[Changeling] A Gathering of Mists IC

[Anarion]

The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco
-Mark Twain, apocryphally


A Gathering of Mists

The OOC thread can be found here. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=243146)

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The thorns press close. When the hobgoblin said that he knew a route out of the hedge, well, you weren't expecting a broad open road, but you had hoped there would actually be a path. Calling this narrow space between sharp, jagged pine branches a path would be an insult to paths the world over. And one can ill afford such an insult in the Hedge.

However, any doubts you may have had evaporated a few minutes ago when you saw a distant light and a faint glimpse of fog wafting over what looked like worked stone. It faded in and out after that, but you were never in doubt of its direction.

As you push a final branch aside and step forward, suddenly there are no branches. As far as the world is concerned, there never were any branches. Certainly not on a polished marble second floor balcony. Especially not one with such nice worked railings, an old-fashioned post lamp surrounded by trailing fog, and an arched marble doorway next to the finest Corinthian columns.

Beyond the street and a small garden you can't see where you are. The balcony is lit by only the single lamp, and at its other end, about 15 feet away, you see two men who appear to be chatting closely with each other, facing the street, their backs to you. They're both dressed in dark suits, but with the fog and only the single lamp, you can't see much else about them and they don't seem to have noticed you yet.

[Raz_Fox]

Something desperate this way comes; through the tight press of trees that rake and tear, Marchande makes her way, calling out to her friends to follow her, her claws pushing back the thorns that bite at her, her fine suit of a moonlit night whispering silky-soft against her fur. Home. People, streets, music, dinners- no, no, kindness, love, comfort at the end of the day- there, there, the path is there, follow, follow-!

And then she pushes back a branch, wincing as the thorns bite into her hand, and she steps out into the night. The light's almost blinding for a moment, forcing her to blink, and she breathes deeply. Exhaust, and cold night air, and fleeting quiet. The taste of the city on her tongue. She looks back, grinning, with all her white teeth on display. "Home," she says, quietly, hardly able to find the words.

A man shifts, a shoe scrapes on marble; Marchande looks up, her eyes wide, to see two men standing nearby, not having seen the vagrants stumbling onto their balcony. Panic! Runrunrunrun! No, that's the dog- but she is a dog, and the girl of shadows, and the suicidal archangel, and the yellowed doll, and they'll be chased and hunted down, they're not supposed to be home, how can they be home and still be monsters? She still has the tail, the muzzle, the ears, the fur hanging from her wrists and run. No, bad dog! Quiet, be quiet, act like a woman. A woman who just appeared out of nowhere, a woman who looks like a dog- but her companions, they won't see them, they'll blunder out and Stephanie will start talking, and oh no no no not good at all.

She glances back, to her companions coming out of the thorns, and whispers, "Quiet!"

[Thanqol]

Aw man. Back in reality for all of three seconds and someone was already telling her to shut up.

She glanced over the side. Second floor? Why was Marchy worried about this? Clear lines of escape in all directions. No guards. This was easy - oh! Stephanie's eyes widened a little as she realised what March was trying to say. She wanted them to eavesdrop on their conversation!

"Don't worry, I got this!" Stephanie said with a bright smile and in a voice that, while quiet, didn't sound enough like a whisper to reassure anyone that she was taking this seriously. And, like oil across a mirror, she flowed through the shadows, over the edge of the balcony, and upside-down along the lower edge to just below where the men were talking.

[Contract: Spider Foot Style, Catch active (stone surface). No consequences for failure so no activation roll needed?

If you particularly need a Stealth roll, my pool is at 9 before situational bonuses and penalties]

[SiuiS]

Charlotte pushes her way out through the branches behind Stephanie, pulling her hair painfully out of the comb of needles. She absently tries to hold open the way for Kalina - for all the good that has done so far - but the scenery is overwhelming! Everything so bright, vivid, so real, she doesn't notice her arms fall slack at her sides.

The darkness hugging the fuzzy orange of a lamppost, the mists clinging to everything like a thin persian veil, the cool, clear air-

Charlotte coughs, muffling the sound in her elbow's crook. But it is cool at least.

[PhoeKun]

Rearguard of the thorns. Last in line to shield the way. In front are desperate shapes and shadows. Behind are thorns and memories. They rip and tear and catch at cloth and wings, but never damage, never mar. Kalina, flower among the thorns. One, two, three. Kalina steps forward, catches. Stumbles back. Forward one more time.

Rose breathes the clear and open air.

"Quiet!"

"I got this!"

Perfect lips pull thin and grimace. She releases the softest of sighs. And Rose, Kalina, stands and watches the first men she's seen in a lifetime. Quietly.

[Anarion]

The men seem caught up in their conversation and don't notice you suddenly appearing on the balcony, even with Charlotte's muffled cough. Luckily the fog serves as a damper for sound.



Aw man. Back in reality for all of three seconds and someone was already telling her to shut up.

She glanced over the side. Second floor? Why was Marchy worried about this? Clear lines of escape in all directions. No guards. This was easy - oh! Stephanie's eyes widened a little as she realised what March was trying to say. She wanted them to eavesdrop on their conversation!

"Don't worry, I got this!" Stephanie said with a bright smile and in a voice that, while quiet, didn't sound enough like a whisper to reassure anyone that she was taking this seriously. And, like oil across a mirror, she flowed through the shadows, over the edge of the balcony, and upside-down along the lower edge to just below where the men were talking.

[Contract: Spider Foot Style, Catch active (stone surface). No consequences for failure so no activation roll needed?

If you particularly need a Stealth roll, my pool is at 9 before situational bonuses and penalties]

[That's close enough that you don't need a check to overhear the conversation. Stealth roll at your full dice pool with the sound dampening from the fog counteracting how close you're getting to the men. Don't open the spoiler unless you get a success on stealth.]

At this distance, you can see that the man on the left (relative to the rest of the party, not to Stephanie's new position) is Asian and the man on the right is Caucasian. They're both wearing ties and shirts with French cuffs and fancy cufflinks. Starting with the Caucasion man

"Listen Phil, this debate is not going to end well. You know as well as I do that opposing prop 13 is political suicide. If it ever gets out that our girl wants higher taxes on those rich estates, well, I don't have to ****ing spell it out for you."

"Look, I get that. But it doesn't need to get out. Our line is that the city needs to be more fiscally responsible. That's what we're sticking to: fiscal responsibility. Just tell her to stay away from the tax issue, and if it comes up she should just stick with "everybody pays their fair share." We have to have this debate next week or she'll look like a coward. We both know it."

"Yeah, but goddammit, it's like we're just baring our goddamn throats for the other side. I just

*You hear the sound of several soft chimes going *ding ding dong dong in a descending scale.*

"Oh, the second act is going to start, let's go back back in."

[Thanqol]

[One success. This is the WoD I know.]

Proposition thirteen... Suicide! Taxes on the rich! - Wait. Aw man, this was one of them boring conversations. She remembered these. They were common back here. Maybe they'd - aw no, now they were on about fiscal responsibility. Damn it. Too much to hope for.

The shadows back near the group took on a violet hue, wrapping themselves around the architecture and going taught as they were pulled on. The blonde infiltrator flipped back over the ledge.

"Nothing interesting. Unless any of you are secretly super rich, in which case they're planning to tax you. In the estates." She paused. "On the estates. For your estates. A tax for having an estate." That seemed close enough. "Oh, and we're outside a theatre or something."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte watches as Stephanie silently climbs - oozes, really - back over the landing.

Stephanie is still a cloud of shadows and sprightliness. Marchande (such a clever name!) is still the regal hound. Kalina is still beautiful and terrible. She herself must still be changed as well. On a landing? Outside a theatre?

"We need somewhere to hide..." She moves her hand slightly, indicating the group as a whole.

[Thanqol]

"Hide from what?" Stephanie said. "Opera security? With an open balcony like this we could just leave. It's barely two, three meters down."

[Raz_Fox]

From wealth to wealth. Their surroundings took on new meaning for Marchande, knowing they were at a noble opera house. Luxury, prestige, power- all things that were common back there. Was it any surprise that the path had led here?

A quick moment's deliberation, and she nodded at Stephanie. "We should get down. Find somewhere to hide. Rose, can you help Charlotte down?" Marchande had no idea how she'd get down, but the other three could get down easily. Maybe Rose could catch her if she came last.

[Anarion]

As Stepanie is slithering back, all of you hear the sound of several soft chimes going *ding ding dong dong* in a descending scale and the men begin to turn around.

[If you do wish to remain unseen, you have a turn to do something. Any rapid movement will need a stealth roll. Dice pool will depend where you're moving.]

[PhoeKun]

If this was a time for supposing, Kalina would suppose she was lucky. For the first time in memory, the air is cool and inviting and breathable. The sounds are all soft, business and pleasure and quiet concepts like politics and opera. Luxury and companionship. She is free. Completely and totally free.

And she has orders. Rose tilts her head to lock eyes with Marchande, then tilts her neck to let it crack. She turns to peer at the men again, in their suits with their well-combed hair, soft and happy and talking business. Safe. Her eyes wander to her and. She... would like to touch them. Talk to them. But she cannot. She has orders. Down it is.

Rose turns to Charlotte, stoops just a touch, and takes her into her arms like a newlywed bride. She hops atop the balcony railing, and pauses for one last look at the men. Huge, beautiful wings flare up from her back, kicking up a light breeze. And then, a quick step forward. She drops down.

[Thanqol]

Kalina had the right idea, Stephanie was pleased to note. Stephanie grabbed March - around the middle, she didn't exactly have the upper body strength to sweep her off her feet - and they fell backwards together over the edge of the balcony.

It never occurred to Stephanie that an unexpected upside-down jump off a second storey balcony might cause March to scream.

The violet shadows lashed out in every direction, spinning a web and catching them softly two feet off the ground. They flipped back to an upright position a second later, feet being placed safely on the ground.

[Anarion]

[Okay, that's going to be a stealth check from everyone. The men are at a -2 penalty on their wits+compsure due to the low light and fog. Marchande and Charlotte are making the check to avoid making a noise due to surprise and the fall and are at -1 on the check.

Just the stealth roll, but Kalina should also take -1 to it to represent the extra effort in landing quietly.]

[Thanqol]

[Activating Night's Subtle Distractions; catch met, no cost, 4 dice - 2 successes.

Stealth: 9 dice, 9 again on stealth: 5 successes - exceptional success! Can I translate that into covering someone else's failed stealth roll as well?]

[Anarion]

[Activating Night's Subtle Distractions; catch met, no cost, 4 dice - 2 successes.

Stealth: 9 dice, 9 again on stealth: 5 successes - exceptional success! Can I translate that into covering someone else's failed stealth roll as well?]

[Yes you can! Would you prefer to help Kalina land and negate the need for that athletics roll, or use the shadows to muffle a potential shout from either Marchande or Charlotte?]

[Thanqol]

[Yes you can! Would you prefer to help Kalina land and negate the need for that athletics roll, or use the shadows to muffle a potential shout from either Marchande or Charlotte?]

[- Team Obvious neither wants nor needs my assistance
- A chance to gag a fellow party member on the first page

Therefore I'll take the shout muffling]

[Anarion]

[- Team Obvious neither wants nor needs my assistance
- A chance to gag a fellow party member on the first page

Therefore I'll take the shout muffling]

[Results will be described after others have checked.]

[SiuiS]

Charlotte has enough time to start forming the word 'what' before Kalina, unburdened by her weight, springs into the air. Eyes closed, biting her lip she falls, and then...

There is no 'then'. Opening her eyes slowly, heart in her throat, Charlotte realizes they aren't falling - it was only vertigo. She blushes slightly, ashamed that only paralysis kept her from screaming or burying her face in Kalina's hair.

Setting her feet slowly on the ground, she recovers her poise enough to shakily breathe "M... Merci."

[Anarion]

As Stephanie falls to the ground and the shadows lash out around her, Kalina, holding Charlotte cradled in her arms descends slowly to the ground, an angelic light glowing around her wings. However, as the two men head back towards the inner door and pass by the side of the balcony, the shadows lash out further from Stephanie, forming almost a solid barrier above Kalina's descent. Not even a single speck of light reaches the upper level.

In just under 5 seconds, the entire Motley has jumped off the side of the building with the silence of an owl swooping on its prey.

Looking around, you find yourselves on a lawn that forms a small decorative garden, only a few yards long extending from the building. Past the garden is what appears to be a service road leading out onto the street. The road is flanked by two large, ornate gates made of wrought iron bars, which are standing open. Behind you is the building. There is light coming out of a series of windows about 10 yards away from the road, which looks like a glass side entrance to the opera hall. There doesn't appear to be anyone else around.

[Raz_Fox]

Duck into the shadows, Marchande thinks, as Rose picks up Charlotte and bounds from the balcony like a startled bird. No, not a startled bird, like a superhero- stop thinking about birds!

She shifts her balance, ready to slip into the shadows under the lamp, when Stephanie grabs her around her waist and pulls her off her feet, straight off the balcony. Her stomach lurches, and it takes her a moment to stop being disoriented enough to even think about opening her mouth to scream. But she clamps her mouth shut and turns it into a whimper as they near the ground, and even that whimper is muffled by the thick, cloying darkness all about Stephanie.

A sudden lurch, reorientation, and she's on the ground, flustered and ruffled. For a moment she's uncertain what to do, whether she wants to cry or scream in relief or slap Stephanie. She then decides to act like she wants to act, and very carefully reaches up to adjust her suit and smooth it out, glaring at the grinning Stephanie as she does so. Dogs act on their emotions immediately, people make sure that everything is in order and make rational decisions.

Well. They're safe, for now, but they're still all freaks and monsters. They've escaped one danger, but, well, everywhere is danger now. Hidehidehide freak monster dig a hole and hide- rational. Rational consideration. Don't listen to the dog, listen to the suit.

"...we're not safe here," she says, after a moment. "We need to find shelter."

[SiuiS]

"But where will we go, so conspicuous?"

Charlotte looks around with barest turn of her head, letting the routine set in. No pain. No chill, moist air. No heart, fluttering in panic like a butterfly caught in a web in her chest. Just friends, with needs-

Charlotte blinks once, slowly, for all the world like a gecko. Friends? The butterfly in her breast stops its struggles. She has friends, and maybe, she has an idea.

"We need coverings. We need to find a place for Kalina to take off her armour. Are these sound, miss?" She looks to Marchande with a shadow of a smile beneath her stitching.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie took Marchande's failure to comment on the drop to be a sign of approval. Really professional. She'd freaked out way more the first time she'd jumped off a second storey balcony. Marchy was a class act.

"Oh, oh, oh," Stephanie said, "I've got a house! Well, an apartment-y thing, but it's mine, and we can stay there. It's just a little walk thatwayish," she gestured south and smiled brightly.

[PhoeKun]

"You have a house."

Rose blinks. She looks down at her hands again, as well as the rest of her body.

"You. Have a house." She doesn't say the words so much as spit them in the kind of horror and disbelief that can only come from... from... however many years of homelessness. Which is every single one she's been alive for. No one said the world was fair...

Her hands clench into fists. She sighs and drinks in the scenery around her and feels a rush of memories assault her brain. Here, the opera house. Over there would be that one restaurant that used to serve those amazing breadsticks even if you didn't pay for an entree. There's a decent bench for napping there, she thinks, or at least there used to be back then. And wasn't there a park somewhere nearby? She shakes her head.

South. South was... oh. Oh.

"With the appropriate raiment, we could easily be street performers."

Just change the subject, Kalina. It's better this way.

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, I have a house. I worked full time scrubbing dishes to pay for that house, so I feel like I earned it." Stephanie said, voice carrying a whisper of... grumpiness? Defensiveness? Hurt?

There was a touch of hesitation after the topic was changed before she brightened again. Not so much easily distracted, in that moment, as choosing to be easily distracted.

"Oh, if I can find some empty bottles or balls or something I could juggle! Do you guys know any tricks?"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte coughs tinily into the gap between arguing and forgiveness. "I can... Do... Pictures?" her voice even more of a whisper. Hazily she recalls having to do things, needing to, for good and shelter... The thoughts are so alien. Something so normal being as unknowable as hirrglyphics?

Quietly, Charlotte begins hyperventilating, blinking the barest of tears from her eyes.

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande nodded at Charlotte, almost absently, lost in worry. There was no way any of them could walk the streets, no matter where they wanted to go. Rose was a giant, an angel of glittering light, who'd never walk anywhere without being plastered over the news. Stephanie might be able to move in the shadows, as long as no one got a look at her, but one bright light and one good look, and she'd be in Rose's boat. Charlotte was off, and Marchande herself... she was too human to be a dog and too dog to be a human. Her spine was straight, her hips human, she moved like a human and was proportioned like a human and that just made it all a little bit worse, still being the dog.

They could steal someone's clothing, maybe. Give Rose a massive trenchcoat, wrap up Charlotte in scarves, and... no, she wouldn't give up the suit, and there was nothing that could disguise her muzzle, hat or burqa or mask. If they stole a car, maybe, but who could drive? She certainly wouldn't trust Stephanie at the controls, and Rose didn't look like she'd fit very well into a car, anyway.

And then she heard 'tricks'.

"No tricks," she barked at Rose and Stephanie. The bark was embarrassing, louder than she meant, and she stopped herself from tearing into them further, but she couldn't stop her hands from trembling with anger. No tricks. No more tricks. She was not a pet that performed on command and did clever tricks anymore.

Deep breath. One, two. Breathe in, breathe out. "Is there anyone living at your house, Stephanie? Would it have been rented out in your... absence? It isn't a good idea to be seen right now, or to get arrested for breaking into someone else's house."

[PhoeKun]

"...Aha."

Rose stiffens as she's rebuked on all sides, each in a different way. What she'd meant of course was... well, what did it matter what she'd meant? Her wings stretch and shimmer in the glow of the nearby lamp. She turns away from the others.

She takes several long strides away from the group, and halts. Steel plates clink and rattle against a hauberk, and she slowly closes and opens her hands around nothing. And where does she think she's going, exactly? Wandering the streets of the city, alone and directionless? No. No. And to think, this is what freedom looks like. Feels like. She slams a fist into the nearest solid object.

"We will be seen. What's going to happen when we are?"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte sees the panic on Marchande's face, could feel the sudden absence behind her, still hear the hurt in Stephanie's reply, echoing in her head. And here she was, verging on panic because she will have to earn her living?

Oh, I'm such a loud-mouth... The thought is bitter, but calming. Doing something the wrong way means there is a right way, too. Her breathing slowing, the pale orange veil of panic falling away, Charlotte turns. "We have to do something. We should follow Stephanie, miss Rose. She will need our help, and maybe she can help us too." She steps towards Kalina, her footfall deliberate and audible. "And it is dark, and late. No one will believe they saw us if we are swift."

[Thanqol]

"My absence?" Stephanie looked confused for a second. "How long's it been? Anyway, uh, the guy promised that no one would notice that I was gone. I dunno."

Without thinking, Stephanie stepped out onto the street and asked a random passer by, "Hi! My name's Stephanie. Could you please tell me what month and year it is?"

She did this while everyone else was discussing what would happen if they were seen.

[Anarion]

Stephanie has to move about half a block over to find a person. Given her speed and ease of movement in the evening, this does not take her long. The person she does find appears to be somewhat drunk and wearing a heavy overcoat against the cold. He's walking East towards City Hall.

"Eh, whazzat girl? The date. It's May 2012. Ain't you been watching the news? They're havin the Bridge 75th anniversary in two days. Been darn near everywhere, I even use the flyers for sleepin sometimes. Wha's a pretty blond like you doin out at this hour anyway?"

[Anarion]

[double post because the forum is doing that thing where you can't see my other post.]

[Thanqol]

"Oh gee," Stephanie said. Her brain started doing the arithmetic to see how long it had been since her rent expired.

Something occurred to her. "Wait, you can't see the -" she waved her hand rapidly in front of him, fingers discorporating into a hazy blur of mist. No shouting or flinching or accusations of being a witch?

... Cool!

"I mean to say, I'm out looking for a coat or something because my friend had a date, see, but he was a boffin-jerk, and he was rude to her all night. You know, the kind of guy who's always talking about himself and his work and says it in terms that mean like you should understand what he's saying and praise him for it but in reality he's totally up himself?"

Stephanie took a breath, clearly exasperated, "And then, would you believe it, he goes and spills wine on her nice new dress and doesn't even notice it so she storms out, and I go with her, but she can't exactly walk home like she is and she didn't think to grab her coat on the way out. And I don't exactly have any pockets in this thing -" she flicked her coat, and immediately found three or four pockets "- Oh wow, good to know! Anyway, I forgot my purse and don't have any money with me, so I'm basically looking for someone who'll loan me a coat or tell me where to find one or something."

Stephanie gave the bright smile of someone who's world was a place where this was possible.

"I couldn't really pay you, if you were to offer yours, with anything other than thanks, but I could promise that it'd be really good karma and I'd give money to the next person who asked for it."

[Offer for a simple Pledge;
Tasks:
- Endeavour (Lesser) -1: Gives me his coat
- Endeavour (Lesser) -1: Gives money to the next person who asks
Boon:
- Blessing (Lesser) +1: Mortal gets resources 2 or +1 resources
Duration:
- 1 Week +1

Manipulation+Persuasion roll to talk him into it? Bonuses or penalties?]

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande winces in shame as Rose takes out her frustration on the nearest tree. They'd just escaped, they're lost and scared, she shouldn't have barked, what was she thinking. She was thinking that they were doomed to be freaks and monsters forever, that was what she was thinking. But she had to convince them that they could do something, anything, rather than going back.

"We might not have to let them find us," she says to Rose, slowly, not quite believing herself. "Charlotte almost looks human, she could... find us accommodations. We could hide. Get a job working from home, maybe. I mean, if you wanted to stay with us. We could... it might be safer if we worked together. You're strong, capable of getting us places no one else could. Charlotte is, well, you saw what she did for Stephanie. I'd feel safer if we worked together. And Stephanie, well, she's..." Gone. No. Not again, Marchande, why weren't you looking after her. "Shoot shoot shoot."

Marchande rushed towards the street, for a moment forgetting her fear of being seen - and there she was! Running down the foggy street after a man on his walk! That girl of shadows and wisps and her cloak- aaaaaargh! What was she thinking? She was going to get them all...

He turns, she can see from her vantage point. He speaks to her, normally. She waves her hand in front of his face. They talk more. He doesn't run away. Marchande's jaw sags open, and she simply stares at the two figures, far off in the mist.

...he was obviously drunk. Or on some illegal substance. That must be it. Her tail twitches, agitatedly, and she looks back at Charlotte and Rose. "I think she's trying to get directions," she says, in a voice that says the joke isn't very funny, but if she doesn't say it like a joke she'll start screaming in sheer panic and stress and confusion.

She turned back, then, and whispered to the shadowy figure of Stephanie, half a street away. She said, under her breath, something she remembered from the crackle of the fireplace in the Master's house, and wrapped it into the words, "Good luck."

And something exploded behind her eyes, something unfamiliar and wonderful all at once. It tasted like the fire of the Market, and it made her grin, and she knew- knew- that Stephanie would get out of that conversation for the better.

Activating Favored Fate, giving Stephanie a +4 bonus to her next roll. Marchande is now at 4/10 Glamour.

[Anarion]

The man looks gruff and resistant.


Manipulation+Persuasion will do. That's the only coat that guy owns and its cold out, plus your claim sounds like you're going to take his coat and never come back. So -3 penalty. You've got+4 from Marchande's favored fate. Net +1 overall. Roll is contested and the fellow got 1 success.

[Thanqol]

The man looks gruff and resistant.


Manipulation+Persuasion will do. That's the only coat that guy owns and its cold out, plus your claim sounds like you're going to take his coat and never come back. So -3 penalty. You've got+4 from Marchande's favored fate. Net +1 overall. Roll is contested and the fellow got 1 success.

[Manipulation+Persuasion = 6, Striking Looks and situational +2, 8:
1 - 1 - 10 - 1 - 8 - 6 - 1 - 10
2 - 7
= 3 successes]

Stephanie maintained a wide-eyed gaze.

[Anarion]

"Well, alright I'spose. Can't let a cutie like you freeze. Sure hope I don't freeze neither, and get some'othat Kaaarma" *slurring the word.*

He takes off his coat and hands it to Stephanie. He seems to stiffen for just an instant. Stephanie also feels stiff, as though small chains of gossamer have wrapped themselves around her soul. However, the feeling passes as soon as it appears, and you know the pledge has been sealed.

The man looks to Stephanie. "If'n there's nothin else cutie, I'll be goin."

[Thanqol]

"Hey,"

Stephanie reached out to catch the man's hand. She looked him in the eye seriously.

"I was lying just now. It was worse than what I said. I wouldn't ask that of you if I didn't know someone who needed it even worse than you did. But I didn't know if I could trust you.

"Just... thanks. You did a really good thing. I mean it."

She kissed him on the cheek, a chill whisper, and was back, down, and away into the shadows - gone.

In a heartbeat, she was back with the others. Her expression was stilled, motions subdued. She gave the coat wordlessly to Rose.

[Anarion]

The man walks away down the rest of the block. And if you didn't know better and it wasn't so dark, you'd swear he did a little skip at the end of the block.

[PhoeKun]

Rose is silent while Charlotte and Marchande take turns trying to placate her and coax her into working with them. As if she could just walk away. Like the idea of being alone and free didn't send paralyzing waves of fear down her spine. Like it wouldn't unmake her on the spot to leave a trio of hopeless, helpless lost and broken children to the darkness and the streets.

She laughs bitterly; Stephanie is gone. With a shake of her head, she walks to the end of the street, to where Marchande is standing, and gently lays a hand on the other woman's shoulder. They watch, together. Marche nervously cracks a joke, Kalina is implacable. Impossible things are happening. Stephanie comes back and hands a coat over without a sound.

Rose stares at the garment, transfixed. She lifts it in one hand, and stares at Stephanie for what feels like an hour with an unreadable expression. Finally, slowly, gingerly, she takes the coat and slips it on, wrapping herself in her first garment in a lifetime. It's cramped and uncomfortable. She has to tuck her wings tightly against her back just to make it even sort of kind of fit. She makes a mental note to get a new blade for herself and make some alterations. But even despite all that, it's... beautiful.

Rose drops to one knee, lowering her head like a knight swearing fealty to her Lady.

"...Shall we go and check on the condition of," she chokes on these last words for a moment, "of your home?"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte watches the slow unfolding scene and tries to put together the pieces. Sunny yellow Stephanie shines through but the amorphous shadow monster does not? Even drunk something should have been a clear alert to the man...

And then Rose and Marchande, watching after Stephanie like concerned parents. Charlotte wrinkles her brow, lines of creamy moonlight marring the pale gold-yellow as Marchande mastered her panic and fear, a cloud of white static visibly reducing around her.

And then the coat. Charlotte knew well the work of hands, and handing. Coins trading hands... More than recompense there was a magic there, a sign of deals made and sealed. Was this some token of fealty? surely, as Kalina kneels and a gilded purple flows around her... That was new. Devotion? Fealty? She wasn't sure if fealty was even an emotion. Charlotte sets her jaw witha sternness that resembles a slight pout more than anything. Her back itched, tingled.

"We should move swiftly, mademoiselles, so we can find this place and rest." Charlotte closes the distance between herself and the others, poised and dignified. And if there is a huskiness to her voice well, who could blame her? The night and the journey have been long and harrowing.



Charlotte is keeping a lid on her developing irritation. I'm invoking Stillness, and her Stealth specialty for the initial expression change. She would have mastered herself to a degree before stepping forward, so any Empathic actions would at this point rely on contesting her Composure, non?

[Anarion]

Charlotte is keeping a lid on her developing irritation. I'm invoking Stillness, and her Stealth specialty for the initial expression change. She would have mastered herself to a degree before stepping forward, so any Empathic actions would at this point rely on contesting her Composure, non?

The wind picks up a bit as you all shift outside the shelter of the opera house and it does indeed feel like its getting colder.

Regarding your question SiuiS, empathic actions for others to read Charlotte would use her composure. If Charlotte tries to get a read on someone else, that might still use something like wits, and trying to alter someone else's emotional state would probably use manipulation.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie was hesitant when Rose kneeled for just a moment, then quickly contextualised it. She's a knight, that's something that knights do.

It was a paper thin justification that would fall apart if looked at for more than a second, but it let her continue acting like everything was normal for now.

"Yes. Uh, yeah - we should go. You're welcome," she said, and quickly started walking.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte steps forward into the gloom, first tugging lightly on Marchande's hand, then brushing Kalina's shoulder as she follows in Stephanie's wake.

[Anarion]

The streets are relatively quiet. A few cars do pass by, their lights reflecting off the fog and seeming to almost rise off the ground.

After a few blocks, you reach Market street. This is much wider and somewhat better lit. It looks to be about 4 cars wide, plus a center divider. There te several people on the street, some homeless trying to sleep, others walking quickly to their destinations, and some taxi cabs drive by every couple moments.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie saw no reason to slow, stop or change bearing. She continued in a home-ish direction, trying not to think about the fact that her rent was five years overdue.

[PhoeKun]

As she had once before, Kalina took up the position of rearguard, keeping the others in front of her where she could see them all on their way to Stephanie's (more than likely former) home. Any port in a storm, as they say.

But while their fearless leader saw no reason to stop or slow, Rose saw plenty. Some were sleeping, others were just walking about. But most all of them made eye contact. She pauses and staggers every so often to gawk at the sheer normalcy of it all. What does it mean?

Her heartbeats quicken and she struggles to keep her breath. Why? Why why why why why why whywhywhywhy why?! No. Stop it. If she could survive There, she can do this. A brave warrior of justice does not have a panic attack in the streets of San Francisco. She simply doesn't. One breath. Two.

She has to run to catch up again.

[Anarion]

You walk a couple more blocks and find yourselves passing underneath a freeway. Those with a bit of local geography or politics would know that this is highway 101, which connects with Federal Interstate 80 just a few blocks away, essentially being a transportation artery that runs unbroken from Mexico to Alaska.

spoiler for Charlotte and Stephanie
As you step beneath the overpass, you two notice a shape all in black separate itself from the wall. There is a glint of moonlight on what looks like a blade, and it begins moving towards you quickly.

[Thanqol]

"Woah-woah-woah-woah," Stephanie said, raising her arms and walking back, blocking the others and herding them out of the shadow and into the light. She then stepped forwards and stood extremely still.

Her body began to discorporate into mist rapidly. Within seconds she was little more than a vague silhouette, surrounded by smoke and mist. "Good evening?" she said in a sing-song voice.

[Defensive stance, Stephanie's defence is now 8]

[Anarion]

The man comes towards you. On closer inspection, he appears to be a heavyset person of either Latino or Southeast Asian origin. It's hard to tell in the evening. He keeps advancing towards the four of you and demands "Shut up! Just shut up and give me all your money." He brandishes the knife he's holding, which does appear quite sharp.

[SiuiS]

GRARGH PHONE Y U SO MEAN THAT POST WAS PERFECTLY WRITTEN RARGH!
Charlotte watches enrapt as a small moon begins to dance free of the mural, unshackled from its canvas. It is not until the moon shouts, the moon swears, that she sees the man behind the moon, sees the moon itself for what it is - a sharp, sharp knife.

Charlotte blinks.

This, this she understands! Trolls wait under bridges. Trolls demand payment for passage. Trolls are also sometimes clever, and greedy. A greedy one would certainly devour someone and then take the money, if it could. There needed to be agreement. Payment, not charity. Charity buys nothing...

She steps forward, projecting. "Money for safety." already whispery, her voice seems to come from out of the fog. "We pay for safe passage, or the moon will drink of you instead, non?"



attempt at pledge.
Task forbiddance (-1; don't hurt us), boon blessing (+2; 2 dots wealth (prepaid card in wallet)), Sanction curse (-2; fumble badly), Duration day (-1)
Charlotte fully intends to pay using Discreet Conjuration which may be a violation of the pledge if the man doesn't use it immediately. C'est la vie.

[PhoeKun]

It takes almost all of Kalina's willpower not to pounce on the would-be assailant and snap his neck right then and there. It would be swift and simple. Brutal. A proper price for such a wicked, foolish plan. But... no. No. This is a man, not a fell drake or twisted golem or... well, best not to get caught up in memories. He is human, and he shouldn't --

What's this? What is Charlotte doing? Negotiation? Her muscles tense. It won't work. It can't work. There's no money to hand over, and the instant he figures that out, the lot of them are in danger. Her eyes narrow and lock onto the knife. Is this what passes for a blade now?

Quietly, Kalina shifts her gaze to the area around her, trying to find a stick, a leftover piece of rebar from a construction project, a piece of a bench... something to be her sword against his.

[Raz_Fox]

It couldn't be right.

Marchande walks down the streets, never managing to catch up to Stephanie, never managing to match Rose's speed. Her hands are anxious, her gaze nervous, as she walks along a real San Francisco street for the first time in too long. She adjusts her collar- the collar of her suit- and shakes phantom wrinkles out of the sleeves, stiffening and getting ready to run whenever a homeless man, a woman striding confidently down the sidewalk, a taxi driver on his route, happen to glance at her and her motley band of sisters.

Why aren't they screaming? Why don't they run? There is a dog walking like them, a shining angel behind her, a girl of shadows before her. And what does she receive? Polite nods, incurious glances, a man in a thick jacket with a cardboard sign asking her if she'd take pity on a guy down on his luck. This isn't right. This can't be right. The thought nags at the back of her head - did they escape at all? Will they be dragged back off in the night, when they finally realize that no one is real, that this San Francisco is a trap for them? No, she rejects it, again and again - she has to be home. She has to be free. If it's a trap she'd rather die than go back.

And if it's real, if they can't see the monsters in front of them, what do they see? Does she look like she used to, to them? Or do their eyes slide over her? Can they really see her, or do they simply see the suit, and know that she had a normal human face because all people have normal human faces? Is there some kind of comic book convention in town, and everyone thinks they're in costume?

It troubles her, nags at her, makes it so that every step is simply because she is moving, because she has to keep walking, and so it is that she runs right into the back of Stephanie when she suddenly stops and backs up. Marchande is tall, Stephanie is not; she nearly goes right over Stephanie's shoulders and has to push herself back, confused and disoriented.

That's when she sees the knife, and she freezes up. A mugger was someone she had heard of, and been warned about, but never actually seen. What were you supposed to do... do what they say, don't fight back, contact the cops immediately afterwards? But they didn't have any money, and... would he try to take her suit? Would he hurt them if they were unable to produce money? Could they make a run for it?

Charlotte steps forward, promising money - what money, Marchande wants to scream at her. What money? They have none! There's none to be had! She takes a step back, growling under her breath - some part of her still sees an intruder, someone who is to be chased and bitten for the Master, but it's controlled by the human, who simply wants to get away. Run. Drag them along if she has to.

[Anarion]

The man seems a bit confused at Charlotte's words. He's obviously not very smart and when she starts talking about the moon drinking, he blinks vacantly.

Kalina, for her part, notices that there are several wooden boards strewn around the area, preumably from furniture or materials that either fell or the road or were thrown away here.

[PhoeKun]

Rose steps forward and to the side, calm-as-you-like, keeping one eye on the would-be mugger as she goes. She stops over top one of the boards she spotted, and turns her head to look at him fully.

"You chose your prey poorly; there is nothing for you here." She bends down and picks up a piece of wood, and hefts it over her shoulder. Her voice is powerful and icy.

"You have twenty seconds to remove yourself from my sight. After that, I'll start removing your teeth." She stretches her neck, letting it pop and crack.

Does this call for an Intimidation roll? I feel like it might.

[Anarion]

The man seems hesitant. He fingers his knife repeatedly, almost compulsively, and his eyes seem glazed and not entirely focused. He might be on some sort of narcotic.

I'm sure Thanqol will have further commentary, but rather than do this with penalties, I'm going to say that you should make an intimidate roll with a dice pool of presence+intimidate+1 (for the board) contested by the mugger's resolve+composure+1 (for his knife). The mugger achieved two successes on his roll and we'll re-roll a tie.

[Anarion]

The mugger appears intimidated. He looks over Kalina's strong physique, at the board she's holding, back to his own knife, then takes a step back. And then another. He's still brandishing the blade, but looks quite shaky.

[PhoeKun]

Fear. Advantage. Kalina sees her assailant faltering and presses her advantage. She strides toward him with wide, even steps.

"Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Drop the knife."

She takes a second to adjust the board in her grip, swinging it through the air with a dull 'whoosh'.

"Sixteen. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen." Another couple of steps forward. She'll be on top of him soon. "Knife on the ground. Twelve. Eleven. Ten."

She brandishes her board like a duelist's rapier, prodding him in the chest with it.

"Run, little rabbit. Run."

[Anarion]

When Kalina actually touches the man, he loses it completely. He shrieks, spins around and begins sprinting away from the motley. Back under the freeway, through the darkness, briefly illuminated beneath a streetlight, and then gone around a corner and into the mist. You do note that he never did drop the knife though.

[Thanqol]

"Well, that was easy," Stephanie said chirpily, emerging from the mist about four yards to the left of her silhouette. Her plan had been to dodge the knife until the man slipped up or got tired.

That would have been really boring. The knife wasn't even on fire or anything.

"Keep going?" She proffered brightly.

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande stares, wide-eyed, as Rose scares away the mugger with just a piece of wood. She'd moved with such poise, such grace- she always did, of course, she was beautiful, but there was sudden confidence there, confidence that attracted and even frightened her.

She begins to slowly clap, smiling giddily at Rose. "Bravo!" One might notice that her tail is wagging happily.

[PhoeKun]

Rose sighs and shakes her head, lowering her new found weapon but not releasing her grip on it.

"He kept the knife. I should have broken his arm. I should have..." she halts as her gaze falls on each other other three women she's deigned to travel with. Safe and without a scratch. That's good enough, isn't it?

"...Keep going."

[Anarion]

The group continues a few more blocks, following Stephanie's route towards her house. Despite the passage of time, the area looks much the same and Stephanie has no trouble figuring out where she's going. If anything, the area looks too much the same. No new coats of paint, no new construction, and the exact same potholes in the streets. It's like someone just forgot this neighborhood was here. Or chose to forget.

After turning off Mission street, you travel another block over, turn and then find yourself on a corner with a few small shops that are part of 3-5 story buildings. On the other side of the street is a small market, and as you were walking down you passed a coffee shop called simply "Bill's Coffee." At the end of the block is a thrift store, and between the two, where you're standing now is a bakery. The smell of baked bread is faint in the air even at this time of night, and in the streetlights it looks like the place has a navy blue awning with strong white lettering that reads "Rosen Bakery." To Stephanie's notable surprise, the place appears to be well-maintained. The street in front is clean, the store-front doesn't have any chipped paint, and the window drapes behind the metallic shutter locking the place up look new, with posies printed on them. The upstairs windows are dark and it seems like everyone is probably asleep.

Looking to the space between each building, the fire escape route that Stephanie is used to using appears intact, dropping off in a relatively clean alley with a couple trashcans and not much else.

[Thanqol]

It was actually kind of... disappointing to see the bakery still there, still cared for. It was a strange feeling. Like she would have preferred it to close down or be replaced with something else, or hollow out and leave a scar...

But there were more important things right now.

"Well, this is it," Stephanie said with a brief smile, "I don't have my key, so I'll climb up the fire escape and let you in from the inside. Just wait right here."

She started running, kicking off the wall, jumping up to catch the base of the ladder to the fire escape. She flipped up onto it and ghosted up the metal stairs, towards the window to her home.

The motion was so familiar it brought a different flavour to the night air. She felt warm, safe, exhilarated. By this point she was already home, these were just the last few motions that needed to be made. Home.

[Anarion]

Stephanie has no trouble vaulting onto the fire escape and she flows up to the third floor like water flowing through a stream.

However, when she reaches the level, she finds that the window is locked and dark. It's difficult to see inside at all, and it occurs to her that something might be blocking it, so complete is the darkness.

[Thanqol]

After a moment's hesitation and a reflexive grab for her improvised lockpicks - long gone - she tapped on the window and softly called, "Hey. Helley. Let me in."

[Anarion]

You see something shift in front of a window. It looks like a black cloak, but you don't see any person. However, you do hear a voice come from the window, a mix of fear and restrained anger.

"Get out, now, or I'll call the police."

[Thanqol]

Well, that didn't sound too encouraging. "Uh, does Helen Rosen still live here?" she asked. "If she doesn't, could you tell me where she is now?"

Wouldn't notice I was gone my foot.

[Anarion]

The black cloak shifts again. You notice there seems to be a coat rack to the side of the window that the cloak is on. There's also a black top hat on the top of the coat rack.

"Who, what the hell are you? You stay away from her! She never did anything to you."

[Thanqol]

"Well, yeah she never did anything to me. I'm her sister." Stephanie said, rolling her eyes. "I'm Stephanie."

Top hat? Why was anyone who could afford a top hat living here?

[Anarion]

"Her sister? Is this some kind of prank? Did Sam put you up to this or something? What the **** kind of friend wakes people up in the middle of the night? Look, whatever it is, it's not funny. Just get out of here."

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, like Sam would have the brains to do something like this," Stephanie said flatly. "Okay, all right, I've been gone for a while but I'm back. And I'm also freezing, broke and hungry and I'd really like to know what's going on here."

[Anarion]

The coat rack seems to shift position a bit. You still don't see whoever is talking.

"Yeah, that makes two of us because I have no idea what you're talking about. But if you think I'm letting someone that looks like you in here, you're insane. I don't even want to think about what kind of store sells a costume like that. Now seriously, get out of here or I'm calling the police."

[Thanqol]

"You wear a top hat and you're making fun of how I dress?" Stephanie said, scandalised.

[Anarion]

"Got it, crazy person at the window. Cops will be here in a few minutes. They're pretty slow in this neighborhood, so you have time to run if you want."

You're pretty confident you're hallucinating, but the coat rack, top hat and all, walks away from the window.

[Thanqol]

Wait, was that coat rack - had she just been talking to a -

- Costume -

Ohhhh.

It could see her true shape! And she could see it's shape!

Maybe if she...

Stephanie focused, pulling all the mist and smoke around her close together. She focused on making sure not one wisp of darkness, not one tendril escaped her body. She tugged her collar straight, knocked on the window, and said "Hey! I'm not crazy and you don't need to freak out. Let's just talk about this."

[Point of glamour to strengthen the Mask, 4/10 remaining]

[Anarion]

The coat rack turns around...and drops the cell phone it was holding onto the kitchen floor, with the distinctive crash of glass shattering.

You hear faintly from inside the apartment a voice that Stephanie has not heard in a very long time
"Stephie, is everything okay?"

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stephanie called from the window, suddenly enormously encouraged. "Your friend just dropped her phone though." She waved.

She did wince to see the phone break though. Those weren't cheap.

[Anarion]

"My friend, whuh?"

You see a blond teenaged girl walk out of the bedroom and towards the window and the door to the kitchen. She's wearing a long flannel nightgown, presumably to keep warm in the chilly summer weather. Helen looks similar to how you remember her, but she's gained a few inches and she cut her hair pretty short, sort of a pixie cut actually. She still looks sleepy and appears to be looking from the kitchen to the window and back in bewilderment.

[Thanqol]

"Hi! Let me in?" Stephanie said brightly. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had."

[Anarion]

Helen seems confused, but before she can act, the coat rack lets out an animal-like snarl and shoves her back into the room before running to block the window.

[Thanqol]

"Woah! Calm down there, hatsy," Stephanie said, raising her hands but not backing away from the window. "Like I said, we can talk about this."

[Anarion]

"Talk about this? **** that. This is just like my dreams. I always thought there was someone else out there. I've had too many dreams of jungles and temples and whatever stupid kid's games Helen wanted to talk about.

And all the time, I saved up my money. I worked 12 hour days. I fixed up the bakery. It was me. Me, me. You think this place just keeps itself working? You think Helen feeds herself?

I don't know what the hell's going on here, or why you look like me and why you're in my head. But get out. Get out! Get out! Get out!"

[Thanqol]

"I'm already out!" Stephanie shouted back, "And you were just keeping my place while I was gone! I'm back now, so you can just - just -" Stephanie faltered, stumbling over the end of that sentence. "- just go away." She finished weakly, losing all traction and conviction.

[Anarion]

The cape and hat shift a bit at an angle and you have the distinct impression that the coat rack is sneering.

"Keeping it while you were gone? No, I don't think so. I don't understand how you look exactly like me, but whoever you are, you abandoned this place and went off to have your adventures. It's mine now. I made it into everything it is. Helen would be starving on the street without me. You were never supposed to come back."

[Thanqol]

"Well, I'm back. And you're nuts if you think I'm going anywhere." Stephanie said firmly. "Don't make me break this window down. I know they're expensive, and you've already broken your phone -" she said, quickly losing any chance of being intimidating. "But I'll do it!"

[Raz_Fox]

Most people would be nervous in a bad neighborhood at night, especially while they were wearing the most dapper suit you'd ever see. Marchande, however, was running high on the thrill of protection. She had a guardian angel; everything was fine forever. So she stands in the alleyway, arms crossed, looking upwards as Stephanie tries to talk to her sister. Here's where we'll get answers, she thinks to herself, answers to questions that we need to know. When are we - how long have we been gone? Not too long, probably, from the look of things. Maybe even just a day in the real world. And why aren't people scared of us?

Then the conversation goes bad. Stephanie starts arguing with the person on the other side of the window, and... and someone was keeping her place while she was gone. A family friend, Marchande rationalizes. No need to jump to conclusions. No need to be nervous. Someone came to look after Stephanie's little sister, the inspiration for Stephanie's return... and they didn't believe that Stephanie was really back. Or they were bitter. Didn't want to let a negligent sister back in.

Changelings. They steal a baby, and they leave a baby in the cradle - but it's not really your child. It's a thing from that place. It screams, it hollers, it's ill-tempered and cruel if you let it grow up. And it never really learns what our world is like. Isn't that what those fairy tales said?

Just a family friend. That's all. No need to get agitated.

[Anarion]

The coat rack seems about to answer, but them turns around. "Helen, get out of here. Go back to bed, this doesn't concern you."

Helen ignores the coat rack and walks back into the bedroom. "Who are you, and why do you look just like my sister?"

[SiuiS]

She just doesn't know what went wrong.

He demanded money. She demanded safety. And then there was yelling, and he came closer, and then... Kalina. She plucked a childs sword from the woods - no, that wasn't right, she pulled wood from the ground as though 'twere a sword... Right? She pulled out her 'sword' and told the man to drop his weapon, and then she pushed him and he ran away with the moon cradled in his hands. And Kalina was upset. Had she wanted the moon for herself?

Charlotte follows Kalina's lead, of course. She was magnetic. And Kalina followed Stephanie (wasn't she just in the back? she thought) and so the walk continued, and through it all was the pressing, smothering feeling. Failure.

ChRlotte had made a simple deal, and offered it to their attacker. He refused. Deals were not refused, not... Back there. In the thorns, in the darkness. Charlotte had stood there with her head up and her foot off the cliff like the fool on the card, and the world moved around her, it would always move around her, the world would goon and I'd she couldn't find her place then the best Charlotte could hope for was to be a standing stone in a moving stream. She had nothing, and even Stephanie had a home, Stephanie of all people had her home and her heart, Kalina had her sword and her charms, and Marchande had her suit and her smarts, and...

Freedom! Charlotte brightens - visibly, thanks to her hues - at the thought, clings to it like driftwood in the sea of her thoughts. I am free, she thinks, and I have nothing but myself to give, but that is enough. And then there is the bakery, the alleyway, with it's too-clean paint and too-neat rubbish bins, and Charlotte realizes she had been lost at sea, Stephanie was already going in, or trying too, and now she was... Shouting? At herself, from... Inside?

Shaking her head, she focuses on calming herself. Her thoughts are too scattered; she was a creature of poise. She would not be unbalanced by something as simple as being a bad friend!

One breath. Two. Focus.
Marchande, beautiful suit, straight and tall. Tail wagging; happy. Kalina, a storm cloud with with a beautiful halo. Passionate and composed at once, the light rustle of feathers under her newfound coat. Stephanie, a swirling blackness with violet brightness turned toe-headed and wan as Charlotte herself and the budding hurt of strange violet eyes.

...

Charlotte blinks. This will be harder than she thought...

[Thanqol]

"Uh, 'cause I am your sister," Stephanie said with a 'well duh' look on her face as if it would simply never occur to her that there were any other answer to that question, even as she was in the process of staring down her magical clone. "Short version is that magic is real and I've had a really long day."

[Anarion]

Helen laughs at that last comment, just a short giggle, but then starts biting her lip. "I don't, I don't get it. You both look the same. And you haven't said anything like that to me in years. Not since I started middle school."

The coat rack cuts in. "That's because we don't have time for stupid stories like that. I'm sorry I ever filled your head with all that garbage. We need to work hard every day just to make ends meet. If you think about anything else, you'll just disappoint yourself."

[Thanqol]

Stephanie wasn't feeling particularly threatened at this point, quietly certain that this was all a misunderstanding and that they could straighten it out before too long.

"Yeah, stands to reason: that version of me is a hat rack underneath an illusion. Hat racks don't have super amazing imaginations." To the hat rack, "Look. I know this must all be kinda weird to you - it'd be weird to me but I'm kinda used to weird by now - but I'm sure that we can actually work things out."

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande takes a deep, calming breath. Stay cool. Stay cool, Marchande. Don't start barking. She can avoid barking. She can do that much. Yes. No barking. You don't need to stay cool... but don't bark.

She looks up, and says, more forcefully than she intended, "Stephanie? What do you mean she's a coat rack?!" She can't actually be a coat rack, ahahaha. That would be crazy.

[Thanqol]

"Why can't she be a coat rack?" Stephanie called back down. "Have you seen us? It's like that, but with coats."

[Anarion]

The coat rack says "Coat rack? What are you talking about? I'm Stephanie. Me. I get that you're a part of me or something because of all the dreams, but you're also some shadow monster thing. I..."

The coat rack is interrupted by Helen. "You're really Stephie? Why?! Why did you leave? Why did you leave me with her?!"
She starts sobbing. The coat rack shifts its cape uneasily.

[PhoeKun]

From the familiar to the cripplingly alien. Rose stands in the alleyway, bewildered yet somehow not surprised. A pretty little building like that in a place like this? There had to be a catch where Stephanie was involved, and in this case it was a... talking... coat rack. But of course.

Kalina blinks. She looks over at Charlotte, twitching and blinking and only half composed. Then at Marchande, laughing and incredulous, clinging to "normal" and maybe about to snap.

"...What do you suggest we do?" she asks of nobody in particular.

[Thanqol]

"Look, it was a -" she couldn't bring herself to say it was a mistake. "- I was lied to. I came back as soon as I knew,"

She grabbed the window and tried to yank it open, but didn't have anything remotely approaching the muscle mass required and she still really didn't want to break that glass.

[Anarion]

Those of you in the alley notice that a couple of lights have turned on. All that shouting and the crash, not to mention a young girl sobbing now. It's the sort of thing that can make a scene.

Meanwhile, Helen, still sobbing says "But you wanted to leave! I was holding you down! I knew it, I always knew it!"

[Thanqol]

Her mind scrambled for a lie.

"I - just - It was -" she stumbled over each excuse as soon as it started. She didn't have anything to say. Nothing she could say from out here.

She took a deep breath, stepped back, leaned against the rail, and lunged forwards both feet fully extended - launching herself through the glass and hopefully to a graceful landing where she'd be able to talk to her sister face-to-face.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte watched the blond girl... No, Stephanie, Charlotte watches Stephanie... As she argued with the window, about a coatracks and magic and long days. Kalina had a good question. Lights were coming on. Lights meant people were home, awake, and don't want to hear screams about coatracks. And then...

Well, she doesn't know what then. What do you do in the middle of the night when someone screams about coatracks? There is beating, or the oubliette, or leaving them in the woods for the grigs. Except those aren't things normal people do. Normal people go to bars and act happy or drive to work and want to go home the whole time or sit in class and get yelled at. Well, that was the answer wasn't it? Normal people wanted to go home. That makes them normal people. Simple!

Charlotte turns to Kalina, her expression one of plainly knowing and happy about it. "We go in. Stephanie invited us into her house, did she not miss?" and all the while she is patting herself down, hands feeling through the rags for... Something, some token. For a moment she looks confusedly annoyed but then strides to Marchande and begins checking her pockets, patting her waist, her hips, tugging the lapels of her coat, before she smiles and reaches in to the jacket of the suit - and after a moments focus, pulls out her hand, grasping something.




using Discrete Conjuration, long description due to taking two "rounds" to spend the appropriate glamour.
Dice pool manipulation + Wyrd (4+1=) 5 -1 (never been in Marchande's pockets)
4, 8, 8, 8 - success
Charlotte needs some clothes >.<

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande took a deep breath, and licked her lips as she considered the situation. People were overhearing, and they were a motley bunch - and Stephanie was, like as not, about to get into trouble. They obviously needed to go inside. Wait, Charlotte just said that. But they needed a way to go inside. Rose. Strong enough to break a door down, or smash a window - no, that would make too much noise. How many entrances were there? Could they act like tenants, say that they'd been locked out and needed to get in? No, that wouldn't pass muster - that they were social workers here to help? Maybe.

And then Charlotte was feeling her up. No, just searching her; that didn't stop Marchande from making an embarrassed yelp as Charlotte dug through her pockets, and taking an unconscious step back. "Charlotte, I'm pretty sure that I-" And there, Charlotte smiled, and pulled her hand out of the inner pocket of her suit's jacket, grasping a small key. Marchande stared at it, making a quick consideration. "...already have a key that we can use to get in," she finished. Didn't Fate like it when they didn't make a fuss about things like that? She wasn't feeling like crossing it, not tonight. "Quick, let's go!"

[Anarion]

Her mind scrambled for a lie.

"I - just - It was -" she stumbled over each excuse as soon as it started. She didn't have anything to say. Nothing she could say from out here.

She took a deep breath, stepped back, leaned against the rail, and lunged forwards both feet fully extended - launching herself through the glass and hopefully to a graceful landing where she'd be able to talk to her sister face-to-face.

Stephanie was fast. She'd always been fast, faster than everything else around her. So it was maybe a bit surprising when this coat rack acted more swiftly than she and seemed to know what she was going to do even before she did. As she steps back the coat rack undoes the window latch covertly, and as she swings forward, it throws open the window. Expecting an impact, Stephanie instead goes flying into the room at full speed. Helen shrieks and the coat rack shouts
"I won't let you hurt her!" and jumps after Stephanie.

Attempts to grapple as Stephanie comes in the window. Coat rack gets a +2 bonus because Stephanie can't really dodge but is moving fast. Still ends up on a chance die because 4 defense is a large number.

[roll0]

The coat rack fails to grab Stephanie and the whole lot of them go tumbling in a heap that lands pretty much at Helen's feat, although Stephanie manages to maintain her balance reasonably well and is more or less standing.

------------------

Outside, you hear someone call out a window but can't see her due to the contrast between the light and dark exterior. "Hey, what are you girls doing down there? Is something happening?"

[Thanqol]

"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" Stephanie said, hopping backwards and raising her hands. "I just want to talk."

She completely dropped her defense, standing still and not dodging. It had been so long since this hadn't worked that she had no conception that it might not.

[SiuiS]

Panic. Panic. Panic.

The mantra repeats calmly in charlotte's head in a monotone meter. The window above still shuddering out its almost-broken slam. The other people looking out of their houses and asking awkward questions. She hesitates to answer, though decorum demands it. How would she answer anyway? Her fate, the fate of her friends, tumbled with this tumbler. It was act like nothing was wrong and go in, or call Stephanie and make good their escape to... Well, nowhere.

A few steps, a few breaths, and Charlotte is sliding the key along, feeling the teeth engaging inside. She holds the end, begins to turn...

[Anarion]

"You want to take my life away!" the coat rack snarls.

Helen appears rather dumbfounded for the moment, although she has stopped crying and is standing less than three feet from Stephanie.

-----------------

Outside, the key turns in the door. It's not perfect and feels like it catches for a moment, but a bit of pressure causes it to slide into place and the front door of the building unlocks.

[Thanqol]

"It's my life too," Stephanie said, "I'm sure we can work... something out. I mean, it wouldn't be fair just to kick you out..."

This, she was a lot less certain of.

[Anarion]

The coat rack seems...confused by that comment. Helen is also still a little stunned. After a moment, both start talking at once
rack: "Wait, you're okay with?"
Helen: "Hey, don't I get a say?"
Rack: "So you're going to stay?"
Helen: "Does that mean you're going to leave?" "
Rack: "No, she wants to take over!"
Helen: "But she didn't want anything to do with me."

---------------------

Outside, several lights have turned on and whoever was shouting is waiting for an answer. Inside, the hallway is narrow and relatively dim. This side of the building leads inside to an alcove that's only about 5 feet square. It has a set of mailboxes for all the apartments and a set of stairs that immediately go up (access to the first floor bakery is from the other side). The floor is bare and tiled in russet earthenware, while the walls are a drab gray.

[Thanqol]

And that was the break Stephanie needed. Suddenly she was back on firm ground where everything made sense. She smiled. Beamed.

"Sure! Just because you're a hat rack doesn't mean we can't be friends. I have way weirder friends than that. And we can work out a deal! If we all work together, as a team, think of all the stuff we could do!"

Already her imagination was running away from her. "It'd be like having an alter ego, except my alter ego would be a totally different person so no one would ever find out. You could run things during the day and I could run things at night. It'd be great!"

[Anarion]

"yeah, uhuh. And you would just come around anytime you felt like it? While I work hard every day actually paying the bills for this place? Why exactly would I agree to that? You'd better be planning to pay Helen's entire college tuition if that's what you want."

[Thanqol]

"Well... maybe I will!" Stephanie retorted. "How about that, then?

"Upon the name that we three share, let our Fate be truly shared.
"We three, against the world, to earn the place that was meant for us.
"May the day grant respect and wealth,
"May the night grant skill and whispers,
"May the twilight hold understanding and choice,
"Let the one who betrays this pact be judged and make restitution in the eyes of the others.
"But otherwise, let this year be one to remember.

Is this fair?"

[
Type: Oath, True Name (Obscured)
Tasks: Alliance, Medial (-2), Endeavour Medial (-2) (Stephanie: Pay Helen's College Tuition)
Boons:
Helen: Ensorcellment (+2)
Fetch: Blessing, Medial (Resources 3-4 or +2, +2)
Stephanie: Adroitness +1 (Larceny), Blessing Greater (Contacts to 3, +3)
Sanction: Favour, Greater (-3)
Duration: Year and a Day +3
]

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande doesn't even need to stop and think about where Stephanie's apartment might be. Third floor, door quite probably facing the fire escape. Up she lopes, not sparing any thoughts as to how incongruous a woman in a business suit running up stairs might be at this hour. Stephanie needed her help; that was more important than anything else. If asked? Tell the truth: family reunion of an associate gone bad, associate used the fire escape to surprise family, but I don't go up fire escapes, get out of the way please so I can defuse the situation.

That was the plan, after all. Defuse it, somehow. Get them to stop fighting, even if it requires promises.

[Anarion]

The coat rack begins to answer. "Well, if you're really putting your money where you mouth is..."

"No."

The coat rack stops what it was saying and turns to look at Helen, who has set her legs a bit apart and looks about ready to handle a tackle from a sumo wrestler.

"I said no. You...both of you always want to do things to me. You didn't even ask what I wanted! What makes you think I want two different sisters, one working me to death during the day and the other one just running in and out at night when you feel like it? You, *points at hat rack* ever since I started middle school it's been nothing but work and boredom. No more stories, no more fun, I could barely have any friends. You make my life miserable! And you *points at Stephanie* you decided you could just leave me. And the other Stephanie is right, you probably never would have supported me anyway. I was always a burden and even now, you come back and you don't really care about me at all. *you can see tears at the corners of her eyes.* Well, **** you both!"

The coat rack cuts in and says "Helen! What I have I told you about using that word?"

"Shut up! You use it all the time, I'm not deaf. I said **** you both. Get out of this apartment. Find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I don't want to see either of you! I hate you!"


------------------------
Meanwhile, Marchande has no trouble navigating the hallways and keeping her sense of direction. The building isn't that large and the floor plan is a paragon of simple, straight lines. You arrive at the door just about the same time Helen finishes up what she's saying.

[Thanqol]

"Helly, I came back because I cared about you." Stephanie said, suddenly feeling like she'd lurched over a chasm, and scrambled to explain, "- and I didn't know - I'm -"

She couldn't lie to her sister. But she needed a way around the truth that she had a point.

"- it's a really long story?" she finished weakly.

[Anarion]

"Great, you can tell it some other time then. OUT! NOW!"

[Thanqol]

She looked at the hat rack helplessly.

Why had that one been the easy part?

She stepped back. Opened the door, held it open, and if the fetch stepped out she went immediately behind.

She stared blankly at the door, having absolutely no idea how to process any of that.

[Anarion]

The hat rack does indeed move to step out. However, it stops at the doorway when it finds itself facing a humanoid dog, a rather disturbing yet intriguing mannequin, and the most beautiful and most muscular angel it has ever seen.

[Thanqol]

"It's cool, they're with me," Stephanie said flatly, ushering her out. "Everyone, Hatsy, Hatsy, everyone."

[SiuiS]

Marchande takes off immediately and Charlotte breathes a sigh of relief. Checking the apartment layout hadn't even occurred to her; she usually just knows these things. And just when she was ready to ask, this!

Charlotte follows...


The hat rack does indeed move to step out. However, it stops at the doorway when it finds itself facing a humanoid dog, a rather disturbing yet intriguing mannequin, and the most beautiful and most muscular angel it has ever seen.

... And stops.

An awkward stillness. Stephanie beside some cross between snidely whiplash and a fantasia broomstick, both at the mercy of a smaller Stephanie. The air is tense, awkward. Charlotte, luckily, knows what to do.

"A pleasure, miss... Hatty?" Charlotte curtsies as best her rags will allow.

[Raz_Fox]

Marchande arrives at the apartment just in time to hear the end of that argument. For all that Stephanie had gushed about Helen, it seemed that her little sister was not in a good mood this evening. The door opens before she can knock, and there before her is- well, a coatrack with a top hat hanging off it, and a little blonde-haired girl who speaks with Stephanie's voice. Both throw a wrench into the works for a moment, and then Marchande places one hand on Stephanie's shoulder and says, "You are going to show me how you did that."

Then she's pushing past the two of them, rather brusquely, because right now everything's narrowed down to the fact that they need to use this apartment, they don't have anywhere else to go or any money to spend on a hotel room, and even if Helen's angry at her sisters right now, well, Charlotte and Rose had no part in that quarrel.

"Miss Helen," Marchande says quickly, before Stephanie can try and ruin things out of a sense of heroism and familial affection, "I need to speak to you for a moment."

[Anarion]

Helen pulls back a bit when three strange girls enter the apartment. When Marchande approaches her, she says
"Who are you? How do you know my name, and why are you *giggle* wearing pigtails with a suit?

[PhoeKun]

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.

[Raz_Fox]

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?"

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.

[Anarion]

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

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.

[roll0]

[Raz_Fox]

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.

[Anarion]

"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?"

[Thanqol]

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.

[PhoeKun]

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.

[Anarion]

Helen looks to Marchande, who is still near her.

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

[SiuiS]

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."

[Raz_Fox]

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.

[Thanqol]

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.

[Anarion]

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."

[SiuiS]

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..."

[Anarion]

"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?"

[Thanqol]

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.

[Raz_Fox]

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".

[Thanqol]

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.

[PhoeKun]

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.

[SiuiS]

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...

[Anarion]

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.

[Anarion]

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.

[SiuiS]

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?"

[Anarion]

"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.

[SiuiS]

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?



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

We really need another name for Hatsy.

[Anarion]

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!"

[Raz_Fox]

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?"

[PhoeKun]

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."

[Raz_Fox]

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.

[SiuiS]

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.

[Thanqol]

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

[Anarion]

Breakfast is a rather tense affair. Helen comes out, this time with her hair brushed flat, which makes her look a bit like a boy. She compensates for that with a pink t-shirt that has a couple hearts with glitter all over them and a pair of worn blue jeans. Despite her perky apparel, the only comment you get is
"you better not be here for dinner, got it?" that comment is punctuated with the flying crumbs from a piece of toast.

Watching Hatsy eat is also a rather curious affair. Food goes up near the top hat and as it's about to touch a swirl of cape, it just disappears, though you can see bite marks on the remaining bread. It also appears to lift its fork without opposable thumbs. Though really, that's the least weird aspect of it.

Both Helen and Hatsy appear to be diligently pretending that they've joined a convent and taken a vow of silence.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte stands silently for a while, becoming more and more embarrassed. It was possible that Hatsy had not heard her, or even thought she was talking to the other Stephanie. It was more possible that she just decided to continue her life as though the thorns hasnt regurgitate lost lives and broken children all over.

There was only one thing to be done, then. Laundry.

Helen seemed ready for the world. Hatsy probably had somewhere she had to go and then pine for home at. Eggs or no eggs, now was the perfect time. Quietly, fluidly, Charlotte begins moving through the apartment collecting any laundry that may have strayed from its hamper, and in so doing tries to find a suitable pair of pants that wouldn't be noticed or missed.

[Anarion]

Charlotte finds a couple pairs of blue jeans that should fit her with no trouble. One a bit more worn than the other.

Meanwhile, Helen and Hatsy finish up eating. Still saying nothing, Hatsy begins clearing the dishes. Helen announces (looking at Hatsy and studiously avoiding the gaze of anyone else) that she will be at Jane's house all day, and home for dinner, and heads to her room to gather her backpack.

[Raz_Fox]

Real food is amazing. It is not some dry, disgusting dog food put in a bowl far too seldom, it is not a bone with a few scraps of meat tossed to Marchande, it is toast and eggs and it is what people eat and it is the most wonderful thing in all the world. She eats with a fork and knife, deliberately. She is not going to stick her face in her food ever again.

Once she is done, she stands up, picks her plate and utensils off the table, and cleans them off, making sure that not only is the job done decently, but that she doesn't get any water on her suit. It is quite possibly the most meticulous, determined cleaning that the dishes have ever seen.

Once that is done, and her hands have been dried, she turns to her friends. Well, to Kalina. Charlotte seems to have vanished, and Stephanie didn't even bother to get up. "Well," Marchande said, with a bit of a sigh, "You heard our host. Time for us to find accommodations- and the money with which to pay for them." Even though there are questions she would still like to ask- ah, wait, there's one that needs asking now. "Give me just a moment and we'll start," she says to Kalina, before following Helen.

She knocks on Helen's door, as politely as she can, and asks, if the door is opened- "Excuse me, but before you leave, can you do me a favor? I'd like for you to describe what I look like. What all of us look like, ideally, but if you don't have time, just tell me what I look like."

[Anarion]

Helen answers her door. She's got her backpack ready, and a gray, fluffy jacket that she's putting on. In response to Marchande's question, she gives a "how stupid are you?" look, but says
"Um, you're kinda tall and thin, and you've got a suit on and your hair is in pigtails *suppressed giggles.* Um, and I guess you do have a pretty nose and nice eyes too. Your little mousy friend is really short like Stephie, but she's got a pretty face. Your big friend has, like, white-blond hair and she's really beautiful. I wish I had skin like that, so smooth and perfect. And she looks really strong too. Does she work out?"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte continues gathering clothes, finishing her self appointed laundry task. Setting what there is of laundry, wherever laundry goes. Findig where it one's may take some time, depending on how regimented things are.

The ask done, and both the masters of the house about their business, Charlotte slides the most worn pair of jeans out of the stack and surreptitiously takes it to the bathroom. Closing the door, locking the door, sittin on the -- EEP! Colder than I thought... sitting on the toilet cover, she wins working the pants on over her legs. For their part, the legs don't quite cooperate, being dumb to the ways of pants after these long years. The fastener gives her one last spot of trouble, before final victory. She looks into the mirror over the sink, because normal people admire their handiwork with clothes. Her complexion is as she feared, milky and smooth. Not a normal girl, but a... Well, her. A doll, or action figure of some kind. Oh well...

Charlotte blinks away sudden, subtle tears, and represses whatever the mirror brought up within her.



***


She stands a pace back, politely. After all, Marchande didn't invite everyone along. She went herself, and for now, that is as good as a command. She is patient. She can wait.

It doesn't hurt that Charlotte is standing far enough back that Helen can't see what she is wearing, either.

[Anarion]

Helen makes her way past Marchande, finishes putting on her jacket (those watching are aware it makes her look a tad fat), doesn't even spare a glance for Charlotte, and heads out the door.

[Thanqol]

"Good morning, this is Radio Nowhere, repeat, this is Radio Nowhere - is there anyone alive out there?"

Urghhh...

"No, seriously. Is there anyone alive out there? I'm seriously starting to suspect I'm talking to myself here. They were all, "221B! You have a good voice! You should have a radio show!" And now I've got one and it's not as romantic as it sounds. I'm in this cramped apartment with several thousand pounds of illegal radio equipment. You know how hot this stuff gets?"

Stephanie opened one eye, bright orange even in the darkness. There was a girl's voice talking to her, tinny and distorted. She started to rummage blindly.

"Anyway. I guess I'm supposed to talk about the news here? Well, about eight hours ago I committed an act of terrorism against a major United States landmark. They'll probably notice that one in a few hours. My friends are all on drugs, and they're making an awfully good point that I should be on drugs too too. I'm also still not sure what happened last weekend, but I haven't seen any pictures in gossip magazines and I haven't been picked up by the feds so I think I'm safe for now."

Aha. There was the culprit. Stephanie grabbed the crappy old handheld radio out from under the blankets and held it up. She glared at it in the darkness.

She remembered this radio. The dial had come off years ago, sticking it on one empty radio frequency. She'd intended to get it fixed but must of ended up sticking it in the closet instead. And now it seemed she'd turned it on, and someone was using that frequency...

"Anyway. You people aren't here to hear me talk. You aren't even here. But it doesn't matter! I'm not doing this for me, or even for you. I'm doing it for the Music.

Next up, Coldcut's Everything is Under Control (http://youtu.be/KrQcOmpbkCs)."

Well, there was no way she could sleep now.

The closet opened smoothly, silently, and Stephanie was out, cape wrapped around her, radio safely in her pocket. Her hood was up, two large, orange eyes glaring out of the blackness. She moved quickly and smoothly, but with a brittle edge like she would snap if distracted at all from the task at hand.

Coffee. A set of knifelike tendrils emerged from under the cloak, picked up the bag and slashed the top open with razor-sharp tendrils. The switch for the coffee machine went on. The tendrils snatched down what was less a cup and more a small bucket with a handle.

Coffee first. Everything else could just... wait. Coffee first.

[Anarion]

Helen shuts the door and is out of the apartment. Marchande and Charlotte find themselves standing in the hallway in front of her room, when the closet door behind them starts making noises. At first it's a faint static, but then faintly you can hear someone talking, although it's obviously a man and not Stephanie. You catch "act of terrorism" and "I'm doing it for the music" among other bits. And along with the radio there is some faint groaning and the sound of something moving.

The closet door then opens and the tentacled shadow that is Stephanie walks out, although all the shadows seem to droop a little bit and the tentacles twitch at the ends and look positively edgy.

The radio is playing music, which filters through the apartment. Kalina can hear it in the kitchen, where she is still sitting with the last of the plates and bread crumbs. Hatsy is in the kitchen as well, waiting for Kalina to finish and doing her best not to look at the armored angel sitting nearby. When Stephanie walks in, Hatsy turns slightly and proceeds to back out of the way. The cape flutters back and forth when it watches Stephanie slashing open the coffee with her tendrils. And as Stephanie as adding the water, you hear the coat rack add, carefully, "I'll take some of that."

[SiuiS]

Poise, decorum. Everyone expects them to come naturally, and they do. What no one expects, or even admits, is that it only comes naturally after the training. Like a sean gracefully dancing across a pond, and never you mind it's feet viciously and violently tearin up the muck, churning away.

It is then with every aspect of her being, voice, posture, body language, that Charlotte makes a convincing stab at smooth, twitching shadow beasts descending from hall closets and slinking away being an everyday occurrence. Pay that no mind, Marchande.

"I am ready now, miss. To go shopping."

[Raz_Fox]

Stephanie looks terrible in the morning. And, apparently, Marchande looks like... a person with nice eyes and a good nose, and pigtails. Just pigtails. No ears, no long teeth, no wet black nose. If only.

Charlotte is suddenly at her side, and Marchande blinks in surprise. Where'd she come from? She'd been looking around, and now she's dressed, almost normally. And she wants to go shopping. "Shopping?" Marchande repeats, incredulously. "With whose money? I don't have any, you don't have any, and I'm sure we can't ask Charlotte's... twin to lend us some."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte moves her hands, searching or pockets. She finds them, and then pays one with her left hand before relaxing. "I'm sure I'll find some. And you promised."

[Thanqol]

No audible response, but an adjustment of the amount of coffee going into the machine. Jagged black lines snatched down a second cup and poured them both full, both rather heavy on the milk, and sliding one across to Hatsy.

Then she sat, curling up around her cup and nursing it with slow sips. The slow, bitter, approach to consciousness began.

[Raz_Fox]

"I promised?" Marchande raises an eyebrow, trying to remember when she did. But she must have. And promises are supposed to be kept, promises actually mean things, and you don't dance around the truth. "All right. Though we should ask if Kalina or Stephanie want to go."

[SiuiS]

"... Oh. Yes, oui. I had not considered that."
Charlotte deflates. Of course, they should invite the others. Stephanie was no longer just pointing out Kalina, who was no longer in mere repose. Of purse they should move as a group.

"When you are ready, miss, I will be, too."

[PhoeKun]

It was a strange thing, to eat so slowly and deliberately. Silence, that much was natural, but every day of Kalina's life that she can remember, mealtime has been a matter of madly scrambling to stuff as much down her throat as possible before trouble came (usually with a capital t). But suddenly there's no need for that, and she intended to savor it. Egg on top of toast. Deliberate, thoughtful chews. Taste. Oh gosh, taste. If only she could have known food had such a thing.

But, perhaps she took to savoring a bit too much, because by the time she stands, everyone has left the table. Worth it, at any rate. She shrugs and carries her plate over to the sink, where deposits it as gently as anyone has ever left a dish of any sort. She spares not a word or glance for either of the actual residents of the house, but makes a beeline toward Marchande and Charlotte. She catches part of the conversation, of promises and shopping.

"I can't offer any money," she begins, "But I would still be very grateful for the opportunity to wear something more complete and less... restrictive in the back. Wonderful as this coat is, it possesses neither of these qualities."

She blinks. Shopping? Is this another dream?

[Thanqol]

Stephanie had waited to see what Rose would say before coming to a decision herself. She nodded quietly. "'sec," she muttered, took a last sip of the coffee, and headed for the bathroom.

The single shaft of sunlight that came in through the window was like a jagged spike of broken glass in her eyes. She pulled the curtains shut. She really had to... go out into that?

Yeah. She did.

She moved slowly around the echoingly familiar bathroom. Everything was right where she'd left it, exactly as she'd left it. It felt like home. A place where she could relax, be herself, pick up her old routine.

She turned on the shower. Cold. She stepped in, fully clothed.

Screw routine.

She closed her eyes and looked directly at the shower head, water pouring directly into her face. It ran off the cloak without absorbing into it, smoother than a raincoat, but it soaked into her shirt, pants, socks, drenching her to the bone. Her hood fell back and the water started to soak into her tangled blonde hair.

In that moment, she found a strange kind of peace. Like all the pain and sleepiness and upset and duty just... didn't matter any more. That for a moment she genuinely didn't care.

She turned the shower off. She stood still for a moment while the last of the water ran off her, then sighed, pulled her hood back up, and went outside.

"Let's go," she said, heading for the front door, making it clear from her tone she didn't want to talk about why she was soaking wet.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte, upon Kalina's response, fills again with brightness. With Stephanie's agreement, she beams. She turns this on Marchande, highbeams, a laser of joyful expectations.

"Après vous, miss."

[Raz_Fox]

"We need money," Marchande says to herself, looking at Charlotte and Kalina and... oh, Stephanie just walked out of the apartment. "Come on," she says, briskly, following Stephanie out, stopping only enough to quickly thank the changeling. It looked like Stephanie knew where she was going, so Marchande would follow.

"Charlotte created a key, she might be able to make money," she muttered to no one in particular as she followed Stephanie. "And I, last night, I gave her a bit of... some luck. Maybe enough to fool a machine? Find a slot machine, I could probably... break the bank. Kalina? Not sure, Stephanie, not sure. Shoplift? No, no, not right. Trade. Make money. Yeah."

[Anarion]

Walking out of Stephanie's apartment during the daytime is a very different experience from the night. By the time you leave, the fog has partially burned off, so the day is a combination of blue skies and bright sunlight with low hanging clouds and wisps of mist still in the street.

You walk a few blocks back to Market street. The scene that confronts you is something else altogether. Marchande had thought the goblin market was crowded, but that was nothing compared to the mass of humanity walking the street. There are people on the brick sidewalks, which are almost wide enough to fit 10 walking abreast. In the evening fog, the scope was not so obvious, but this morning there must be several hundred people walking back and forth.

On the streets, cars, metro trains and bikes mix together, and several criss-crossing power lines make the scene even more busy. Both sides of the street are lined with some early shops. Down the street towards downtown is a mall, and closer to you is a shoe store and a golf and tennis storefront that looks like it fills two stories. Several streets come in at off diagonals leading to a confused intersection just down the block.

And, is that a gazelle wearing a blue suit near the end of the street?

[Thanqol]

On her way out, Stephanie had taken a dime from the change bowl on the shelf. It wasn't enough to buy anything, but it was enough to safeguard her if someone asked her for money.

The sunlight was agonising. It was like walking through a field of broken glass with your eyeballs. Her head pounded with a hangover she hadn't earned. Her socks squelched with water in her shoes.

She continued her sodden way, listening to Marchy natter. She rolled her eyes a little through it, and didn't bother to answer. If shoplifting was ruled out then she sure as silver didn't have anything to contribute. And everyone was walking so slow...

She blinked. Deer in suits. Now she was hallucinating. Wow, days sucked. Maybe she was dying? Maybe she was in the process of being burned to death by the sun and was only still walking out of stubborn whateverness.

She pulled her hood a little higher and sighed.

[SiuiS]

Spirits! I didn't know your life sucked that bad, Stephanie
:(

Charlotte meanders along, looking, listening, scenting the world around her. Te day is bright and blue and yellow, and the people are pressing like a sea of sardines. And why, it's a crowded market! Fortuitous, that. Or serendipitous? It had been far too long since such words truly mattered...

She slows down, frowning, breathing heavily. Of course the humans can't see them but that doesn't mean the lot of them aren't still Different. Would her words have her away? Would she slip? What would they do if they found out, anyway? Charlotte had heard, had lived too many stories not to think of all humanity as some united Other, waiting for a fault, for her to trip like a doe in the brambles... And her actions, too!

Charlotte composes herself. This is San Francisco. She isn't the only one barefoot and in jeans, is she? Nor is she the only one who moves with a group, even as strange a group as this. No, she is fine, safe. As safe as that gazelle at least. Antlers are bound to draw far more attention than a pretty young girl, non?

... Wait, antlers?

[Anarion]

Indeed, Antlers. Though as a gazelle, they aren't especially large ones, simply pointed with a slight curve coming off his head. From a distance, the gazelle man seems to be meandering at a leisurely pace, and he is turning to head into the shopping center next to the underground rail stop, which is about one block down from where you are. Nobody else in the throng of humanity seems to be reacting unusually either to this gazelle fellow or to any of you.

(That would be the Powell Street Muni Station for those with enough city awareness to recognize it.)

[Thanqol]

[You know how your eyes hurt when suddenly adjusting from dark to light? It's like that except after five years of total darkness]

Oh what the sod. She had nothing to lose right now.

Stephanie approached the deer-man, tugged on his sleeve, and said, "Excuse me, sir, are those real?"

[Anarion]

When Stephanie tugs on the sleeve, the man speaks in a gruff voice and starts to say "are what real?" but then finishes turning around and sees the shadow being holding his arm. When he gets a good look at Stephanie, his whole body tenses and he jumps back a few feet and starts talking in a frenzy while backing off further and further from Stephanie.

"Who...no, don't recognize, never seen before. Dangerous, yes, might be crazy. New changeling, can never be trusted, need to bring to court, but can't stay here. But won't be here when I get back, big city. You, darkling girl, stay here, yes? Will be back soon, meet several friends."

*His eyes start to flicker around the area and he notices the others, most especially Kalina*

"Incredible, winged ogre, beautiful specimen. Looks strong, in good physical condition. Stay here, will be back, will bring help."

At this point, he turns to leave.

[Thanqol]

"Oh. Okay!" Stephanie said, thinking this all sounded totally reasonable.

Years of bad guys being clearly marked and uniformed as bad guys, and eccentric but helpful mad scientists had made her awfully trusting in this regard.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte is intrigued. On the one hand, a gazelle man. He might be as visible to them as they were to him - as they were to each other. Her mind reeled, in the spindle-and-axle sense, computing. He was wearing a suit. Did he escape too, just recently? Coils he be mere days ahead of them, trying to blend in? or could he be an old hand (hoof?) doing what other adults did, dressing up, and going somewhere to sit and dream o home and get yelled at?

But...

The other hand, she was always there. Sometimes with a fresh-picke wildflower, sometimes just knuckles and a surprise. There was still the matter of shopping. Stephanie and Marchande had it easy. Even Kalina, resplendent in her formed armor had it okay, though her wings looked painfully bound (and Charlotte makes a note to find a way to bind down her wings un-painfully. What are friends for, after all?), but she herself... Well. She had borrowed some pants that were too snug in the bum and strangle ample at the thigh and chafed funnily, she had no shoes for the cold morning brickwork, and was lucky enough of her shift existed to give her a sense of modesty!

Well, that settles it. Gazelle man will still be in town tomorrow, but without clothes she might not survive the ni-- Gracious,Stephanie. Really?

The naive nightling moves too fast! Figuratively as well, as forward as she's being. Charlotte catches up in time to hear most of the innocuous mumbling, but only really focuses on the one part before the gazelle man leaves

"Stephanie, miss. I don't think Marchande would appreciate being a specimen. And we don't know this man's motives. We can't know what he desires with us..." Her voice is laced with reproach poorly veiling concern.

[Anarion]

The Gazelle man begins to walk away, not listening to Charlotte's questioning.

[Meaning if one of you does not act to prevent his departure now, he will leave.]

[Thanqol]

"Don't be silly, he seems -" Stephanie started, glancing at the retreating deer-man.

[Cupid's Eye: "What does he want with us?" 5 - 2 (sunlight) -0 (Surface thoughts). Tell me if he desires Stephanie so I know if I need to spend the glamour or not.

2 successes, opposed by his composure +wyrd. If Stephanie senses anything along the lines of "Sell them into slavery!" she'sa take him down with her imposing ~50kg physique.]

[Anarion]

Gazelle's desire
The Gazelle desires all of you to go to the Court. Stephanie doesn't understand where the Court is, but it feels secure.

[Thanqol]

"- legit. I don't think he's planning anything bad," said Stephanie cheerfully.

[Anarion]

Charlotte's opinion

You think the Gazelle looks scared and nervous. You don't get any sense that he's lying to you though, at least not from your read of his face or mannerisms.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte pulls in and begins to nibble at her lower lip. The gazelle man doesn't seem dangerous, an Stephanie trusts him to boot. Stephanie knew about the man with the moon...

But. But but but.
Charlotte wiggles her toes on the brick sidewalk, chewing away at her lip hole ten enthusiastic piggies do the wave. She could be shopping right now... She could have shoes! But...

"okay, miss. We will wait here. But I don't want to disappoint Marchande. She seemed so eager to go to market. And miss Kalina, too."

[Anarion]

The gazelle (you never did get his name) gives a slight nod, seeming oddly appreciative. He then runs into the shopping center as fast as, well, as a gazelle. About 20 minutes pass, when a black car pulls up. It lets out the gazelle, and another person, then pulls around the corner.

The other person is tall, thin and wiry. Literally. His, or maybe her, mien is a human head, but a body made of dark black wire, draped with velveteen cloth. He/she looks far more human than the fake Stephanie that you met, and the almost perfectly round, asexual face vaguely reminds you of Charlotte.

The Gazelle gives an anemic smile. "surprising. Still here. Made lucky find, actually follow directions. Fascinating."

The other person clears his throat, which at lets you know it's a male.

"Ah, yes. Forgetting manners. I am Timothy Small. My name at court is Swifthoof. Either is acceptable. Been assigned to you as a guide for today. Very unexpected."

[Thanqol]

Stephanie had slumped down and covered her face with her hood as soon as she'd been given the chance. After a little while of thinking she started speaking aloud while they were waiting for the deer to come back.

"Did I ever tell you about James McClaw?" she mused. It was like she was thinking aloud, rehearsing for a story she'd tell later. "I only met him three times, even though I spent five years fighting him. He had an entire global criminal enterprise filled with the greatest criminals which had ever been. Genghis Hoenzollern was the first one I met and I've been trying to remember what happened to him..."

She lapsed into silence.

"It doesn't feel like it... fits. Like the rules changed. I think he changed them without knowing what he was changing them into."

She was quiet again until the deer arrived again. Then she looked up, orange eyes out of the pool of shadows and darkness inside the hood.

"I am Khoyshekh," she pronounced it Coy-Sheek. "And I kind of thought I was back in the real world for a minute there," she said with an edge of sadness.

[PhoeKun]

"Of course the rules changed. Once they pull away the curtain, you can't keep pretending you're still in the play..."

Kalina smolders in the silence, waiting on the streets instead of shopping or watching or working toward any kind of a living. Waiting for a gazelle in a suit. Little bits and pieces of glass from a shattered life twinkling brilliantly in the warm San Francisco light - beautiful and dangerous. Her grip on the two-by-four tightens.

The gazelle returns, bringing with it a wire frame and a smarmy comment about listening to directions. Stephanie makes a comment about 'the real world', and... CRACK! Kalina looks down at the splintered wood in her hands. She tosses it aside and shakes her head.

No. Enough of that. There's too much riding on this to get carried away by anger and shame over every little word or event. Take a deep breath. Behave. Compose yourself like a normal person, or you'll never get to be one.

"...You may call me Rose." She offers stiffly. For some reason, she can't stop thinking about her dream.

[Anarion]

Swifthoof's ears droop after the introductions. "Yes, real world. Less...real than expected. You...are back though. Best not to forget, yes, best to always remember...and Rose...beautiful name, beautiful soul. Exceptional, yes...
...Now, if you are all willing, Lady of Spring wishes to meet you. Very generous, very beautiful. Afterwards, will show you around court for the afternoon. Spacious, Spring frequently has best quarters." His eyes are noticeably brighter talking about Spring. "Car parked around the block, very busy street, can't stop for more than a few seconds."

He turns and gestures for you to follow him. The wire man, however, never takes his eyes off the party.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie jumped when the wood broke. She stood for a moment, struggling for context, and then received a rather unhelpful explanation from Hoofy. "Sure, whatever you say," she murmured. She felt like she was drifting without context and just wanted to follow a clear story, see where it lead.

[SiuiS]

Wood cracks. Charlotte sighs.

Is this real? This is real. Not this, the world of windows and mannequins and card and gazelles in suits. She was lucid enough, for the nonce, that she didn't quite trust her own judgement yet, worried she was still asleep.

But this, the group, the small dynamic group. This relationship, this was real. the wood could be anything, but that Kalina - Rose - was here and broke the wood because of something Swifthoof had said, that was important.

"You... You can tell us more, sir? About us, this? You can help? May we finish shopping first? My feet hurt, sir. We've been running for so long, ever since the fields of light and glass." Charlotte stops biting her lip and clasps her hands behind the loops of her stolen jeans, guileless.

[Anarion]

Swifthoof turns and looks back at the wire man, who gives a slight shake of his head, then turns back to Charlotte with a slightly desperate look in his eyes. "Please, would be better if you came with us first. Much better. Can find you clothes after. Lady of Spring sure to provide beautiful clothes." *Gestures around the corner "Hurry, car parked right over there."

[Raz_Fox]

Not even a window works. That's rather disappointing. She still looks like a dog, has a dog's face, dog's ears, dog's tail between her legs. At least the suit is a very good suit. She looks at herself in the shop window, smoothing down the suit, trying to be proud of herself.

She lost them, she realizes. Blast.

She turns, ducking through the crowd, still lost in thought. She looks the part, but she doesn't have the money, the poise, the- why is there a gazelle.

"What did I miss?" Marchande asks, one eyebrow raised.

[PhoeKun]

Kalina cracks her neck and looks at Marchande. She looks... tired. Like a great weight is pressing down on her and she desperately needs to set it aside for at least a moment and catch her breath.

"This gazelle and the wire frame are offering us a car ride to see somebody calling herself the Lady of Spring. They promise information and the possibility of new clothes. All I can really tell you is that Stephanie trusts them."

Rose glances over in Stephanie's general direction for a moment.

"That is enough for me. I think it will be... important that we follow them."

Kalina takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. She walks over to Charlotte, and wordlessly picks her up and cradles her in her arms.

"If your feet are weary, allow them to rest."

[SiuiS]

"Oh!"

There is a strange vertigo to this, that Charlotte may never get used to. She is not for the moment sure if that is good or bad, or frightening, or wonderful. She is sure, however, that despite her composure there is a heat to her face.

Wondering for a moment just how blushing would even work - she had no colors but silver and gold, after all - was distraction enough to keep it isolated. She relaxes, drifting as if Rose's arms were a hammock, and catches her breath.

"Thank you, miss Rose."

[Anarion]

With Charlotte in hand, Kalina marches around the corner and towards the car, with Marchande and Stephanie following in tow. Swifthoof opens the car doors and allows them to slip inside, then takes a seat in front. The wire man nods and steps to the side, staying outside the car. When you get in, you can see that the driver appears to be a regular human, a balding, middle-aged fellow with a bit of a pot-belly. He's dressed in business casual, dark slacks and a dark collared shirt with a driving cap.

When he sees the group, he gives a tip of the hat to everyone. "Quite the group you've brought in, darkling, ogre, beast, and fairest, is that right Tim?"

Swifthoof says "Appears to be correct. Observant as ever Bob. Ready to see the Lady now, may need you to drive again after."

Bob gives a brief nod, puts down the clutch, and starts down a side street. "You'll have to forgive the roundabout route, they went and closed down Market to most cars in the lower downtown, so I've got to loop around to get where we're going."


***

You drive for about 15 minutes, going down a couple streets, followed by a right turn, then another right turn, crossing back over Market higher up and then going down a different street that's at about a 45 degree angle to market. Bob and Swifthoof make smalltalk during that time, mostly discussing the weekend celebration, and whether Bob plans to take his family to the company barbecue before the bridge celebration.

The car eventually pulls up to an old downtown building a couple blocks from the bay and lets you all out. The facade is stone with some Roman columns in the ionic style and the interior is a spectacular black and white diamond art deco pattern. The door is gilded and carved with scenes that look like cupid and a couple of young lovers.

The guard at the door is an ogre in the most classic style. Although he's wearing a tan security uniform, he has a grey, hunched form that looks far too big for his clothing. When he sees Swifthoof, he nods and calls an elevator.

Swifthoof leads all of you into the elevator, and up to the 10th floor of the building, then out and into a corridor, also with carved stone walls showing scenes of lovers from mythology. There are a few closed doors that apparently lead to side rooms, but the main corridor goes straight, and then opens out in a wide dining hall.

***

The dining hall is decorated with several Chinese screens, showing cherry and plum blossoms, and other spring flowers. The carpet is red and gold with a dragon motif, and the wall hangings, in contrast to the greek mythology up to this point, show young Asian lovers, mating birds, and yet more spring flowers or flowering mountainsides. In the right corner of the room from the door, there is a string quartet playing a version of Gao Shan Liu Shui (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoWyLYSPNEU) arranged for two violins, viola, and cello. The smell of frying pork fills the air. A glance at the windows shows they look out to a stunning view of the Bay and the cities in the East Bay region.

There are several tables, but for the moment, they are nearly all empty. Aside from the quartet, there is only a single occupied table in the center of the room. This table is occupied by a dragon woman. Her hair is the deepest milky black and falls into shadows around skin...no, not skin, scales, white as milk that cover every visible bit of skin. Every joint and bend in her body is sharply angled and you detect some subtle spines around her neck. Her eyes are green and glow with an inner fire. She's wearing a western style red dress, ruffled, about 3/4 length falling below the knees, and with a shoulder covering but no sleeves.

When you enter, the woman beckons you all to join her at her table. In a low, sibilant voice, she says "welcome, cast off souls, to my Court of Spring. Join me, and partake for one moment in the pleasures of beauty and rest. Tell me your stories and then, perhaps we shall see if we can bring some of your desires to fulfillment."



Stephanie only
There is one other detail you notice as you enter the room. One of the screens is shifted, and you notice what looks to be a sliding wall panel that is cracked open just a quarter inch.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie did a bit of a double take as Rose picked up Charlotte. It served the purpose of distracting her from being miserable, but served the alternate purpose of not being sure what to do with that information and so spending a lot of the car ride feeling vaguely awkward.

She remained quiet and vaguely confused right up until the point when they came up into the Chinese restaurant. And then, as the sunlight faded away into the dark and smoky interior, everything came together at the same time for her.

This was the start of something. She saw that clearly. A whole new world had just opened up. She'd faltered in her run, doubted, and been punished accordingly. And now... now everything was back to normal.

She smiled. Grinned. Everything unpleasant was clearly thrust to the back of her mind and tossed aside. She was meeting a beautiful dragon in a Chinese opium den. She knew exactly what to do here.

She bowed; a genuinely respectful gesture, hands clasped, not too low and not too high, form showing that she'd done the research on this. "Stories I have a'plenty, Lady Dragon," she said, relaxed and calm, "but when I tell this one, who shall I say I was addressing?"

[Anarion]

A twitch at the corner of her mouth betrays the slightest hint of a smile. "It is usually polite for guests to introduce themselves, but since you ask so nicely; For the time that I rule, I am the Lady of Spring, Queen of the Court of San Francisco, Herald of cherry blossoms, and Steward of Desire. I am called in court Qian Long [pronounced Chi-en Loong], and I leave it to you to discover the meaning of that if it is your desire. Now, to whom do I have the pleasure of addressing myself?"

[Thanqol]

"My name is Khoyshekh," Stephanie said. "Bit short on titles, but to me the work is it's own reward."

She decided to take a bit of a gamble in hopes of impressing the Dragoness. She looked over at the sliding panel she'd noticed opening. "Isn't your friend cold back there?"

[Anarion]

Without even looking where Stephanie is gesturing, the Lady says "Oh no, that section of the building is well-insulated. Roderigo, why don't you come out and bring our guests some refreshments?"

A lithe dark thing comes out of the hole. It's more well-formed than Stephanie, more of a black-outlined man wearing loose clothing, also in black but with a spiraling green dragon imprinted on the sleeves. He walks with a certain smooth elegance to his step, bows to the Lady, and then moves past the motley and into one of the side doors, coming back in with a wooden basket containing various steamed buns.

"Now," the Lady says, "please finish your introductions, have a seat, and tell me of yourselves."

[Raz_Fox]

Beast.

That one word was capable of leaving Marchande seething for the entire trip, save for a curt dismissal of that claim, and polite introductions when required. Even those were curt and rather forced. Everything was moving rather quickly, and she felt it was better for her to come to a full decision about what was happening - before making a decisive action, of course.

Beast. Thricedamned sons of tawdry whoremongers, to use the servants' phrasing, how dare they call her a beast? Beasts were monstrous, animalistic, frightening and base; she was nothing of the sort. She wore clothes, she spoke, she looked after her family - let them go shove barge poles up their... blast, she was growling under her breath. No. Bad Marchande. No growling.

And so they came to a dragon. What more needs to be said? It moved like a dragon and wore formal clothing; its lair was filled with rather overdone pictures of naive lovers, trusting and stupid. And there was something about her - her overdone, opulent taste in fashion, her hissing voice, her melodramatic introduction - that made Marchande's hair bristle. She wanted to turn around and leave, right that moment. Trusting those ill-mannered louts to bring them somewhere decent had apparently been too much to ask.

And then Stephanie stepped forward, and Marchande wished she could pull the young woman off to the side and discuss the whole wrong situation with her. This... Marchande was going to have to navigate through this on her own, wasn't she? Rose probably wouldn't be subtle, and Charlotte was, well, probably happy to be here. They should have just stuck with the shopping.

"Marchande," she says, when the dragon woman asks for introductions. She does not sit down. Her back is stiff, her ears pulled back, and she is all on edge, her suit all sharp and sleek.

[Thanqol]

Score! Take that, Riggy!

As Stephanie waited for everyone else to finish, she found herself staring at the dragon lady. What was it like to have scales, she wondered? They looked smooth, shining - and sharp. She thought she could cut herself if she ran her hand along those scales the wrong way. But they also looked soft, and that was the most fascinating thing to her. The way the dragon lady sat, the way her arms folded, they seemed to bend like fabric. And they shined, too. Like opals. They were only white until you looked at them properly.

Maybe the scales were only sharp until you looked at them properly? Did they work like armour or were they too delicate for that? She'd once seen a snake at a petting zoo, and even touched it - it's skin felt dry and papery. She wondered if hers would be the same. She'd fought ceilingdiles and dinosaurs and gorriladactyls but had generally avoided touching them in favour of fleeing so that one snake was the only real reference point she had.

She flicked her head back, pulling down her hood and letting her hair spill out over her shoulders. It was an unconscious gesture of relaxation and trying to put her best foot forward, look good for the new people.

[SiuiS]

Curious. Stephanie, now aglow with with twisted braids of violet spilling through her blueblack form, smiling. Did she realize the change in mood came with a change in light?

Perhaps it was the sunlight and not the journey that had we out of sorts. Charlotte files that away, storing the mental image in a drop of few on a spider's thread.

Story, story... She didn't really have a story, wasn't sure of it. But their host so graciously had asked, and she wanted to do something, anything, to lighten Kalina's mood. Oh, but she had missed breakfast, and the sweet buns...

Baise.

Stephanie was here, and relaxed. Qian seemed like a rather hospitable, like able sort of fairy tale horror, and if anyone was going to set Marchande at ease - the poor girl's hackles were actually up - it wasn't going to be miss Muffet's Spider in her hoodie.

Charlotte waits for Roderigo to pass, and deftly acquires a bun. Just one, to satiate. The desire to consume the thing, to skip the revel and feed, was almost overpowering. But a lady does not gape like a fish, she reminds herself, and besides she can't even if she wants, the threads see to that. And so Charlotte eats the bun like a koi fish suckles algae, or a cricket drinks the dew.

Charlotte savors the bun, but it is a quick favoring. She ends the meal, sucking any remaining crumbs delicately from her fingers before composing herself for introductions. stand, step, curtsy. "They call me Charlotte, Madame. Thank you for your hospitality."

[Anarion]

The Lady gives a curt nod to Marchande, and smiles pleasantly while Charlotte eats her bun. After the introduction, she says, "You are quite welcome, Charlotte, it is always a pleasure to entertain such pleasant guests." *Slight glance towards Marchande.*

She then looks towards Kalina, "and who might you be, fairest of fair ladies?"

[PhoeKun]

Kalina is forced to stop and... stare at everything around her. A pageant of the bizarre, of the Other swims and dances around her, swirling around a dragon masquerading as a Queen. Or... no, that's not how things work on this side. A Dragon Queen, then.

Rose glances awkwardly upward at the seated Lady, holds one hand over her breast, and bows. Habits beaten into her from years and years of stage play assert themselves and make her actions automatic.

"I am... not half so fair as that, My Lady," her face burns as she continues, "But you may call me K-- may call me... Rose. My companions and I have been running from a lot of things. Maybe you understand. What we want is... what I want is... well, just tell me what is happening and where we are and what do we do to... live? I don't remember how. I think that maybe I never knew."

Verbosity is uncomfortable. In the heat of the day, so is this coat. She fidgets. "I apologize for any indiscretion in what I am about to do..."

And the coat comes off, that perfect act of kindness sent fluttering to the floor. Rose is resplendent in her armor, gleaming in the light. Perfect white wings flare and stretch stiffly, making her seem much larger than she is. She quickly takes a knee. Clears her throat. Sighs, and starts over.

"...Above all, I think what we require is more fitting clothing."

[Anarion]

Qian Long almost lets out a gasp when she sees Kalina's wings in their full resplendence. Her mouth forms into the proper shape, and there's a hint of breath taken in before she regains her composure.

Then she smiles broadly.

"Ah, I am so glad you asked. Roderigo!" *The lithe darkling returns to the Lady's side.* "Our guests have requested proper clothing. Please bring them each something fitting to wear for now. We shall have formal gowns made in the future, certainly in enough time for the Mistflame Ball to mark the rise of summer."

*Roderigo hustles off*

"Now, as to your other questions, angelic Rose, I invite you all to sit and listen. It will take some time."

*Waits for party to take seats at the table, will continue after a few minutes regardless*

"We are, one and all, refugees. We have escaped a land beyond comprehension, from cruel and capricious masters." She eyes the motley "Yes, most of you understand," *she looks oddly at Stephanie* "how they toy with us, manipulate us. We were never more than playthings to them. Yet, escaping, we find that we are changed. Our souls may remain intact, but our bodies and even our minds are permanently altered. You may, as well, have seen the things that took your place in this world. Mockeries of the lives we once held."

*she breathes a small gout of flame, then composes herself*

"But you, you are lucky. For your escape did not lead you just anywhere, but to the Court of San Francisco. I would humbly suggest, the greatest Changeling Court in the world. Oh, New York and London may claim more members, but they lack our focus, our cohesion...but, as I was saying, you were brought here, to one of the greatest Changeling freeholds in the world, a place where we can provide you safety, succor, and a new life and purpose. In exchange, the court asks for your loyalty, a limited amount of service, and that you provide aid to other Changelings who call for help in dire need.

I won't ask you to swear that oath just yet. I'm sure that you have many questions I can answer and that you'll need time to think and discuss amongst yourselves. However, before we continue further, I would ask you to swear an oath to me of your good intentions, as I shall swear mine to you.

To do each other no harm, one day of trust to form a bond between us, but poison to she who breaks her oath."

[offered oath: minor forbiddance (don't harm other changelings in court) -1, adroitness to persuasion (adds one die to persuasion rolls) +1, poison the boon -1, one day duration +1]

[Thanqol]

"Sounds fair. Deal!" Stephanie said without thinking about it. She actually had clothing that fit her, raided from the Fetch's wardrobe, but they were cheap and not particularly stylish. Also they were still wet and cold, that sucked. What she wanted in terms of clothes was something warm, innocuous, that didn't get in the way too much during acrobatics.

Also? Also the dragon lady could breathe fire. That was the coolest thing ever.

"But, uh, I never really had a master or anything, and Hatsy seems all right. And I came back because I wanted to, not because I escaped. Maybe I went to a different place from the rest of you?" Stephanie said. The place that the dragon lady was talking about sounded awful.

[Anarion]

The Lady looks at Stephanie oddly. "You have accepted the oath, so you are welcome here for the day. But your case was indeed a strange one, I can sense the honesty in your voice. I can only conclude that your keeper was playing a game, and you escaped its confines before he grew bored of it."

[Thanqol]

"My what?" Stephanie said. "I didn't have a 'keeper'. I was fighting crime."

[Anarion]

"Yes, of course you were fighting crime. How silly of me to think otherwise."

Qian Long has a very slightly pitying look as she says that.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie felt vaguely resentful at this, like she was being treated like a fool. "Just because your freaky magical adventure was horrible doesn't mean everyone's was, you know. The moment I wanted to leave I left and nothing stopped me."

[Anarion]

When Stephanie says "it doesn't mean everyone's was," Qian Long simply gives a look around to each of the other three members of the Motley, long enough that Stephanie might follow her gaze to each of them in turn.

[Raz_Fox]

When Rose kneels, Marchande can't contain herself. She hisses, "Oh, will you get up?" Just loud enough for the dragon lady to hear, of course. And she does not sit, but stands by Charlotte, listening with an air of detachment.

Fact: she had been replaced by something, if the dragon lady was right, and Stephanie's case was common. Perhaps by the slave-taker. That needed to be addressed.
Fact: there were more like her. Many more, if she were to be believed. All over the world. How long had the world been like this? How many people, every day, had she passed by, unable to see their changes?
Fact: she knows this game. There's a world of difference between the four of them, all banded together, and this. She was not going to dance to the dragon's tune- because that's what it would be.
Fact: the dragon was more powerful. The dragon had money and servants and they could be used. And even though Marchande didn't want to work with her, everyone else needed that - money, a strong friend, and purpose. Especially Rose.

So she'd play along.

Marchande sits as Stephanie and the dragon argue over Stephanie's... unusual stay in Faerie. And, in a lull, she says, sitting straight-backed and proper, "I will not harm yours if you do not harm mine. Harm, of course, including entrapment or betrayal. And, if you don't mind me asking- not to be rude, Stephanie, but- a Court has a ruler. You are Lady Spring. Are the other seasons in attendance, or is it merely a... title?"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte fidgets. Listening to this all is uncomfortable, like having your childhood movies played, and then the screen is smeared with vaseline - everything is greasy and distorted and wrong. It is not something she wants to think about.

And so a subject change is in order.

Moving closer, placing her hand on Stephanie's shoulder as if to cut in to the dance. "This promise. If we refuse?" her voice tinged plainly with frank curiosity. It is uncertain if she even understands the promise at all.

[Anarion]

The Lady shows no sign of noticing that she heard what Marchande said when Kalina wad kneeling. But when Marchande is the first to actually sit, her smile broadens, and when Marchande swears the oath, her smile broadens further and she gives Marchande her full attention.

"No, far more than a title. I rule the court. Alone. But only for this season of spring. In another month, we shall hold the Mistflame Ball and I shall formally present the crown to the King of summer. He holds the Shadow Hunt during August and jointly plans the Indian Market with the King of Fall, who assumes power during the market's 3-day street festival in September. Fall holds its own version of this nation's Thanksgiving Feast in November, and jointly plans the Holiday Formal near Christmas, during which the crown is handed to the Queen of Winter. There is the hour of Doldrums in the end of January, and then Winter and I jointly plan the Cherry Blossom Ball for March, wherein I receive my power.

Though you may not desire such formality at this moment, it is a necessary tool for our lives here. You come to me wearing a suit, so I think, perhaps, you can understand the desire to be formal, to hold the symbols of power, after leaving the places we have left."

*During this answer, Roderigo arrives back to the room, bearing several bundles. He first comes to Stephanie, where he hands her a pair of what look to be fitted blue jeans, a turqoise long-sleeved t-shirt, and a San Francisco giants hoodie made of thick cotton. He also begins taking out bundles for the others.*

[Anarion]

As Roderigo is handing out the clothes to Stephanie, the Lady hears Charlotte's question and says. "If you refuse, I shall ask you to leave. You may return when you feel more amenable to making such a promise. It shall also be made known to the court that you refused to make a simple promise of safety, and neither I nor anyone else shall bear responsibility for any consequences that might arise out of such a reputation."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte blinks. Something is important here. Something...
Qian responds, but it's somehow discongruous, like Charlotte is back again where dreams make more sense than reality. Was that malice? Matter-of-fact? Coercive, hopeful, forlorn? How does one read a dragon?

This. This oath. It hits like water washing over her, only reverse; the notion an then the acclimation. Any 'she' who breaks the oath suffers. It a leash. But Marchande accepts. These promises are important. Just... Stated, open. Explici, like the leather is worn and tattered, and there is no trust in it.

Marchande accepts the bonds. Stephanie goes along. Kalina, who kneels.

It all hinges on the small details. Charlotte and Qian Long are connected here, now, in this moment. But how, exactly? And who is holding the reins? Her? Or Charlotte herself? How does one read a dragon? Charlotte knows not dragons, not for sure, but a queen? A queen is absence defined in shape by the ties aroun her.

attempt to feel the tenor of the conversation. Charlotte's response hinges on how much 'swear or you're screwed' is intended, since as far as she knows the path binds her while Roderigo could gleefully hatchet the lot of them (being neither a She nor involved in the oath)

Empathy+manipulation+willpower, and the scene falls under perfect protocol as Changeling court and a business meeting, so I'll use a remaining point of glamour for the additional +2 on manipulation and presence for the rest of the scene.

This is hopefully a lot of firepower used unnecessarily for a rather small problem :smalltongue:

[Thanqol]

When Stephanie says "it doesn't mean everyone's was," Qian Long simply gives a look around to each of the other three members of the Motley, long enough that Stephanie might follow her gaze to each of them in turn.

Stephanie considered this a low blow, and hurtful, and not indicative of anything. Maybe everyone who went on a good adventure stayed there? Maybe it was just the ones who had awful things happen to them who came back?

She clenched her fists and looked away. The certainty she'd briefly had was gone, and her headache was coming back. She was sick of all this.

[Anarion]

Charlotte
The woman is not only a dragon and you're unused to reading changelings (this penalty is going away soon, as Charlotte is getting a lot of experience at this), but she is especially skilled and cool in social situations. Now that you think about it, nearly every expression she made has been controlled and purposeful. Charlotte is also about be notably distracted. -5 on the roll. However, since you blew the bank on this one, you still end up with 7 dice. Go ahead and roll that.

As Charlotte is studying Qian Long, Roderigo finishes handing Stephanie her clothing and moves to Charlotte. For Charlotte, there is quite a pile. Roderigo first hands her a white cotton undershirt, some black lace stockings that go up just below the knee, and a pair of white underwear edged with a bit of lace as well. Below that is a white, long-sleeved blouse. The blouse has significant embroidery on the front, with raised stitching forming an image of a flower growing up from the bottom of the shirt and blooming just below the shoulders. It's the same color as the blouse, so the stiching is a subtle, rather than blaring pattern. Accompanying the blouse is a navy-blue skirt that goes down just below the ankles. The skirt has a slight flair outwards and is designed to have several ruffles and frills when worn, but no other decoration. There is a pair of tall leather riding boots, black, with a short heel and long laces that work their way up the front. And finally, a deep brown overcoat, like something you might see Catherine Hepburn wearing back in the 1950s, full length, with a small bit of mother-of-pearl inlaid on the buttons that just barely shows a hint of a rainbow when it catches the light just perfectly.


After unloading all of that, Roderigo moves to Marchande and hands her two small velvet boxes. In one, there is a pair of silver cufflinks, shaped like twin daffodils. In the other, a platinum necklace arranged in a pattern of two entwining bands of metal, somewhat like growing ivy.

Finally, Roderigo moves to Kalina and hands her a single full dress, made of wool, dyed in a deep forest green that is nearly black. The back has been cut and sewn with proper wing slits, the top is long-sleeved and goes over the shoulders, and the bottom falls comfortably below the knees so as not to hinder movement.


While all this is being handed out, Qian Long stares expectantly at Charlotte and glances at Kalina as well, waiting for a formal affirmation of their oaths.

[Anarion]

Charlotte
Qian Long is being sincere in what she's saying. There isn't any kind of hidden manipulation or secret agenda carried in her tone that you can detect. There is a sense of power behind her words, however. You get the sense that she did not believe she was exaggerating when she said San Francisco was the greatest Court in the world. And all of her mannerisms indicate a woman who is used to getting what she wants. Her emotional state appears calm. She is not angry, excited, or agitated in any detectable way.

[SiuiS]

A simple oath. Well, simple as any oath. Binding.

Qian was queen, but she wasn't Queen, as little sense as that distinction woul make to another. She filled a position; the position was important and AI she was important. But she knew the position is where the importance came from, and allowed herself to be wielded. That was comforting, at least, to know that if this was just another story that the dragon lady was as much actor as they, as caught up in the tale as they.

And these... Such nice gifts, able to capture even Charlotte's fractious attention. Different depths and textures, and more importantly they were clothes. Even if she couldn't remember why they were so important anymore, she has them now at last. And all that sat on the table was whether to accept such hospitality graciously. Even being set up for disaster had its rules, after all, and no one liked the person who ruined a good tale.

Charlotte's fingers drift around the bundle, taking meticulous notes even as her mind was elsewhere. To her side, Kalina. Kalina had knelt. Does the acceptance of the oath have to be verbal, she wonders? Was Charlotte the last to respond, holding up the play?

Panic. Inflating in her chest like a balloon, dark and choking was panic. She had friends now and that was important to her, but maybe it wasn't important to them, maybe it was only as important as what she brought to the table? Charlotte would have to keep up, if only for her... Crew. Clique. Group?

Her head shakes, barely. "I know not who is of your court, but they are as safe from me as I from them, Madame; I accept."

[Anarion]

*Kalina gives a small nod from her bow and, at Qian Long's gesture, rises and takes a seat where directed.*

Qian Long then turns to address the remainder of the group. "I am so pleased you all wish to stay. Not every Changeling is so well-balanced upon their return from the hedge. I hope that you all enjoy your gifts. They are yours to keep no matter the results of this meeting. A gesture from the Court of Spring that this world should be filled with beauty.

Now that we may speak freely, I wish you to understand why you are here, and why I was somewhat insistent on an oath of safety. You may remember, from your time in Faerie, that one cannot always trust one's senses, and the madness of the realm often infects others. Yet oaths, promises, customs, and traditions are things that bind of all, even our Fae overlords, should they come seeking our return. Thus, the Court of San Francisco will demand your oath of fealty, that all may be safe. We act fairly, giving to each responsibility proportionate to her rank and talents, and we keep one another safe through a system of marked havens and respect for words of peace and brotherhood. Hierarchy can be strict at times, as it needs must be for those who have lost their clarity of perspective and have naught else to cling to. But you have come across to me as women of merit, and there will be great opportunities for you, if you join.

Now, I again give you the chance to ask questions of me. For the next hour, whatever you wish to know about myself, my compatriots, or the Court as a whole, I shall do my best to answer honestly to the extent of my knowledge. I assure you, there is no question that would cause me offense, though I may not be able to answer every question you ask."

[Thanqol]

"Uh, why should I swear a magically binding oath forcing me to do whatever you want me to do?" was Stephanie's first question. It wasn't the first question she'd normally ask - heck, normally she'd just go along with this and see where it lead - but she was feeling bitter and slighted.

[Anarion]

Qian Long looks taken aback. "Why, it's not an oath that forces you to do anything I want. Or that anyone else wants but you. It's an oath of fealty." *Looks at Stephanie and decides to use smaller words* "Fealty is like loyalty. It means you want to help the person you swore the oath to. And that you know they'll help you when you need it. It's like a good friend asking you for a favor because they know you're good at something, and later on when you need a favor, they'll be glad to help you too.

You should swear to our Court because it's very large, and can help you in many ways. Not just clothes, either. We have several well-connected members. We can provide a fake id, if you need one, and food and shelter in most places in the city. We have all sorts of interesting information and fun jobs that I think you would enjoy, and we have beautiful balls, masks, and goblin markets during every season."

[Thanqol]

"Hangon, what? So I swear an oath to do someone else a favour? Or is it like an alliance? And you said there's a hierarchy, do I have to be loyal to [I]those guys as well?" Stephanie said, trying to muddle this out. "I'm not swearing some blanket thing to everyone who might be a member of your extended family. Who does what in exchange for what?"

[SiuiS]

"She means, you must promise to be her friend before she will let you in her house, miss." Charlotte says, still somewhat distracted by the bundle in her arms. "May I have somewhere to change, Madame?"

[Thanqol]

"Promising to be her friend is different from swearing eternal allegiance to some enormous shadowy pyramid scheme," Stephanie said.

[SiuiS]

Charlotte shakes her head slowly, frowning. "No, miss. It's... Like getting marred. You join the family, and the oath make them take care of you as well." She looks to Qian, curious. "Everyone in court takes this oath?"

[Thanqol]

Stephanie blushed bright red. "I'm not getting married! We haven't even had dinner and a movie yet!"

[SiuiS]

Charlotte, for her part, endeavors to hide a fit of giggling.

[Anarion]

Qian Long politely puts her hand to her mouth to stifle a slight giggle as well. After regaining her composure (and Charlotte is not quite certain she ever lost it), she says "Yes, everyone takes the oath. We rotate kings and queens for the seasons, so even I have sworn my allegiance to the others. Nor is it permanent. Although each king or queen serves for life or until the freehold asks for the monarch's abdication (that means to stop being king or queen), every other member of the freehold reswears the oath at the change of seasons, which means each oath lasts only about 3 months. However, almost noone has abandoned the freehold after experiencing its benefits. There have only been two in the last decade, and they were...odd...cases.

As for your question about who has to obey whom. There is some complexity to that and even the king or queen is not absolute. It would depend what job you were doing. Imagine if your friend asks for a favor and asks you to do it a certain way. Surely, you wouldn't ignore your friend's request and do it a totally different way? But you wouldn't say that your friend can give you orders, just because she asked for a favor in a certain way."

*After answering the question, she gestures to Roderigo again.*
"Kindly show Ms. Charlotte to a changing room, would you Roderigo. The rest of you, please have a bite to eat or feel free to change yourselves while we wait."

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, okay I kind of get that stuff," Stephanie said, "but with this thing I've got to say that all the people in your creepy organisation are my friends and I've got to do all kinds of stuff just because they ask for it and I don't want to spend the rest of my life guarding doors like the guy downstairs or doing whatever Riggy does. Even if I don't have to do it in a certain way because you asked nicely or whatever."

[Anarion]

"If you don't want to guard doors, you won't have to guard doors. And Roderigo does many jobs, he's only waiting on me for today as a sort of break, if you will." *Roderigo gives a slight nod.* "Why don't you tell me what you like to do, and I'll tell you if we have work that might suit you?"

[Thanqol]

"Uh, running, jumping, climbing, infiltrating, spying, stealing, escaping, sabotaging, sneaking," Stephanie ticked them all off on her fingers and realised she had one finger left. She thought for a moment, then said, "Not having to be outside during the day."

Seemed like a good list.

"So what you're actually saying is that I don't have to do anything I don't want to, even if some guy in your pyramid scheme who's higher ranked than me tells me to? Or that I only have to do stuff related to my job? Why can't we work this out as a job rather than a weird broad fealty thing? Because for all I know one of your people is a complete jerkbag and I'll have to do everything he says or be magically punished and there's a difference between swearing to you and swearing to that guy."

[Anarion]

"No, I can't guarantee you'll never have to do something you don't like. Someone else might be doing something very important and need everyone to help, even if you don't like it. Is that really so terrible? We're offering you food, shelter, and almost any help you ask for, in exchange for mostly doing work you enjoy and sometimes having to do something unpleasant. And if you are working with a, jerk, as you say, then you could come to me, or to any of the kings and queens, as well as various members of the nobility and tell them that you don't want to work with a particular person.

However, I believe you were met by a certain person that looked like a wire man earlier today, correct?" *Looks at Swifthoof, who has taken up position just outside the room, and who nods in response.* "Yes, if your talent is speed and infiltration, I'm quite sure that he'll have enough work to prevent you from having to take on any other responsibilities, if that's what you want. If you join, I'll let him make his own introduction, I'm sure he would prefer that. Winters can be so stoic sometimes." *blows just a bit of sparks and smoke.*

*She takes one of the steamed buns on the table and begins chewing it, quite daintily given her rows of sharp teeth.*

[Gonna wait a bit here for SuiS and Raz, and Phoe if she is so inclined. I want to give everyone a chance to change, ask a couple of their own questions, and all be back in the room.]

[Thanqol]

"Yeah, this is kind of a problem because you might need me to kill people or poison the water supply or marry someone -" the thought was still in her mind "- and I can't just agree to any or all of that and just kind of hope you're going to order me to do the right thing."

[Anarion]

[One more quickie answer. So bored right now.]

"Make that clear and you won't be asked to do it. If you try to look brave and fool others into asking for things you won't do, that is your own mistake."

[Raz_Fox]

Flowers. Really? And not even a type she could readily recognize. Still, everyone knew that cufflinks completed a suit, so she affixed them to her suit as Stephanie and their host argued. Good to see that Stephanie wasn't blindly trotting ahead.

The necklace, on the other hand, was far nicer. And almost too pricey to accept. But given in good faith, how could she not take it? If - as she half-guessed - they intended to manipulate them into service by pointing to those gifts as favors owed, Marchande at least knew she had the poise to simply return them and walk away.

"I have two questions," she interjects as smoothly as she can in between Stephanie's argument. "First, and most importantly, have you noticed any disappearances from the University? I was... abducted... there by something posing as a teacher, and I don't know if it's still there. Secondly. Changelings? I thought those were the things left in our place. Even I know those stories - the fairies take a baby away, leave a changeling in their place. We are... something else."

[Thanqol]

"Even if McClaw's evil organisation of crime never orders me personally to shoot a cop, McClaw's evil organisation of crime shoots cops as a matter of course and therefore I will never work for McClaw's evil organisation of crime!" Stephanie said, managing to say the entire thing without stumbling over her words once. "I am not making an open ended promise to a mystery pyramid scheme that I know nothing about! I am not making promises to people I don't know and have never met! It's not happening!"

She'd kind of raged a little past Marchande there but she was still upset that she was being asked to do this.

[Anarion]

Qian Long switches smoothly back and forth between the questions.

"No, we have not noticed anything odd at the university. It's probable that your keeper posed as a teacher and later replaced the teacher with a fetch when the keeper grew bored. I will send someone to investigate."

She takes out an iPhone and begins typing into it. Without looking up, she addresses Stephanie. "My dear, we are not a criminal organization. We have some people that acquire information so that we can keep ourselves safe. You could help with that. But this," she gestures around the room, "this was rented through honest hard work by several of our members. I really don't know what you think you're dealing with here, but all I'm trying to offer you is a home and some work that you'll enjoy. All we ask in exchange is your promise to be loyal."

Then back to Marchande "Ah, you know I don't know when we first started using the terms. We call the things that replaced you a Fetch, the monsters that kidnapped us are Keepers or True Fae, and we refer to ourselves as the changelings, as we are the ones who were changed. I wonder if there was a mistranslation at some point, perhaps from German to English, that would have led to the stories getting it backwards."

[SiuiS]

Charlotte wrinkles her nose at Stephanie's insistence on work. She could prove that wrong right now.

"You do not come here and then want to go home the whole time, do you Roderigo?"

She proceeds dutifully to the changing nook, whatever his answer may be.

[Anarion]

Charlotte and Marchande notice an almost imperceptible nod from Qian Long before Roderigo answers.

"I consider it a privilege to wait on the Queen of Spring herself" he says with very crisp, unaccented English. "As for the remainder of my days," you see the inky blackness roil a bit out of the shape of a man then back in, "I am very rarely bored."

[Thanqol]

"No." said Stephanie. "No, that's a bad deal. I refuse."

That looked like it had seriously hurt her to say. She pulled her hood up to cover her face. She dropped the clothes she'd been given on the ground.

It was really the casual disrespect of answering her phone in the middle of the conversation that had sealed the deal for Stephanie there.

[Anarion]

Qian Long looks over at Stephanie. She looks a bit sad (Charlotte, your opinion is that this is partially honest and partially affected). "You may refuse if you wish, but we still have a great deal of time and I haven't asked for your decision. What is it that's bad about the deal? Perhaps we could find out the problem and fix it. Oh, and no need to drop the clothes, those are a gift, you may keep them whether you refuse or not."

[Thanqol]

"Every part of the deal is rotten. I have to work for you, and you don't care about me. I have to work for all the people who work for you, and I don't know them so they definitely don't care about me. I don't get anything in exchange except work and whatever you arbitrarily decide to give me. I don't know anything about what you're going to ask me to do or who I'm going to have to work with, except for whatever concessions you arbitrarily decide to give me. And finally, there's no way to quit once I've signed up because it's enforced by magic! I couldn't do much worse by selling myself into slavery, that's what's wrong with the damn deal!" Stephanie shouted.

[Anarion]

Qian Long looks apologetic. "Ah I think you have misunderstood. That's not at all what it's like. Perhaps, let us try something different. Tell me, have you been home since your return through the hedge?"

[Thanqol]

"Yeah," said Stephanie, sulking. "That's where I met Hatsy. She's all right."

[Anarion]

"Tell me about it. What was it like being home after all this time? And who was this 'Hatsy?'"

[Thanqol]

"Hatsy's... well, a magic hatrack. I guess she was covering for me when I was gone?" Stephanie said. "And as to what it was like being back, that's none of your damn business."

[Anarion]

"Oh yes, what you are calling Hatsy we refer to as a Fetch. They're provided by our Keepers to replace us while we are gone. Some do a better job than others.

But very well, since you don't want to tell me about your homecoming, I'll tell you of mine instead. You see, I was taken when I was a young girl, barely 11 years old. I was born in San Francisco, and attended school here. I was just starting middle school at the time, out in the Sunset *points west and a little south* and I had taken to the school chorus. I used to quite love singing, and one day, a visitor came to our class and listened to all of us sing. And at the end, he asked me if I wanted a private lesson."

She actually begins to choke up a little bit, Charlotte and Marchande can't tell if this is real or feigned.

She continues after catching her breath "I did not return for twelve years. At first I thought it was glorious. He made me his dragon because it matched my birth sign and I would sing for him at court, as well as dance and put on shows to entertain his guests. But it went on...and on...no rest, no breaks, for days, months, years, until I thought my voice would flee my throat and my legs break from the strain. So I changed my song, to a lullaby, and I breathed fire to warm his chair and lull him into a doze. And I left, cut my way through the hedge and came home.

When I got there, there was another woman. She looked just like me, sang just like me. My keeper had made nearly a perfect copy, and she was better at my life than I had ever been. It had been so long, she was done with college already, cultured and sophisticated. She had a day job as an accountant and sang in local cafes in the evening. She was everything that I wanted to be, and I could never be her.

So I left, I found others like me who had been to Faerie and returned. They were all members of the court here, some local, some who wandered to this city where they would find others who would accept them for what they were. I had no talents but my singing and dancing, in most other respects I was still 11 years old. But it was so nice being with people that knew what I really was, that were willing to talk with me and help me learn about my powers.

They asked me to swear the same oath I'm asking of you. At first, I didn't have to do anything. They had heard my story and knew I didn't want to sing, and they didn't push me, they just helped me find a place to live, and would throw parties and special events every once in a while. And if I wanted to talk, someone was there to listen. Eventually, I decided that it wasn't worth living in the past. That life, no matter what has happened, is about enjoying yourself, finding pleasure wherever you can and helping others to find their own pleasure. I just, wanted to see all my new friends smile. So I started singing again, and eventually I became involved with planning some of the spring balls, and became very good friends with many people. I also sang for regular humans and they liked it and paid me well for my services. Eventually, I bought my own club near Chinatown and now I help other aspiring performers, both changeling and mortal. And I was chosen to be the new queen of spring several years ago and have served faithfully since then.

That's what I'm offering you today. A community of people who will understand what has happened to you, who can help you learn all about your powers, and who can help you make a life among all the regular people as well.

And we ask for your oath because we want to know that we can trust you. You saw how difficult it was to get throough the thorns and back home. There is always the fear that maybe some people lose their minds on the trip back and would do awful things if left alone. Or that they're still loyal to Faerie and want to trick us into going back. The oath is a way to prove that you're not one of those people, or at least keep you from doing anything bad if you are.

[Thanqol]

Stephanie had relaxed a little through the story. It helped to be able to put a bit of humanity behind who she was talking to, and a different impression on the organisation she was hearing about.

"I'll swear to not hurt anyone, no problem. No one should be made to do anything they don't want to do, or kept a prisoner. But it's the exact same thing which makes me wonder if I'm basically signing up to be your prisoner. You still haven't told me what this 'loyalty' involves in terms of duties or laws, and I'm just not going to take on a vague, open-ended job like that."

[Anarion]

"Ah, I'm sorry but it is going to be somewhat vague. We only have one strict requirement, which is to help another member of the court if they're in serious trouble and you have the power to help them. But loyalty is a vague concept by nature. You're swearing to the court, not to any particular person. It means you won't betray the court and that you'll side with the court against outsiders, but it doesn't mean you have to listen to any particular person or do what they tell you."