Bay Leaves and Amber Eyes

RP Date: 2026-10-25

Location: The Watch Tower (exterior)

Participants: Desiree, Spizzzo

Summary

Desiree braves the strange terrors of Grimwych, traveling outside the farmhouse and coming face to face with the unknown. Spizzzo makes a new friend.

This archive was published after approval by all listed participants.

Roleplay

Spizzzo is stacking what can charitably be called lumber planks against the side of the Watchtower, which he has salvaged by dint of punching apart a decrepit market stall. He takes a break to stir his stew, tasting it with a long wooden spoon before sprinkling in some more dried herbs.

Desiree found herself wandering from the farmhouse, finally. At some point the realization had set in that survival wasn't exactly the same thing as living, and she could only hole herself up for so long before going absolutely crazy. So, she donned an oversized sweater, some leggings, a pair of boots, and set out. Eventually her steps carried her back to where it all began; that damnedable lake. However once there, a scent wafted from a bit farther?a scent not all that unpleasant. She followed her nose as it were, coming upon Spizzzo and his stacking - and also his stew. His face, it was vaguely familiar, and she simply stood there a moment or two trying desperately to place it. After a beat, she cleared her throat. "Bay leaf. I don't really know what it contributes, but I hear it should be added to everything."

Spizzzo smiles warmly and dips a different wooden ladle into the spot, pulling up a bit of stew with meat, fish, a few root vegetables, and a single bay leaf. He dollops it into a bowl before bringing it over to Desiree, pulling a smaller wooden spoon from his pocket and setting it inside for her. "Hello, Miss. Are you feeling better? Your daughter seems like she's adjusting well, I'm sure it was very strange to transition."

Desiree hesitates before accepting the bowl, possibly too trusting for her own good with some things. Her eyes scan the bowl and its contents and she ever so subtly angles her head as if listening to or for something, something that doesn't sound. There is a pause while she sighs quietly, coming back to the here and now with a small, tempered smile for the man. "The lake," she nods. "That's where I saw you. Not one of my finer moments." With a self deprecating smirk, she stirs the stew with the given spoon. "Thank you, I'm not really sure how to pay? and yes, better, all things considered. You? You seem to be adjusting as well as Lettie has."

Spizzzo smiles softly and dips his head, going back to stirring the stew pot idly to give Desiree a bit of distance. "I don't think any of us were at our best that week. And it's been easy for me, easier than most. I don't have any memories before the lake to make me sad, just new friends to keep warm. Spizzzo, by the way. Spizzzo Spizzzoson." He glances over at the tea bags he received from the spirit of Grimwych, then at Desiree. "Would you like some tea?"

Desiree looks around for some place to park her behind as soon as Spizzzo busies himself. Actually, the ground looks perfectly fine, so she steps a few feet closer and folds herself down, Indian style, the stew in her lap as she begins to eat. Her brows crinkle as the different flavors begin their tango. "This is different. It's good." She takes another spoonful after blowing on it. "Very good. Thank you. And I'm Desiree, Desiree Sinclair. It's nice to properly meet you this time, Spizzzo. Um?" her spoon is lowered as she takes on a bit of an embarrassed expression. "Sorry for all of that, by the way. I remember yelling and throwing something? Not much more after that until a couple of days later. I can remember bits and pieces, not everything. It's odd, how people are so different. You can't remember anything. My sister, she's here too, remembers every last detail. Lettie and I remember some things." She shakes her head, wiping a hand across her face. "And then there's the post office and its mail and parcels and that morse code machine constantly clicking. Did you hear about the shadow monster? That woman was crazy screaming. I haven't seen it yet but I have no doubts it's out there." Around then is when she realizes she was rambling, and briefly clenches her silver eyes closed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to just go on a tangent there. Tea would be great. You don't happen to have any coffee do you? I have searched almost this whole damned village. Maybe they just didn't drink it."

Spizzzo drops one of the tea bags into a wooden mug, then uses a stout branch to tip a separate small pot of simmering water into the mug. He takes a moment to warm his hands and enjoy the smell, before handing it over to Desiree. "I had a mug, it apparently wasn't to my taste. I wish it tasted more like it smelled." He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on who threw what at who, and moves on, "No coffee. And no shadow monster that I've seen. Perhaps it's afraid of the fire? Or I could just be lucky. I've been rather lucky, truth be told."

Desiree accepts the mug with a grateful nod, carefully balancing it alongside the bowl in her lap. She gives the tea a tentative sniff before taking a small sip, her expression thoughtful as she considers the flavor. "Lucky," she repeats, turning the word over as though it were something foreign. "That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. Stranded in a strange place, surrounded by abandoned buildings, mysterious mail, and possibly murderous shadows." She gestures vaguely with her spoon. "But you've got a fire, a decent meal, and apparently an endless supply of optimism. Maybe you're onto something." She smiles as her silver gaze drifts toward the collection of battered planks leaning against the Watchtower. "What are you building, anyway? Or are you just taking out your frustrations on the local architecture?"

Spizzzo smiles and flexes his right hand, squeezing it into a fist briefly before releasing. It's unmarked and otherwise the mirror image of his left. "The stairs going to the top of the tower need repair before I trust my weight to them." He glances at the wood pile sheepishly before admitting, "I also was upset that my calculations for how far the horizon should sit didn't match my observed reality. I tried punching the ritual stone first, but it was less yielding than the innocent market stall. It wasn't very fair of me, and I regret it."

Desiree pauses with her spoon halfway to her mouth, slowly lowering it again as she regards him with an expression somewhere between amusement and genuine curiosity. "You punched a stone." It isn't quite a question. Her gaze flickers briefly toward his apparently uninjured hand before returning to his face. "And when the stone didn't cooperate, you assaulted a market stall." She presses her lips together, making a valiant effort to contain the smile threatening to spread across them. "Well, I suppose we've all got our ways of coping." Another bite of stew is taken before something else he'd said finally catches up with her. Her brows draw together slightly. "Wait. What do you mean the horizon isn't where it's supposed to be?" She glances off in the direction of the lake, then back to him. "Because I've been operating under the assumption that this place is simply strange, but you're making it sound like it's fundamentally wrong."

Spizzzo starts sketching out diagrams of rotating spheroids and complicated equations using a symbolic language as he explains, "Well, at the time, I thought maybe if the horizon was wrong, then Grimwych itself might be an illusion. The math should be what's true, and anything that failed to conform to the math must be false. If I believed that firmly enough, I thought the stone would yield. I was wrong." He finishes the quick version of his equation, leaving it for Desiree to observe, then nods. "A new friend made me realize that I had made too many assumptions. Grimwych might not be a full planet, but a magical construct."

Desiree watches as the diagrams and equations take shape, her silver eyes following the movement of his hand with an increasingly bewildered expression. At some point she abandons all pretense of understanding, instead taking another bite of stew while he finishes. "Well," she begins after a moment, studying the finished work. "I recognize some of those symbols. I think." A faint smile tugs at her lips. "But if you're expecting me to check your work, we're both going to be terribly disappointed."
She grows quiet, considering what he'd said. "A magical construct," she repeats thoughtfully. "That would explain a few things, wouldn't it? The lake. The way people arrive. The fact that nobody seems able to leave." Her spoon idly traces a circle through the remaining stew. "But if someone created this place, then they must have had a reason." Her gaze lifts to his. "And I can't decide whether that's comforting or absolutely terrifying."

Spizzzo sweeps his arm wide, taking in the little campsite, the tower, the lake. The stew, the tea. "I don't mean to diminish how disconcerting it is to be away from home. To potentially have family you want to return to. But truly, this is a beautiful land that provides for our needs." He smiles and takes in the spices he's acquired, "Most of my seasonings were given to me by the spirit of Grimwych, left in the post office. The tea as well. To keep us warm and fed, the notes said." He smiles and looks back to Desiree. "I don't know how long we'll be here. But we will be safe. I've made such good friends as well. Clever hunters, wise warriors. Even a man who I think must have been some sort of knight or guardian. Reznor promised to watch over us all, and keep us safe from dangers in the night, as I keep us warm and fed."

Desiree listens with a small smile, finding something almost enviable about his outlook. When he mentions family, however, her expression falters. Sypher. The thought of him brings with it the memory of a small parcel, the worn piece of tusk nestled inside, and those four ridiculous, wonderful words. <i>Fucked up is still Family.</i> She'd recognize his sentiment anywhere. Her thumb absently brushes the side of her mug as she swallows against a sudden tightness in her throat. Gods, she missed him. But Spizzzo is still talking, and she makes an effort to listen. Something about hunters, warriors, and?<i>Reznor.</i> Her spoon stops spinning around the bowl. Slowly, those brilliant silver eyes lift to his face. "Reznor?" The name comes quietly, almost cautiously. "You said Reznor." A small, disbelieving laugh escapes her as she sets the spoon aside. "Dark hair? Golden eyes?" She hesitates, "Rather handsome, in an infuriating sort of way?" Lettie had said she'd seen him, but with the tricks the spirits in this place played, there had been doubt.

Spizzzo smiles brightly, eyes going big. A chance to bring good news to someone! "I would say his eyes were more like warm amber. Almost like a nice cider, on a chill autumn evening. A noble bearing, strong jaw, quite handsome I think. A warrior who sees to the truth of things. Who would defend his friends and family against any and all." Spizzzo met the man for about fifteen minutes. These are all deeply held conjectures that he will take to his grave. "I'm so glad so many of you have come over with at least a portion of your family units. More evidence that Grimwych cares for us, I think."

Desiree feels her breath catch somewhere in her chest. Amber. Not gold, not brown, but that particular shade of amber she'd know anywhere. For several seconds she simply stares at him, and then a laugh escapes her, soft and a little unsteady. She lifts a hand to her mouth, blinking rapidly against the sudden sting in her eyes. Gods, how long had it been since she'd cried? Two days? Three? Surely she was overdue. "Oh, Gods." Her smile grows despite her best efforts to contain it. "That's him. That's really him." She lowers her hand, looking almost embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion. "I'm sorry. I just...you have no idea what you've just given me." She pauses, then adds with a soft chuckle, "Though I'm not entirely certain he'd agree with your assessment of his nobility." Her gaze returns to Spizzzo, hope now unmistakable in those silver eyes. "Have you seen him recently? Do you know where he might be?" On second thought, she shakes her head and waves away the question. "Actually nevermind. That's rude of me to even ask, as if you're his keeper or something." The bowl, empty, and cup, also empty, are nodded at. "Would you like me to wash these? It's the least I can do considering all you've given me."

Spizzzo reaches out to take the dishes, his large hands easily enveloping them and tugging them away from Desiree with a gentle, but glacial strength. "Please. You do me a great service by granting me your company. If I don't have dishes to keep my hands busy, I might punch another rock." He shakes his head st his own foolishness, before adding more quietly, "I haven't seen him recently. But I think that is partly by design. I believe he keeps opposite hours to myself." Spizzzo looks away from the fire out over the lake. "I think perhaps his rejection of the assessment is evidence of its accuracy." He smiles and dips a bit of boiling water into the dirties. "You should know, if anything goes poorly in town?" He gestures to the watch tower behind him. "Nobody who comes here will be sacrificed against their will."

Desiree relinquishes the dishes with a grateful smile, though she can't quite resist a chuckle. "Well, we certainly can't have you terrorizing any more innocent rocks. They've suffered enough." She pushes herself to her feet, brushing the dirt and stray bits of grass from her leggings. Having felt the effortless strength with which he'd taken the dishes, she has little doubt the man could make good on his promise. Anyone seeking refuge in this little haven of his would be in capable hands, indeed. "I've heard about the journal. The sacrifices." Her expression sobers briefly. "I hope it never comes to that. But I'm glad there's someone willing to shield anyone against it." She was pro-going-home by any means, but she wasn't heartless and didn't <i>want</i> to see anyone murdered. She glances toward the lake before turning a warmer smile upon him. "I should probably be getting back. Thank you, Spizzzo. For the food, the company..." Her smile softens. "And especially for the news. You have no idea how much that means to me."

Spizzzo smiles again and sets the dishes down for a moment. To soak. "Of course, Desiree. I am so pleased to be able to give you good news. Grimwych truly is a land of plenty."