[Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

[Anarion]

"Nap time's over, tubby. It's time to chat."

The man lets out a groan. Even in the minimal starlight, Rose can see he's glaring daggers at her. Well, before he lets out another groan as her weight presses down on his leg and he tries to turn onto his broken arm.

He spits a little blood, and, is that a bit of tooth? At any rate, he spits and looks up at Rose, waiting for her to ask something.

Oh, wonderful. He knows about the faeries. Wonderful.

"I'm not," Marchande says, guardedly. Then, right on its heels, "Fairies are bad. I'm a person just like you, just... a little touched. The wine? Nearly blew my mind. But all I want is to sell wine, have a proper life, get over being touched. Help out people like me." She leans back in her chair, running one hand over her head. "Your boss fill you in?"

Now he takes on a guarded look all his own. "Fairies are bad, huh? That's what you said, but if you'd been 'touched' like me, you wouldn't think that. You know though, I can tell you know. Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

[PhoeKun]

If the man thinks he has any idea what it means to glare daggers at someone, it is nothing compared to the look Rose is giving back to him. Snakes don't have this much venom.

"All right then, Mr. Firestarter. I would like to know what kind of fires you were trying to fuel by carrying a little girl off into the night. Where were you trying to take her, and for what purpose?"

She shifts her weight a bit atop of him, grinding her heel down into his leg.

"Fair warning: every time you give an answer I'm not satisfied with, I'm going to break something."

[A Presence+Intimidation roll scored 2 successes, as a preemptive measure]

[Raz_Fox]

Now he takes on a guarded look all his own. "Fairies are bad, huh? That's what you said, but if you'd been 'touched' like me, you wouldn't think that. You know though, I can tell you know. Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

"I just did," Marchande replies, unamused. "Fairies are bad business, and the only people you can trust are people. At a guess, though, I'd say you were ensorcelled by one of the... let's call them the lucky ones. The people who had something of themselves left after getting screwed over, hard. Take it from me: getting to taste the wine like that? Not worth hell."

She drums her fingers on the table, agitated. Maybe she's already told him too much. (But if she keeps one person from hell, she's a saint- that's how it works, right? If you do not tell your brother of his sin, you shall be accountable for his death?) "Anyone else at Faerie Fire know about this? How'd you get 'touched', anyway?"

[Anarion]

"All right then, Mr. Firestarter. I would like to know what kind of fires you were trying to fuel by carrying a little girl off into the night. Where were you trying to take her, and for what purpose?"

She shifts her weight a bit atop of him, grinding her heel down into his leg.

"Fair warning: every time you give an answer I'm not satisfied with, I'm going to break something."

[A Presence+Intimidation roll scored 2 successes, as a preemptive measure]

"I don't know, I don't know!" He groans as Rose shifts her weight. "I don't see him directly, I'm just a goon, a hired thug. They just talk all the time about how we're gonna start a fire under the establishment, go back to the way things used to be when times were better. And they said they need a few people, sacrifices of some kind. It's a big organization. Nobody sees Paladin directly. My boss doesn't even know who he actually is, we just see his speeches and YouTube videos!" He cringes and winces as he's speaking, trying to avoid Rose's heel digging into his flesh.

"I just did," Marchande replies, unamused. "Fairies are bad business, and the only people you can trust are people. At a guess, though, I'd say you were ensorcelled by one of the... let's call them the lucky ones. The people who had something of themselves left after getting screwed over, hard. Take it from me: getting to taste the wine like that? Not worth hell."

She drums her fingers on the table, agitated. Maybe she's already told him too much. (But if she keeps one person from hell, she's a saint- that's how it works, right? If you do not tell your brother of his sin, you shall be accountable for his death?) "Anyone else at Faerie Fire know about this? How'd you get 'touched', anyway?"

"Ensorcelled?" He marvels at that word. Turning it over in his head like a child staring at a shiny new toy for a few moments. "Yeah, he never called it that, but that's gotta be what it was. I don't know who knows. He told me never to talk about it, that was one of the rules. The other one was that I had to pick up every penny I saw on the ground and take it to a particular donation box and drop it in. But in exchange, I got to see what he actually looked like and our business had incredible luck. Somebody else must have known too, or maybe there was another one because that must be how they get the wine so sweet."

His mind kind of snaps back and he looks at Marchande, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Can you do the same thing? I thought that I was doing everything right this morning, but then you just ignored me. I want to see it again, I want that luck back."

[PhoeKun]

"But you have a boss, someone you do see," Rose sneers, "And you definitely had a place you were supposed to bring this girl. Was this your first job? What else have they asked you to do?"

She shifts her weight again, taking some of the pressure off of the man. But she does not move her foot; a promise of new pain (and worse) if he doesn't stay cooperative.

She files a mental note to go back to Namine or one of the others to find out what in the hell a 'YouTube' is. Why doesn't anything in this world make sense?

[Anarion]

*In the Dream*

Charlotte stops to examine the tracks. She puts her whole focus on them, and as she looks, she can almost see it. The hart came first. It was speeding along, its hooves barely touching the snow. It's tracks are old, it's pace swift, faster than a speeding car. The dream doesn't register "an hour" as such, but that is closest to the time of the Hart's passing.

The heavy tracks came next. A larger beast, no wolf these tracks. The marks suggest that the creature stopped to sniff. It was following the Hart's trail, close and closer, perhaps 15 minutes behind.

The wolf tracks are last. They crisscross. The wolves came from different directions, then they met, then they traveled forward together. They are behind the beast, another 15 minutes perhaps. The whole assembly headed off in the same direction after wandering around here. The tracks seem to mark a border, the start of a chase. Or a chase and another chase.

There being nothing left to find here, Charlotte conjures a winged horse to carry her swiftly on her way. The Pegasi materializes after a few seconds, appearing as though descending from the clouds. It lands next to Charlotte and snorts impatiently, waiting for her to mount. It's a pure white horse, though Charlotte would swear that there's a blue tint out of the corner of her eye.

"But you have a boss, someone you do see," Rose sneers, "And you definitely had a place you were supposed to bring this girl. Was this your first job? What else have they asked you to do?"

"My boss is Joey Rodriguez. I dunno if that's his real name, but that's what he told me to call him. Grk. He's not meeting me tonight. I'm supposed to take the kid, tie her up and leave her in a warehouse about a half mile from here. They told us to range pretty far so there wouldn't be a pattern. Argh" He coughs for a minute, spitting more blood and phlegm. "She's the third one I've taken. The pay is crazy good. $500 per kid."

His explanation is interrupted by the sound of quiet sobbing behind Rose. Anna isn't running or moving, but she's crying to herself, trying to wipe her eyes again to no avail. It's hard to tell what got to her. Maybe it was the casual statement of a kid only being worth $500? Maybe it was being told that there were two others? Maybe she just doesn't like watching this kind of pain?

[PhoeKun]

Rose glowers down at the man and opens her mouth to ask another question, but stiffens visibly at the sound of Anna crying. It's too much to ask for, after all. She sighs.

"You got off lucky tonight. But I suggest you take this opportunity to get out of this organization while you can. I am going to find your Paladin and crush him. And if I so much as hear a rumor that you're still doing this kind of work..."

Kalina reaches back into her pocket and pulls out the man's gun. She tosses it into the air, and crushes it between her fists as it falls back down. As she pulls her hands apart, several scraps of twisted metal fall with a dull 'clunk' to the ground.

Without another word, she turns and takes Anna by the hand, leading her back out of the alley and down to a cleaner, more proper street. There, she hugs the child tight.

"I am sorry. I am... so sorry for putting you through that..."

[Raz_Fox]

"Ensorcelled?" He marvels at that word. Turning it over in his head like a child staring at a shiny new toy for a few moments. "Yeah, he never called it that, but that's gotta be what it was. I don't know who knows. He told me never to talk about it, that was one of the rules. The other one was that I had to pick up every penny I saw on the ground and take it to a particular donation box and drop it in. But in exchange, I got to see what he actually looked like and our business had incredible luck. Somebody else must have known too, or maybe there was another one because that must be how they get the wine so sweet."

His mind kind of snaps back and he looks at Marchande, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Can you do the same thing? I thought that I was doing everything right this morning, but then you just ignored me. I want to see it again, I want that luck back."

Marchande gives him the flattest look. The most unimpressed look in the history of unimpressed looks. "Why, yes, Jason. I happen to be a vending machine that dispenses luck when you're nice. I'll be your fairy godmother for this story, complete with slippers for the ball. And I won't ask any inconvenient questions about why you aren't lucky Jason anymore, or what happened to the other guy."

Acrid, sharp. Her bark's as bad as her bite, now. Ha. "So, no. I might bring some fortune to the business, but you know how I'll do that? By being me. By getting you contracts and getting your wine on the front page of wine magazines. And that's a life worth living. If - if, mind you - I end up being able and willing to pull down major mojo from the bad place, I'll do it for the business."

Awkward silence. A thought strikes her, a little late, a redirection that she hadn't thought of because she had been too busy being clever. "But I know what you can do, Jason. You can talk to the company founder about this stuff. He'll... he'll understand. Trust me on this, if you explain the ensorcellment, the streak of luck, and the reasons for its breaking, that'll put everyone in a position of strength for business. I'll even volunteer any, er, talents I may possess."

[SiuiS]

An "hour" behind.

Charlotte thinks, and strokes through the rough woolen stands of the Pegasus' mane. Chases. Chases and dreams.

Chases take forever. They either meet end or you move slowly. The chase is the focus. An hour. Perhaps this scene is near done?

But the third party. bigger paws. That was what she needed to know to solve this, this particular part of things. She bet Stephanie knew. Stephanie always knew these strange things. Charlotte smiles fondly while adjusting some of te silken feathers she had ruffled on the wing. Shifting her dream-garment to accommodate straddling the beautiful creature, she leans forward while weaving her fingers into its mane.

"Ahead. We are behind; fly." she whispers between it's ears.

Spoiler

Show

What shape are the third set of paw prints? And can I somehow dream-track Stephanie?

[Anarion]

"I am sorry. I am... so sorry for putting you through that..."

The man looks suitably intimidated, but considering he's already lying on the floor sobbing out his life story while hog-tied by his own jacket, there's really not much left of his dignity in the first place.

Anna, on the other hand, has stopped crying. She's looking at the gun, the clunk sound of the metal dropping attracted her attention. Her mouth is hanging open and her eyes are as wide as saucers, reflecting the pale starlight as she looks at Rose. "How did you do that?" she asks in a hushed tone.

Marchande gives him the flattest look. The most unimpressed look in the history of unimpressed looks. "Why, yes, Jason. I happen to be a vending machine that dispenses luck when you're nice. I'll be your fairy godmother for this story, complete with slippers for the ball. And I won't ask any inconvenient questions about why you aren't lucky Jason anymore, or what happened to the other guy."

Acrid, sharp. Her bark's as bad as her bite, now. Ha. "So, no. I might bring some fortune to the business, but you know how I'll do that? By being me. By getting you contracts and getting your wine on the front page of wine magazines. And that's a life worth living. If - if, mind you - I end up being able and willing to pull down major mojo from the bad place, I'll do it for the business."

Awkward silence. A thought strikes her, a little late, a redirection that she hadn't thought of because she had been too busy being clever. "But I know what you can do, Jason. You can talk to the company founder about this stuff. He'll... he'll understand. Trust me on this, if you explain the ensorcellment, the streak of luck, and the reasons for its breaking, that'll put everyone in a position of strength for business. I'll even volunteer any, er, talents I may possess."

Jason looks like Marchande actually did punch him in the face. "What did I do wrong? I don't understand. The last guy made it so easy. I did what I was told and he sold the wine. He told me to always be polite to new sales employees, and I thought I did everything perfectly. Is it that you're not as powerful as he was? Is that it?"

Spoiler

Show

What shape are the third set of paw prints? And can I somehow dream-track Stephanie?

The paw prints are in the unnatural combination of a humanoid hand and a buffalo print.

You can track dream Stephanie with an analyze dream roll at no penalty. It will default to showing where she is, since that's the center of the action.

[PhoeKun]

Anna, on the other hand, has stopped crying. She's looking at the gun, the clunk sound of the metal dropping attracted her attention. Her mouth is hanging open and her eyes are as wide as saucers, reflecting the pale starlight as she looks at Rose. "How did you do that?" she asks in a hushed tone.

"Hm?" Rose flashes a bemused smile at Anna, grateful to have distracted her from the ugly proceedings of a moment's past.

"Well, it would have been pretty crazy of me to try to save you with just my bare hands if I wasn't at least this strong, right? It's like that. I'm... special. I'm strong enough to protect you."

She gently nudges the girl forward.

"Come along. You've had a rough night, and we've still got to get you back home to your parents..."

[SiuiS]

Spoiler

Show

Okay. I honestly cannot recall which animal Carlotte noticed versus all the jokes we have been making. So I'll unfortunately leave wether she places Minos as the third party up to a die roll. Suggested pool?

... And I left my dice at home. So not only am I stuck with the forum roller, but the physical ones will probably be pissed at me >_< so no rolling before a post!


Analyze the dream: Stephanie is Central - (2d10)[7][3](10)

Charlotte leans over the sides of her mount, looking down at the mottled waterfall of blak and green blurring past, watchful for signs of the hunt she hunts. Dimly, she tries to find Stephanie but it just doesn't come to her, and she is shaken out of the effort by a pained whinny.

Eyes flash open, mouth parts, head looks up. Knuckles, delicate ivory press hard and white beneath a silken screen the color of new wheat. She had grabbed the poor thing's mane tighter and tighter while focusing, and in her remonstrations the winged horse had almost bucked her off.

Charlotte frowns. She wouldn't risk pulling her new friend's hair again. Not yet. But then, she had to did Stephanie... The old fashioned way, she supposes.

[Raz_Fox]

Jason looks like Marchande actually did punch him in the face. "What did I do wrong? I don't understand. The last guy made it so easy. I did what I was told and he sold the wine. He told me to always be polite to new sales employees, and I thought I did everything perfectly. Is it that you're not as powerful as he was? Is that it?"

"Oh, by Jove, could you get any thicker?" Marchande throws one hand up in frustration, accent slipping for a moment. "If you're being nice just to get something, you're not being nice at all, you're just a decent actor. And a single-track mind is not very reassuring, especially when it doesn't keep up. Honestly!"

Marchande stands up. "You want it back? Prove you're responsible enough to handle it. Talking to the founder about this whole thing would probably be a good start."

[Anarion]

She gently nudges the girl forward.

"Come along. You've had a rough night, and we've still got to get you back home to your parents..."

Anna nods quietly and goes forward ahead of Rose, sparing a quick glance back at the man that's still tied up.

When they get back onto the larger street, she says "I'm...not sure where my house is. The street is Shortwell and 22nd, but I don't know where we are now."

Kalina is aware that she has wandered into the mission district somewhere, but is probably a fair bit north of that address. It's a good 20 minutes of walking, and its about perpendicular to where the man indicated the warehouse was."

Spoiler

Show

Okay. I honestly cannot recall which animal Carlotte noticed versus all the jokes we have been making. So I'll unfortunately leave wether she places Minos as the third party up to a die roll. Suggested pool?

... And I left my dice at home. So not only am I stuck with the forum roller, but the physical ones will probably be pissed at me >_< so no rolling before a post!


[roll0]

[No, she knows it's probably Donkey Kong's tracks. I was trying to describe them in a way that it was clear they're his, but also not quite his, since the creature that Stephanie is actually seeing is smaller and more gangly.

At any rate, failing to find Stephanie in a timely manner allows us to progress the scene. Charlotte will be arriving on a flying pegasus at the speed of plot and in the meantime Stephanie can continue her actions.]

Marchande stands up. "You want it back? Prove you're responsible enough to handle it. Talking to the founder about this whole thing would probably be a good start."

"I, alright. Maybe he already knows about it. Did you want to know about your predecessor?"

He's talking like everything is okay, but Marchande can see some seething resentment under the surface. She's going to make an enemy if she's not careful with this.

[Raz_Fox]

"I, alright. Maybe he already knows about it. Did you want to know about your predecessor?"

He's talking like everything is okay, but Marchande can see some seething resentment under the surface. She's going to make an enemy if she's not careful with this.

Marchande looks him up and looks him down. Snorts dismissively. Sits down, nails grinding on wood. "I would like to hear about the previous sales representative. To be honest, I don't know anything about the circumstances surrounding his departure."

Maybe she's a hypocrite. But she's coming to dislike Jason, his obsessive need to get back his precious... luck. Something about him says strongly: if this is his reaction to nearly getting it back, he doesn't deserve to get it back. If it were honest, casual relief- if it were interest in how she could leverage ensorcellment for the greater advantage of the company- if it were even, "tell me about yourself, what you can do, what you are, I'm curious”- if he were an academic, a honest man, a man in control of himself and maybe, just maybe, able to roll with life's unexpected turns better than she could- but he's just a desperate addict under a handsome face, and she's just a rabbit's foot in a four-leaf-cover-chain when he looks at her. Pity. Would have been nice to meet a man who deserved fortune.

[PhoeKun]

Anna nods quietly and goes forward ahead of Rose, sparing a quick glance back at the man that's still tied up.

When they get back onto the larger street, she says "I'm...not sure where my house is. The street is Shortwell and 22nd, but I don't know where we are now."

Kalina is aware that she has wandered into the mission district somewhere, but is probably a fair bit north of that address. It's a good 20 minutes of walking, and its about perpendicular to where the man indicated the warehouse was.

Kalina closes her eyes, letting a mental picture of a map of the city unfold. She focuses on the address she's been given, trying to commit to memory its location in relation to the warehouse fatso had been making for. She opens her eyes again and looks down at Anna. Smiling has gotten uncomfortable, but her eyes are gentle as can be.

"It's a long walk from here to your home. We'll need to head south for a good twenty minutes or so. Let me know if your legs get tired, and I'll carry you for a bit."

She reaches down, offering the girl her hand, and starts off on down the street.

"And... if there's anything else I can do along the way, just ask. I owe you."

[Anarion]

Marchande looks him up and looks him down. Snorts dismissively. Sits down, nails grinding on wood. "I would like to hear about the previous sales representative. To be honest, I don't know anything about the circumstances surrounding his departure."

"Alright sure. His name was Bob Schwartz. He came in similar to how you did, crazy good recommendations, all saying he had a passion for the industry. He never knew a damn thing about wine though, and he didn't need to. Working with him, it was like those stories of the elves that made shoes at night when nobody was around. Now I think about it, there must have been others, he couldn't have gotten the whole business going just by having me pick up pennies."

He chuckles, not a forced one. Marchande would guess that the absurdity of that image got to him even through his current layer of resentment and vitriol.

"He said he was a fairy. You're saying people like him, or you, aren't fairies. I don't get that, maybe you just use different words, I dunno. What he actually looked like was, uh, kinda like a fire if that makes any sense. Like, when I saw what he really looked like, I could smell brimstone and his clothes seemed to singe and smoke around the edges. His skin had a reddish tone too, like he'd been sitting in a sauna too long.

He lived it up too, like fire was his whole schtick basically. He would find people and drink with them and we'd have to go bail him out of jail, but then they'd come in the next day and order 30 barrels of wine.

What he'd tell me is that it was all how you do things. You didn't have to know or believe in anything, you just had to follow all the rules, do things right like people expect. A wine merchant should enjoy his drink, stuff like that. He got me to make sure I never made a single typo in an e-mail to a client. That kind of thing breaks the spell, he'd say, and he was totally right.

We lost him a couple years ago. He got hit by a car I think, might have been drunk driving. The business didn't do that well after that, we started getting beaten out by the bigger dealers and lost some contracts. Then you show up, same crazy recommendations, almost the same reaction to the wine, but now you're telling me that nothing works like he said, even though I saw it with my own eyes."

...And there's that resentment, making its way back full force.

"And... if there's anything else I can do along the way, just ask. I owe you."

Anna seems to have perked up now that you're away from the blood and violence.

"Well" she says in that cunning tone that suggests she wants to get something "You never did tell me who you are or why you were out here, just your name. And if you owe me, I really want to know what you're doing out here like this. Mom told me angels don't exist."

[PhoeKun]

Anna seems to have perked up now that you're away from the blood and violence.

"Well" she says in that cunning tone that suggests she wants to get something "You never did tell me who you are or why you were out here, just your name. And if you owe me, I really want to know what you're doing out here like this. Mom told me angels don't exist."

Well well well! Check out the nerve on this one! Kalina cocks her head to one side and watches Anna with the sort of half-bemused, half-perturbed look adults reserve for children when they step up and take something too big for themselves. She shakes her head, but finds that smiling is a bit easier all of a sudden.

"And here I thought you were one of the shy ones. All right then, Anna, I'll give you another choice. If you believe your mother, then the answer to your question is that I couldn't sleep this night, and happened across you while I was out walking off a bad mood. And that would make you a very lucky girl, because most people who look like me are politicians and might not have done the same things I did.

On the other hand, you can choose to believe your mother was mistaken. In that case, I would tell you that yes, I am an angel or at the very least a superhero, and we met tonight because you needed me and I followed your call. And that's all I can really tell you until you decide what you want to believe."

Kalina flinches a little without meaning to. It's like something flipped a switch inside her brain, or else punched a hole straight through all her walls, and here was this pretty little girl staring right through them at her.

What am I doing?

[Raz_Fox]

Spoiler

Show

"Alright sure. His name was Bob Schwartz. He came in similar to how you did, crazy good recommendations, all saying he had a passion for the industry. He never knew a damn thing about wine though, and he didn't need to. Working with him, it was like those stories of the elves that made shoes at night when nobody was around. Now I think about it, there must have been others, he couldn't have gotten the whole business going just by having me pick up pennies."

He chuckles, not a forced one. Marchande would guess that the absurdity of that image got to him even through his current layer of resentment and vitriol.

"He said he was a fairy. You're saying people like him, or you, aren't fairies. I don't get that, maybe you just use different words, I dunno. What he actually looked like was, uh, kinda like a fire if that makes any sense. Like, when I saw what he really looked like, I could smell brimstone and his clothes seemed to singe and smoke around the edges. His skin had a reddish tone too, like he'd been sitting in a sauna too long.

He lived it up too, like fire was his whole schtick basically. He would find people and drink with them and we'd have to go bail him out of jail, but then they'd come in the next day and order 30 barrels of wine.

What he'd tell me is that it was all how you do things. You didn't have to know or believe in anything, you just had to follow all the rules, do things right like people expect. A wine merchant should enjoy his drink, stuff like that. He got me to make sure I never made a single typo in an e-mail to a client. That kind of thing breaks the spell, he'd say, and he was totally right.

We lost him a couple years ago. He got hit by a car I think, might have been drunk driving. The business didn't do that well after that, we started getting beaten out by the bigger dealers and lost some contracts. Then you show up, same crazy recommendations, almost the same reaction to the wine, but now you're telling me that nothing works like he said, even though I saw it with my own eyes."

...And there's that resentment, making its way back full force.

Marchande is still. Marchande is still, and quiet, and focused. Everything about her, the way she captures attention, is focused and tight and hanging on Jason's words, as if he were giving her a wartime briefing. She blinks once. She doesn't look away from his face.

He finishes, voice thick and heavy with frustration, resentment, looking at this woman who has everything he wants and won't give it to him. And the woman, she keeps looking at him for a moment longer, like she's looking right through his head and evaluating the thoughts there, and she nods once.

"Thank you," she says, crisp and half-amused. Maybe at herself, maybe at him. "That was quite informative. Allow me to apologize for implying that your association ended under strained circumstances. A sudden loss, a sudden fall, coming back to earth after everything was golden... yes, that makes sense."

She folds her hands, and the bracelets - the long hair bracelets that are tight on the wrist - run down her arms, pale on the dark suit. That is a very dark suit. And not a speck of dirt, not a fleck of dust, not a bit of fluff is on it. "I'd like to return the favor. Would you like to know where magic comes from? Would you like to know the unknown history of Bob Schwartz? Would you like to know what he didn't tell you, and how I escaped from hell three days ago?" Her smile's a little too wide, a little too sharp, a little too fixed. "Because I can tell you."

[Anarion]

[Cutting back to Stephanie.]

In the dream, Stephanie is still running, keeping abreast with the wolves. They're keeping their distance from her. She shot one of their eldest members, and the alpha of the pack, a yonger and slightly larger wolf that's running up front, has guided them away from the new hunter and after their original quarry.

That new quarry is beginning to tire. It seems lost as to direction. Rather than let the wolves drive it into exhaustion, it stops and uses its monkey-like arms to rip a small tree out of the ground, turning and swinging it at the alpha wolf, which makes a quick pivot and leaps backwards, avoiding the blow. The other wolves form up as well, circling the beast and staying out of range of the tree, waiting to try and move into its blindspot or for it to tire and drop its heavy, leafy club.

Kalina flinches a little without meaning to. It's like something flipped a switch inside her brain, or else punched a hole straight through all her walls, and here was this pretty little girl staring right through them at her.

What am I doing?

"I...uh" She bites her lip again, which she seems to do when she's trying to think. "I guess, that you're an angel, Ms. Rose. Because I'm sure not that lucky. Mom always says that we need to make our own luck, and I guess my getting in trouble brought you along." She sighs and looks glum, maybe remembering all the events of the evening, or maybe thinking of something else that makes her unlucky.

"Thank you," she says, crisp and half-amused. Maybe at herself, maybe at him. "That was quite informative. Allow me to apologize for implying that your association ended under strained circumstances. A sudden loss, a sudden fall, coming back to earth after everything was golden... yes, that makes sense."

She folds her hands, and the bracelets - the long hair bracelets that are tight on the wrist - run down her arms, pale on the dark suit. That is a very dark suit. And not a speck of dirt, not a fleck of dust, not a bit of fluff is on it. "I'd like to return the favor. Would you like to know where magic comes from? Would you like to know the unknown history of Bob Schwartz? Would you like to know what he didn't tell you, and how I escaped from hell three days ago?" Her smile's a little too wide, a little too sharp, a little too fixed. "Because I can tell you."

"Yes!" He looks eager, unsurprisingly. He tries to calm down though, and takes a deep breath. "I mean, yes, please tell me, if you wouldn't mind."

[PhoeKun]

"I...uh" She bites her lip again, which she seems to do when she's trying to think. "I guess, that you're an angel, Ms. Rose. Because I'm sure not that lucky. Mom always says that we need to make our own luck, and I guess my getting in trouble brought you along." She sighs and looks glum, maybe remembering all the events of the evening, or maybe thinking of something else that makes her unlucky.

"...You are a very interesting child. That's twice now I've given you a choice, and twice you've taken the harder one. That kind of courage will always be rewarded."

Silence rules the moment, interrupted only by the dull sound of Kalina's footfalls on the sidewalk, interspersed with the softer patter of Anna's. Angel looks down at child, watches her movement and her body language. Rose stops walking entirely.

"Do you really think yourself unlucky? You have a home and a family, and you're going to see them again tonight. Is there something wrong? I can almost taste your sadness..."

[Thanqol]

[Cutting back to Stephanie.]

In the dream, Stephanie is still running, keeping abreast with the wolves. They're keeping their distance from her. She shot one of their eldest members, and the alpha of the pack, a yonger and slightly larger wolf that's running up front, has guided them away from the new hunter and after their original quarry.

That new quarry is beginning to tire. It seems lost as to direction. Rather than let the wolves drive it into exhaustion, it stops and uses its monkey-like arms to rip a small tree out of the ground, turning and swinging it at the alpha wolf, which makes a quick pivot and leaps backwards, avoiding the blow. The other wolves form up as well, circling the beast and staying out of range of the tree, waiting to try and move into its blindspot or for it to tire and drop its heavy, leafy club.

Stephanie continued to follow, but she wasn't sure if she should act. She didn't actually have any way to discern if the dream was heading in the right direction or not other than her Oneriomancer's instincts. She could achieve anything, so long as she knew what she had to achieve.

Life without mission briefings was tough.

[OOC I'm as stumped as to what I need to do as Stephanie, so I'm deferring this to dream-wizard instincts]

[Anarion]

"Do you really think yourself unlucky? You have a home and a family, and you're going to see them again tonight. Is there something wrong? I can almost taste your sadness..."

"No I just, Dad's been in jail a long time now and it's hard, that's all. You're not gonna stop wanting to talk to me, are you? Every time I tell people that, they get all weird about it."

[OOC I'm as stumped as to what I need to do as Stephanie, so I'm deferring this to dream-wizard instincts]

The wolves continue to circle, the beast continues to hold them off. They jump in for a quick slash, he slams one with the tree. It shakes it off and recovers.

It seems that the wolves are one member short of being able to create a decisive opening, clarifying what would have happened. If Stephanie had not shot the wolf, they would have overwhelmed the beast, likely killing him before he captured the hart that he's chasing. Now, however, they appear to be in a stalemate, leaving Stephanie to decide how the dream should progress.

[That is, the natural course of the dream would have been for younger, smaller Donkey Kong to get caught and eaten by wolves.]

[PhoeKun]

"No I just, Dad's been in jail a long time now and it's hard, that's all. You're not gonna stop wanting to talk to me, are you? Every time I tell people that, they get all weird about it."

Aha. Mysteries on top of mysteries. Rose shakes her head.

"You don't have to worry about that. You won't be rid of me so easily. But why is your father in jail? Do you know what he did?"

[Thanqol]

The wolves continue to circle, the beast continues to hold them off. They jump in for a quick slash, he slams one with the tree. It shakes it off and recovers.

It seems that the wolves are one member short of being able to create a decisive opening, clarifying what would have happened. If Stephanie had not shot the wolf, they would have overwhelmed the beast, likely killing him before he captured the hart that he's chasing. Now, however, they appear to be in a stalemate, leaving Stephanie to decide how the dream should progress.

[That is, the natural course of the dream would have been for younger, smaller Donkey Kong to get caught and eaten by wolves.]

Urgh. Well, even if it wasn't the correct decision, it was the option that stopped her from having to watch someone get eaten alive by wolves. That made it the right decision.

Stephanie fired an arrow into the mouth of one of the oncoming wolves. It hit the ground and drove the others back. She burst from cover, holding her bow, and shouted, "We've got to go! Find shelter!"

Hopefully that would prompt him in the direction of some kind of castle-like thing.

[Raz_Fox]

"Yes!" He looks eager, unsurprisingly. He tries to calm down though, and takes a deep breath. "I mean, yes, please tell me, if you wouldn't mind."

Marchande stiffens slightly, closes her eyes. Soft exhalation, nail grinding against the table. "What I am about to tell you is true, to the best of my knowing. This is not because fairies tell the truth, because they don't, and I'm not one of them anyway. Once upon a time... once upon a time, there was a man, just like you or me, and his name was probably not Bob Schwartz. We'll call him that anyway. And he was a lusty man, wasn't he, all ruddy and bright with life. He drank and laughed when he ended up in the drunk tank, he might have been a college frat boy, or that one mechanic you like, or... anyone, really. Someone you pass on the street.

"And along comes something that shouldn't exist here, and it sees Bob. Maybe he went drinking with it, maybe he cut it off in traffic, maybe he was just walking alone or didn't know what to do with his life. And this thing, it says to itself, what people really need, what I really need... is a campfire. Or a lamp, or a candle, or a roaring hearth... but we'll call it a campfire."

She opens her eyes. "So it takes Bob, and it binds him with silver chains, and it drags him - trying to scream, gagged with fur and thongs - through the thorns and they tear at him and leave him naked and bleeding and vulnerable, and that's where the fun starts, when they get to Fairyland. They give him the form of a fire, and turn his skin into flames and his bones into cinder-logs and his screams into the snap and crackle. And they sell him to the fairies, who use him to roast marshmallows on. And he stays that way until the day he remembers what it's like to be human, to go get drunk and laugh about it, to..."

Her voice chokes, she waves a hand, glances away from the table. It takes her a moment. "So Bob, he gets up and forces his cinder-logs to bones and makes his flames be skin again, and it hurts, because he's been a fire so long, but he tries all the same. And he forces his way back through, only now he sees that the thorns are pines that choke his breath and scratch his face and where they burn they just make everything worse, and he's terrified that they'll catch him, take him back, and he'll never escape again. Because that's all you think about, when you're there, when you're not part of it. Getting out."

A pause, a mental reshuffling of the cards, a refocusing. When she looks back at him, the very edges of her eyes are red. "And you get back, and you brought it along with you, and you're not even completely human anymore even if you're still doing your hardest to be a person, a proper person, because being a person is the only thing they couldn't take from you. Fairyland likes deals, so you can make them, but you have to stick to them or you'll... or bad things will happen. Maybe you can make people lucky, maybe you can change your face because you used to be a mirror, maybe you can be a shadow and blend into the night, maybe you're made of armor because they used you as a hero for their games. But that's not worth being a normal person. Not after what happened to you beforehand. Do you have any idea what it's like, knowing that one day, your master could come back and drag you back on a leash? That you can never go back to your family, because something made from trash that has your face is there instead? That when you try to get a normal job with normal people, you meet someone who just wants what you can do, without thinking about the price you had to pay? For God's sake, I got out three days ago!"

She lost her cool; it's louder than she meant. She stops, long-nailed hands clasped tightly together, looking young and very faintly lost, her suit armor wrapped around her shoulders. And her focus is all on him again, reading him. "Do you understand now, why I'm not willing to jump into a binding oath with someone I've known for all of a few hours, who got taught fairy-thinking about how to do things by someone who was frankly slapadash in their teaching? Why I'm angry about you assuming that I have special magic powers and the only reason I don't want to jump right into flaunting them is because I dislike you?"

[Anarion]

Aha. Mysteries on top of mysteries. Rose shakes her head.

"You don't have to worry about that. You won't be rid of me so easily. But why is your father in jail? Do you know what he did?"

"I um, I'm not sure. Mom said he hurt someone, so he has to stay away for a long time as punishment. But, I don't know why sometimes it's okay, like that man you tied up, and sometimes it's not, like with my Dad."

Urgh. Well, even if it wasn't the correct decision, it was the option that stopped her from having to watch someone get eaten alive by wolves. That made it the right decision.

Stephanie fired an arrow into the mouth of one of the oncoming wolves. It hit the ground and drove the others back. She burst from cover, holding her bow, and shouted, "We've got to go! Find shelter!"

Hopefully that would prompt him in the direction of some kind of castle-like thing.

As Stephanie takes down one wolf, the beast hurls his tree into another, crushing it into the snow. He then bolts towards Stephanie and past her. As she turns to follow him, she notices a large cave set into a sheer, snowy cliff face behind her, though before there had been only forest.

The wolves don't follow, afraid to go past Stephanie with her bow drawn.

Meanwhile, Charlotte, still on pegasus-back sees the forest start to come into view and can see Stephanie and the wolves as small black dots on the ground far below her. They appear just in time for her to see a larger black dot move into the side of the mountain that wasn't there a few seconds earlier.

"Do you understand now, why I'm not willing to jump into a binding oath with someone I've known for all of a few hours, who got taught fairy-thinking about how to do things by someone who was frankly slapadash in their teaching? Why I'm angry about you assuming that I have special magic powers and the only reason I don't want to jump right into flaunting them is because I dislike you?"

"I...I'm sorry" he manages weakly. It's hard to tell if he believed even half of what he heard, but the emotion was raw enough in Marchande's voice that some of the pain seems to have leaked through to him. Not knowing what to say, he latches on to the waiter bringing along some rolls and begins buttering his with especially great gusto.

[Thanqol]

As Stephanie takes down one wolf, the beast hurls his tree into another, crushing it into the snow. He then bolts towards Stephanie and past her. As she turns to follow him, she notices a large cave set into a sheer, snowy cliff face behind her, though before there had been only forest.

The wolves don't follow, afraid to go past Stephanie with her bow drawn.

Meanwhile, Charlotte, still on pegasus-back sees the forest start to come into view and can see Stephanie and the wolves as small black dots on the ground far below her. They appear just in time for her to see a larger black dot move into the side of the mountain that wasn't there a few seconds earlier.

A cave. Rats.

Stephanie kept moving. One of the things that she did get about dreams was that you didn't have to explain anything to anyone. Nobody in the history of man had ever said while dreaming "Wait a minute. Let's sit down and talk about this logically. Who are you and why were those demon sneakers chasing me?"

"I'm taking you home, sir," said Stephanie. "I think this cave goes deeper..."

Dreams were motion. The cave became a tunnel. There was no reason to stop and catch your breath.

As an afterthought, she started humming some inappropriately jaunty music as she walked.

[Stephanie is attempting to use Psychology on Paul's dream-self by seeding the following ideas:

- He's heading home
- He's in a position of authority over her; i.e. an adult version of himself
- The tunnel is a secret passage to his home
- Inappropriate music forming an aural connection to Rocky's terrible DJing

Hopefully together this will work to make him start thinking of the home of his adult self, which is the nightclub and castle. If that's what he's expecting at the other end of this corridor, that's what will be there.

I got Manipulation+Persuasion to make this happen.]

[Anarion]

[I got Manipulation+Persuasion to make this happen.]

[+1 bonus on the roll for referencing the music. Also, is there a reason you're calling him Paul, instead of Peter, which is his actual name?]

[Thanqol]

[+1 bonus on the roll for referencing the music. Also, is there a reason you're calling him Paul, instead of Peter, which is his actual name?]

[Two hours of sleep make names not work right.

With the Authority Figures speciality confirmed over IM:

5 - 6 - 4 - 1 - 7 - 5 - 8 - 8 (Avg: 5.5)

2 successes.]