[Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

[Anarion]

[It's not night yet.
The sun's rays over the bay are just barely not set.
I'll wait to make a final rule
And see if this info affects your pool.]

[SiuiS]

Wending through the throng to the foot of the stage, Charlotte finds no one. Turning, spinning in slow panic while face gyre about her like masks on crystal spheres, close but appallingly distant. The colors around her are a blur of emotions through a veil of quiet tears.

Stupid. Stupid.

Five minutes. It had been five minutes between Kalina being taken away and Charlotte trying to find her, and it felt like moments but it wasn't and now the moment was lost. And so was she; never waiting, ever moving, unfamiliar, Charlotte winds into the crowd with nary a sob, through it like the moon on a river. Even the whickerman's face would be a comfort in all this riotous fog, this silent noise, pouring through her head like a channel.

[Raz_Fox]

[Heck yeah I'm using Companion's Boon.]

[Anarion]

[Heck yeah I'm using Companion's Boon.]

[That's plenty then, I shall continue]

The speaker had a very nice watch on. In fact, Stephanie realizes after she gets it that it's a Rolex. She even knows about a pawn shop now, where it could certainly fetch an excellent price.

More to the point, she easily cuts the jacket pocket and palms the papers while Ms. Rogers was looking at Marchande. When she fully opens her jacket and glances down, she finds that there are no papers anywhere and looks alarmed, then back to Marchande. "Oh, thank you very much young lady. I always appreciate the efforts of a good samaritan. I think if everyone went out of their way to help others like you, a lot of the problems in our society would be solved."

To Marchande's sensitive perceptions, she notices that Ms. Rogers, although she appears to be looking at Marchande while she speaks, is really putting her attention slightly over Marchande's shoulders to the reporters in that general direction.

[Thanqol]

Slice with the knife. Slide her hand in to grab the notes. By luck or whatever else, the Speaker's hand had just started to enter her pocket at that exact moment.

What if, Stephanie's brain thought, I do a handshake snatch while picking her pocket?

Tiny shadow-hooks extended from her fingertips, sliding gently in the gap between watch and wrist, flexing outwards and holding it a milimeter above the surface of the skin. As the Speaker naturally pulled her hand back it slid right out of the watch. Both notes and watch were in Stephanie's pocket a second later.

Stephanie started to wander away casually, keeping within range of Marchy in case of emergency but otherwise content with her victory. Aw yeah, that had been smooth.

[Raz_Fox]

"Quite happy to help, ma'am." Marchande hands that woman - as fake as any politician - the papers with a sweet smile. "No need to thank me - just do your best tonight!"

With that done, Marchande nods, smiles, and tries to disentangle herself from the politician's retinue with as little fanfare as possible.

[Anarion]

"Such a polite young woman as well." Before Marchande can fully disentangle herself, Ms. Rogers puts her arm around Marchande's shoulders. "You know, I think this is a great story for the evening. How would you like to accompany me on stage, for tonight's presentation?" Ms. Rogers asks in a tone that doesn't seem to contemplate the possibility of Marchande saying no.

[Raz_Fox]

This is a very bad situation, Marchande realizes before the Speaker has even finished forming her thought; it is the kind of thought that completes itself in one's head while the speaker is still going through the preliminaries. But it's all right, she has a press pass. She'll flash it, apologize, and say that she's expected to be- oh, right, she doesn't have one.

Bugger.

"Thank you, ma'am," Marchande says as smoothly as possible, glancing over at the reporters, "But I couldn't possibly. This is your big evening, after all, not mine - and besides," she says, trying to stay in-character, "My friends would probably start panicking if I up and vanished; I said I was just going to try and get a good look at you and I'd probably be back with them already if I hadn't seen those notes drop. I mean, if you insist, it'd be an honor, but I need to let them know, you know?"

[Anarion]

"Oh, don't worry. They'll see you up on stage and understand. And you'll have a minute to text them if you'd like as well. They have to introduce me and staffers check their phones on stage all the time. Don't be bashful, I insist."

[Raz_Fox]

"Very well, Mrs. Rodgers," Marchande says, looking as if she's won over and eager, inwardly trying to figure out a way out of this mess. Maybe, when the notes turn out to be wrong, she can imply that some political opponent dropped them, but she's still implicated in the switch. Maybe she can fake horror? Or maybe she could... make herself lucky? Could she even do that?

The press of the crowd makes it hard to think, for one used to not having to think, for a girl used to large mansions and lazy days and no peasants all about.

Phone. Phone. Did she have the number for her employers? Did she have... did Stephanie even have a phone? And what was texting, anyway?

[Anarion]

[You've had phones explained already when Kalina asked about them. Don't think you have one though.]

"That's Rogers, no D" the speaker corrects Marchande. She keeps her arm firmly around Marchande's shoulders as they walk up to the stage. Marchande has a moment to give a quick glance to Charlotte and the wicker man as they march past, then Ms. Rogers takes a seat right behind the podium and puts Marchande right next to her.

"Oh, you know, we didn't introduce ourselves properly" she says while the newsmen in the crowd set up. She holds out a hand to Marchande. "My name is Kalina Rogers, I'm the speaker of the state house of representatives, from district 18 right near here. What's yours?"

[Thanqol]

While this was going on, Stephanie sidled over to the two senior Changelings and showed them the palm cards. "Natch. What are we getting paid for this, by the way?"

[Anarion]

[Karl isn't back yet, it's just wicker guy right now.]

The wicker man arches a slight fold of cloth around his forehead that is reminiscent of raising an eyebrow.

"That depends what you'd like. Our general 'payment' is gratitude and an opportunity to advance in the freehold based on your success. Of course, if you need money, several members of the courts can assist, and do tend to be more readily helpful to our most contributing members."

[Thanqol]

"Hm. Marchy should probably do the talking on that," Stephanie said. "Where is she anyway?"

[Anarion]

The wicker man simply points over to the main part of the stage, where Marchande is being offered a hand by Ms. Rogers.

[Thanqol]

It never occurred to Stephanie that Marchy might be in trouble. There were no cops, everyone was talking, and Marchy was like the talkster. She was probably doing exactly what she wanted to be doing.

"Guess I'll wait then," she said.

[Anarion]

"Feel free to have a seat" the wicker man says, gesturing to one of the chairs near him. He then returns to his stoic silence.

[Thanqol]

"Feel free to have a seat" the wicker man says, gesturing to one of the chairs near him. He then returns to his stoic silence.

"'kay," Stephanie says, sitting. Then immediately, "What's it like to be made out of wood?"

[Anarion]

"I can't say it feels especially strange. More of me is wire and cloth than wood, but the whole still feels to me like my own body and it moves and acts as I desire.

How do you feel being made out of shadow?"

[Thanqol]

"Pretty awesome actually. It's like my body is made of my thoughts, I guess?" Stephanie said. She wasn't sure how to express it, and looked thoughtful. "Like visualising something is enough to make it happen."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte stops her silent crying, wiping away a stray tear. Her breath catches lightly, like a bird in her chest catching it's wing on the brambles.

"Shadows are nice. I'm just plain skin." she intones, with the morose look of the tired, the drunk, or the very, very high. "Oh, wait." blanching silver, and then building a slow deep amber on her cheeks, she realizes that probably means she came out ahead of the curve.

[Raz_Fox]

Spoiler

Show

[You've had phones explained already when Kalina asked about them. Don't think you have one though.]

"That's Rogers, no D" the speaker corrects Marchande. She keeps her arm firmly around Marchande's shoulders as they walk up to the stage. Marchande has a moment to give a quick glance to Charlotte and the wicker man as they march past, then Ms. Rogers takes a seat right behind the podium and puts Marchande right next to her.

"Oh, you know, we didn't introduce ourselves properly" she says while the newsmen in the crowd set up. She holds out a hand to Marchande. "My name is Kalina Rogers, I'm the speaker of the state house of representatives, from district 18 right near here. What's yours?"

[Well, to be fair, texting wasn't mentioned, but it probably existed already and I'm an idiot. Continuity? What's that? Moving right along.]

"Did it sound like I said Rodgers? Sorry, bit of an accent, Miss. Rodgers, Rogers - same, see?" Marchande shakes the outstretched hand, trying not to sweat, hoping she wouldn't comment on how hairy it was. "My name's March, and I must say, it's an honor to be up here with you."

And then- aha, inspiration! "Are you going to use the story at the beginning of your speech, ma'am? If not, I'll just grab a bit of water- my throat's parched." And if this doesn't work, well, anything further would be suspicious, as awful as the thought is. She needs enough plausibility to act horrified when Rogers realizes the notes have been changed.

[Anarion]

"March, very nice to meet you." She shakes Marchande's hand vigorously. "Now you just relax." She gestures to a young staffer, probably still in undergrad, and instructs him to fetch Marchande a glass of water.

"Now, March, you'll enjoy this. I remember when the bridge had its 50th anniversary, and you'll never see fireworks like these again for the next 25 years. It's going to be a show to remember."

Meanwhile, the wicker man keeps stoically silent while Charlotte speaks and then turns to the stage. An older, balded black man in a navy blue suit has taken the microphone, and the crowd seems to have quieted down.

Marchande, you recognize the guy as a former mayor of the city from some years prior. Now he doesn't really have a job at all, he just sort of goes around living it up, although there are a fair number of rumors that his money came from making shady insider deals while he was the man in charge.

He begins "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct pleasure to welcome you here to Crissy Field, for the 75th anniversary of one of the greatest feats of architecture ever accomplished by mankind."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte shifts a little, adjusting her skirts. She was not yet recovered, not really. Inside, he felt hollow, but watered out like a cave, with strange, jagged protruberences all sticking into the center of her empty heart and gut. But it was still preferable to that raw, aching despair that had overcome her before.

"Where do you suppose Marchande or herself to? Was she not supposed to have returned by now?" she asks, leaning forward and turning, do Stephanie can hear her.

[Thanqol]

"Dunno. I think the plan was to scream if anything went wrong? I haven't heard any screaming." Stephanie said, shrugging.

[Anarion]

[I was kinda waiting on a further reaction from Marchande, but we'll continue.]

The man drones on for a few moments, talking about the history of the bridge, the construction process from 1933 to 1937, honoring all the construction workers who died and poured their souls into the work and so forth.

He then says to the audience "It is now my distinct pleasure to introduce tonight's keynote, Speaker of the State House of Representatives, and, if I may say, one of California's fastest rising stars, Ms. Kalina Rogers."

He turns to Ms. Rogers, who takes her papers, stands up, shakes his hand warmly, and then gestures to Marchande to follow her as she walks up to the podium.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte fidgets a bit more. Coming back to reality, down from her buzz, and away from that blue core of painful loss, she is lost. They were sitting... In the seats. Off to the side? And waiting for... Something?

"Pardon me, sir. Do we have someone to ask those questions? What happens next?"

[Anarion]

"The speaker seems to be paused in making her speech. It looks like she's waiting on your friend there. Whenever that gets moving, she will give her speech and then take questions. We are seated in the side of the press area, and when Karl gets back, he will take a position closer up. If you want to join him in asking questions, I'll write one for you and you can move up to join Karl when he gets back."

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande gulps inwardly, and then gets up, tugging self-consciously at the lapels of her suit. She smiles, and it's as false as three-o-clock tea with the vicar. She waves out at the crowd, looking like she's having the time of her life, trying to figure out whether she could vault over security from the stage if she needed to bolt.

[Anarion]

trying to figure out whether she could vault over security from the stage if she needed to bolt.

[The answer to this question is yes, with a good athletics roll. How far you'd get is another matter, but my personal evaluation of this course of action is: not entirely unreasonable.]


The speaker again puts her arm around Marchande, this time with a somewhat predatory grin, at least to Marchande's eyes.

"Well everyone, I had a long speech prepared, in which I was going to talk to you about our history, the growth of the city, and my own positions on property law." She briefly glances at her notes, then casually slides them back into her briefcase. "However, inspiration struck me as I was walking towards the stage, in the form of this wonderful young lady here, by the name of March."

She pauses for about 3 seconds.
[i.e. potential chance to take an action here, by anyone, if desired]