Aug 07 18:49:14 109 PA - It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Goes to the Museum

From Chronicles

Aug 07 18:49:14 109 PA.

PLAZA PARK

Looking a bit odder than usual, the woman known as Whitefeather rests upon the ground, legs folded beneath her in that manner that was colloquially called 'Indian Style'. Appropriate, perhaps, in this case. At any rate, her bow is laid across her lap, her hands resting on either side of it. Her eyes have a sort of dull, far-off look, as of someone concentrating, while their pupils are slightly, but still noticeably dilated. Horse is nowhere to be seen right now.

Gabriel enters the park from Main Street, whistling a pleasant tune that is also somewhat martial in nature but clearly serves to keep him smiling. With hands in his pockets, his uniform is crisp and neat, even as the end of the work day gets closer. Since there is at least an hour to go of open hours, he might be here for business or pleasure, it's anyone's guess. But being the kind of person to be on the safe side, he's appropriately armed as always goes with the uniform. The odd-looking Indian woman is a point of note, and he starts to make his way in that direction, whistle changing to quiet words. "...under from His holy dwelling and roar mightily against His land, He will shout like those who trea...."

Whitefeather eventually cranes her neck, turning at the waist when she hears Gabriel approaching,"You are an odd man, Gabriel. I know little of you and your beliefs. So I asked a learned man. It seems everything he knew about your faith, and your people was expressed in a series of quotations. He read a great many boring things at great length, but there was one thing he said that I think can be applied to many worthy endeavors. Aiya. 'The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried.' A man named 'Jeekay Chesterton' said this. Do you often find such a problem with your worthy endeavors?" She returns her head back, resuming her same spaced out expression before, declaiming,"He yauh ho."

"Huh?" is Gabriel's philosophic reply. He pulls up near the woman who is at least as odd. "I don't think you need to do any damn reading, it's pretty clear. People who write about religions and such, telling everybody why they're good or bad, right or wrong are usually the ones that I expect will have a lot of explaining to do. Who would be so righteous as to believe that they have the answers for anyone else? I mean, sure. I've told certain people my beliefs, but I've never pressed them on a single person in my life, unless you count my own children - which I don't." His arms are crossed, then uncrossed so that his hands can find his pockets again. With a lilt, he asks, "Who is this 'learned man' anyway?" He follows it up by gesturing toward her meditation. "You don't exactly seem to fit in either, you know. Told me a lot more about your religion than I've bothered you with mine, haven't you?"

Whitefeather wrinkles her nose a little bit,"I went to a book vendor. I had him read to me. He enjoyed the sound of his voice, and I was eager to listen. It was an excellent arrangement, for the time. I particularly enjoyed Augustine of Hippo, ayep. A wise man, and worldly, for someone so dedicated to the mysteries of the spiritual world." As anyone of priestly bend would be to her. "To be fair, you are correct. I haven't ever fit in a single day in my life. But that is to be expected. As for my religion... We do not see it as a religion, so much as a facet of life. But it is to be expected. Until I was sixteen years of age, I was in training to replace my band's shaman. Even now, I am still technically equivalent in my social status to something I think you might call a... 'lay priest', I believe is the term." She rises, and stretches her limbs left and right. "I think maybe our concepts of what constitutes religion are different, my friend. Suffice to say, I am impressed by what I have heard. I think I trust you a little more for it."

Gabriel dips his head. "I appreciate that?" One of those statements that's also a question. "You can't generally judge anyone based on a religion. I don't even believe in the Pope. One man that God talks to who's supposed to disseminate information? I don't think so," he says with a shake of his head, and while he clearly has more to say on the subject, doesn't. "Maybe you should get your head out of the spirits so much, and focus on the here and now. That's what Mom believed. 'Keep the spirit alive, but the world is real.' Telling a man 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,' is a grand thing to hold over a person's head, and a good reason to thump a bible, but it's not realistic. If that happened, all the good guys would be dead, and all the meek would be oppressed by the bad guys who would have taken over the planet."

Whitefeather smiles in a rather amused manner,"I live in a world where the real world and the spirits are one. I speak with them, they come to me in dreams. I have traveled the Hunting Grounds across entire continents. I have even counted coup in their honor once or twice when we clashed with another tribe." It's a warm smile at least,"They touch my life in every aspect, you see."

"I suppose you have more proactive angels than I do," Gabriel states with a little laugh. He kicks the dirt with his heel. "What're you doing hanging out here at this hour? I mean, I can see that you're meditating, but as beautiful as the area is, it becomes dangerous at night. For everyone." He offers up a smile. "I'm sure your family would like to see you in one piece at some point in the future, wouldn't they?"

Whitefeather smiles a little bit at the man at that question,"One day, I will try to see it less dangerous. I do not fear it. But if it will assuage your conscience, I will retreat from this place for now. It must be calmed one day, though. It would be good medicine." She nods to the man though, chuckling at his joke. "Your kindness is welcome. I have no family, though. My parents are decades dead. People do not live quite so long on the edge of the 'Dinosaur Swamps' you see."

"So I've heard. Young woman passed through here a couple of months ago traipsing around in a huge suit of powered armor, flexing her hydraulic muscles and bragging about how tough she was in the swamps." Gabriel scratches at his chin. "Haven't seen her for a long time, though. Even then, only saw her a couple of times. Any place can be deadly, if you're in the wrong hands, or the wrong kind of person. Or just have pure bad luck."

Whitefeather nods to Gabriel,"You do not survive the swamps by destroying everything that challenges you. You survive by leaving when something bigger than you decides to make you dinner. There are a great many braggarts in this place. The one with the cape. I worry for him. He makes of himself a target, and he hungers for glory. Takes too much pleasure in telling people they are wrong. There are many rough people who take exception to it. Even so, it isn't the monsters that roam the swamp mindlessly one must fear. It is the human monsters. It is crawling with necromancers in some places." A rare look of distaste finds her face.

"Bernard?" Gabriel tries to clarify in a monosyllable. "He's dangerous, actually. A magic user, in case you didn't catch that. Still, in the end?" The old human man gives a gentle chuckle. "He's nothing more than a common thief. Just uses magic to do it. As far as his arrogance, that seems to be a fairly constant problem among people who use magic. I've known five magic users. Three of them I wouldn't piss on if their hair was on fire. Fourth is a nice enough person but a bit mysterious, but the remaining one I would - and have - trusted with my life. Nice girl, giant bear, you'd like her. So if you do the math, that's not a real good score on their side." He waves it off, getting back to a previous subject. "I'd speak more on specifics in a more private setting."

Whitefeather nods when Bernard's name is mentioned. As to the woman with the giant bear,"Aiya, Monique. I have met. Much like my people, hers are natives of the Americas. Her companion... In the ways of my people, her companion and I are technically brothers. He is of my totem, you see. She is very kind. As it is, I rarely trust those who casts spells. Shamans are a different matter, but that is because they do not do their magic the same way. Monique, I think she is one, aiya. Unlike most who cast spells, shamans must SUFFER for their knowledge and power, and if they misuse it, they face true consequences. He yauh ho. Still, if it is your desire to speak in private, then by all means, we may do so." She stows her bow at her back, and simply waits.

"Not a desire. Just something that if it ever comes around to necessary discussion, something to be said in private," Gabriel explains, starting to walk toward Main Street. "You certainly know your way around the world, Whitefeather. I sometimes wonder if I count as a native to the Americas - and usually decide that no, I don't." He grins. "You know, you're going to give away all your secrets about spirits. Some enterprising person's going to stick it in a book or a video and try to sell your story."

Whitefeather smiles to Gabriel,"We would give this information to anyone. It cannot be abused. And if someone wishes to buy the story, I hope it enriches their lives to profit from it. You know by now, I think, that I care little for money. Would you like to join me in a hunting expedition soon? I usually keep some, trade a little for things I need, and then the rest goes to the refugee compound. I think you would enjoy the exercise." Latching her hands behind her head, she tromps after the man, humming something to herself between words,"If you were born here, you are native. Your people are not, but you are. You white men, some of you are curiously preoccupied by things like color, origin, and beginnings. We are more concerned with who and what you are at this moment. The Coalition, they call us short-sight savages, you know. I think maybe we just have less time to sit around and worry. Luxury is a fine thing, but it provides many opportunities to be distracted from things that are important. Then again, we have our own flaws as well. I am less inclined to speak of those, though." This last comment gives a toothy grin. "Anyway, I know my way around, I think, because I walk or ride almost everywhere I go. Some of the modern tribes tell me this is frequently frustrating!"

Gabriel chuckles again. "Whitefeather, I doubt there's any map in existence that would indicate where I'm from, making it impossible to determine my status of native or non-native. Even then, probably a matter of great philosophy that scholars would like to take up." He looks a bit more comfortable with the sun going down when his boots hit the concrete. "Not sure about the hunting, though. I told you that the wilderness is a dangerous place for me. Not the same kind of hunting that was necessary to do as a child, and then as an adult. Definitely not. But I've been helping out the refugees in my way. You have your bow, I have my.. skills - we all play with what God gave us. Or spirits gave us," he tacks on.

Whitefeather nods to Gabriel,"Your 'God', it is ironic, you know. A wen de yauh ho. It means, I am of the great spirit, it is so. The Great Father, we see offer him a certain reverence similar to what you offer your God." She gives her head a laughing shake, setting various beads, feathers, and more clicking and clacking in that long braid of hers as her moccasins tread the concrete,"Why is it more dangerous for you than for anyone else? You have many summers upon your skin. I would think such wisdom would compensate for shortcomings."

"Because Nature these days is an iron-clad bitch with animals that take shots to the head with hunting rifle better than a brick versus a BB gun, that's the problem," Gabriel explains in his own colorful way. "Sneaking around in armor is a tough thing to do. I'm not so sure that any spirit or angel of mine would be looking after my well-being as directly as yours would. No, I'm afraid that the joy of the occasional hunt has been taken away from a person as physically and mentally boring and common as myself."

Whitefeather breaks into a full-throated laughter for a good three minutes solid. Easily. "That is why you set traps. That is why hunt things like deer and rabbits. And if your spirits do not look after your well-being, I am sure it is only because they are confident you can do it yourself. Still, Bear, mother that she is would be irked by your comparison I think. Accurate. But true. The spirits... they help us, but... they do not wish to do everything for man. We would learn nothing that way. They give us advice, and gifts, and then see what we do with it." Bouncing on the balls of her feet now as she meanders down the road,"I slew a necromancer with a knife once when I was very young, but the chief of my village was a withered man who had seen three score years and could not walk without assistance, and I answered to him. There is a difference between strength and ability, Gabriel. So if you do not like the hunt, what DO you like?"

"I like peace and quiet. I like the sounds of Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman. I like raising children," Gabriel says with an honest shrug. "Teaching. Helping where I can with what gifts I have. Being able to sleep knowing that I don't have to keep one eye open. Reading books - there are some very good ones, though I think I've read most of them already." He looks to Whitefeather. "Having someone to love. Y'know, just being happy. I.. I lost one family, and then I lost second family. Then I lost my men, then I lost my wife. I do what I can here, trying to decide at every turn which person is trying to screw over the next person *less* than the other person. Nobody is fair, or honest, or altruistic just for the sake of being kind." A smile is given. "Right now, at this moment, I do have one singular purpose, and that lies in Chi-Town. I need transportation, I need some people who the Coalition won't immediately want to shoot on sight. That's what I have to do at this moment. But as for what I just 'like?' It's the other stuff."

Whitefeather shakes her head at Gabriel, expression somewhere between a smile and something else... very sad. "Aiya, there are such people in this world, Gabriel. Have you ever met a knight of the white rose? A 'Millennium Tree'? A cyber knight? These are all people I have met and admired. They are not many, no. But they exist." She actually begins to hop about a little,"How far away is Chi-town? In miles. If getting there is your problem, that at least, I may be able to help. Still, their 'Dog Boys' the children of the wolf? They would be likely to see me very quickly. Anything deeper than the burbs would be suicide." As to the other statement? "Loss is part of this life. And the longer you live it, the more acquainted with it you will grow. Just be open to the possibility that there will be more given to you. Another I am found of,'We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.' You see the the darkness in all men. Try to see the beauty in them as well."

MAIN STREET NORTH

"Unless space has warped as well as time, it's about two-hundred and sixty miles, if it could be done 'as the crow flies' as goes the expression," Gabriel says, pointing north. The Park has been left behind now, with the Museum and Enhancement Center being a new and odd counterpoint. "I've known one Cyber-Knight, yes. Fought with him once as well. He was a little arrogant, but yes, he was a decent man. I haven't seen him in a very long time, though."

Whitefeather seems to be doing some quick math in her head. "I can have you there in roughly six hours, I believe. I can do it as the crow flies. It would be boring, but I could do it." She lets her eyes skip over the Museum now, but otherwise ignores it in favor of the man she is speaking to for the moment,"Arrogance often is the result of high morals and rigid bearing. Inflexibility. It does not make him less decent. Merely more human."

"Mmm?" Gabriel asks. A wise question. "How would that work? That horse of yours faster than Silver?" The last word is clearly a pronoun. Or a proper noun. He can never remember which word applies, they're so close to each other. "See, I need to get there, but be able to transport a good-sized cargo back. Plus as I said, doing it without someone or something that the Coalition will like to shoot. These days, with what's going on at Tolkeen, even people like me might get roughed up going there."

Whitefeather lifts a shoulder,"He is not MY horse. He is Horse. He is my companion." She leaves the question of 'how' unanswered for the moment, though,"How heavy would the cargo be. How many people would go with you. Would getting back need to be achieved immediately, or is getting your cargo back your first and foremost concern?" A lot of questions, that. "Getting you near is not a problem... but there are many details." She wrinkles her nose a little.

Gabriel does some quick math, "Cargo alone is about three and a half tons, minimum and in total. Bulky cargo, not a steel safe full of gold bars. As far as the timing, as long as it gets here, there is no terrible rush that I'm aware of. I'd prefer to do it in one trip, but if necessary it could be done in multiple trips." Pointing north toward the future destination, he reiterates, "But it would be better in many ways to do it in one trip. I don't think that Horse could carry it." He gives a laugh, "I also don't think that Friday would have liked to have been named 'Dog.'"

Whitefeather nods and shrugs to Gabriel,"Horse, I don't think actually cares about names, or if he does, he has not seen fit to tell me. As I said, though, it would be difficult. I must conclude I may not be what you need. I can only manage a little less a ton, especially while flying. If I had someone helping me, it might be easier... I am sorry. You have been so kind to me, but I am afraid that I am not going to be very useful paying you back in that manner."

Gabriel smiles and waves it off. "Don't worry about it, it's my problem. Besides, unless you're flying in a vehicle, I think that'd be the type of thing that they'd want to shoot down." He pats the woman's arm. "I appreciate the thought, though. Maybe you could accompany me on the ground? Leave Horse behind, come in some standard transportation? Or... are you psychic or magic enough that the Coalition might take interest?"

Whitefeather spreads her arms helplessly before Gabriel,"I do not know what they may or may not take interest in. I am human. But the spirits have vested power in me. My psychic abilities are laughable at best." In other words, she has both. "But I am not a spellcaster, either. Do you know if they can see the unseen? If nothing else, I'd be happy to help provide an escort for you. Also... why would they not shoot down a vehicle that is not their own?" She frowns at the thought,"Aiee. If you find a place for me, I would like to help. But I do not like this, this feeling too weak to be of help."

Gabriel's eyes narrow as he tries to understand a bit of circular-explanation. "So.. in the end, you are a psychic, to one degree or another, but you do not use magic in any forms? As for seeing the unseen, that entirely depends on just how 'unseen' it is. I can see things that are supposedly invisible with a fairly cheap set of goggles." He doesn't explain the technology to a wilderness woman. Then to clarify a point that perhaps got confused, "A technological vehicle flying no unusual flag would be likely escorted or simply checked, at best. Something just plain flying, they wouldn't like at all. But I'm sure I can find a place for you. Do you know medicine?"

Whitefeather frowns a little bit at Gabriel,"I know I am a little psychic. I do not know if the magic I have is in me, or in the spirits. Only that it is a gift that allows me to... do things. I do not know how 'unseen' it is, but... I have always been completely untraceable with it in the past. Animals do not smell me, I leave no footprints, and almost no sound. Maybe your goggles can see me, maybe they cannot." She doesn't really know for sure, nor would she likely understand the explanation if he tried. "I do not heal things well if it is not myself. Most of my abilities involve hitting things or sensing things. I can sense danger and large movements through the earth, scent impurities in the air, and paralyze foes with a touch. I am very good at what I do... but what I do is very narrow."

"That is rather narrow," Gabriel can't help but admit. "It sounds like it would be exceptionally dangerous to try and take you through Coalition-held territory right now. I'd rather not see you turn up dead, and I'd rather not end up in a prison for having been seen with you. Still?" Both of his shoulders shrug. "I have something that I need to do first, before I can go up there, so I hope to get better information on what would be legal and what wouldn’t. Wanna see the Museum? he asks, pointing across the street.

Whitefeather shrugs to Gabriel,"As you wish. I have some experience with the Coalition, though I do not know how useful it would be to you." She shrugs a little bit,"I am very good at fighting, and resolving conflict... It is the purpose I was born with. But it leaves me lacking outside those arenas. I am a bear warrior, after all." She's been pretty upfront about that at least,"In the burbs, I would be fine. But once we arrived at the town, I would be of no help. Some other time. I still wish to repay you for your kindness."

KINGSDALE CITY MUSEUM

Gabriel climbs up the steps leading to the Museum like a young mountain goat. One of the people at the door seems to recognize him enough to nod in greeting. "Well, that's a lot of territory to cover, and hopefully there wouldn't be any fighting... but of course, there always is." If he thought he could get away with spitting on the floor, he probably would. "But really, I need to know more about exactly what I'm facing before I can tell you absolutely yes, absolutely no, or where you might fit in partially, Whitefeather. Over there, is a very, very small area from where I am." He waves off to one part of the rolling museum floor where a docent actually recognizes him by name and face. As much as other people may seem to fidget a little upon entering this place, he seems not to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Whitefeather get exactly one step in the door, before she goes stepping back lighting fast, eyes wide, irritated, and even a little bit angry,"Aiya, no Gabriel. No. I will not go to this place. I am sorry. It is dead. Everything is dead. I do not like it. I will not do it. It is an abomination. It is suffocation, it is death."

Gabriel's brow furrows. "It's not dead. It's just quiet. Besides," he offers, "What if you find yourself with this same feeling somewhere else, somewhere not safe? Like out in the wilderness being chased by something big and nasty that wants to eat you. C'mon in. You *should* come in." His hands rub together and his eyes are almost amused. "Some people would say, 'face your fears.' I call it getting used to what you can't change, and figuring out how to work with what you don't have." Another arm is waved encouragingly.

Whitefeather actually spits on the ground, growing more irritated,"It is not fear Gabriel. I give latitude because you do not know what you ask. What you ask me to do right now is the same as if I were to ask you to spit in your God's face and turn your back upon him." She actually spins on her heel to begin striding away,"These feelings you speak of, they are as nothing to me. I have lived my life from infancy with these realities. Even when I was empowered, there were always things large enough to easily consume me. But you ask me to commit a sacrilege. No Gabriel. T'cha." Cue huffy stamping in the opposite direction.

The man can't help but shrug and chuckle. It's not his problem to chase down a pissed-off woman who believes in ghosts then massage them back to happiness. "I'll see you outside sometime, Whitefeather," Gabriel offers before continuing on into the gigantic edifice and a few people that he knows. He does utter a last bit of thought. "If I did that, my God would understand..."