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  1. - Top - End - #121
    Ettin in the Playground
     
    PhoeKun's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    The door was open. Kalina didn't bother to frame it in terms any more grandiose than that. The door was open, so she had to step through it, or those under her protection would get hurt.

    Marchande runs up the stairs, Charlotte close behind. And so Rose follows, halting just short of knocking the whole motley over when they abruptly stop in front of yet another open door. Stephanie is there, human and normal and... Rose's hand clenches into a fist. Is this the power of a place called home? The power to be yourself again? What made her so special?! Why did she get to be...

    But no. Kalina's grip loosens. There's more to this situation: a little girl screaming "get out!" and bewildered faces and hat racks that walk and wear masks of fear and doubt and... ok now really, what the hell is going on?

    And now Marchande is stepping forward, taking charge. Kalina closes her eyes, and breathes deeply of the air around her.
    Last edited by PhoeKun; 2012-06-06 at 11:53 AM.

  2. - Top - End - #122
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Marchande blinks, confused for a moment. Pigtails? How in the world is she wearing... she reaches up and feels her ear. Oh. She frowns for a fleeting moment, before shaking her head. Better that she see pigtails than a dog's head.

    "To answer two of your questions," Marchande said, "My name is Marchande, and I know your name because your sister told me all about you while we were escaping... the other place. The very, very bad place. And right now, Helen, we need a place to stay. I, Charlotte, Rose... we escaped without any money, without any identification, without any way to contact our families, or even any assurance that they're still... that changelings weren't left in our place. Like your sister. Stephanie told us that we could stay here, and even though I know you're upset at her, we don't have any other place to stay. So, all I can ask is that you let us stay here, hopefully just for the night. We've been running and we're lost and we need a place to stop running tonight."

    It all spilled out, and it takes a moment for Marchande to regain her composure. "So. Can we rest here, and settle things in the morning between all of us, Miss Helen?"

    Spoiler
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    If needed, Marchande will be rolling Presence + Persuasion. Presence and Persuasion, I think, because she's not trying to be wily and manipulate Helen into letting them stay, but being honest about their desperation. No Glamour-spending on Presence, though.

    Also, how long does it take to harvest Glamour? She's obviously not showing strong Wrath anymore, but I'm wondering if Marchande could have stepped in and breathed deeply of Helen's emotions.
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  3. - Top - End - #123
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    Anarion's Avatar

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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Helen looks a unique combination of amused, angry, overwhelmed and confused.

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    It's going to be a contested roll. Marchande's striking looks apply, so that should be 8 dice for your pool. Poke me if I forgot anything else. Helen is a little amused and doesn't feel threatened by Marchande personally, but there are a bunch of strange people in her home and she's still really mad at Stephanie, so she's getting a +3 bonus and rolling 5 dice based just on her resolve (I don't think composure is relevant here). As per my ruling in the OOC thread, ties go to the PC unless they can be resolved as a distinct outcome, which is not the case here.

    (5d10)[6][9][9][4][8](36)
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
    Quotes

    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  4. - Top - End - #124
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Marchande, on the other hand, seems almost larger-than-life in the small room. Her face is calm, but her gaze - focused on Helen - is intense, if not unkind. She slides her hands into her pockets, a sharp figure in a sharp suit, and waits for Helen's response.
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  5. - Top - End - #125
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    "I...I guess I shouldn't make you all sleep in the street. You'd get your suit all wrinkled and your pigtails muddy *giggles*. There isn't room for six though, so you'll have to sleep on the couch and the floor I guess. Stephie, the extra blankets are in a box in the hall closet, right?"

    *Hat racks tips top hat up and down in what is probably a nod*

    *Helen goes one room over and comes back with some fuzzy blankets.*

    "'Kay, so yeah you can go ahead and set up here. But don't let Stephie and Stephie talk about me anymore or I'm kicking you all out. I'll decide tomorrow what we're gonna do after I have some time to think about it. And you only get to stay for one night. *wags a finger at Marchande* Got it?"
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
    Quotes

    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  6. - Top - End - #126
    Colossus in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Stephanie shared a glance with the hat rack. Not the evening either of them had been expecting, she'd bet.

    She was thankful to Marchy. The last thing she wanted was to have to go back into the cold right now. The weariness she'd been ignoring had crept up on her and she just wanted to collapse.

  7. - Top - End - #127
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    The only thing she can do is stand there. Eventually somebody pushes her inside, but she has no idea who. Rose pauses and reverently places the board she had been carrying so that it leans against the wall next to the door.

    She steps further inside. Had looks up, at a ceiling where she can't see the stars, and it's not because its cloudy and its not because a thick choking forest is in the way and its not because some hunter or ogre or dragon captured her and chained her and beat her so that the blood ran like rose petals over her surcoat, and its not...

    Kalina shivers. She reaches with one hand to touch a blanket. There's not much feeling there through the gauntlet on her hand, but even through cold steel its soft and warm. She clutches her fingers tightly around the fabric, and, and...

    Suddenly she snaps to her full, impressive height. Underneath the coat, her wings strain and flex. And she stares at little Helen. Quickly she turns away and walks toward the wall of the tiny apartment, making no sound but a soft patter as tears, real tears, fall onto the floor at her feet.

  8. - Top - End - #128
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Helen looks to Marchande, who is still near her.

    "Who is that tall lady? She's so pretty, and she looks so sad."
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
    Quotes

    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  9. - Top - End - #129
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Charlotte looks about, watching the slow-fading red orange of the room. And then Rose, uprooted, walks away. Her sadness is visible, but it is not palpable. What does this mean?

    It feels as though forever passes before it fully sinks in: who cares? Priorities.

    Charlotte leans around into Marchande's field of vision and addresses her artfully, so that Helen couldn't be sure she was not also spoken to. "Given everything that's happened, I think Kalina might need a hug and some thanks for our safety, miss."

  10. - Top - End - #130
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    As everyone enters into the room, Marchande sits down, exhausted. She escaped the thorns, fell off a building, walked halfway across the city, and ran upstairs; as she calms down, she realizes that she is deathly tired. The couch is soft, and she could fall asleep... but, no, Helen is asking a question.

    "Rose. She's... pretty. And sad. Bad things happened to her." Things so bad she'd nearly been driven to suicide. Something in her cringed away from that; what could be so awful that dying seemed better? What could they have done to her?

    Charlotte cuts in. Kalina. Rose? Rose. Rose was a nice name. But Charlotte was right. Rose needed a hug. The couch was so very, very nice... "And she is very much in need of a hug. Helen? Please give Charlotte a hug; she had to give Stephanie some color on our way out." Oh please no don't get up... why did she get up? She walked across the room, aching, looking up at this crying archangel. "...do you need a hug?" She asked, lamely, nervously.
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  11. - Top - End - #131
    Colossus in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Stephanie hesitated, stopped by a thought too expansive and complex for her to put into words just yet, just now. A question, aimed at herself.

    But with everything else happening right now there was no time for second guessing herself.

    She ignored the others, walked over to Rose, and silently took her hand. She didn't say anything.

  12. - Top - End - #132
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Helen seems hesitant, even after what Marchande said. After all there are all these strangers in her home. After a moment of indecision, biting her lip and looking altogether uncertain, she turns away, goes into her room and shuts the door. You can hear muffled crying from the other side, though it fades after a short while.

    The coat rack looks around at the four changelings in the apartment and after a few moments says "This is still a dream, right? This is just another of my crazy dreams and I'm going to wake up any minute. Aaany minute."
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
    Quotes

    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  13. - Top - End - #133
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    There wa the awkward cluster of Stephanie and Marchande about their guardian angel, tension thickening the air. There is the stilted an awkward 'Hatsy' off to the side, unreadable - though both stilted was and awkwardness could be the utter lack of body language. She is an animate coat rack after all.

    And there was the quietly sobbing Helen, whose life was ripped open and poorly sewn together with only two options, the horrid scars of the old life of the sudden amputation of the new. Charlotte raises a hand, fingers pale as waxen candles, and brushes her lips and feels the cords on either side of her mouth. She should leave poetic analogy to their Rose. He was mug better at it, less... Painful.

    Watching slow blue clouds of sorrow leak user the door, Charlotte slowly moves up beside... Hatsy. The other Stephanie. Whoever she(?) is. "This must be hard for you, too. I could handle any remaining Chores while you rest, as thanks..."

  14. - Top - End - #134
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    "Chores? I, uh. Well you can put everything away tomorrow morning. And can you cook breakfast? We have eggs in the fridge, and milk and there's some Fruit Loops in the cabinet. Or oatmeal if you like that better. But since when do my dreams offer to do work for me?"
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
    Quotes

    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  15. - Top - End - #135
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    As things settled down and no-one in particular was looking her way, Stephanie opened the cupboard, jumped up to the top shelf, and curled herself up in the tiny space like a cat. The doors closed behind her.

    She'd used to sleep here all the time, when she was frightened or sad. She snuck out of bed at night and hid at the top of the closet. It was a safety point, a fortress. No monsters could get her there, because the only one who could open that door was her mother in the morning, smiling and lifting her down.

    The memory wouldn't quite go away.

    But, in the darkness and in safety, she finally had space to ask that question. It unravelled slowly, mind dancing away from it, trying to distract itself but she kept coming back to the thought. She followed it inch by inch to it's conclusion.

    Am I a terrible person?

    Why am I happy, while everyone else is sad? Am I hurting them to get my way? Am I stealing their lives and leaving them in the dust?

    Helen. Rose. Hatsy. I don't want to hurt them more than I have. Even by accident. Even by implication. But I don't know what they want. I don't know how to fix it.


    "I wish," she murmured aloud, voice softer than a mouse's sigh "I wish more than anything I could see into their hearts. I wish I didn't have to blunder and guess and lie. I wish I knew what they wanted so I could give it to them... I wish..."

    The deep weariness, the red-orange eyes ached as if they were the one part of her that was real. She pushed her head into the linen, strained briefly, and slumped into a drifting sleep.

    And somewhere far away, spring was smiling.

  16. - Top - End - #136
    Ettin in the Playground
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Marchande ends up asleep on the couch, sitting up. Well, sitting up as best she can, which ends up as a slouch across half the couch, without a blanket or pillow. And she dreams.

    Everything smells delightful, and people bump into her without apologizing, without swearing at the dog. She's not on a leash, her moonlight-and-shadow suit cuts through the crowd, she can smell sweat and tea and spices on her tongue, and she can hear the vendors, their voices all blending into each other in a tumult. Oh, it's wonderful!

    Silver strikes her eye; she turns, and the rest of the crowd melts away into colour and mayhem. It is a broach, a bardic token, a harp with delicate strings, and it rests upon a cloak of tartan. Highland; not from the future, from the past. Far past.

    They were the ones who knew the gentleman and his kind best. They were the ones who remembered to leave out milk and to keep iron and that sometimes people were stolen and things were left in their place. And she wanted that broach.

    She asks, he declines, they haggle.
    She shifts in her sleep, blinks, doesn't bother to check the time, closes her eyes again and she's still there, he's still making an offer, and she frowns. She leans in close to the silver, close enough to see long white teeth and dark fur reflected in it; she's still the dog. Not even in her dreams does she get to be human anymore.

    Dreams. She learned something about dreams, back in the bad place, and when she thinks about it for a moment everyone is speaking proper and it's colder and he could be right behind her with his hat and his cane and no no no. She composes herself, the day brightens, the heat returns, and the diction of her surroundings returns to normal. And now she knows that dreams... are funny things. And she's a funny thing, so she understands them.

    I want this, she tells him. I want this, and I am willing to give you... but she has nothing to give, except for power that tastes like pine needles and goblin-hearths, and a bit of luck. That - that - is offered. A curse or a boon, for a silver broach once worn by the bards, by the ones who knew how to keep away the "fair folk".
    freedom in the flame

    Spoiler
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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  17. - Top - End - #137
    Colossus in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    She wasn't yet sure if the jungle being on fire was a plus or a minus to her escape attempt.

    Stephanie decided it was one of those things she'd have to figure out in retrospect.

    The roar of heavy engines sounded as one of the Soviet trucks roared towards her. It smashed through the burning trees like matchsticks, huge and monstrous, equipped with an enormous slicing buzzsaw that tore everything in front of it into splinters. It's horn sounded behind her and lights blazed even through the fire.

    She grabbed her hat tighter and ran for her life.


    Theoretically, everything was going to plan. Her plan had left a lot of room for interpretation - "Step three: Escape from the Ruskies and get the artifact back to the Royal Museum" - but she hadn't missed anything yet.

    She dove forwards and slid on her stomach through ten feet of mud to avoid being crushed by a falling burning tree.

    And they said a plan never survived contact with the enemy.

    The dinosaurs were thick around her now - raptors, compys, steggys, all running as fast as their lizard legs could carry them away from the fire and the soviet truck. Stephanie kept up, putting more and more distance between her and the reds. Turns out there wasn't much speed if you stopped to thresh the roses.

    And then, all of a sudden, she was out on the open savannah, in the middle of a herd of thousands of sprinting dinosaurs. Under the bright blue sky and plumes of smoke, surrounded by miles of green grass in every direction, heading directly towards a massive cliff face. It was one of the most spectacular moments of her life.

    She ran.

    The truck emerged from the splintered wreckage of the burning forest and floored the accelerator as it came after them.

    She ran faster.

    She was alongside a velociraptor, sprinting with it's head-bobbing gait. She waved at it as she ran. Out of pure reflex, it took a bite at her. She jumped out of the way, into the side of a stegosaurus - and just out of the way of the missile that had been shot from the truck directly at her. It sailed away forwards and impacted in the side of the cliff.

    She flipped up onto the back of the stegosaurus, turning around, and dropping to her stomach as she saw another missile come. She jumped to her feet, ran, and launched off the stegosaurus' head. She caught a pterodactyl by the claws, twisted around so she was on top of it - dodging another missile so narrowly she felt the heat wave in the process - and launching herself up into the air further. She caught the swinging tail of a brontosaurus and started running up along it's spine.

    A fourth missile launched, missed, and hit the cliff face. The cliff face crumbled, and started to fall in a massive avalanche. The dinosaur stampede started to split off in either direction.

    Stephanie ran up to the brontosaurus' head, and jumped.

    She jumped, hit a falling rock in a crouch and kicked off it. She bounced into the wall and flipped upwards, dodging being crushed by a boulder by an inch. She ran up along the sheer face until another missile hit in front of her, sending down a huge rockslide. She swung upside down, let her feet catch the bottom of the falling rock, and ran up around it. She could see the top. She leaped for it -

    - there's no way -

    - she caught it, but just by the very tips of her fingers. Her legs kicked awkwardly out over empty air below her, and she didn't quite have the grip to swing herself up. Her hands started to slip through the loose dirt. She felt the edge coming nearer -

    And then a heavy leather boot came down on her fingers, pinning her in place.

    And the boot twisted.

    She heard the crunch of breaking bones even over her scream.

    She heard the voice - male, nasal, cultured - "Khoyshekh. Finally."



    She didn't wake up screaming audibly. She just opened her eyes and made a suffocated little gasp.

    It was dark. It was warm. It was safe.

    She pressed a hand into her forehead and groaned.

    Why did eight seconds of nightmare leave a stronger impression than eight hours of dream?

    She slumped back into place. She wasn't going out. She wasn't going out until someone made her. Until then she just wanted some more sleep, some real sleep.

    She soon faded back into the dark.
    Last edited by Thanqol; 2012-06-11 at 02:46 AM.

  18. - Top - End - #138
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    It was these "Jack and the Beanstalk" types she hated the most. When you were hunting a Nightmare or a hag or a dragon or even an ogre, things were very straight forward. They were big, yes, but they came straight at you, and you'd go right at them, and the one who hit the hardest got to live for another day. But these giants were always cultured enough to surround themselves with the trappings of the human world, and they liked to rub your nose in it.

    Everything was so familiar, but big. Much too big. It made her feel tiny and insignificant. Like a child, or even a little doll depending on how big the bastard was. Today? Today was a doll day. Kalina tightened her grip on her sword and gave it a few experimental swings in the empty air. The blade danced and sang, twisting and bending like water or a whip as it sliced through a wax candle nearly as large as she was.

    "And just what do you think you're doing?" The booming voice of a god shook her to the core. She could feel her bones rattling.

    Kalina stood up straight and spun on her heels to face the colossus. From her position on his dinner table, she had a very good look at his chest and his face, particularly the fine silk tunic and immaculately groomed beard. She knew the type: a bully who played at being a gentleman. But something about the way he carried himself made Kalina feel inadequate. She smoothed her surcoat, shook some stray locks of hair back into place, and let her wings unfurl to their full length before responding:

    "Well, sir, I'm here to kill you."

    His laughter echoed through the halls, rattling the silverware and nearly sending the archangel down on one knee. She looked up at him in brazen defiance. Bigger things than him had tried to give her the fee fi fo fum routine. Bigger things than him were dead. So when he leaned down to smirk in her face, she whirled and sliced his lip open.

    His scream was deafening. With her ears ringing and her world plunged into white noise, Kalina began a dance with death. Here she'd slash at an exposed forearm, ducking and narrowly avoiding the huge backhand threatening to take her head off. Now she dived off the table, wings spread wide, and let her whip blade dig into his waist. She swung through the air and kicked a steel boot into his back and dug a series of bloody wounds all the way up to his shoulder. She dug her heels in and readied herself to ram the blade straight through his ear.

    She didn't notice him bring his arm up, not until he flicked her off of his shoulder like a pesky fly. Kalina went spiraling through the air and slammed into it like a comet. She coughed and sucked in air painfully, and she could feel the strain of three... make that four broken ribs. She scrambled to get up, to get to her feet, and got as far as pushing herself to a sitting position before everything suddenly went dark.

    Impossibly dark. Not the kind of black you get when you shut your eyes or go to sleep or even when you're in a coma. This was darker than that, a place where light had never been allowed to exist. As if on cue, she was bathed in a column of light. It showed the mansion, but only so far as the... was that a spotlight? Only so far as it stretched. Another popped up with a click, showing the bloody giant frozen mid-stride on his way toward her. In between the pair floated a shadow, visible in the dark despite the impossibility of it all. A gaunt and grim figure with arms like scythes and eyes like the angry moon and... no. Oh no.

    "Ladies and gentlemen," It didn't so much speak the words as draw them into the pit of nothing that seemed to exist around it. If it had a mouth, Kalina knew it would be smiling. "This has been entertaining, but a bit unfair, don't you agree? It's time to introduce a handicap. Miss Silver Knight, let's have that sword from you."

    The world dove back into light and the mansion returned. Kalina's fingers closed around thin air, maybe a moment or two before the giant's fingers closed around her. He lifted her up so they could look each other in the eye.

    "Well well well! You sure are a feisty one, aren't you? And so lovely, too! I think that I will keep you. My pretty little songbird, safe inside her cage. Won't that be nice?"

    He brought a finger down to caress her hair. Kalina struggled and grit her teeth, but could not stop herself from blushing. She screamed, and turned her head to face away, to do anything but show him her reactions and give him the satisfaction of knowing just how close he'd come to breaking her. That's when she noticed the loose stone sticking out of the floor. A blur of motion, and she catches the fluttering of a cloak as its owner ducks out the window.

    A misplaced foot. The giant stumbled and crashed against his table. Kalina wound up lying face first next to a knife like a greatsword... no, bigger than that. She grabbed it, lifted, and lunged desperately, plunging it straight into...


    Rose startles when her fist suddenly collides with the floor of the apartment. Blankets and calmness and... what... what was that? She struggles for breath and tosses away the blanket she had been cherishing that night. Sweat drips from her face.

    Her eyes fall on Marchande, propped up on the couch, and she sighs.

  19. - Top - End - #139
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Charlotte strode slowly behind her new friends as they made a path through the thick press of bodies.

    Stephanie was ecstatic to have her sister and her home back, Marchande walked along with eyes like a vintner's hands, looking to pluck deals like grapes from a vine, Rose, resplendent, strode forth with her new dressing gown and her wings and her glory, like a herald. Charlotte did her best to avoid bing stared at for wearing only her ragged slip. She wore anonymity like armor, but here, in the bright lights and bustling crowd at the market street bazaar, it did not seem like enough.

    They converse, but for once Charlotte does not pay attention. The air is a dry stucco tan color, thick with haggling and stalls and bumbling, excitement and disappointment. If the air was too clear, to clean-tasting, she did not notice, swept along as she was.

    But then the conversations turned, and Stephanie pulls Kalina away saying something about protecting Helen, and Marchande pulls Rose away saying something about needing an angel's word to get business going, and it is for a moment a lavender spiral as Charlotte has trouble remembering the two are the same person, as Kalina/Rose pulls
    her and says they must find a guard who stood for fifty years and ask him for... Something. Mercy? A weapon? This doesn't seem right.

    Charlotte focuses her mind and the market organizes. Bodies still pressing but in an orderly way, shouts drowning out each other but leaving the air clear to speak through, stalls ordered into avenues down which to look, and Charlotte looks and just sees Stephanie sloths away around a corner by the hiking equipment. Charlotte turns, and Kalina disappears into a blue paneled stall to adventure proper, and she is giggling, smiling, before a man in a coat tells her it's bigger on the inside and shuts the door. Charlotte whirls again, her shift flying off like paper an she spies the barest flash of pant, the barest click of heel and wag of tail as Marchande disappears behind a large food stand.

    Charlotte chases her, disjointedly moving from scene to scene, only Marchande and her proximity constant, before slow as molasses she grabs the business woman's hand and asks why she left. Marchande laughs like brazen bells and says of course she cannot work with someone
    ]nude and so is trying to find her clothes and would she like that? Charlotte says yes, and Marchande says she will find her clothes but it's a surprise so she is to find Stephanie, who should stick out because she is blonde. But now everyone on Market is blonde and they are all moving so strangely and for the first time in a long time Charlotte feels achingly alone, cutting through even the thick muslin dream logic to her heart, and the tears roll down her face and darken the streets in a flood even as she decides to take control.

    Height. Stephanie likes height.
    Charlotte spins and finds the first stone building and climbs the stairs there, grey a the cement they come from.
    Around a veranda and up another flight of light adobe, gazing out over the Spanish market, but that was the dream logic taking over gain and she needed to find Stephanie and that could wait, so up another flight. Grey. Cement and cold.
    A final veranda, and Charlotte leans on the edge and looks down. In the sudden slant of the light she watches the market folk scurry and her eyes unfocus. The deep dark of the asphalt still wet with tears becomes blackness, the light off the buildings reflecting the scurrying people become violet motes.

    Slowly the scene becomes Stephanie writ large, her outline made of bustling humanity and she asks irritatedly why Charlotte pulled her out an disturbed her. Charlotte does not have an answer, she is just lonely, and so says Stephanie, why not go with Kalina? But Charlotte does not know where she is, either, an Stephanie now stands on the balcony with her and looks out, and then points. Stephanie says Kalina is resting, of course, but still ready as Market Street points like an arrow from her navel upward,
    is an arrow on her belly while she lay next to a bow and of course Kalina now lay below, mocking sleep while holding guard, an arrow clenched in her beautiful white hands.

    Charlotte almost jumps as clawed hands drop on her shoulder and latch, catching the skin tearing her at the seams pulling
    But no it is Marchande who is a friend and Charlotte is in control. She turns to see the worry on her friend's face and shakes her head that no, it was nothing just a start. This is enough for Marchande, who drapes a long black coat over Charlotte's shoulders and tells her to ask for more when they next meet.






    Charlotte opens her eyes. There was a thump noise and now Kalina seems to be awake. She blinks almost audibly, trying to get her bearings. Dimly she remembers a half-promise, and that it is almost morning perhaps she should begin to cook...

  20. - Top - End - #140
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    You awake to several beams of whitish light coming through the sides of the shades in the living room and casting white slashes onto the furniture. One of them is just over Charlotte's face, and another looks like it's about to reach Kalina, although she is already awake.

    Stephanie is not visible in the main room, and Helen's door is still closed. The coat rack appear to be perched next to the kitchen, held up by the wall. You can actually hear soft snores and with a slight snort coming from it.
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
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    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  21. - Top - End - #141
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    The coat rack rouses itself and says "well, so much for doing me any favors, don't know what I expected anyway." It then proceeds into the kitchen and starts clattering some plates out onto the table and busily making some eggs.

    It also switches on the television, which is broadcasting the local news, and shouts out "Helen, get up! I'm not letting you spend the entire Saturday in bed!" This has the side effect of waking everyone but Stephanie if they weren't awake already. The coat rack does not seem to care, and indeed seems to be doing its utmost to pretend the rest of you just aren't there, although it did set up plates for everyone.

    The news cycles through several issues very quickly. First, there's going to be a big celebration the next day. Apparently the Golden Gate Bridge is having its 75th anniversary, and you've arrived just on that weekend. They expect the fog to clear out by Sunday evening and there is a planned fireworks show to be held on the bridge. According to the anchor, it will "light up the whole bay like the 4th of July." The San Francisco Giants are doing well, but their star pitcher has been doing terribly. People are saying it's almost like he was replaced by a totally different person. There's going to be an election pretty soon. Several candidates are running for supervisor and a couple of state senate positions. You see the candidate for district 7 speaking in the background on a pedestal. She's not all that clearly visible since the anchor is talking and the picture is fuzzy, but she does appear to have platinum locks of hair, piercing blue eyes, and a proud and impeccable posture. There have been some disappearances downtown, mostly homeless people, but a couple kids were also lost, which has everyone quite worried. They're also still investigating that explosion at the power plant that happened a couple months prior. People are saying it was caused by a gas line with a malfunctioning seal, but investigators think it would be difficult to miss catching that for so long and are continuing their work.
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
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    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  22. - Top - End - #142
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    At "Hatsy"s call, Charlotte wakes up abruptly and stumbles immediately towards the kitchen. She rubs her eyes blearily an slides past to rinse her hands in the sink. "I'm sorry Madame. I was being taken about the shops by Marchande and must have overslept." She attempts to help with the remaining preparations, but slows and looks to the fetch's eyes, she hopes. "If I may, Madame, why did you rise early if I were to do these chores?"

  23. - Top - End - #143
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    "I..."

    It occurs to you that one of the disadvantages of dealing with an animate coat rack is that reading emotion on the face is not a particularly easy task. But after a moment of hesitation, it simply says

    "...didn't want to trouble you. I'm just so much in the habit of working and getting everything ready, y'know? Now, I've already got these eggs scrambling, they'll be ready in just a few minutes. Why don't you finish setting the table, and then you can put away all the blankets. They go in the box at the bottom shelf of the hall closet."

    In the hallway, Helen comes out wearing a pink flannel nightgown imprinted with several fluffy sheep and her hair in a style you might call "abandoned bird's nest." When she sees Kalina and Marchande in the main room, she lets out a small meep, turns bright scarlet and slams her door.
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
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    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  24. - Top - End - #144
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Charlotte nods earnestly and sets about finishing the assigned tasks. We mind is elsewhere, however, even as her body follows through with practiced precision.

    Stephanie was able to pull herself together. She looked human again. Does this mean she, herself, could? How? Could Kalina garb herself in her wings and be mortal again, if only for a while? Could Marchande be free of her hound's form? How?

    Magic. This wasn't Faerie anymore, but Stephanie and Kalina are both proof they have brought magic with them...

    Charlotte leans in the doorway amidst the chattering television's sounds, bites her lip and stares. If Hatsy has posture, she ha body language. And if she has body language, she has a face. Or a least Charlotte could pretend?



    Spoiler
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    spending one point of Glamour to see Hatsy's mask.

    We really need another name for Hatsy.

  25. - Top - End - #145
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    While Charlotte is busily putting the blankets away, she notices that Stephanie (who now looks like a shadow form creature again) is curled up at the top of the closet in what looks to be troubled sleep. She resembles nothing more than a black, translucent cat.

    When Charlotte expends her glamour and glances back at the coat rack, she gives a slight start. The coat rack looks exactly like Stephanie did as a blond girl last night. Well, perhaps not exactly. The hair is shorter and better kept, and somehow you don't think Stephanie would be caught dead wearing such a prim set of dark pants and white blouse. This version of Stephanie looks almost like a school teacher...or an army drill sergeant.

    "Stephanie" turns around in the kitchen and, with a somewhat strained smile on her face, announces, "Okay everyone, breakfast is ready!"
    School Fox by Atlur

    Quote Originally Posted by The Giant View Post
    Anarion's right on the money here.
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    "Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”
    Oscar Wilde Writer & Poet (1891)

  26. - Top - End - #146
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    It's the television that wakes Marchande up. Old set, new news. There's something about a bridge- she's still blinking, shaking her head, as they talk about it. Then a pitcher, a sudden reversal. How many like them are there? Did he walk down the wrong street, talk to the wrong person? Of course, she thinks, not every change in a person's life is because of them, but...

    White-gold hair, perfect posture, clear diction. The name, what's the name? Kalina? She has no armor, no wings, no vulnerability, but that is undeniably... no, no, the changelings look like the coatrack. She turns to Kalina, ignoring the rest of the news, and asks, "Your sister?"
    freedom in the flame

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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  27. - Top - End - #147
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Rose's world grinds to a halt. The 75th year anniversary of the Golden Gate? The seventy fifth?! That's not... that's not possible. How could she have been in that place for that many years? For a... for a lifetime! Her blood runs cold and her hands clench into fists. No, no. No no no no.

    And then the political candidate appears on screen. There is a buzzing sound... no, wait. Marchande is asking a question.

    "I do not have a sister." She says through clenched teeth, before a thought suddenly strikes her:

    "That I... that I know of." she finishes awkwardly, almost seeming to deflate. She stands, stares at the television set for a long time, and holds a hand against her temple.

    "...It would be rude to deny this hospitality. We should eat."
    Last edited by PhoeKun; 2012-06-15 at 02:26 PM.

  28. - Top - End - #148
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Marchande deliberately waits a moment before stretching languidly and saying, "Yes. Jolly..." She's not a dog, that comes when called. But she's not like him or his guests, either; she can't speak like that. "...breakfast smells good," she finishes lamely.

    She also notes that she's not going to ask about that politician again. It's obviously some kind of sore spot with Kalina. An estranged sister, or half-sister, perhaps. Not worth the pain of bringing it up to her.

    Breakfast. Then, the university. Possibly. Or, at least, talking, taking the chance to sit down and discuss what to do now, how Stephanie made herself human again, how to get their lives back... hopefully.
    freedom in the flame

    Spoiler
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    Quote Originally Posted by PhoeKun View Post
    Raz, you scoundrel! You planned this!
    Quote Originally Posted by BladeofObliviom View Post
    Great, and now I'm imagining what Raz's profile on a dating site would look like. "Must be okay with veils."
    Quote Originally Posted by Kasanip View Post
    I don't think there is such a time to have veils that it is not the fault of Raz_Fox.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dervag View Post
    It's a freaking Romulan dump truck. The Romulans are no more likely to build an unarmed warp-capable ship than they are to become a hippy commune.

  29. - Top - End - #149
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    Charlotte turns hazily back toward the closet, finishing the arranging of blankets. Stephanie is here in the closet, of course. She has never really thought of stephanie as a blonde girl. She has always been light within shadows. But if that was how the world say Hatsy, it would be easy to get them confused. Even her sister...

    Stay thoughts. Stray thoughts for stray moments. Now is time for breakfast, and -- oh!

    "Stephanie, miss, it is time for breakfast. We can find you a hat or perhaps draw the blinds, but we need you. You must come talk with us."
    Her voice as sweetly pleading as it can be in this situation, Charlotte chastises herself internally. Stephanie is a thing of shadows, after all, and has never liked the light. Daylight may even kill her! And it took all this time to notice. Well, she will have to be more diligent. But first...

    She turns to the rest of the group, intent on asking a favor while there is still some goodwill. Her face falls, slightly. 'Hatsy' is already fading, soon to be a coat rack once more. Oh well. Charlotte clears her throat and looks pointedly at Hatsy's outfit.

    "Um, Madame... Stephanie, would I be able to borrow something to wear?" she curtsies, holding the torn rags that were once a slip.
    Last edited by SiuiS; 2012-06-16 at 04:32 PM.

  30. - Top - End - #150
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    Default Re: [Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

    There was a kind of low, hissed grumbling from the closet, which quickly faded back into quiet.

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