[Changeling IC] Time's Wings: Dark Omens

[TheAmishPirate]

[Harvest Roll: Presence + Empathy = 4 dice, 9-again from Professional Training. 3, 4, 5, 8 = 1 success. A close thing.]

Jack the Former slips inside and finds a place to stand where he's not in the way. Seeing everyone there is a relief. "What's going on?" he asks.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m opening a restaurant.” Edmund answered, still hard at work behind the bar. Oh he’d tried slipping away once the rush ended, but that betrayed a crucial misunderstanding of Gustav’s capacity for preposterous falsehoods. The whole town’d be paying him a visit at this rate.

“Come on, out with it; what do you want...” His frown deepened. “Huh, I’m blanking on your name.” The chef stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his attentions from the thousand and one tasks before him, and brought them to bear on Jack the Former with all the terrible purpose of a battleship leveling a broadside. He rested both arms on the counter, and the impact reverberated through earth and bone.

“Why can’t I remember your name?” he asked, voice cold as steel.

[Thanqol]

Longarms and Mercia made their slow way out of the Market and towards an out of the way faerie glade. It was a bit of an extra walk but it was broad daylight and they had been made by the Courts so it was worth being a little careful here.

Longarms walked with the grumpy certainty of someone bearing a good idea that had been insufficiently praised.

It takes the Pilgrim a little bit of quiet listening to come to his own conclusions vis-a-vis brass bands. Generally speaking, tubas were in short supply in the wilderness. Whining, droning flutes leading the unwary to destruction; lutes that joyously screamed out their pain; goblin vuvuzelas and rattle-boxes making an incoherent chaos of the stands; bombastic, howling horns sounded beneath the cold eyes of the stars to herald their descending judgment.

“Power is fearful,” he says, finally. “Strength is slow. Deep. These horns are strong.”

The irony of the Pilgrim suggesting subtle restraint and menace through music while dressed as loudly as a Backstreet Boys reunion concert is palpable.

There's a moment after you speak when everyone turns to look at you and sees you clearly and properly. There's a pause born of surprise - and then a ripple of surprised laughter. It's a well timed thing, because the argument was starting to become somewhat acrimonious - the minority opinion is that the Court should focus on ominous chants a la Hellfire from the Hunchback and they were increasingly unwilling to back down.

Fear, surprise and comedy are all aspects of the same coin. For the moment the tension is behind them.

Lily walked a little, but did not stray far from Isaac, she was a guest here and did not want to accidentally offend so she listened to the music, enjoyed the garden and tried to not seem to be staring too much.

Finally she stepped back to Isaac's side and took his arm like before and leaned a little closer, "Ms Waystone?" she asked him quietly, while it was true that she did not want to disturb anyone her main reason for discretion was a feeling she had picked up while at Mrs Height: the leader of this court did not like to stand out. She perhaps didn't want to be known at all. The display of anonymous unity that the Autumn court seemed to be practising with such devotion supported it.

Lily, your decision to like the Autumn Court is thrown a bit into turbulence when they all rotate their heads at the exact same moment, look directly at you, and then all laugh in unison.

It's insanely creepy.

To continue the creepiness, when one of them speaks all of the others echo their words half a second behind, giving it an unsetting reverb. It's not that they're being threatening with it, it's that it seems more like a habit that they're all into. Pilgrim, you can hear the words a moment before they come through that same whisper-magic, so if you want to join in the spooky unity thing then you're welcome to.

"Yes, I am Ms. Waystone," they all say, almost breezily. "How can I help you?"

[Anarion]

I imagine that’s about the time that Aelas arrives with Static. “Woah, a VR lounge?” She looks around in wonder, then puts a finger to her lips in thought. “Are you sure? This is supposed to be Edmund’s place, and if he learned to have fun in, like, the last two days, it’s probably because he sold his soul on the market or something.” Aelas giggles, but it’s not obvious whether she’s kidding or not.

“Hey, Edmund, where’s the VR lounge?!” She shouts to him over the general din.

[stveje]

Apparently everyone weren't here ... weird, he could have sworn just a second ago ... Oh, but there's Aelas, at least.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m opening a restaurant.” Edmund answered, still hard at work behind the bar. Oh he’d tried slipping away once the rush ended, but that betrayed a crucial misunderstanding of Gustav’s capacity for preposterous falsehoods. The whole town’d be paying him a visit at this rate.

“Come on, out with it; what do you want...” His frown deepened. “Huh, I’m blanking on your name.” The chef stopped dead in his tracks. He turned his attentions from the thousand and one tasks before him, and brought them to bear on Jack the Former with all the terrible purpose of a battleship leveling a broadside. He rested both arms on the counter, and the impact reverberated through earth and bone.

“Why can’t I remember your name?” he asked, voice cold as steel.

"A goblin gave me his watch for it," not-Jack says, trying for a hint of self-deprecating humor, but it's probably not really working. At least not-Jack himself isn't laughing much, but it still feels better to joke at it than to really dwell on it.

His mind is occupied by looking at all the people other than Edmund. Someone here must be sad and in need of him ... also, looking at Edmund is a bit intimidating under the circumstances. "Then a pair of Huntsmen bought it from the goblin. I assume. But what's in a name, really," he continues, quoting the great bard himself. Romeo and Juliet ... or Jack and Veronica? Maybe he should have just drunk poison and laid down beside her in that bog instead of bringing her roses. Maybe all this was his punishment for selfishly staying alive instead of going with her to whatever paradise awaited angels like his Veronica. Maybe that's why Hell took him instead. "You know my face."

[TheAmishPirate]

"A goblin gave me his watch for it," not-Jack says, trying for a hint of self-deprecating humor, but it's probably not really working. At least not-Jack himself isn't laughing much, but it still feels better to joke at it than to really dwell on it.

His mind is occupied by looking at all the people other than Edmund. Someone here must be sad and in need of him ... also, looking at Edmund is a bit intimidating under the circumstances. "Then a pair of Huntsmen bought it from the goblin. I assume. But what's in a name, really," he continues, quoting the great bard himself. Romeo and Juliet ... or Jack and Veronica? Maybe he should have just drunk poison and laid down beside her in that bog instead of bringing her roses. Maybe all this was his punishment for selfishly staying alive instead of going with her to whatever paradise awaited angels like his Veronica. Maybe that's why Hell took him instead. "You know my face."

I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it

The Hunstmen were here. On opening day. Huntsmen. Here. They were coming for him. He'd been allowed his little diversions but it was time to go. Go. Go...bac...the thoughts wouldn't come together. Before-now was a horrible blur of never-again. Not real. And if it wasn't real, then it wasn't a real place he could ever be.

Only there were Huntsmen. Huntsmen here. For him. "They know your face." He ground out. "And you brought it here."

They were coming to take him away, to continue the story...

“Hey, Edmund, where’s the VR lounge?!” She shouts to him over the general din.

...or else he would have to fight them off, save the town, and continue the story.

There was plenty he wanted to feel. Angry. Scared. Frustrated. Miserable. But he'd had a dozen lifetimes where he'd lost all choice in feeling; maybe it was too late to learn again. Right now, facing down the barrel of his most anticipated fears, he just. Felt. Tired.

He stood up from the bar, and began a slow march towards Aelas. "Nope. No VR lounge here." He shrugged. "But we do have the next best thing, today only, opening-day special for a lucky few; storytime!"

"Starting with the story of 'Why You Can't Remember This Guy's Name.'" He set himself behind not-Jack, stopping just short of physically grabbing his shoulders. (Some lines are too deep to overstep.) "Go on; start from the top."

[Elanorin]

Lily, your decision to like the Autumn Court is thrown a bit into turbulence when they all rotate their heads at the exact same moment, look directly at you, and then all laugh in unison.

It's insanely creepy.

To continue the creepiness, when one of them speaks all of the others echo their words half a second behind, giving it an unsetting reverb. It's not that they're being threatening with it, it's that it seems more like a habit that they're all into. Pilgrim, you can hear the words a moment before they come through that same whisper-magic, so if you want to join in the spooky unity thing then you're welcome to.

"Yes, I am Ms. Waystone," they all say, almost breezily. "How can I help you?"

What the actual- no. No. No, this was fine. This is their Thing. It's okay. I can work with this.

Lily missed a beat, but only one before restoring her composure, "It's an honour, Your Grace," she said with a polite bow. This was one of those many times when a habit to avoid eye contact was a great asset. No need to awkward search for whose eyes to seek and who to speak to. "I'm Lily, I'm afraid I did not have a chance to introduce myself last night. I have been tasked with aiding and facilitating the investigations ordered last night in search of a traitor among us. Would you be so kind as to share your progress so far?"

[Anarion]

"Starting with the story of 'Why You Can't Remember This Guy's Name.'" He set himself behind not-Jack, stopping just short of physically grabbing his shoulders. (Some lines are too deep to overstep.) "Go on; start from the top."

"See! I told you he wouldn't have a VR lounge. Edmund wouldn't know fun if it hit him, trust me, I've tried." Aelas sticks out her tongue playfully at you as her hair shimmers to a taunting red-orange, then takes in what you just said. "What are you talking about, we all know that's...uh...that guy we know...named...uh...um...OH MY GOD WHY DON'T WE KNOW YOUR NAME?????"

[stveje]

He stood up from the bar, and began a slow march towards Aelas. "Nope. No VR lounge here." He shrugged. "But we do have the next best thing, today only, opening-day special for a lucky few; storytime!"

"Starting with the story of 'Why You Can't Remember This Guy's Name.'" He set himself behind not-Jack, stopping just short of physically grabbing his shoulders. (Some lines are too deep to overstep.) "Go on; start from the top."

"See! I told you he wouldn't have a VR lounge. Edmund wouldn't know fun if it hit him, trust me, I've tried." Aelas sticks out her tongue playfully at you as her hair shimmers to a taunting red-orange, then takes in what you just said. "What are you talking about, we all know that's...uh...that guy we know...named...uh...um...OH MY GOD WHY DON'T WE KNOW YOUR NAME?????"

"Maybe I should have gotten a t-shirt," not-Jack says and points at his chest as if showing the writing, " 'I Sold my Name to the Goblin' ". Then he indicates his back in the same way. " 'Then a Hunstman bought it, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.' Would save me some time."

[Raz_Fox]

Our Pilgrim, he doesn't do the talking so much. You know this. Autumn knows this, like as not. But having words echoing in your own head where your thoughts should be can do tricky things to a person, especially when they're used to grand pronouncements and lofty speech and the proper reactions to such things.

So, Lily? I doubt you'll miss the fact that the Pilgrim is breathing in time to the words. When they speak, he huffs out, the modulation of the breath such that it's almost- almost- the words that echo all around, underscored by that deep bestial bellows-pump of his smoke-scored lungs. And he places his hand upon your shoulder, gentle-like, but still possessive.

We know he means to reassure you, but it's still a nonverbal gesture, and if you think words are tricky to puzzle out sometimes, just you wait until a hand the size of a plate and the general consistency of scorched earth envelops your shoulder while a low, guttural exhalation tickles your ears, while also staring down a dozen pairs of eyes all intent on giving none of the game away.

[Thanqol]

"Not having a car suuuuuuucks," groaned Longarms.
"I don't mind," said Mercia.
"I'm the King of the Goblins!" said Longarms. "I should have a chariot drawn by ugly pug dogs the size of horses! I hate this place!"
"That's why I grabbed at that contract," said Mercia.
"Your grabbing needs work," grumbled Longarms.

What the actual- no. No. No, this was fine. This is their Thing. It's okay. I can work with this.

Lily missed a beat, but only one before restoring her composure, "It's an honour, Your Grace," she said with a polite bow. This was one of those many times when a habit to avoid eye contact was a great asset. No need to awkward search for whose eyes to seek and who to speak to. "I'm Lily, I'm afraid I did not have a chance to introduce myself last night. I have been tasked with aiding and facilitating the investigations ordered last night in search of a traitor among us. Would you be so kind as to share your progress so far?"

"Betrayal is not the deficiency of a single soul," said Autumn, voices dark and roiling. "It is the manifestation of a broken and corrupt community, one over-ripe and festering. Harvest time comes, and come the Equinox the Gloaming Lord will accept our sacrifices and reveal to us what we must do."

Silence.

"But we are beyond reproach. The guilt lies within Summer. They cannot acknowledge it."

Our Pilgrim, he doesn't do the talking so much. You know this. Autumn knows this, like as not. But having words echoing in your own head where your thoughts should be can do tricky things to a person, especially when they're used to grand pronouncements and lofty speech and the proper reactions to such things.

So, Lily? I doubt you'll miss the fact that the Pilgrim is breathing in time to the words. When they speak, he huffs out, the modulation of the breath such that it's almost- almost- the words that echo all around, underscored by that deep bestial bellows-pump of his smoke-scored lungs. And he places his hand upon your shoulder, gentle-like, but still possessive.

We know he means to reassure you, but it's still a nonverbal gesture, and if you think words are tricky to puzzle out sometimes, just you wait until a hand the size of a plate and the general consistency of scorched earth envelops your shoulder while a low, guttural exhalation tickles your ears, while also staring down a dozen pairs of eyes all intent on giving none of the game away.

You are brought into Autumn's confidence - why should you not be? Their plan is to sacrifice the defiant King of Summer upon the Equinox that their depthless patron might drag every secret into the bloody light on their behalf. You shall keep this confidence and help them hold down his limbs while the knife is raised. This is the payment for the debt you owe them. You will know the moment.

[Elanorin]

Our Pilgrim, he doesn't do the talking so much. You know this. Autumn knows this, like as not. But having words echoing in your own head where your thoughts should be can do tricky things to a person, especially when they're used to grand pronouncements and lofty speech and the proper reactions to such things.

So, Lily? I doubt you'll miss the fact that the Pilgrim is breathing in time to the words. When they speak, he huffs out, the modulation of the breath such that it's almost- almost- the words that echo all around, underscored by that deep bestial bellows-pump of his smoke-scored lungs. And he places his hand upon your shoulder, gentle-like, but still possessive.

We know he means to reassure you, but it's still a nonverbal gesture, and if you think words are tricky to puzzle out sometimes, just you wait until a hand the size of a plate and the general consistency of scorched earth envelops your shoulder while a low, guttural exhalation tickles your ears, while also staring down a dozen pairs of eyes all intent on giving none of the game away.

"Betrayal is not the deficiency of a single soul," said Autumn, voices dark and roiling. "It is the manifestation of a broken and corrupt community, one over-ripe and festering. Harvest time comes, and come the Equinox the Gloaming Lord will accept our sacrifices and reveal to us what we must do."

Silence.

"But we are beyond reproach. The guilt lies within Summer. They cannot acknowledge it."

"I-I see," Lily said, a little uncertainly. Not only did she not entirely understand what the court was saying but she was more than a little taken off guard by the huge possessive hand on her shoulder. She had to take a moment to mentally silence the alarm bells that had gone off at the touch.

Now that she took a moment to clear her head it occurred to her that Autumn may, if not entirely then at least in part, be referring to a betrayal in the sense of Summer not relinquishing the throne. She couldn't exactly blame them.

"The traitor I am searching for is the one, or ones, who aided the disappearance of Mr Breton's son," she clarified. "If you have a name, in Summer, or elsewhere, then I will certainly ensure they investigate it. If you can give evidence of your complete court's innocence in this I can quickly leave you be... to practice your... music."

[TheAmishPirate]

"Maybe I should have gotten a t-shirt," not-Jack says and points at his chest as if showing the writing, " 'I Sold my Name to the Goblin' ". Then he indicates his back in the same way. " 'Then a Hunstman bought it, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.' Would save me some time."

"Man," Edmund said. "You are the worst at stories. You completely skipped "Who the Hunstmen Want", "Are They Still On My Tail", and - my favorite part - "Why the Hell Did You Come Here?" He shook his head disapprovingly.

Shame.

[stveje]

"Man," Edmund said. "You are the worst at stories. You completely skipped "Who the Hunstmen Want", "Are They Still On My Tail", and - my favorite part - "Why the Hell Did You Come Here?" He shook his head disapprovingly.

Shame.

not-Jack sighs before launching into the long version. "The Pilgrim and I were at the Market, getting the contract for the town, when one of them approached us. She introduced herself as Mercia, the Knight of Flowers and offered the Pilgrim a deal for the contract. He refused, and as he fled I managed to get her to declare her hunt against me instead of him, by making her think I'd grabbed the contract. I think the Pilgrim got away, at least she didn't declare a hunt against him. Then I gave her the slip, and while I was hiding I saw her with another Huntsman, male, didn't catch his name. They were discussing whether to buy my name now that it was on the market. I assume they did.

"There was no mention of you, by name or implication. I assume if they haven't declared a hunt against you to your face, they aren't after you specifically. Yet. They were obviously following the Pilgrim and myself, at the time.

"Then I came here because it reeked of sadness, and it seemed like the most obvious place to meet up. They weren't following me at that point, so if they come here, they would have come here anyway. But now you know they're out there, so maybe thank me a bit."

[Anarion]

“They’ve been around town. The uh, the huntsman. Second one was like a cop guy with a big bag of tricks, right? They’ve already been here a little while I think. So, y’know, just be ready, they’ll come sometime anyway.” Aelas gives a little shiver, thinking if how her fetch had freaked out. Nothing quite felt safe.

“I’ll take a tea, Edmund. Hot, with lots of sugar. And whatever Static wants to drink put it on my tab too. And uh, you gonna tell us why everyone in town thinks this place has, like, fun stuff in it?”

[Thanqol]

"O-ver the hills and far-a-whey!" sang Longarms as he walked. His tune was offset by the fact that he remembered the word to come only halfway through singing the previous word (and sometimes later, either mid-way through the word he was singing or days from now). "Down by the swamps a-tol-ra-ray! Then did the son - the Judge came down the hill and gathered the slaves! And he brought them o-ver the hills and far-a-whey! Give me some beats, Mercia!"

Mercia diligently put her hands over her mouth and began to lay down a steady beatbox backing for Longarm's exuberant singing. She didn't mistake his singing as good by any imagining, but just because she lacked a heart didn't mean that she was so miserable to deny another faerie in song. Only humans were that joyless.

"Ow! Longest of the arms coming down the road!
Seeing the town ahead bending to my flow!
Fight against the Grabber they'll say it was throw'd
And you'd be right to throw it because we'll make a killing rigging the betting market, trust me, it'll be great."

Boom-chk. Boom-boom-chk. So two the Huntsmen made their way down the hill and towards the lake.

"I-I see," Lily said, a little uncertainly. Not only did she not entirely understand what the court was saying but she was more than a little taken off guard by the huge possessive hand on her shoulder. She had to take a moment to mentally silence the alarm bells that had gone off at the touch.

Now that she took a moment to clear her head it occurred to her that Autumn may, if not entirely then at least in part, be referring to a betrayal in the sense of Summer not relinquishing the throne. She couldn't exactly blame them.

"The traitor I am searching for is the one, or ones, who aided the disappearance of Mr Breton's son," she clarified. "If you have a name, in Summer, or elsewhere, then I will certainly ensure they investigate it. If you can give evidence of your complete court's innocence in this I can quickly leave you be... to practice your... music."

Autumn descends into murmuring - there's an internal discussion going on about how much to share with you. There are a couple of really big requests there - you want them to prove a negative, and you are giving them a chance to point a finger.

You might be able to steer this discussion a bit, though. Roll Manipulation+Socialize to try and get in on this discussion. Negative eight base, but it's reduced to only negative four if you can convince Pilgrim to actively engage in the conversation on your behalf.

“They’ve been around town. The uh, the huntsman. Second one was like a cop guy with a big bag of tricks, right? They’ve already been here a little while I think. So, y’know, just be ready, they’ll come sometime anyway.” Aelas gives a little shiver, thinking if how her fetch had freaked out. Nothing quite felt safe.

“I’ll take a tea, Edmund. Hot, with lots of sugar. And whatever Static wants to drink put it on my tab too. And uh, you gonna tell us why everyone in town thinks this place has, like, fun stuff in it?”

"Orange juice," said Static. "If Mercia is back then you are in trouble. She is relentless. And she wears iron armour."

[TheAmishPirate]

not-Jack sighs before launching into the long version. "The Pilgrim and I were at the Market, getting the contract for the town, when one of them approached us. She introduced herself as Mercia, the Knight of Flowers and offered the Pilgrim a deal for the contract. He refused, and as he fled I managed to get her to declare her hunt against me instead of him, by making her think I'd grabbed the contract. I think the Pilgrim got away, at least she didn't declare a hunt against him. Then I gave her the slip, and while I was hiding I saw her with another Huntsman, male, didn't catch his name. They were discussing whether to buy my name now that it was on the market. I assume they did.

"There was no mention of you, by name or implication. I assume if they haven't declared a hunt against you to your face, they aren't after you specifically. Yet. They were obviously following the Pilgrim and myself, at the time.

"Then I came here because it reeked of sadness, and it seemed like the most obvious place to meet up. They weren't following me at that point, so if they come here, they would have come here anyway. But now you know they're out there, so maybe thank me a bit."

That was enough to satisfy Edmund. Well, "satisfy" might be a strong word for it. He grunted in a mildly affirmative, non-aggressive fashion, and strode back to the bar, eyes staring out into the middle distance.

“They’ve been around town. The uh, the huntsman. Second one was like a cop guy with a big bag of tricks, right? They’ve already been here a little while I think. So, y’know, just be ready, they’ll come sometime anyway.” Aelas gives a little shiver, thinking if how her fetch had freaked out. Nothing quite felt safe.

“I’ll take a tea, Edmund. Hot, with lots of sugar. And whatever Static wants to drink put it on my tab too. And uh, you gonna tell us why everyone in town thinks this place has, like, fun stuff in it?”

"Orange juice," said Static. "If Mercia is back then you are in trouble. She is relentless. And she wears iron armour."

He set the teapot going, poured Static some OJ, and considered his own choice. His hand hovered over the strong stuff but, no, no, too much too soon. He eventually settled on something dark he could savor, while still strong enough to land a punch in the gut.

Whatever it was, it was probably not meant to be served in a glass that big.

"My business partner," he explained without looking up from his pour. "Was in charge of the marketing, and took creative liberties. Every creative liberty. I don't think there's a one left for miles. There'll be a national shortage, I'll be framed for it, the feds'll come for me, and they'll save Mercia the trouble." He juggled the drinks to their respective owners, with a healthy dose of sugar in the tea on the way over. Which just left him and his glass. To sip and to stare into like a man on his last dime. "Iron armor. That's a hard trick." He mused in Static's direction. "She come by here before, then?"

[Thanqol]

He set the teapot going, poured Static some OJ, and considered his own choice. His hand hovered over the strong stuff but, no, no, too much too soon. He eventually settled on something dark he could savor, while still strong enough to land a punch in the gut.

Whatever it was, it was probably not meant to be served in a glass that big.

"My business partner," he explained without looking up from his pour. "Was in charge of the marketing, and took creative liberties. Every creative liberty. I don't think there's a one left for miles. There'll be a national shortage, I'll be framed for it, the feds'll come for me, and they'll save Mercia the trouble." He juggled the drinks to their respective owners, with a healthy dose of sugar in the tea on the way over. Which just left him and his glass. To sip and to stare into like a man on his last dime. "Iron armor. That's a hard trick." He mused in Static's direction. "She come by here before, then?"

"She'd be a resident if it wasn't for the bargain Autumn arranged to keep her out," said Static. When she speaks she tends to move her head so she's looking at you from the side with only one eye, like a suspicious magpie. "Cops work for her. Donates to the fun run. Pillar of the community."

[Anarion]

"She'd be a resident if it wasn't for the bargain Autumn arranged to keep her out," said Static. When she speaks she tends to move her head so she's looking at you from the side with only one eye, like a suspicious magpie. "Cops work for her. Donates to the fun run. Pillar of the community."

Aelas takes her tea gladly and sips it. She's pleased with the amount of sugar and sips it more greedily. First to Edmund: "Why don't you just, uh, do some of the stuff? I mean, like, a VR lounge would be super cool. Turn it into a reality, you know?" She rolls her eyes slightly, he probably won't.

Then to Static. "Wait, the knight is the one that's with the police? Isn't the other guy, like, actually a police officer though? What's his thing then?"

[Elanorin]

This was concerning. She felt like she was losing hold of the conversation by not being included at all. If she could only hear their concerns then maybe she could still win them over.

Just one court, just one court that was straightforward and easy to work with, was it so much to ask?

Lily placed her hand inside Isaac’s huge paw and her other on his arm with a featherlight touch to gently request his attention.

She dared a rare venture to try to meet his non-eyes and not to be alarmed by them.

”Can you hear them? Would you speak for me?” she asked under her breath.

[Thanqol]

Aelas takes her tea gladly and sips it. She's pleased with the amount of sugar and sips it more greedily. First to Edmund: "Why don't you just, uh, do some of the stuff? I mean, like, a VR lounge would be super cool. Turn it into a reality, you know?" She rolls her eyes slightly, he probably won't.

Then to Static. "Wait, the knight is the one that's with the police? Isn't the other guy, like, actually a police officer though? What's his thing then?"

"I don't know him," said Static. "He could be anything."

[Raz_Fox]

The Pilgrim looks down at Lily, and acknowledges that- yes, you are of my team. He is on two teams now: Autumn, and his circle. One side that has crowned him with a new god, one as alien as the far-off stars, that he is bound to by oath, and that he cannot entirely gainsay- and the other, which will not understand. No. That's a lie. One which will not accept. The road is winding, and it is not in the Pilgrim's nature to remove himself from the way forward, to dig in his heels and not dive into the undergrowth. Things will occur. The things that must happen will happen. (More lies, but subtler ones. We know this, we can shake and ask the Pilgrim to turn over a table and denounce these mad, raving cultists- but the reward of not thinking about something is sometimes seductively sweet.)

But Lily is his, too. She has placed herself underneath his guard, has passed the star to his waiting hands (metaphorically, of course; only Zotzie has done so literally, of his present companions). So he shall do right by her, too.

She is clever, he says. And it is true. I will not tell her. I will not stop her. Give her a monster.

[Elanorin]

The quiet nod from Isaac was more than enough. Her worries settled and she breathed a little easier. She stepped closer to him and nudged the two of them to come to stand within the subtle but significant circle the Autumn court had formed, to feel like she was part of them, that she was already invited, approved of, trusted.

"Autumn having no part in this will obviously mean no further energy spent on this matter. It will be an honour to conclude this investigation for your court on your behalf." Lily spoke softly, she did not whisper, she did not want to seem to mimic or mock them, but rather speak at a subtle tone to further underscore her affinity with them.

[Spending 1 pt Glamour to activate Will That Be All? Manipulate+Socialise: 1, 4, 8, 3, 7, 1, 7, 7
Rolling Manipulate+Socialise at -4 and +5 from Mantle of Autumn 5, spending 1 willpower for +3: 2, 5, 7, 6, 2, 5, 1, 3, 2, 10, 10, 10 (Ten again: 6, 2, 9)

Health: 7/7
Glamour: 4/10
Willpower: 3/5

[Thanqol]

The Huntsmen arrived at the desolate lake. Mercia picked out her borrowed mobile phone and started calling people - media, police. Longarms produced a roll of bright yellow police tape and began marking off an area. They worked without commentary to each other; they each knew what they were doing here.

*

Autumn not only comes about to the conclusion you desire, you also arrange things so that they think it was their ruler's idea. All you need to do is find moments where Ms. Waystone is struggling to articulate an idea and then quietly rephrase it just so and all she needs to do is nod. The line between you and her blends together over the course of the discussion.

And as it does so, the line between Winter and Autumn also blurs for you. The air becomes curiously warm - not warm, but warmer than the cold you have been surrounded with for so long. Breezy and ethereal fingers run their way absently and fussily through your hair, twisting and braiding like a grandmother who's having a conversation with someone else. At times you can overhear strange whispers of a conversation that is just too adult for you to fully grasp, but the thrust seems to be that people who you thought were perfect are actually in really deep trouble.

The words are teased out of the Court in the end.

They are certain that the leak comes from Spring. Privateer or loyalist, they darkly note that the only Spring courtiers who go missing - either to the Huntsmen or otherwise - are the ones who cross Mrs. Height. Despite taking absolutely no precautions and giving exactly zero thought to their own defence they go entirely unmolested by the servants of the Gentry. The primary impetuous behind them adopting this unitary façade, the Autumn court hints darkly, was to conceal themselves from the desolate spring sunshine.

[TheAmishPirate]

Aelas takes her tea gladly and sips it. She's pleased with the amount of sugar and sips it more greedily. First to Edmund: "Why don't you just, uh, do some of the stuff? I mean, like, a VR lounge would be super cool. Turn it into a reality, you know?" She rolls her eyes slightly, he probably won't.

Edmund blinked at her. “What is that, like, an arcade?”

"She'd be a resident if it wasn't for the bargain Autumn arranged to keep her out," said Static. When she speaks she tends to move her head so she's looking at you from the side with only one eye, like a suspicious magpie. "Cops work for her. Donates to the fun run. Pillar of the community."

Strange gargoyle he’d never seen before - Summer, he thought, by her look - tagging along with Aelas, looking at everything in the bar but the barkeep himself.

Yeah. Because that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Without being asked, he scooped up her glass and poured a refill. Kept an eye out to see if the mask slipped. “How’d she manage that with the bargain in place?”

[Anarion]

“Uh, yeah, it’s like an arcade, but with new stuff and, like, immersive 3D where you feel like you’re really in the game. I could toootally beta test it for you. Along with Static here. She’s my new friend!” Aelas beams appropriately.

[Elanorin]

Autumn not only comes about to the conclusion you desire, you also arrange things so that they think it was their ruler's idea. All you need to do is find moments where Ms. Waystone is struggling to articulate an idea and then quietly rephrase it just so and all she needs to do is nod. The line between you and her blends together over the course of the discussion.

And as it does so, the line between Winter and Autumn also blurs for you. The air becomes curiously warm - not warm, but warmer than the cold you have been surrounded with for so long. Breezy and ethereal fingers run their way absently and fussily through your hair, twisting and braiding like a grandmother who's having a conversation with someone else. At times you can overhear strange whispers of a conversation that is just too adult for you to fully grasp, but the thrust seems to be that people who you thought were perfect are actually in really deep trouble.

The words are teased out of the Court in the end.

They are certain that the leak comes from Spring. Privateer or loyalist, they darkly note that the only Spring courtiers who go missing - either to the Huntsmen or otherwise - are the ones who cross Mrs. Height. Despite taking absolutely no precautions and giving exactly zero thought to their own defence they go entirely unmolested by the servants of the Gentry. The primary impetuous behind them adopting this unitary façade, the Autumn court hints darkly, was to conceal themselves from the desolate spring sunshine.

It was almost hypnotic to be in the midst of all this, the hushed voices the sentences starting and ending in different places. But she had discerned Ms Waystone now and she knew her and felt assured in having got that far and the fact that they seemed willing to work with her was the biggest victory she'd had since returning.

She took her time, not rushing the discussion but allowing long silences and leaving Autumn to fill them with as much information as they would.

Lily decided to dare a little further and rephrased their words by way of ensuring she had understood them correctly but asked they kindly reminded her of the name of the Spring Courtier that had gone missing. "Or, forgive me, was he and Mr Breton's son one and the same?"

She couldn't imagine him allowing any child of his be anything but Summer but... in honesty she did not know anything about this son.

[Thanqol]

Longarms rummaged around in his magic bag until he found a live miniature pig. Whistling, he violently gutted it.

He waited for most of the blood to drain out into the lake, then carried it from the ominous reedbank to the car park, leaving a steady drip-drip trail of blood behind.

"They'll know that's not human blood," said Mercia.
"What?" asked Longarms. "How?"
"They have machines these days," said Mercia. "They can even tell who the blood belongs to."
"Oh," said Longarms. "Man! What an inconvenience."
"We should just go and kill a real person," said Mercia.
"Urgh, isn't the point of this to save time?" said Longarms. "Look, just break their blood machine when they start the investigation. Besides, if luck goes our way there'll be plenty of human blood around anyway."

Strange gargoyle he’d never seen before - Summer, he thought, by her look - tagging along with Aelas, looking at everything in the bar but the barkeep himself.

Yeah. Because that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Without being asked, he scooped up her glass and poured a refill. Kept an eye out to see if the mask slipped. “How’d she manage that with the bargain in place?”

"Multiple visits," said Static. "It'd be worse if she could live here."

She meets your gaze with an intimidating lack of fear. There's a tension in that stillness. A lot of people are inherently passive or uncomfortable with violence, but this girl isn't. She could break the cup in her hands, stab you in the throat with the shards and sleep well that night.

Lily decided to dare a little further and rephrased their words by way of ensuring she had understood them correctly but asked they kindly reminded her of the name of the Spring Courtier that had gone missing. "Or, forgive me, was he and Mr Breton's son one and the same?"

She couldn't imagine him allowing any child of his be anything but Summer but... in honesty she did not know anything about this son.

Which missing courtier do you refer to? murmured Autumn.

[TheAmishPirate]

“Uh, yeah, it’s like an arcade, but with new stuff and, like, immersive 3D where you feel like you’re really in the game. I could toootally beta test it for you."

Edmund poured the drinks. Brow furrowed. Eyes steady. Mouth frozen in a perpetual scowl, as he wrestled with deep matters beyond mortal ken.

Aelas, not-Jack, as his good friends, if you look hard enough you can see the thin wisps of smoke escaping out his ears as he tries - and fails - to comprehend any of that.

"Along with Static here. She’s my new friend!” Aelas beams appropriately.

"Multiple visits," said Static. "It'd be worse if she could live here."

She meets your gaze with an intimidating lack of fear. There's a tension in that stillness. A lot of people are inherently passive or uncomfortable with violence, but this girl isn't. She could break the cup in her hands, stab you in the throat with the shards and sleep well that night.

To call Edmund's gaze fearless is to miss his true nature. There may be fear. There may be anger. There may be worry, weariness, sorrow, hunger, but you will not find them here. He has decided that there will be nothing upon his face, simply because he wants nothing on his face, and it is so.

There may come a time when he decides otherwise. And it is that certain uncertainty that stretches the air to breaking.

"You're making friends? Good, good." The last drops fall to the glass. Drip. Drip. Drip. "So how'd you two meet?"

[Elanorin]

"Thank you," Lily said after a moment's hesitation. She bowed her head and hoped the question would melt away and be forgotten by everyone there. She was being silly now and missing the point, and she knew it.

Stick to the point.

"It has been enlightening to meet you. Winter has a lot to learn from Autumn and I sincerely hope we will work together again. It will be an honour to hear from you again on how I can be of further service. Until then," Lily took a step back, another bow (feeling an odd need for a hood to pull over her head, despite the heat) and then moved to leave.

She made her way to Edmund's, not waiting for Isaac. She hoped he'd join her but if he had matters to attend to here first without her then she understood and wouldn't burden him with demands. She was late, she was well aware of that, but now that the most urgent business had been tended to she felt she could risk allowing herself a pause in her duties. Besides, she was genuinely looking forwards to seeing Edmund's enormous floor-to-ceiling tropical aquarium.

When she arrived she was not only very late, but she looked like she could really do with a shower. If Isaac arrived with her she'd quickly drop his arm the moment they stepped through the door under the pretence that she needed to straighten her clothes, brush off some dust or pick up a menu.

[Anarion]

"You're making friends? Good, good." The last drops fall to the glass. Drip. Drip. Drip. "So how'd you two meet?"

Aelas has the good sense to blush, and when she does so, her whole head of hair tints a little pink to match her cheeks. "Well, er, there was a bit of a car chase, and Static here was the only one who held when I unleashed a gigantic fire storm, and then we...um...went down to Newcastle and looked at some really neat alpacas and went to the souvenir shop and learned about, um, some war stories or something. I um, kinda had to run at that point because of some...uh...other stuff, so I sort of stranded Static down there, but then I felt really really bad, so I apologized when we met earlier today at the city dump and now we're friends! She's pretty cool too, but kinda hard to get to really open up. I think you'd have to promise to be friends too first."