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Post by Krakenbox on Apr 14, 2021 20:55:30 GMT -8
Sleep is tense, with twitching nightmares on creaking palettes.
Night and day does not change, other than the murky twilight of the witches' domain. The warned breakfast comes, one of the unnerving figures floating silently with movements that don't even clink the rusting assortment of pilfered table wear. The second sister stood on the corner, facing the wall as she occasionally twitched and giggled.
Now shuffling, adopting the stance of an elder as meaty stew and bitter coffee was offered, with dried out fruit and candied rosemary to pick at. The bread that She-Wolf was also offered, the Ogre watching the rest in askance as tiny finger bones and teeth were plucked. The High One situated herself at the end of the table, open throat dripping with the boiled broth as she pantomimed eating. As one of the Changelings pulled yet another bone from her cousin's bread, she stilled.
Ben blinked up from staring at his coffee, looking from She-Wolf to the rest as he remembered no one else spoke the ancient language that was being garbled between the Hobgoblins and the Autumn Knight. "She's asking about who we're running from. She's hinting they might know more, but-" he rolled his eyes. That was a conversation of Bargains, and the risk of letting denizens of the Hedge know too much about them.
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Post by Kai Rose on Apr 15, 2021 14:16:02 GMT -8
The fated breakfast arrives, and Kai is a fuckin' peach throughout. Ever the gracious guest, the socially astute Polychromatic presents as pleasant, appreciative and polite throughout. She works through the suspicious food, trying her level best not to puke even as she maintains her face. Not pissing off the hags was something she had told her people to do, and she led by example.
Solomon would have fucking died here, of that she was well sure.
"Their kind help and gracious hospitality is appreciated. If it's something we can reasonably give in return, the information could be useful."
The people who had been around her would know she was Being A Good Guest, a little more chipper and happy than she otherwise would be, but there was a social convention to be minded.
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Post by Rowan on Apr 15, 2021 16:10:24 GMT -8
Rowan eyed the food suspiciously. Something about the whole place struck a chord with him, a familiarity that didn't make sense to exist in the first place. Not eating the food would be rude, at the very least, so the Darkling steeled his nerves and dug in.
He couldn't. The smell, and the taste the second the broth touch his tongue. It was too much. So Rowan made himself small, as small and unnoticeable as the diner table allowed him to be and kept his mouth shut.
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Linden
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Presence (3) Steady
Posts: 325
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Post by Linden on Apr 15, 2021 20:08:52 GMT -8
Linden ate with mechanical practicality, trying not to think too hard about it. The bitterness of the coffee help scour away some of the less appealing flavors and textures, and they took their time chewing on the spears of candied rosemary. This was hospitality, and they needed food. Not a good time to be squeamish.
They tried to contribute as the conversation flowed, feeling for the line between polite affability and deference.
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Firebringer
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Elemental Ifrit, Presence 3 (Intimidating)
Posts: 634
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Post by Firebringer on Apr 15, 2021 23:10:30 GMT -8
Maybe it is just how absolutely terrified she has been, but she actually feels some kind of semblance of mild safety. It's always been that way around Hedge denizens in general. The place she's always felt most at home was in the Hedge. It is the place where she feels closer to being who she truly is, or, at least, who she thinks she is. This has translated into her being in relatively positive spirits, enough to not be absolutely livid and rude to their hosts. She's intimidating upon inspection, always, but she is a lot kinder, looking to be more social.
She even manages to eat and down the odd food they've provided. Then again, she'd never been very picky of an eater, especially given her training in survival. Sometimes you had to eat disgusting things to survive and that's just life. Also helps when you grew up never being sure of what food, if any, was going to be on the table, so you take what you can get.
"I'm with Kai there. Plus, we should want to make nice with Hedge denizens, gain allies even a ways in. Obviously, using tact and bartering carefully. In this case, why-" No, she knows exactly why they should be wary of mentioning who they were running from. They could inform them. "Yeah, that's sticky. Perhaps a barter for exchange of information on the 'stays between us and only us' basis."
She also takes a good look over at Kai, who seems to be in the highest of spirits. It was weird. But still, to a degree, she wondered if her pep talk is part of what gave her a sense of good feels today. "By the way, Kai, thanks for the boost yesterday. I... I really needed it."
She still felt off and she has a feeling she will feel like that for a hot minute, but it was still something.
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Post by Krakenbox on Apr 19, 2021 11:44:26 GMT -8
Linden keeps polite, but they're so grounded in the task of digestion that that's as far as they go. The Ogre keeps to their sense of honour, allowing the Hags to overlook their stiff contributions as they have time to process the strange nightmare they found themselves in.
Rowan makes a valiant effort, he really does. The bread goes down with a steeled look of determination from the Snowskin's blackened eyes, but as soon as his thumbs dig into the steaming center, he drops it like it's a hot coal, coughing as the burning spreads through his throat and he's forced to eject it. Ever crueler, one of the hobgoblins places a chipped teacup for the mimicry of care and assistance, and it becomes clear that the known picky eater isn't just being dramatic about food temperature. His hand trembles as he grips the cup, but it's like asking the icy fairy to swallow boiling oil.
Kai and Firebringer bring the attention back to them as the figure looms over the Darkling's desperate, swallowed coughs. Firebringer blearily helped with the oven, fire arching from her hands and she shared in laughter with the monsters, sometimes talking like she's at an elderly home over the reality of the situation with a warm, detached expression. She chattered about what kind of deal they could make for information with the Hags, helping her friends, and it was rapidly clear the hobgoblins could indeed understand English.
"Our cousin is not here for trading," the High One's guttural voice dripped from the open throat, "Just a visit. We cannot spoil that with bargains and business." Ben didn't seem to factor in, his Oath lumping him in as the She-Wolf's partner or brother or servant, like a child underfoot. He seemed completely unbothered by this fact, completing chores like the grumpy, grizzled Domovoi that he was recognized as.
Buck's jaw was hard the whole time. He played along easily enough, but it was clear he had zero intention with engaging with these creatures. The Hags seemed to sense this, testing his limits as one yanked on an antler and pinched the velvet to see if the antler was ready to drop, another complaining about the Hounds who had ruined their garden seasons ago chasing the Golden Hinde, mimicking the death rattles of a deer. It was so disruptive, and they didn't even get a change to take a piece before the carcass howled and shrieked with the Promethean restoration of its organs. Clearly Buck owed them.
With an easy grin flushed with anger, the Spring noble offered to bring them a fresh kill for their dinner rather than scavenging a carcass, and the rotting grip on his head was released. Where the hand had stayed, the velvet was peeling and bloody, as if the seasons had eroded through time. Lancelot pantomimed the role of the story they were stuck in, cleaning and repairing the aged hunting equipment from the shed without any Fae trickery. His complexion restored some as he was gifted glamour for his service, his voice low as he talked his motley member down while they wandered off.
"Who hunts our guests?" the High One repeated to Kai, who had earned her attention. "It only bares fairness that we know who we house. Are you part of Their Game?"
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Post by Kai Rose on Apr 20, 2021 13:18:13 GMT -8
"I'm honestly not sure we're the ones whatever that thing out there is after, honored one. There was a large procession of revelers, led by a child with a long sword. They were heading in the opposite direction of us. We kept going deeper, the way they came and then we ran into..."
She shrugged, glancing to the She-Wolf. There was so much about this that just didn't make sense. Ultimately, this was the kind of negotiation an Autumn Courtier should be handling, with all of their knowledge. But they did not want to trade with the She-Wolf or Ben, and Rowan was busy having difficulty with the tea.
"Hedge artillery? That didn't feel targeted. It felt like it was laying waste to the whole area with explosions. Can you tell us the truth of it and dispel the mystery?"
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Firebringer
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Elemental Ifrit, Presence 3 (Intimidating)
Posts: 634
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Post by Firebringer on Apr 21, 2021 20:55:45 GMT -8
Firebringer's attention was directly on Kai and the Hag's conversation, interested in whatever they'd have to say about what happened. And given the connection... it makes her shiver thinking about all of that. To a degree, she can still feel the ache in her skin, as if it is remembering being incinerated away, leaving her with her bones until they too disintegrated, leaving her with just the fire within her raging heart. At least, that's what she's always imagined happened. The reality of it all could be so much worse.
"We narrowly escaped it too. Knowing what it is or at least having a better idea of what it is would probably be helpful for the both of us." It felt like it. It felt like war. Throughout this whole journey through the Hedge, it has felt like war. "We don't want to accidentally become targets in this game you mentioned."
And now her mind is picturing those 'games' releasing animals to run and hunting them for sport. But doing it with Lost. Or humans. Or hobs. So, what really was happening? "And, thank you, by the way, for having us. We might have helped out, but still." A perhaps slightly strange thing about Danica is never treating non-actively hostile hedge residents as if they are lesser. To her, that's how you get screwed. Who wants to help you or trade with you if you run around like a prejudiced ass?
Continuing this journey just fuels her resolve to get her life together in the Hedge. She can't be scared like she has been if she wants to be a defender.
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Post by Rowan on Apr 22, 2021 20:13:06 GMT -8
Curiosity was washing off of Rowan in barely contained waves. He felt empty inside, despite the night's rest. The trek in the bog, followed by the blast zone and the altar had left him drained beyond his body. The breakfast had been the last straw. No matter what Spring said about outgrowing what their Keepers had made them, the Darkling was bound by the laws of Arcadia. Some things were simply taboo, and he didn't have the strength to fight those fetters in his current state.
He was keenly aware of how poorly he had come across, but he had information to share, something that had been eating at him.
"I heard something," he said in a tiny voice. "Right before the bombing started. It sounded like reality was being pressed through a wood chipper. It was the most alien thing I've ever heard."
He wasn't talking to their host directly, hoping someone would pick up on what he had said and relay it, someone who hadn't made a fool out of themselves. 'Literally anyone else here,' a part of his brain shoved at the forefront of his mind.
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Post by Krakenbox on Apr 23, 2021 18:58:40 GMT -8
There was a quick exchange between the High One and the remaining hag, "What comes? We need more. Give us the memory, boy, and we can answer the first question."
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Post by Rowan on Apr 23, 2021 19:17:14 GMT -8
Boy. Rowan winced in his chair, suddenly feeling very much like a teenager being scolded in front of the class.
It took him a second to shake the state of mind, which he did by clearing his throat. He summoned the memory, the one that had made his ears bleed and his psyche unravel. Then, slowly, he pushed a finger into his temple. He pushed until he met resistance, then pushed some more. Flesh seemed to part like wax as Rowan rummaged around for the relevant memory. When the finger came out, it held a tiny silver globe, with the sound trapped inside. It howled like a blizzard caught in a snow globe, thrashing around to escape its confines.
Slowly, the Darkling stood up and made his way towards the one who had addressed him, holding the memory in his palm, like candlelight he was protecting from the cold.
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Linden
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Presence (3) Steady
Posts: 325
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Post by Linden on Apr 25, 2021 18:22:00 GMT -8
Reaching the end of their coffee, Linden watched Rowan with morbid curiosity as he dug around in his own head. The horrific question of 'how' formed in their mind, but was quickly struck into the distance by the firm core of their being that demanded survival now, rumination later. If they thought about that, they would wonder if it was causing Rowan pain, and if they thought about that they would have to wonder if they wanted the answer to the question of what they had crossed paths with, what had evoked that... sensation. Being shot to hell was one thing, and they were certainly pleased to have avoided that, but that other moment in the trench- it hadn't been the worst it could be, judging by what had happened to Firebringer, but it wasn't high on their list to do again.
Lips pressed together, they watched their hosts intently.
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Post by Krakenbox on Apr 26, 2021 10:52:16 GMT -8
The Hag plucked the globe like a crow with a bauble. As the monstrosity peered within, the High One pointed to the door,
"Cousin. Out."
The Autumn Knight's lips peeled over her teeth, the growl low and thunderous. The High One's hands actually shook a bit, snapping back in the alien language. The She-Wolf leaned across the table, the long pale digits of her hands carving trenches in the wood as she responded, a foot joining her hands as she proceeded to climb onto the surface, saliva bubbling from her jaw as the Mantle of the Leaden Mirror turned the oven low and shadows leapt to snatch at chairs and ankles. Benjamin's face was as white as a sheet as he placed the pan he was scrubbing back into the sink, watching the exchange on a hair trigger.
The High One extended a hand as a deal was met, and the sense of safety and relief extended across the motley Pledge. "No harm, no harm," their host coughed from the open throat, "Only business. You bring the War to our doorstep, but in ignorance. You have three minutes, unless more payment is offered to extend the hospitality. It will come. We will not be here when It does."
The Knight of Lores rose from the table, head brushing the ceiling before she hopped to the floor and dusted her hands, "She holds a secret of Gentry affairs. Pay well for it, or nothing at all. Some matters of the occult are a price too steep for one to pay." She licked her teeth; the frustration clear in her body language as the Witchtooth was locked from the bargain. Ancient laws dictated that they couldn't ask their cousin to butcher herself, when she would willingly give an arm.
"Titles and Their nature, and the direction of the board. Offer something you think is worthy for a detail, but do not insult us," the High One hissed, hungry for their hearts. To deal with the Lost on such things would be seen as sedition, but the taste of the Real was higher than any fear.
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Linden
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Presence (3) Steady
Posts: 325
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Post by Linden on Apr 26, 2021 13:17:39 GMT -8
Tension filled their limbs as She-Wolf's exchange with the High One transpired, trying to parse if something was about to go down.
The War. It will come.
Linden chewed their cheek, eyes sliding between the hags. Did that mean it was tracking the group specifically now? Before it seemed just to be circumstance, but maybe... maybe when the three Summers felt that call, it had gone both ways. They had no proof, and they never would at this rate. Whatever terrible deal their hosts were offering, when else would they have a chance like this? They couldn't do anything but run and hide without a better understanding of what was pulverizing the Hedge. Even if all the hags could tell them was how to hide better, it would give them a better chance.
The Ogre stood slowly, steady as they could make themself be. Reaching their arms up and back, they pulled the chainmail off over their head and let it drop to the floor. "I offer you my armor." To make their intention clear, Linden dug gauntleted fingertips into a piece of metal by their left elbow. Trying to gain purchase on the piece, they could feel the resistance: the force that had driven it in, the blows that made it a part of them. Muscle and tissue stretched, trying to keep their body in the shape it had come to know. Tearing it clear from the flesh, they set it on the breakfast table.
They were already sweating from the pain, a lump in their throat at the idea of what they offered. But their armor alone would not save them from artillery fire, and the chainmail only slowed them in the swamp. It was time to try something else.
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Post by Rowan on Apr 27, 2021 15:47:51 GMT -8
Just like that, his brain stopped feeling like a pressure cooker; Curiosity spilled right into the vacuum left. Autumn's heraldry of whispers rose as knowledge of the Fae was dangled, urging him on. With She-Wolf out of the deal, it fell to Rowan to gather the information. There would be a catch, surely, and a price.
Something worthy of a detail. Linden tore off a piece of themselves, like so much discarded scrap. It looked painful, it felt painful to watch, but the Darkling couldn't help but look in awe as flesh and sinew parted and screamed, raging against their master's will.
But he was poor. Even though material wealth would like bore the Hags, he didn't have much else left anyway. There was one thing he had, that shone bright in his shapeless core - a burning desire to see the wrong he had suffered made right. The pain of separation, the regret of hasty words, but also the warmth of love and the comfort of family. Those were his most precious memories, but also the most painful. Unattainable, impossible. That life was gone and clinging to it with desperate fingers, while driving him forward, also dragged him down. Rowan kept comparing what he had now with what he used to have and the indignation of having been stripped of it. In his own, cold and insidious way, revenge was colouring his world because he simply couldn't let go. Lose all that would suck, big time. But curiosity outweighed the loss of direction. After all, wasn't he Lost to begin with?
"I offer you purpose."
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