Waiting For Rain IC: Spring Slowly Comes

[the_druid_droid]

Jon let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you’re right... but where do I start? I mean, I can’t really go home right now, and that was kind of my plan.” While he spoke, Jon ran a hand through his fine brown hair and stared at the street in front of them.

“Hey, you said that people like us look out for each other, right? Do... do you know anyone that would be willing to help?” Considering that their last experience with the Fae-touched had nearly ended in being eaten alive, Jon wasn’t sure he should get his hopes up, but options were starting to wear thin.

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, I can take you to the Prince. He'll help you get set up and find your place. He's kind of like local government for Changelings," Keith said, turning the engine on again. "You came here alone, yeah?"

[BlasTech]

Charlene nodded. It was about the best they could hope to do.

As she saw the police car stop, she paused. "This is strange..." She felt it was best to stay low a little longer. "Better stay out of sight, if Jon has made some kind of deal or something we'd best not upset that."

"Okay" Isabelle nodded, following Charlene's lead. "I wonder what that robot wants from him?"

[the_druid_droid]

“Actually...” Jon hesitated; he’d been avoiding any mention of his friends, in the event that things went south. Now that it looked like he really wasn’t going to jail, and that this policeman was trying to help, his worries eased slightly, but trust was still slow in coming.

“Actually, I came with some friends of mine; other...Changelings I met on the way home, just as newly arrived as me. They got away before you showed up, and I don’t know where they are now. Even if I did, I’m not sure how they’d feel riding with us; our luck with policemen hasn’t been great so far.”

[Thanqol]

"Tell you what, I'll give you the address to the Prince's place and you and them can make your own way there," said Keith, "Figure out if it's legit on your own. I get that trust isn't exactly something that comes easy right now, and I ain't going to push you. If you decide not to, the only two rules that we really always have are 'don't kill anyone' and 'don't bring the Gentry to town'."

[Slight undertones of 'don't send a lone party member to the exposition party while the other two hide in the bushes' here]

[the_druid_droid]

“Thanks. I’ll let them know that you don’t mean us any harm, and I think we can all live by those rules.” Even as he spoke, Jon wondered where that put the giant in the scheme of Changeling law...

“If I get out here, there won’t be any trouble with your partner, right?”

[Thanqol]

"Nah, he knows the score. Most of the force knows to call me when strange stuff happens -" there was a slight twitch in the construct's knuckles, "- not that it ever does. If you ever get locked up again ask for me and I'll do my best for you, within reason."

[Deadly]

"Hard to say," Charlene whispered. She wished she could walk up and ask, but the thought grew more and more absurd as time went on. The longer she hid like this the more suspicious it would only seem to suddenly walk out. She glanced around nervously, checking again and again that no one could see them where they were. It would be hard to explain.

[the_druid_droid]

For just a moment, in light of the officer’s attitude and promise of help, Jon could almost hope that things would be getting back to normal soon. Of course, for that to be the case, there was still a lot of work to be done, so after making sure to get the Prince’s address, he thanked Keith once more and slowly climbed out of the police car to begin the search for his friends.

“Here we go,” Jon muttered under his breath.

[BlasTech]

Isabelle absent mindedly pulled a leaf from a nearby bush and began fiddling with it as she watched the police car. She knew she shouldn't worry overmuch, but the longer things stretched out the more time her mind had to come up with new and inventive scenarios about what might be going wrong.

Mercifully, Jon climbed out of the police car only a few moments later. She waited until it pulled away before giving the age old signal.

"Psst!" She whispered. "Over here!"

[Thanqol]

As Jon left the car, it pulled up and away, circling the block back to the house. The Changelings were on their own again.

[the_druid_droid]

Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, Jon followed the whisper back to locate his friends, glad that they hadn’t scattered after all.

“Well, it looks like everyone isn’t out to get us after all. The cop is definitely a Changeling like us, so he didn’t arrest me. In fact, he told me that there are more people like that around, and they mostly seem to look out for each other. He even gave me the address of someone who calls himself a Prince, that apparently helps Changelings get their bearings when they come to town.” By the end of his explanation, Jon was smiling a little in spite of himself. After all they’d been through, hope finally seemed to be reappearing.

“Do you guys want to try and find him?” From his tone, it was clear that Jon’s choice had already been made.

[Deadly]

"If there is a hope of getting some help," Charlene didn't sound completely convinced about this. But what other choices did they have? "I suppose it's the best we've got. But I insist we get rid of those bones and clean out the car, first thing, before we do anything else." She'd also like a bath and some clean clothes before seeing someone who went by the title of "prince", as pretentious and suspicious as such a title seemed to her, but they didn't exactly have any money. "Where is this prince?"

[BlasTech]

"It doesn't matter right now" Isabelle frowned, surprised at the sudden chance in topic and temperment from her friend. "Jon, what's going on? While I'm happy that you didn't get arrested, do you mind telling me why there were two of you??"

That brought out the reaction she'd expected ... although the explanation that followed, as the three of them returned to the truck, was nothing close to what she'd prepared for mentally.

---===---

Dirt crunched beneath her shoes as Isabelle strode along the shoulder of the road. Charlene and Jon trailed behind her in silence, but whether it was due to the solemnity of the occasion, or simple frustration at her forestalling further discussion of this prince, she couldn't tell.

It seemed like all three of them had different opinions on this new revalation. Jon was enthusiastic beyond all reason, while Charlene was tempered be sensible suspicion. For her part, Isabelle found herself immediately distrustful of this "Prince" and his promise of help.

Still, all three had agreed on one thing; there was something that needed seeing to first ...

She'd weighed down the plastic bag with a few rocks, enough to keep it from floating downstream. While upmarket homes lined the riverside upstream, the area they'd found looked relatively ill used, the boatshed and jetty abandoned.

The crunching of dirt was replaced by the sound of wood as she reached the edge of the wharf. She paused, glancing first at the dark green object in her hands, and then at the view of the Clackamas river in front of her.

Dark green trees, the blue of the water, the rusted brown of the shore ... it was a good a place as any to be laid to rest. Turning, she looked at her friends.

"Anyone have anything they want to say?"

[the_druid_droid]

Jon scuffed a foot awkwardly as they stood by the river. He didn’t really know what to say, but it seemed wrong to just let the moment pass. “I...I guess we can hope that whoever it is, they’re in a better place now...” And that we don’t join them there too quickly, Jon added mentally.

The truth was that they needed their luck to turn around, and fast, if they didn’t want to end up homeless or worse. The bones were a reminder of that, and managed to dampen his mood, which had been on the upswing until then. As he reconsidered their situation, there by the quietly rushing water, it was clear that the Prince needed to be everything they were expecting and more, or they were going to be in serious trouble.

[Thanqol]

This would be a good moment to remember that this group had not eaten in forty eight hours or more, and had slept for less than four the previous night. There'd been miles of walking and a brief, violent fight. Exhaustion and hunger were equal blinds at this point, along with a low, painful ache that ran to the bone. The point where fatigue became desperation was painfully close.

[Deadly]

Charlene had been silent since Jon's explanation of his twin's existence. The hunger and exhaustion gnawed at her like a dog on an old bone as they drove and all through the improvised burial. But something else was gnawing and competing for what little energy she had left to think. A fetch? If the Fae could replace Jon they could replace anyone. How common was this? She watched the people on the streets as they drove past on their way out of town. Perhaps they were all fetches, all false faces and didn't even know it. She looked down at her hands. Perhaps she too was a fetch. And up at Jon and Isabelle. In her tired and starved mind it made sense. How could she trust anyone, how could she even trust herself? Had she even escaped at all or was all this just an elaborate construction meant to... to what? What possible purpose could this all have?

She watched the burial of the bones as through the fog of a dream. She had only ever been to one burial, as far as she remembered, when her grandmother had passed away years ago. It had been a traditional one, with all the traditional words and customs that she had painstakingly had to learn. And she'd learned them well. But now those words and customs seemed distant, they had certainly not been on her mind for the past many years.

She raised her right hand, the first words failing to materialize in her mind... ashamed she moved on, folded her arms over her chest and spoke what she did remember. "O God, forgive them and have mercy on them, keep them safe and sound and forgive them, honor their rest and ease their entrance; wash them with water and snow and hail, and cleanse them of sin as a white garment is cleansed of dirt." There was much more, she knew, but for the life of her she couldn't remember now.

She knelt down and picked up a handful of dirt, letting it trickle out between her fingers into the river. She repeated the process three times while reciting the words she faintly remembered. "We created you from it, and return you into it, and from it We will raise you a second time." Raise you from it a second time, she thought quietly. From dirt... and debris and twigs. What unholy things were these fetches? Unholy imitations of the sacred life, made by... demons? Perhaps that was what she was. Perhaps she would find no forgiveness, but hopefully these poor people would find it wherever the river lead.

"Peace and blessings of God be unto you," she finished, her stomach feeling like a gnawing black hole, her head like a stone. "I'm so hungry..." she said without really knowing it.

[BlasTech]

Isabelle snorted softly at Jon's "speech", and bowed her head reverently at Charlene's. When they were done, she added her own prayer that was really more emotion than words.

Taking a deep breath, she drew her arm back and hurled the bag out into the river. That simple act, coupled with her hunger and lack of sleep, caused her to stagger in the wake of her throw as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She grit her teeth and straightened, refusing to let he body distract her from the moment. She'd never know the person whose remains she'd committed to nature, but a part of her drew strength from the simple fact that she, as a person, could do this one thing for them. This one act of kindness at the end of a life cut short.

Once the bag had disappeared into the clouded waters of the river, she turned to her companions.

"Sorry." She began. "I guess now we can decide on where to go? I know you want to see this 'prince' Jon, but I just have this feeling that this guy may not be all he's made out to be."

"We can try to find a shelter, or a soup kitchen. Make our own way?" She suggested, as her traitorous stomach gave a gurgle of discontent. "It might take longer, but at least that way we'd be free." She added, unsure of how that last point had even made sense.

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Hmm, would dragging us all out for a burial service whilst starving count as an act of charity for Isablle?

[Thanqol]

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Hmm, would dragging us all out for a burial service whilst starving count as an act of charity for Isablle?

[Why yes! Have a full Willpower regain]

[Deadly]

"I wouldn't mind getting something to eat before we decide on too much," Charlene said. "I can't think straight as it is. If this prince can help us it'd be good to know, but I'm not sure how much we can face like this."

[the_druid_droid]

Now that the others had brought it up, Jon could feel his own hunger gnawing at him. It had faded during the adrenaline rush of his fight, but he suddenly realized that everything felt as though it were stretched thin, and his own too-bright happiness was only a hair’s breadth from despair and collapse - symptomatic of his unbalanced and fatigued state.

“Yeah, I think we could all use something to eat. If we look at the map I might be able to remember where a couple of soup kitchens are; some people back at school used to work there on off days...” He suddenly wondered if anyone he knew would be working, and his ache to see a familiar face mingled with nervous uncertainty as to what day it actually was. Coming back to the real world felt oddly similar to the discovery that you’d reached the top of a staircase only after fumbling for one extra step.

[BlasTech]

"Food first." Isabelle agreed "And then, then we'll see."

Together, the three of them headed back to the truck, and back into town.

[Thanqol]

The cackling stood out to them even before they entered the doors of the soup kitchen. A deep, diseased cackling born of cancerous lungs and dementia.

It was a squat, grey building with about thirty people sitting at tables silently eating. The staff stood behind the benches quietly. Everyone was focused intently on what they were doing, trying their best to ignore the source of the cackling. The one doing the laughing was stalking up and down the rows, glass eyes glinting black in the poor light.

His limbs were made of carved wood, painted red, bringing to mind the painted wooden toy soldiers of yesteryear. Over this, he wore a ragged leather jacket and brown-grey clothes. His beard was long and white, and his scalp was balding. His blank, black, glass eyes seemed to spin inside his head. His head seemed to split in half when his mouth opened, revealing rows of diseased teeth.

He came to a stop behind a bulky black man who was staring into his soup and clutching his spoon so hard his knuckles turned white. "You're going to die, Larry," rasped the toy man, "You're going to die before the week is out. Oh, I see it, oh yes I do. You're going to go mad. You're going to lie down on the train tacks, Larry. You're going to start screaming when the train doesn't come on time, Larry boy. You're going to keep screaming, Larry, Larry, until they hose you off the tracks. Ha! Ha!"

When he moved away, that six foot, muscle-bound street brawler was sobbing into his soup.

The fear he was radiating was sublime.

The Changelings were craving physical sustenance, but the sheer amount of Fear-aspected glamour flooding this place was dizzying. All they had to do was breathe it in and the rush would be transcendent.

"Aha!" The head swivelled around on the neck as the toy soldier saw the newcomers, "Ahaha! New guests! Don't worry!" The soldier spread his arms and grinned, "Plenty for everyone here."

[the_druid_droid]

Jon had started to get nervous as soon as he’d heard the laughter, but actually stepping inside the soup kitchen was disorienting beyond anything he’d anticipated. Weak from hunger and exertion, the potent waves of fear broke over Jon like a tide, and he staggered drunkenly, trying to take in the most exquisite terror he’d ever felt: a nightmare rush of adrenaline that made the hairs on his neck prick until he nearly gasped.

What’s going on here?! The thought bounced around in his head, trying to find an outlet as Jon glanced back and forth between his friends and the unfamiliar Changeling, hoping that someone would suggest a course of action he could latch on to before his body gave out. Unsteadily, he reached out a hand, trying to find something solid to lean on while he caught his breath.

[BlasTech]

His hand found Isabelle's.

She could feel the power of the emotions as they approached the kitchen, but still found herself staggering slightly under the intensity of it all. But where she'd been swept into the past by despair, or immersed in the euphoria of the club, here she felt herself walking the razor's edge.

She had no idea if other Changelings could "taste" the difference in emotions, but the terror was like ... like the sound of a note, if such a thing could be said to be a taste. High pitched and drawn out at just the edge of hearing, a pressure on the mind that was only barely restrained.

She breathed it in, and out.

Despite the hunger, she felt her mind sharpen under it's influence, partially invigorated if not entirely refreshed, it was enough for her to work with.

Planting her feet, she straightened, catching Jon as he stumbled and providing support. She could be strong enough for them, she could face this, she had to, for the group. She forced herself to meet the gaze of this creature and hoped her voice didn't betray her unease or disgust at what she was seeing.

"We would like some food, please." She said. In truth, she also wanted an accounting for this ... bullying ... but that could wait until the needs of their bodies were met.

[Thanqol]

[You can make Harvest rolls, Empathy+Composure or Presence+Intimidation depending on your approach]

The toy soldier man waved brightly and the volunteers behind the counter hurriedly filled three bowls of soup and pushed them out for the Changelings to eat.

"Help yourselves!" said the Changeling, "Fresh out of the Hedge, eh? Well don't worry. It's better here. No one's pulling our strings -" his body contorted grotesquely, like a puppet artlessly handled, "- except us."

[Deadly]

[Are there any bonuses or penalties on a Composure check here? Because Charlene's nerves are going to be pretty frayed]

[Thanqol]

[Are there any bonuses or penalties on a Composure check here? Because Charlene's nerves are going to be pretty frayed]

[For the Harvest roll? Generally no. A harvest roll is a fairly abstract thing as-is, using any combination of abilities that seem to make sense. You could make just as easy a case that drinking other people's fear is relaxing and puts yours in context.

If you just want to say the strain is too much and she loses it at this point you can do that without a roll. If the guy does start using fear-based powers/Intimidate on you guys there would be a penalty on your defense due to your general fatigue]

[Deadly]

[Okey Dokey Lokey!]

Charlene backed away as fear gripped her. Her first instinct was to run. It was only through restraint or perhaps something keeping her that she was able to keep herself from acting upon that instinct immediately. She stood near the doorway, looking and feeling like a cornered animal in a den of wolves. If she had had fur - in fact to her friends and those others who could discern such things, she suddenly did - it would stand on end, making her look somewhat bigger than she was. Her teeth, distinctly sharper than usual, lightly bared, she looked somewhat like a fox trying to face down a bear.

[BlasTech]

"Thank you. Would it be okay to eat them somewhere else? This place is rather ... distracting." She said, looking over her shoulder at Charlene with concern and no small amount of shock at her changing appearance.

"It's okay" She said, attempting to soothe the other but not really knowing what to say. "It'll be okay".