[Changeling IC] Time's Wings: Dark Omens

[Elanorin]

[Will reply properly when roll is resolved.

Rolling Manipulate + Subterfuge + Striking Looks = 9, 10, 10 (10-again: 1, 3). Three successes

...it's a tie. Dear gosh, these two.

One piece of truth, that was the bargain. And here it is:

Lily is still waiting for her rescue. We broke free of Arcadia and we clawed our way back to Reality, but we are far from safe. We're in as much danger here as ever. The huntsmen are breathing down our necks, trying to steal us back to our former tormentors, and even when they are not, this world is nothing like the home we left. It is full of volatile magic, corrupted truths and fellow refugees so warped from their imprisonment it's as if they're barely people anymore, some of them. So she is still running, still waiting, still afraid.

If You won't save the day, if You won't remind her how it feels to be Safe, then who will?

[Raz_Fox]

“There are rules.”

Isaac’s voice is... almost pained. Underneath the growl. Underneath the beast.

“Anointed. Released.”

A hand striking upon his chest, his ribs which protrude like buttresses, his body a fortress from which violence issues forth.

“You are lying. Or.” Or the game was meaningless. Or it all meant nothing. Or there is no way to win, if you are truly meant to return. He burned away his weakness! He submitted to the fire! His sin flaked away, and he earned the right to salvation. How dare you. How dare you?

“...I am free.” There will be no return.

But also. There are innocents here. Difficult. And he already scarred and rent by iron.

“By the stars, I challenge you. Until the flame perishes. Until the flame and the rose are one. Come.”

And the tattoos wound about him flicker into life.

[Contract of Fae Cunning, activated with Catch. Which means if Longarms fires the bazooka: Pilgrim gets full defense, AND redirects the attack wheresoever he chooses if it doesn’t hit.]

2A/9 Health
Glamour 4/10
Willpower 4/6

[TheAmishPirate]

One piece of truth, that was the bargain. And here it is:

Lily is still waiting for her rescue. We broke free of Arcadia and we clawed our way back to Reality, but we are far from safe. We're in as much danger here as ever. The huntsmen are breathing down our necks, trying to steal us back to our former tormentors, and even when they are not, this world is nothing like the home we left. It is full of volatile magic, corrupted truths and fellow refugees so warped from their imprisonment it's as if they're barely people anymore, some of them. So she is still running, still waiting, still afraid.

If You won't save the day, if You won't remind her how it feels to be Safe, then who will?

Oh. Oh, Lily.

You bet on the wrong bastard.

[Rolling Manipulate+Subterfuge: 5, 10, 5, 3, 10, 6 (Ten again: 9, 3)]

In turn, here is your nugget of truth, justly earned:

Edmund doesn't know your name.

He calls you 'Lily'. That's a name that comes up a lot, in recent memory. But it's not the only name that goes here. Not by a long shot. Of peasant Princesses, of hard-won freedoms, of secret meetings in the wilderness to clasp hands and share hearts, of clandestine plots against oppressors, how many has he lived through? How many have stood where you stand? And which arc of the Story does he walk now? In a whirlwind of names and faces, no two ever match.

So he calls you 'Lily', and prays no one corrects him.

A single line appeared on Lily's forehead, not enough for a frown but still a telling sign of her confusion despite it being distracted by his taking her hand. It washed that same forced feeling of warm familiarity, safety and Home over her that it always did. The fact that he was touching her at all was what caused her pause. What... was happening?

"Why? Where are you going?"

He took his hand away from her, turning aside. "Elsewhere. Not too far from the bank; I've got some business to take care of." He glanced back to her. "Besides, you were never seen at Mrs. Height's house. I was. Didn't you just say I shouldn't cross her?"

[Thanqol]

Jack slips away and Aelas is left holding air and wondering what just happened. She had totally been ready to spring into action! Or, well, like, if something had happened to Isaac, she was pretty sure she'd have gotten to the springing at that point. Like, 80% sure that springing was going to happen, and OH MY GOD IS THAT A BAZOOKA? Wait, no that was out loud, whatever else Aelas may be, she's not one for keeping her internal monologues all bottled up.

"OH MY GOD IS THAT A BAZOOKA? Where, how did you get that?!?!?"

Longarms looks enormously flattered by Aelas' exclamation.

"I borrowed it," he said, with the tone and pose and smug smile of a man confiding something he's enormously proud of.

“By the stars, I challenge you. Until the flame perishes. Until the flame and the rose are one. Come.”

And the tattoos wound about him flicker into life.

[Contract of Fae Cunning, activated with Catch. Which means if Longarms fires the bazooka: Pilgrim gets full defense, AND redirects the attack wheresoever he chooses if it doesn’t hit.]

"Ooo!" said Longarms, raising his hands to either side, mugging for the crowd. "You hear that? Mr. Zakky here is so totes serious about not going back to basketball jail that he's prepared to play basketball to escape it!"

He's good at this. The crowd lets out a big 'ooooOOOOooooo', even though they don't really understand the diss.

"YOU MUGGLES WANNA SEE SOME HOOP?" yelled Longarms.

"Yeah!" people shouted.

"I. CAN'T. HEAR. YOU. YOU WANNA SEE SOME HOOP?"

'YEAH!" the entire crowd roared.

"YOU WANNA SEE HOW MUCH ONE MAN CAN CHEAT IN A MAGICAL BASKETBALL GAME?"

"YEAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the crowd screamed.

"Sounds like they want me to take you up," said Longarms. "Take you up and crush you down. Duel accepted. You got your three players?"

[Raz_Fox]

To be fair, the Pilgrim intended the challenge to be wrestling, or some other violent art that they both excel at- yet, he has used the tongue he is accustomed to. Basketball it is.

“Go get Edmund.” This, he says to Aelas, in a stern and preoccupied tone. The other one is chasing his shadow, Lily would not do this, but Aelas and Edmund... he would stand with them and be proud.

Also, magic basketball allows for bodyslams, which will be deeply satisfying.

[stveje]

Everything happened so fast, not-Jack had no time to think, only act. All he knew was that he couldn't lose track of his fetch, and so he followed ...

Where are they going?

[Anarion]

"Sure, yeah, I'll get Edmund. You heard him say he's going to cheat though, right?" Aelas starts tapping her phone (hers is a nice new model android phone of some sort of other, and she goes right through to Edmund, who is of course on her favorites list for speed dialing. "Like all the cheating, you definitely heard all the cheating, right?"

Meanwhile, wherever Edmund his and whatever the ring-tone is on his phone, it should be singing merrily at this point as Aelas calls him.

[Thanqol]

To be fair, the Pilgrim intended the challenge to be wrestling, or some other violent art that they both excel at- yet, he has used the tongue he is accustomed to. Basketball it is.

“Go get Edmund.” This, he says to Aelas, in a stern and preoccupied tone. The other one is chasing his shadow, Lily would not do this, but Aelas and Edmund... he would stand with them and be proud.

Also, magic basketball allows for bodyslams, which will be deeply satisfying.

The edges of the world are getting a little hazy as you start getting in the spirit again.

I'm not saying don't do this, but I am saying that this is potentially going to be a very extreme re-enacting of scenes from your Durance. You could be looking at some really ugly Clarity rolls as this goes forwards.

"You've got a few hours to get ready," said Longarms. "We're gonna do this under the stars, people!"

Everything happened so fast, not-Jack had no time to think, only act. All he knew was that he couldn't lose track of his fetch, and so he followed ...

Where are they going?

Not far at all.

Jack stands amidst a fishmarket, tracing his fingers along chilled scales and jellied eyeballs. Drips of saliva drop from his jaws onto the fish, which he then politely buffs away with the sleeve of his jacket. With his eye-sockets on the side of his head you can't tell if he's looking at you or not but he's not seeming to acknowledge your presence.

[stveje]

Not far at all.

Jack stands amidst a fishmarket, tracing his fingers along chilled scales and jellied eyeballs. Drips of saliva drop from his jaws onto the fish, which he then politely buffs away with the sleeve of his jacket. With his eye-sockets on the side of his head you can't tell if he's looking at you or not but he's not seeming to acknowledge your presence.

Not-Jack walks up to him, wary but without hesitation, looking him dead in the eye. The eyes are windows to the soul, or whatever black thing serves in place of this creature's soul, and not-Jack wants to know it ... wants to understand this thing that tries to look like him. He picks up one of the fish that Jack had buffed, and tastes its cold, scaly skin, with its taste of salt and regrets.

The Dragon Knows
Aiming to keep eye contact for a few seconds to satisfy the loophole. Let me know if it works, or if I have to pay Glamor.

Wits+Empathy+Mantle = 8: 8, 4, 1, 10, 5, 5, 6, 10; ten again 4, ten again 1

3 successes vs Composure+Supernatural Resistance

[Thanqol]

Not-Jack walks up to him, wary but without hesitation, looking him dead in the eye. The eyes are windows to the soul, or whatever black thing serves in place of this creature's soul, and not-Jack wants to know it ... wants to understand this thing that tries to look like him. He picks up one of the fish that Jack had buffed, and tastes its cold, scaly skin, with its taste of salt and regrets.

The Dragon Knows
Aiming to keep eye contact for a few seconds to satisfy the loophole. Let me know if it works, or if I have to pay Glamor.

Wits+Empathy+Mantle = 8: 8, 4, 1, 10, 5, 5, 6, 10; ten again 4, ten again 1

3 successes vs Composure+Supernatural Resistance

[Fine for the glamour]

Despite the steadiness of the unblinking red glow in that crocodile skull you detect flickers in the light. Jack regrets being alone. He does not have any friends and that is something his valentines-day-card heart craves. He tries but all his attempts end in blood and bone. Perhaps he is like you, shorn of all of your understanding.

"Does it like the fish?" asked Jack brightly, abruptly speaking again. "These are neighbours. River fish, swamp fish, silver-of-mud. Will you eat them?"

[Elanorin]

He took his hand away from her, turning aside. "Elsewhere. Not too far from the bank; I've got some business to take care of." He glanced back to her. "Besides, you were never seen at Mrs. Height's house. I was. Didn't you just say I shouldn't cross her?"

"Yeah, no, of course. You're right. Silly of me," Lily said, tripping over her words as she tried to cover up her own embarrassment with them. "Doesn't really make sense for you to- I mean I can- ...do this myself. It's not like it needs..." Lily's voice faded and her eyes stared in to a patch of thin air in the general direction of the ground. She drew a breath and gathered herself, the pink on her cheeks settled back down and a frown returned to her face as mortification gave way to hurt and anger.

"Yeah, you should go." She looked up to look him in the eyes as she added, "I don't need you." Her voice was not quite strong enough to carry those words with complete dignity and it shook under the weight of them.

Mercifully something started to make a sound in his pocket.

"You should probably get that," Lily said as she walked past him and left, bumping her shoulder hard against his, entirely on purpose.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Yeah, no, of course. You're right. Silly of me," Lily said, tripping over her words as she tried to cover up her own embarrassment with them. "Doesn't really make sense for you to- I mean I can- ...do this myself. It's not like it needs..." Lily's voice faded and her eyes stared in to a patch of thin air in the general direction of the ground. She drew a breath and gathered herself, the pink on her cheeks settled back down and a frown returned to her face as mortification gave way to hurt and anger.

"Yeah, you should go." She looked up to look him in the eyes as she added, "I don't need you." Her voice was not quite strong enough to carry those words with complete dignity and it shook under the weight of them.

"Good," He said to her face.

Mercifully something started to make a sound in his pocket.

"You should probably get that," Lily said as she walked past him and left, bumping her shoulder hard against his, entirely on purpose.

"...you never did." He whispered to her back.

Edmund swayed, but didn't budge a step. He watched her leave until he could see her no longer. Until he was sure she'd left the park unmolested.

And then he watched a moment more.

"Sure, yeah, I'll get Edmund. You heard him say he's going to cheat though, right?" Aelas starts tapping her phone (hers is a nice new model android phone of some sort of other, and she goes right through to Edmund, who is of course on her favorites list for speed dialing. "Like all the cheating, you definitely heard all the cheating, right?"

Meanwhile, wherever Edmund his and whatever the ring-tone is on his phone, it should be singing merrily at this point as Aelas calls him.

'Merrily' is a subjective term.

Edmund's phone beeped. Perhaps merrily, if one held a deep passion for mornings, and the sound of a sterile alarm clock blaring away was the beckoning call of an old lover. Perhaps not, if one were sane, and in full possession of your ears. The phone itself matched the ringtone; blocky, sharp, gray, one of those older models you could drive a truck over and damage the truck. It neither flipped nor slid. It had a few more than nine buttons, and less colors than that on the screen. The one anomaly was a bright pink glittering butterfly sticker stuck to the back of the phone, that Edmund maintained could not be removed by any consumer-grade anti-adhesive product, and whoever was responsible ought to be brought up on charges of vandalism.

Edmund punched the phone button, and greeted the caller with a curt, "What?"

[Anarion]

Edmund punched the phone button, and greeted the caller with a curt, "What?"

"Edmund!"

For those of you in the mall, Aelas is actually taken aback by how curt Edmund sounds and slightly flinches away from her phone. But then again, none of you may even be watching and she runs over that moment of hesitation like a steamroller, blink and you missed it.

"Get down to the mall, quick! Isaac challenged one of the Huntsman to a game of magic basketball and he wants you and ME on his team. I wanna play magic basketball, it sounds super fun, but also the Huntsman says he's gonna cheat, like, a lot, and we need you so we don't all get dragged into the hedge and back to Faerie, hurrrrry!!!"

[Elanorin]

Lily headed straight home. The key had to wait. Mr Breton's house had to wait. Right now she was furious and she was upset and she was hurt and worst of all she couldn't stop these damn tears from streaming down her face.

She slammed the door shut behind her and stormed inside. She went from room to room in search for the Winter King. He was going to get a piece of her mind and he was going to get it right the hell now.

[Thanqol]

Lily headed straight home. The key had to wait. Mr Breton's house had to wait. Right now she was furious and she was upset and she was hurt and worst of all she couldn't stop these damn tears from streaming down her face.

She slammed the door shut behind her and stormed inside. She went from room to room in search for the Winter King. He was going to get a piece of her mind and he was going to get it right the hell now.

Two hands have emerged from the sleeping bag to loosely grip an xbox controller. He's playing a video game wherein a brightly coloured pink dragon lady beats up alien robots. When you burst into the room the hands start to withdraw inside the sleeping bag like a startled snail.

[Elanorin]

Two hands have emerged from the sleeping bag to loosely grip an xbox controller. He's playing a video game wherein a brightly coloured pink dragon lady beats up alien robots. When you burst into the room the hands start to withdraw inside the sleeping bag like a startled snail.

Lily's hands formed tight fists at her sides and she wanted to just tear that damn sleeping bag away and shout at him for being an irresponsible, immature idiot who refused to see the bigger picture and who didn't seem to care who got hurt as long as he got to be left in his little corner doing his precious cooking and never take the responsibility for anything ever!

Still. He was the King.

And the fear of overstepping her mark was deeply knitted in to her bones.

Lily stood, staring at the bed, emotions raging inside her head, chest and behind her eyes and she was immobilised by their conflict. The frustration began to leak out of her eyes and perhaps it was the sheer radiance of Sadness that the King emitted or just a fact that she'd reached her breaking point but eventually Lily broke out in a sob, which was quickly followed by another.

She knelt down on the cluttered floor, crossed her arms on to the side of the bed and hid her face. Her shoulders shook as it all began coming out in tears and sobs.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Edmund!"

For those of you in the mall, Aelas is actually taken aback by how curt Edmund sounds and slightly flinches away from her phone. But then again, none of you may even be watching and she runs over that moment of hesitation like a steamroller, blink and you missed it.

"Get down to the mall, quick! Isaac challenged one of the Huntsman to a game of magic basketball and he wants you and ME on his team. I wanna play magic basketball, it sounds super fun, but also the Huntsman says he's gonna cheat, like, a lot, and we need you so we don't all get dragged into the hedge and back to Faerie, hurrrrry!!!"

There's a long, long pause on the other end of the line as Edmund processed the word salad that'd been dumped in his lap. Followed by a barely-muffled sigh.

"Cool! Great! Magic basketball with the Huntsmen. No better way to spend an afternoon. Can't wait. So excited."

He rested his face on his palm. He hadn't decided yet when he'd stop.

"Why are we playing magic basketball with the Hunstmen?"

[stveje]

[Fine for the glamour]

Despite the steadiness of the unblinking red glow in that crocodile skull you detect flickers in the light. Jack regrets being alone. He does not have any friends and that is something his valentines-day-card heart craves. He tries but all his attempts end in blood and bone. Perhaps he is like you, shorn of all of your understanding.

"Does it like the fish?" asked Jack brightly, abruptly speaking again. "These are neighbours. River fish, swamp fish, silver-of-mud. Will you eat them?"

"Perhaps," not-Jack said, and then added something that was either the best or the worst idea, "we can eat them together."

Great idea, not-Jack. Let's invite the murderous monster to dinner. What could possibly go wrong?

But he's lonely ...

Yeah, because he kills all his "friends".

Maybe he doesn't have to.

Well, I hope at least you're not going to suggest he do the cooking.

Of course not.

Do you even know how to cook?

I'm sure I can wing it.

[Anarion]

There's a long, long pause on the other end of the line as Edmund processed the word salad that'd been dumped in his lap. Followed by a barely-muffled sigh.

"Cool! Great! Magic basketball with the Huntsmen. No better way to spend an afternoon. Can't wait. So excited."

He rested his face on his palm. He hadn't decided yet when he'd stop.

"Why are we playing magic basketball with the Hunstmen?"

*Dramatic stage whisper* Because the goblin dude borrowed a bazooka, like, a real one!

[TheAmishPirate]

*Dramatic stage whisper* Because the goblin dude borrowed a bazooka, like, a real one!

Another pause. Another sigh. This one, a tasteful cocktail of longsuffering groan, helpless exhalation, and just a smidge of endless torment of the soul.

"Sure. Alright. That all adds up. Why'd I even have to ask?"

He wiped his hand down his face.

"Where's Isaac? Is he still around?"

[Thanqol]

Pilgrim - you have your team. Tell us a bit about the Ritual and how you go about teaching your team the rules. You have a few hours to practice before the stars are ready.

She knelt down on the cluttered floor, crossed her arms on to the side of the bed and hid her face. Her shoulders shook as it all began coming out in tears and sobs.

When Lily begins crying, King Kent doesn't comfort or reassure her - he just starts crying too. The two of them sit together in his room as the temperature spins lower and frost forms on the windows.

"Perhaps," not-Jack said, and then added something that was either the best or the worst idea, "we can eat them together."

The grinning skull's expression couldn't change but the red lights in its eyes seemed to glow brighter. Immediately Jack began grabbing fish and stuffing them into the damp and muddy pockets of its coat, and in the rummaging process fistfuls of coins and small bones spilled all over the counter. The strange magic that shielded its true form from the people around it caused the cashier to dutifully pick up the coins and bones and tally them into the register without the faintest sign anything unusual was happening.

Jack then proceeded to add some ice cubes into his pockets in an earnest but somewhat misguided attempt to preserve his purchases.

"Enthusiastic accepting of offer with ominous foreshadowing, yes," said Jack. "Will black goat and paint bucket and lawbreakerman all be eating alongside? Only so many pockets."

[Elanorin]

When Lily begins crying, King Kent doesn't comfort or reassure her - he just starts crying too. The two of them sit together in his room as the temperature spins lower and frost forms on the windows.

Lily isn't immediately aware of the echo of sobs coming from under the covers. For a long while she is too lost in her own to even remember there's anyone else in there. The rapidly cooling air doesn't help, to her it's only more comfortable and only fuels her descent in to despair. But as her eyes start to ache and tears begin to dry, her painful throat becoming more reluctant to allow sobs to pass, she hears him.

There is a thin veil of frost in the room, it's grown closer than just the windows and there's even snowflakes in her hair when she finally pushes herself to look up from the now wet tearstained patch on the mattress. She looks at the hump under the covers and while pity is quick to rise the indignant feeling that simmers up is faster.

She reached out a hand, grabbed a handful of his covers and yanked to rip them off him. To this day he hadn't faced her. She was as frightened as she was curious what he might do but she could take this no longer. Here, at the tail end of a flood of tears, she was still wrapped in the icy soft security of feeling that nothing could go more wrong.

So what the hell, right?

[Raz_Fox]

The Ritual is something like basketball. If it is to be done properly, the hoops themselves will be replaced with burning trash cans; one does not so much score by tossing the ball in as by leaping in while the ball is still within one's possession. No-holds-barred contact rules. To be done properly, we will need the services of goblin medics at either side, their services to be paid for after the game.

Back there, you couldn't die no matter what. You weren't allowed to.

...you might die here, though.

"The star alights- here." A mark is made on the court. "Seize it in pain." Will they light the ball on fire? Or coat it in ice? Either would be appropriate, though neither comes close to touching a star with your bare hands. There is a reason his hands are the gnarled, leathery things they are. And he deserved it. He deserved it all. That's the point. "Strike down the foe. Hesitate not. Yield not." The recital is coming from some deep place within the Pilgrim, and this is, perhaps, more about his Durance than the assembled here have ever heard. "Cast thyself into fire. The star and the fire and the rose are one. The thorn is the flame is the scourging of sin."

He's not stopping, not looking at Aelas, small fragile Aelas. He's not letting himself stop to think. You can't stop to think. If you stop and tend to someone's hurt, you lose. The goblins are there for that. That is what they do. That is their function.

"Loss belongs to dead fire." Extinguish it through the star's cold, and victory is yours.

And if Longarms tries to bring a fire extinguisher, the Pilgrim is within his rights to shove it down his throat. Like, fire extinguishers aren't in the rules, but neither is "extreme violence" a disqualifier. Again, a relic of no one being allowed to die. No matter how much you might want to. No matter how many bones need to be set.

No weapons, though.

No one brings a weapon onto the field, under the stars.

And everyone's totally going to be okay with this, because being inured to Fire and Ice Flagellant Basketball is a normal thing, right?

[Anarion]

And everyone's totally going to be okay with this, because being inured to Fire and Ice Flagellant Basketball is a normal thing, right?

Just understand that Aelas is positively exuberant. She's trying to hold some of it in because she can tell this is hard for you and she's worried about Longarms, but none of that compares to how much FUN this sounds. She's flashing all gold and silver all over. This is the awesome part of Faerie, the part she went in for in the first place, the part that kept her from running back sooner.

[TheAmishPirate]

The Ritual is something like basketball. If it is to be done properly, the hoops themselves will be replaced with burning trash cans; one does not so much score by tossing the ball in as by leaping in while the ball is still within one's possession. No-holds-barred contact rules. To be done properly, we will need the services of goblin medics at either side, their services to be paid for after the game.

Back there, you couldn't die no matter what. You weren't allowed to.

...you might die here, though.

"The star alights- here." A mark is made on the court. "Seize it in pain." Will they light the ball on fire? Or coat it in ice? Either would be appropriate, though neither comes close to touching a star with your bare hands. There is a reason his hands are the gnarled, leathery things they are. And he deserved it. He deserved it all. That's the point. "Strike down the foe. Hesitate not. Yield not." The recital is coming from some deep place within the Pilgrim, and this is, perhaps, more about his Durance than the assembled here have ever heard. "Cast thyself into fire. The star and the fire and the rose are one. The thorn is the flame is the scourging of sin."

He's not stopping, not looking at Aelas, small fragile Aelas. He's not letting himself stop to think. You can't stop to think. If you stop and tend to someone's hurt, you lose. The goblins are there for that. That is what they do. That is their function.

"Loss belongs to dead fire." Extinguish it through the star's cold, and victory is yours.

And if Longarms tries to bring a fire extinguisher, the Pilgrim is within his rights to shove it down his throat. Like, fire extinguishers aren't in the rules, but neither is "extreme violence" a disqualifier. Again, a relic of no one being allowed to die. No matter how much you might want to. No matter how many bones need to be set.

No weapons, though.

No one brings a weapon onto the field, under the stars.

And everyone's totally going to be okay with this, because being inured to Fire and Ice Flagellant Basketball is a normal thing, right?

"That," said Edmund flatly. "Is not how you play basketball."

[Raz_Fox]

"It's... not." It's not basketball. There are vague similarities, but that's like saying taking communion is equivalent to breaking open a Snackables and taking a swig of wine. Just because we're doing this on a basketball court, with a basketball that will either be frozen or on fire, and dunking it into burning trash cans, doesn't mean that we'll be playing basketball, magic or otherwise. And some adorable someone has been spreading deliberate misinformation on this subject.

[stveje]

The grinning skull's expression couldn't change but the red lights in its eyes seemed to glow brighter. Immediately Jack began grabbing fish and stuffing them into the damp and muddy pockets of its coat, and in the rummaging process fistfuls of coins and small bones spilled all over the counter. The strange magic that shielded its true form from the people around it caused the cashier to dutifully pick up the coins and bones and tally them into the register without the faintest sign anything unusual was happening.

Jack then proceeded to add some ice cubes into his pockets in an earnest but somewhat misguided attempt to preserve his purchases.

"Enthusiastic accepting of offer with ominous foreshadowing, yes," said Jack. "Will black goat and paint bucket and lawbreakerman all be eating alongside? Only so many pockets."

"No lawbreakerman," not-Jack felt safe in saying. "What of ... the girl on TV?"

[Thanqol]

The evening chill begins to seep in. The sky is clear of clouds. The court is lit by spotlights and the stands fill with crowds. Human and goblin and stranger yet, talking and fighting and robbing each other. The lines of the court and the mask make you the defending team that the humans of Prosperpine are cheering for, and the ugly handsome Longarms the arrogant visiting superstar. He's got this grin on his face, a dumb confident look, like he's thought of a way to rig the game that goes beyond mere cheating.

And immediately you see it. You see it and you realize the difference between Longarms and the rest of goblin kind. While a goblin might just swindle you and consider himself clever, Longarms is the King of Goblins and his cheating is befitting of royalty.

The stars are alight.

They glow. The line runs between them. A star of stars forms in the sky, and the heavens open. An enormous pair of hands descends through the gap, and a blindfolded face, and a frown that curls from the scent of your sin. The Judge Transcendent looms in the sky. He is here. Now.

And why shouldn't he be? Was there ever any law or wall that stopped him from coming across whenever he so pleased? Did he not come by and snatch each of you up in the first place? Any illusion that you were safe just because you'd come back to the human world, that he could not simply follow you back here himself should the whim strike him, falls away. Longarms has played the ultimate trick on the three of you - he has gathered all three lost prisoners of the Judge Transcendent into one place and convinced them to take the forms of the Judge's holy ritual, summoning him. And even if you triumph in the ritual only one of the three shall walk free.

"Herald," says the Judge, speaking to Aelas. She is the only one he addresses for it is her duty to carry his words to the worlds beyond. His voice is familiar as the wind and falling into the role of Herald is natural as singing. "Announce to your peers that the ritual will begin imminently. Each of you has sinned profoundly and this will be taken into account when calculating your sentences, but, of course, freedom awaits as always in the fire."

[Welcome to Clarityville, population: you.

You're all tilting majorly - you've all been tricked into directly re-enacting scenes from your Durance in the leadup to direct contact with your Keeper. As a result you're all to be rolling seven dice on a Clarity check]

Lily isn't immediately aware of the echo of sobs coming from under the covers. For a long while she is too lost in her own to even remember there's anyone else in there. The rapidly cooling air doesn't help, to her it's only more comfortable and only fuels her descent in to despair. But as her eyes start to ache and tears begin to dry, her painful throat becoming more reluctant to allow sobs to pass, she hears him.

There is a thin veil of frost in the room, it's grown closer than just the windows and there's even snowflakes in her hair when she finally pushes herself to look up from the now wet tearstained patch on the mattress. She looks at the hump under the covers and while pity is quick to rise the indignant feeling that simmers up is faster.

She reached out a hand, grabbed a handful of his covers and yanked to rip them off him. To this day he hadn't faced her. She was as frightened as she was curious what he might do but she could take this no longer. Here, at the tail end of a flood of tears, she was still wrapped in the icy soft security of feeling that nothing could go more wrong.

So what the hell, right?

Bones, slender and graceful and aquatic. Like the skeleton of a man and a shark and an albatross flowing together, hollow and rattling and smoothed by the surf, wrapped with a rumpled t-shirt and unwashed hair. He's light - even though he's tall his bones feel as weightless as a bird's.

He flops out onto the floor, disoriented but unable to summon the effort to right himself. He's a crumpled heap, just as he's always been.

"No lawbreakerman," not-Jack felt safe in saying. "What of ... the girl on TV?"

"Oh yes, also undigested neighbourguest bait friend," said Jack brightly. "Lawbreakerman said not to eat the bait until he does the trick on the black goat and hit me until I agreed. But he didn't say anything about sharing. You want to eat the bait?"

[Raz_Fox]

Of course

The benches are rimmed in cold bluewhite light, and the wind that issues out of the tumultuous sky is hot

He was taken once, so why shouldn't he be again

you played the game for freedom that was the deal scoured red as a newborn lamb and pure, raw, skinned

the words the sage replied: of course, for how else could I have met you fill with fire, a cold bluewhite, on his neck, burned too deep to heal

when he stomps on the court, as is tradition, the stone splinters under his claws

the wind that raises cinders from his burned hair is hot, hot as the fires lit, and he cannot feel his finger's tips from the cold

only one goes free, and as always, as ever, as it should be, it will not be him

where is zotzie, why aren't they

they promised, they

the bluewhites of his eyes flare and lick at his sockets, and how could any of you have ever thought, ever thought, he was human again

and the greatest of these is chastisement

Game on.

[Elanorin]

Bones, slender and graceful and aquatic. Like the skeleton of a man and a shark and an albatross flowing together, hollow and rattling and smoothed by the surf, wrapped with a rumpled t-shirt and unwashed hair. He's light - even though he's tall his bones feel as weightless as a bird's.

He flops out onto the floor, disoriented but unable to summon the effort to right himself. He's a crumpled heap, just as he's always been.

Lily watches him, he was nothing like she had imagined him to be. She wasn't sure exactly what she had expected, perhaps a surly teenager in pizza-stained pyjamas, an all-black goth with more piercings than teeth, but it wasn't this.

She scooched over to him and started to help him right himself even if she wasn't exactly pulling him off the floor. She was on the floor herself and her efforts amounted to little more than to gather him up in her arms. She was a little scared to handle him too roughly, he felt fragile, as if his body was a manifestation of a brittle mind.

"For whom do you cry?" she asked.