Ryn, and the Misadventures of her Rather Large Mediocre Hat; Magic Strainer!

[Ryn]

Ryn, with her strainer loosely in hand, strolls down to the psychic circle. Before departing, she gives off a holler to let people know she’s heading out, and where she’s going. She sets the strainer atop her head to free up her hands, walking down to the circle using her staff as a walking stick.

Ryn rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she eventually reaches the psychic circle, blinking to clear her blurried, tired vision. as she gazes upon the bubbling circle, she takes the strainer from off her head. it made a pretty mediocre hat anyway, as the handle was rather heavy and so it really weighted down side of her head. She doesn’t like to be off balance, and it sat on her ears wrong.

She bends down to scoop the psychic energy up from the circle, and begins to sift the first point of the 5 point circle. She’s determined to make these boiling bubbles into a softer, gently simmering foam.

[Ryn]

The sun reaches Ryn’s skin through the sparse break in the woods, where the circle is situated. Z picked a really good spot for this circle, she thinks to herself. She basks in both the sun and in the silence as she focuses on sifting the second point. 40 more minutes in the semi-shaded sun won’t burn her skin.

[Ryn]

the sifting is meditative, at this point. it’s like raking a mini-rake through one of those sand-garden-thingies, if you know what i’m talking about. She gazes to her first point, compares it to the second, and decides to get started on the third. Ryn holds firm that the first few scoops and sifts are the best. The first few disruptions of something formerly undisrupted? immeasurably satisfying. She zones in, as she focuses on her duty to the circle; to sift.,

[Ryn]

one, two, three. great! close to done.

before starting up her fourth point, she takes a moment to look up to the inn, and to peer down each side of the green corridor.

The sun is shrouded by clouds at this point, but the sky is still bright and the temperature has hardly faltered. Theres a breeze, but you can’t really feel it when you’re deep in the woods. It’s still quiet here, it’s still warm. The plush moss beneath her slippers is dry; thank faerie. She takes a sip of water and does a little stretch before continuing her sifting.

[Ryn]

Ryn takes another breather after sifting the fourth star. She’s got one left to do, she could either do it now, or do it in the pitch black of the night. How could she ever leave the start without its last point? She may as well complete a puzzle but conclude her puzzling before places the last tile. Her mind is easily made; it’s safer with better visibility, and it would just feel wrong anyway. She may as well continue what she’s started in one long marathon of circle-sifting.

She stretches, and takes a few more sips of water. She’s able to take a break between each 10 minute increment of sifting, and so that’s precisely what she does. She watches a bird in the trees above while she finally finishes her bottle of water. She gives one final stretch, places her bottle by her staff that’s propped up on a tree beside her, and begins sifting the 5th and final point of the star.

[Ryn]

feeling satisfied, Ryn gives the strainer one final smack and shake over the circle, in an effort to rid the strainer of any residual psychic energy. All 5 points of the five-point star have been sifted.

She sets her strainer aside, and allows the circle to tether onto her wrist. She offers the circle 5 states, and it draws them from her before she can muster up her offering.

The circles tolerance of this containment aught to be rewarded, building rapport while keeping the town safe is a major win-win. So It gets a few states, as a treat.

Ryn collects her staff, tucks her waterbottle into her belt, and places the strainer on her head as she walks back to the inn. The strainer tilts down to one side, weighted down by its hefty handle.

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