polish woman is grabbed by 'something' and is yanked back! Lara spins around to see that Peter has her in more webbing.. naturally this makes Croft narrow her eyes, but in a haste she just turns to her bag and starts to stalk toward it, sloshing water as she once more leaves the cold lake's edge.

Down by her bag, Lara pulls open one of the side pouches and pulls out a comm device.

<"This is Agent Croft, we have a situation at my location. We need a response team here ASAP!"> She says to the WAND Dispatcher who is quick to reply to the Agent.

Abcde Prescelta has posed:
    Abcde flops on to the shore and catches her breath. That's the first time she's ever tried to save someone from drowning.. and she was too late. The clouds part and the moon comes back. Abcde starts to feel angry about what was going on here. "You monsters," she says and looks around for the Polish woman. "Liars!," she says and reaches back to draw out her wand.

    There she is. Yanked back by... journalist guy shoots webs???

    The magical shudders between her cold shivering hands and she says with malice, "natura revelare verum tuae." The blue magical energy shoots down her wand and covers over the two women bound with Peter's webbing on the ground. No moon will hide her from this. Long hair pale as willow leaves, silver-birch pale skin, black eyes, claws, webbed hands, that is what the woman is revealed to be.

    "Rusalka!," Abcde accuses and presses her palm to her forehead, "Murder mermaids," she elaborates for everyone else. "Why do you do this?," she begs of them, not one to condemn a creature to death. After all, some folk tales say they join in dancing celebrations with towns folk. These ones seem a lot less friendly. The tears that are coming out are partly hidden by Abcde being very wet and cold now.

    She peers at Lara and then Peter. Do they know each other? it seems the three of them are suddenly thrust in to a conspiracy of knowledge. "Is it the dead? is that how you make more of you?," she asks with bitterness in her voice.