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[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.

Mar. 21st, 2014 07:45 pm
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[personal profile] irondruid
I never really appreciated just how difficult it is to teach an apprentice. I knew it would be tough the second I said yes to Granuaile, because becoming a druid takes practice, patience, and most of all, time. Twelve whole years of it.

Seven years in, and I've long since understood what difficult truly means. Sometimes Granuaile gets frustrated (who can blame her? I wasn't much better during my own apprenticeship), and sometimes I channel my old archdruid more than I care to admit. He was a shit excuse for a human being, but a brilliant druid and teacher. I'm being a bit of the former today, I will admit, and coupled with Granuaile's frustration over our current project, the day hasn't been going well. At all.

When Granuaile slams a door in my face for the third time today, I decide we should probably take a break. I hear the Geekmobile start up and drive off, and I sigh. She'll be going into town to blow off steam, and I've long since stopped tailing her, content to let us both cool off and come back when we can handle it.

I'm about to reach out to Oberon as I go down the hall and open my bedroom door, but as I step through, everything changes.


"So this wasn't a weird fever dream," I say out loud. I scrunch my bare feet in the carpet and take off down the hall that opens out into a lobby that looks very familiar. I head over to the main doors and peer outside. Yep, the view is exactly as I remembered it, and I'm glad I haven't eaten since dawn.

I turn back to face the lobby and take a good look at the people around, and wonder who I'll meet this time. Thor again? Al Capone? Ooh, Captain Mal? Fingers crossed it's someone interesting.

Maybe I'll have some more time to study the magical patterns here and figure out how they work - and how I can work with them.

I can find the door home in a little while.

Aug. 5th, 2013 10:54 am
irondruid: (007)
[personal profile] irondruid
Cut for light spoilers up to Tricked. )

I never thought about travelling the Old Ways to get away (too much attention), and I picked our location because it was as far from the old ways as you could possibly get.

Which doesn't explain why I've ended up in some sort of art gallery.

My sandals squeak on the polished floor as I spin around and open the door I just came through. No cabin, no woods, no Granuaile or Oberon -- this is not good. At all. I didn't go and fake my death to ensure our safety just to get lost right before I could even start training Granuaile.

I activate my faerie specs charm -- it allows me to view auras and enchantments in the magical realm, very neat and kind of cool, if I do say so myself -- and I see nothing I recognize. Magic has a certain kind of aura about it, one that I can pick out and read as easily as Dr. Seuss after two thousand years of working with it. The fact that I've never seen this sort of aura before scares me.

With the faerie specs charm still going, I walk toward the big double doors that seem to spill out into a much larger room and hey, look at that.

"Welcome to Hotel California. Such a lovely place," I say to myself, taking it all in.

It's gorgeous, I'll give it that. But I've always been wary of pretty things when there's magic of this magnitude involved. Especially magic I don't recognize. Who has enough power to transport someone from the middle of nowhere to a hotel like this? Probably a god. And why? Well, there's a long list of reasons why any god would do it, that's a silly question to ask.

I'm just going to cross my fingers and hope it's not Odin.

"Excuse me," I say, trying to to catch the attention of a passing bell hop. "What's the name of this hotel?"

The look he shoots my way makes me turn off the charm and look down at myself. Oh, yeah. T-shirt, pants, sandals, and sword hanging off my back - I'm probably not the sort of clientele this hotel sees.

[OOC: Please skim this! Especially the bit about tattoos.]


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