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Post by Gavin Graves on Feb 25, 2022 15:32:30 GMT -8
Though the Beast was here to have a good time, he was unable to keep from giving in to the impulses of his curiosity. To him exploring new phenomena was a good time, despite the party atmosphere. He veered toward the wall of silent wailing slowing toward a halt at its perimeter.
Examining the wispy ephemera at first with his eyes, then by washing the tips of his claws in its flow. It was fascinating. The music's beat having dulled in its immediate proximity, he realized he could not hear the conversation that continued beyond. Perhaps that was the intended effect.
Having been thoroughly engrossed in the theory behind Tony's arrival previously he had not caught the arriving dragon was wearing the Winter Crown. The significance finally dawned on him, he blanched nearly as pale as the spirits whirling about. The raptor had stolen eggs from the Winter King. The only thing keeping panic in check was the extended preparation he had committed to before engaging with the party in earnest.
He waved to Henley and Tony from some distance over the shoulder of the chilling and scaled Monarch.
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Post by Golden Boy on Feb 25, 2022 21:12:52 GMT -8
Gavin appeared to be looking at a constructed ritual, though extending from the King's crown. Maybe the Season granted inspiration?
Golden's lip twitched as he felt a familiar Mantle, shoulders hunching as he sighed at the waving razors. The veil dissipated as the music thundered back into the immediate bubble, causing Tony to jump.
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Post by Henley on Feb 27, 2022 22:46:46 GMT -8
Henley nodded, leaning in like he'd forgotten he couldn't be heard.
"He's a Russian mobster who has quietly run shit for years. Now, his dominance is being challenged. Russians don't like that. Gets their goat. The people want to be free, and Mitchell Carr isn't taking any bullshit anymore..."
As the sound poured back in and Henley leaned back, glancing about as his ears rang with the sudden change of noise. He saw Gavin and waved back.
"Ah! Gavin, there you are. Your Majesty, have you had the chance to meet Mr. Graves? He's been a good friend to Anthony and I. Really knows his way around the Hedge, too."
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Post by Golden Boy on Feb 28, 2022 16:45:37 GMT -8
Golden Boy's adolescent career as a thief and blackmail harvesting extraordinaire was something he had moved away from in the last few years of adult development.
But it wasn't like the Dragon was ever going to forget his hoard of secrets.
He kept a neutral expression as he listened to Henley's hot take on the whole situation, casting his attention downward and away from the distracting mirror scape as he thought to himself. "That's weird, because I'm pretty sure he sent Carr to Whitney with a bunch of Emerald socialites for the sole purpose of someone getting shot up and probably breaking his Oath of pacifism. I dunno why else a gangster would think it was a good idea to send a bunch of rich people and a spineless Mormon to barter with the Columbians." Winter had been watching.
"Guess he didn't account for you guys and an Icon?"
He chewed on one of his diamond-like nails, clamming up a bit as his attention ran with Samhain's events and Lucas Chevalier using a toast and a Seal as an excuse to call for his social assassination for political gain with his Knight. His Mantle swirled noticeably, ice jutting around Gavin in frenzied spikes as the Season sensed his feelings around its Avatar.
Tony's eyes were just as black as Gavin's as he followed the wave of frost with hypnotic interest, before offering the Razorhand a familiar, swaying fist bump. He still felt like he could be swallowed up by the lights and darkness without a physical anchor and drowning in everyone's glamour, but kept up a brave face lest Gavin think he was scared of him. Golden was pulled out of his melancholy by the sheer presence of the Ogre long enough to nail the Beast with his uncanny gaze.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Feb 28, 2022 17:41:33 GMT -8
Gavin stepped into the circle, skirting away from the icy threat.
Always a good sign when the Winter Crown identifies you as a threat and announces it with an overt visual cue.
The undulating pattern behind the knives was an accusation and it started to creep into the Beast's trip.
He blinked several times trying to shake off the feeling, but it wasn't going anywhere. The drugs had integrated it already and the only way out was going to be through.
"I stole your eggs," he blurted out his imagined secret. "I don't know why I did it."
"I ate them raw, outside, by the lobby." The undulating ice shapes began to take on the appearance of cracking egg shells roiling about and releasing their contents. His eyes were wide as he struggled for control of the direction the drugs were taking him.
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Post by Golden Boy on Mar 3, 2022 17:40:52 GMT -8
Golden's mouth twitched over a fang, exhaling a bemused chuckle.
"Uh...weird flex, but, okay... I guess...you could apologize to Dawn Catcher for ruining their weekly pancake breakfast?" He stared at the Razorhand, shuffling through mien cues and folklore patterns that ignited his own brand of mad insight.
"M-maybe you're just following a story?" he offered, shrugging as he coloured. "Your Durance was designed around..." he gestured to Gavin's bright claws, "...Piercing very specific armour for very, very large game. So, if you wanted to be malicious with a dragon, I guess that's a harmless way to do it."
His smile was forced now, decidedly uncomfortable as the swirling laughter of dying children and suffocating smoke coloured his broken attention and lapsed him back into a reality where he was surrounded by traps and pitfalls.
Everyone was just waiting for him to trust. A thousand masks trying to move the pawn.
The ice bloomed around his immediate area, forcing distance with the other three as he shivered.
"Wanna know my secret?" he sniffed, eyes black from the fae-charged alcohol.
"I can kill everyone in the Freehold at any time."
Rather than sounding proud, the reality was steeped in the Mantle of despair.
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Post by Henley on Mar 3, 2022 23:41:15 GMT -8
Henley had a little smirk on his face as the King of Secrets filled in the gaps. Chugunkin had thought he was going to break Mitch, but instead, he freed him. The Icon had set the man closer to right, and suddenly the potent Spring had both a conscience and the will to act. Dangerous things, in the wrong hands -- or the right ones. "Well, now they know. Expect us."
The Mantle swirling into icy knives made Henley raise an eyebrow, and Gavin's admission got the other one up. Egg theft? Did he need to worry about his omelettes?
Nay. Again, the Winter King filled in the gaps. It was an Arcadian thing. Brunch would be safe.
The whirlwind of sorrow and Golden's admission brought a pang to the Nymph's heart. He gave Golden a soft smile, the warmth of his presence there mundanely even as the supernatural pushed it away.
"But you're you, and we all know that we can trust you not to."
Then, there was a shot. That wasn't supposed to happen, and frankly, it was deeply concerning to him. Henley's attention snapped to Tony and Gavin. He frowned and reached into his pocket. From within it he produced the stuff of imagination.
You know, if the person imagining things was fucked up on Fae drugs, had just played a bunch of Warzone, and had heard gunshots going off.
"Tony."
In his outstretched hand was a silenced Uzi.
"Use it only if you need to. Let's depart in an orderly fashion, shall we?"
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Post by Gavin Graves on Mar 7, 2022 21:47:56 GMT -8
Gavin gave an understanding nod at Golden's suggestion to apologize. Time would tell if the advice would weather the hallucinations shaping his perceptions that night.
The idea that the Beast might have been living out a prescribed story unsettled him. The way the Winter King had just looked him over and casually read the tattered remains of his soul like a book, was uncanny. It resonated down to his core, dredging the primal depths for unbidden truths.
He was a man remade into a primal hunting Beast specifically to maim and challenge Dragons. It was like several blocks of puzzle pieces had been reoriented and slid into place cleanly in one smooth move. This was an Arcadian Truth woven into his being, and now he knew it. It was a knowledge bomb, and it exploded in his mind moving aside detritus awakening and naming the instincts he was feeling standing next to Golden Boy. The humming he felt in his claws that he had transformed into the nervous clicking. He had pushed it all down with much of the rest of his instincts, to fit in and be more human. It was easier when he didn't have a name for it. Now he knew the humming he felt in his claws was a howling call to purpose: tear dragons into pieces.
The Razorhand looked down at his hands. The claws reshaping to the beat of the music and the flow of the drugs. In his vision the reached forward toward the King aching to fulfill their design.
Memories and nightmares stirred. The gun shot rang out like thunder. He glanced back to the dragon as someone bumped into the Beast pushing him forward. Stopping himself flat a half-step from where he started when the call of adrenaline rose in him to keep going.
A feral look, he searched the room for meaning and found it far more crowded than he remembered. There were so many people. Were they real?
The base dropped in the music for several beats. In the lull he heard the word Fetch multiple times from a couple of different directions.
He needed to get his head straight. His demeanor shifted toward growing concern.
"There are way too many people here, yeah? People are saying Foxtrot, Echo, Tango, Charlie, Hotel. Let's get some cordial to fix our heads." He tried to gesture gently to move in the direction of the bar.
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Post by Henley on Mar 8, 2022 14:00:06 GMT -8
"Shit."
He reached back into his pocket and tried to call up his Glamour. In his rush and panic and drugged haze, he simply couldn't get his shit together. Glamour wasn't flowing right for him, and it brought a bit of fear to his heart. Finally, however, he summoned a silenced Colt .45 in a flourish.
"All right, Tony. This may get a little ugly. Fetches are our Fae-driven duplicates and are servants of the bad guys, no matter how they present. If you see something that looks or acts like me or Gavin, the code-word to confirm it is actually one of us is 'Churchill.' Let's stick together and get a magical sober-up drink."
Henley sounded chilled. He placed a hand gently on Anthony's shoulder and lowered his voice. He issued a warning, dire but serious, and drew on the emotions it caused in the kid's state. He needed to understand this was serious, and Henley needed a fix.
"Let's go."
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Post by Anthony Cartwright on Mar 8, 2022 22:54:39 GMT -8
Tony's eyes were black saucers as they moved from Golden's sinister declaration to Nate handing him an a submachine gun, struggling to process Gavin's coded language in the throng of Bedlam firing off left and right from loose Changeling;, swirling with Mantles and the primal mounting panic in the era of mass shooters causing the mundie's will to boil into quicksilver. Emotions hit the group in waves where it ceased to have meaning — frightening adrenaline, joy in the choas, the thrill of berserk offense, uncontrolled selfishness, to exhaustive lethargy to give up and cry. Everyone was sweating as they surged to the bar, with the Winter King craning his neck and mouthing something to what may have been an unseen earpiece or another magic spell.
Glass was starting to shatter in fantastic pulses, the music trying to cut more than once as someone wrestled with the sound system. Anthony froze as an Ogre hauled him up by the back of the neck, accusing him in the din, and the gun rattled with a useless trigger as the mundie had smartly kept the safety on when he couldn't trust his impulses. The confusion was quickly settled by his surrounding allies and eventually the Hunterheart freezing the well-meaning Brute with his gifts for the others to haul Tony down. A few other Lost with their share of blood spatter tried to interfere as they witnessed the commotion, with the King's Mantle being the only thing holding back a flickering Fireheart with a pointed spear towards the human.
The hushed voice of a Whisperwisp cut spoke directly in everyone's ear. "Members of the Freehold, the shooter is no longer active. Make your way to the nearest exit and refrain from Portalling or using the mirrors. It is dangerous and unstable. They are not Fetches. Proceed in an orderly fashion and refrain from firing weapons. Proceed to the nearest exit. We repeat: they are not Fetches."
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Post by Gavin Graves on Mar 9, 2022 0:34:49 GMT -8
Gavin strode up to the surging crowd near the bar. This was going to be a challenge to circumnavigate.
Pressuring himself into the mix of people slowly he let his Mantle nudge a wider berth for his passage. Enough of the people rushing the bar were easily influenced in their suggestible states, feeling a ramping vulnerability in the Beast's proximity. He angled himself toward an end of the bar to avoid causing anyone from feeling cornered on top of their other instincts.
Flagging down one of the staff as they moved away from their position to get supplies from his end, "Hey mate, four Cordial when you can. Getting tense over there." Vaguely gesturing in the direction of the commotion surrounding Tony and offering a weathered and understanding smile to the rapidly overworked barman.
The strategy wasn't getting him anywhere any faster though. He was forced to wade through the crowd further and for far longer than he'd hoped to get what was needed, but eventually came away with it. He downed his own immediately before braving the crowd again to return where he started. Turning his body and huddling his cargo closer when others in the crowd looked like they were eying it and getting ideas.
Some minutes later he returned where he'd left his conversation offering the rescue drinks to Tony, Henley and Golden first.
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Post by Henley on Mar 9, 2022 13:38:34 GMT -8
The Lost coming at them were met by Henley rearing back up to his full height. He unleashed the weight of his concern and obligation with a sharp command like a drill sergeant.
"Back the fuck away from this mortal! He is the King's guest, and under our protection!"
The way he held himself in that moment, you would never know that Nate Henley was just a stock broker. He was an Ogre, as Terrible as any other as he circled on the opposite side of the kid as Gavin.
"You want to do something helpful, protect some people, huh? Bring me my fucking duplicate before he fucks things up for the new Lost who live under my care!"
If this wasn't a Fetch problem, what the fuck was it? If it could walk into his office and look like him, what damage could it do?
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Post by Anthony Cartwright on Mar 13, 2022 10:41:25 GMT -8
Sliding briefly behind Nate, Tony took a swig of the offered drink without question, wincing as he tilted his head back and something popped where the Ogre had been gripping him. The dopamine rush immediately informed him that the Beast had likely grabbed the wrong bottle, swaying as he grabbed onto whatever was solid to keep his footing while rode the wave and adapted. As the top floor cleared, glass twisted and scraped as it launched at the heels of one of the fleeing mortals. Golden's attention swept back to Anthony as the student angrily shouted how he needed to find Serena and Abigail, grabbing the other's face with a clawed hand and he growled something back in the din. Whatever had transpired, Tony seemed to immediately drop it, shifting to a hollow calm as he paid attention to what the Winter King was saying. Sedna had taught him a new trick. Meanwhile, the gaggle of Toll Takers give the Drowner some distance for his tirade, looking to each other and nodding in placation as the infamous Spring Courtier evoked their duty of vengeance. The Fireheart accepted the supernatural contract as Henley bit off his rage, pounding a fist into his chest in a salute. Henley felt something surge as his words hissed from his mouth — the spittle becoming blood as it wove into a hideous brand on the Wyrd. |
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Post by Henley on Mar 13, 2022 15:47:00 GMT -8
The tang of iron on his tongue brought a smile to Henley's face. Summer Court. It was good for something.
Time to go.
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