[LoL] Smoke in the Night

"...Yeah. I suppose you're finding yourself with more donations to give these days." The Spring courtier had been mostly absent, and now was dipping into events outside of the Coronations and throwing events like these. Solomon assumed he was looking to stake power among his own ilk, now that he was more comfortable with his own skin.

The smoke swirls as the doors open to the desert evening.

"What changed your mind? That you're not part of this," he gestured back to the other Lost, "...collective."

The paper crackled, trying to remember the folklore the other Fairest was referencing. He never did make a habit of reading, but he knew stories. "I'm not following. Andromeda was used as a shield for her mother's sin. Then was saved, and married off."

Was he worried about being thrown to the wolves for pissing off the nobility? Or was Perseus the monster? Maybe Archie just hated marriage.

He had no clue what he was getting at.

The demonic Fairest stared blankly at the skyline as Archie describes normalcy and how much he loves the guaranteed safety of the Freehold, a dismissive snort sending a plume of smoke at the bemoaning of Lost challenges for travel. 

"Uriel recruited me on the Trod," he said after a moment. "I got myself lost like an idiot. Distance doesn't matter in there."

Flicking the coiling ash over the edge of the balcony, he leaned on the rail.

"So, what do you do to protect it? If we're going to follow that thread."

The corner of Solomon's eye pinches as Archie describes his role in Lost society.


Kai's beaming presence from earlier was quickly lost in the Summer's roiling anger, the boots of his human heel hissing as cloven hoof prints melted into the floor of the balcony. "The Queen didn't have me kneel for a Knight's pledge while I was dying in the thorns. She was the Knight Commander of the Tolltakers at the time. My service right now among the Iron Spears pertains to internal security."

Another cigarette was lit, to replace the dead filter dropped into the sand below.

"You're talking about being a chess master of people's destiny's, so they don't fly too close to the sun. But all I'm hearing is you encouraging reckless attention seeking, so you can pat yourself on the back when you take credit for both their success and clipping their wings. You want it both ways? You're telling me it's altruistic? Or does the Crown of Arcadia whisper how gracious you are to your subjects?"

Holy shit. This Knight was the opposite of chivalrous.

"Dismal is one way to describe my outlook. Accurate is another, for both circumstances. I hear Freeholds do just fine with culture without fame and fanfare. But I guess I'm a bit old fashioned." He seemed engaged now, like sniping was the only way he knew how to communicate, and the normalcy of adversaries brought him comfort.

"What's got you so bleak to compare your own society to a prison and a cage when the idea of confinement is most of our worst nightmares? I understand you're putting a spin on my official position, but the pun on the term really does highlight the hypocrisy of offences taken. It's my job to check in, Hartman. No need to call me a servant of the Gentry."

He chuckles darkly, "As for the extent of my authority, what's your take? Do you think each Court should only police itself or open one another to a different perspective? You seem leery of zealotry, so, that thought should bring you some form of comfort."

"No one's stopping you from asking questions or challenging any of my opinions, Hartman." The moonlight Fairest didn't appear to be catching Archie's concerns about the rise of political policing, and its parallels to Gestapo or even the OVRA.

Or worse, he was callous enough to not give a rat's ass.

"Propaganda and fear is a game of Mirrors. I read auras to see if people are getting sick, and follow up on potential cracks in the foundation. The fact that I'm not busy is a good thing. I like Ogres not collapsing a high-rise because their Fetch shot their partner. Sometimes hope gives people ideas, like revealing themselves to their core touchstones.  I like not having a Spring courtier go on a bender with their understanding of Desire, and end up kidnapping their fling, thinking it's destined love. Sometimes people can't be happy with having enough." The detail of the scenarios were a little alarming, and possibly hinting at some experience.

"Sometimes it has nothing to do with grips on reality, and the person's personality just isn't cut out for this life. Then I monitor, so they have some semblance of the gilded cage you describe. Does that dispel some of the mystery?"