View source for Logs:Don't Steal Candy From Kids

{{ Log
| chars = [[Arnaud]], [[Solomon]]
| summary = Arnaud invites Solomon to dinner, having cooked bouillabaisse. He learns the truth about Halloween candy.
| gamedate = 2022.11.02
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = Are you _sure_ you don't want to join Autumn?
| categories = Changeling
| log = +----------------------+ Living Room - Unit 302 - Peachtree Tower +----------------------+

This unit is labeled as a 2-room apartment, which is a cunning lie. Though it has two rooms - a combined living room and kitchen, and a bedroom - both rooms are so small that the wall between the two rooms seem just added in to be able to call it a two-room place. The flooring is old vinyl and scuffed and discolored in a sickening beige color but the walls and ceiling seem to by some miracle have a fairly new coat of white paint. The kitchen has an old but functioning gas stove, a small fridge and a few cupboards, and a fold-up table attached to the wall to save space in the small room. The cupboards are a remnant from the 70s and painted a bright orange, which actually gives this space life and contrast from the white walls.

The bathroom is strangely spacious, with a fullsized bath-tub with accompanying shower. The green tiles are from the seventies, covering the walls, while the floors are black and white chequered tiles.

The only piece of furniture in the main room is an old red velvet couch, covered in blankets of various colors. A few mis-matched rugs try to hide the ugly vinyl floors with little success.

A window overlooks an alley outside, with a blanket hung up to cover the window during the night. A lone cactus sits on the windowsill.

-----------------
 
Nobody sane invites guests to a place like this, but one could argue that no Lost are entirely sane. Besides, the food is no less good because it is cooked in this kitchen, and the smell from the apartment is tantalizing. The door is unlocked and Arnaud shouts 'come in!' when it's knocked on. He's busy in the kitchenette, adding the last touches to the bouillabaisse that is left to simmer for a few more minutes. Wearing a black apron over his black T-shirt and black jeans, the draconic man looks very content and happy there in the kitchen.

The table setting has something to wish for; it consists of a fold up table attached to the wall and two stools, but it could be worse. Two mismatched plates, some paper napkins, the complimentary baguette that is still warm (and probably baked by Arnaud himself), butter and a bottle of white wine; it's as French as it can get.
 
No one sane _accepts_ an invitation to a place like this, but Solomon shows up promptly on time. He's dressed down in a t-shirt with a local music festival logo, jeans, and a small box from a local bakery. He hesitates before opening the door, shouted invite or no, but after a moment, the door opens and the professor sidles in closing the door quietly behind him.

"Something smells amazing," are his first words as he looks around. The surroundings are taken in with _interest_ but no particular indication of judgement. "I brought a little dessert. My mother would smack me if I didn't bring something the first time visiting a new person." A quick flash of a grin. "Thanks for the invite." He waves the box around, wordlessly looking for the proper place to set it.
 
The tiny place isn't made bigger by the fact there's a pile of planks along one wall and other assorted wood and tools. It seems like Arnaud is planning on building something. But, it's still room enough to move to the seat. There's also suggestions that someone else stays here, there's bedding on the couch.

Arnaud looks up and waves Solomon inside, much more energetic and excited than last time they met. "Perfect. I have no dessert arranged," he admits and looks chuffed to bits that Solomon brought some. He reaches for it and manages to find a spot on the counter for it for now, then gestures for Solomon to sit. "It's almost done, so sit down and we'll eat right away. Pour the wine?" he suggests as he grabs the plates to scoop up the filling soup for them both. "This is my mother's recipe. I come from the south of France, so this is a slice of home," he admits. He holds the soup ladle still for a moment and stares into thin air. "I needed to cook for someone especially much today, so it is a good thing you could visit." He snaps out of it and brings the plates over.
 
The dessert Solomon brought is a small cake from a local bakery; chocolate and cherries, by the look and smell. Once it's taken, Solomon moves to the gestured place and sits down. The wine is stared at for a moment, before he leans forward and moves to pour two glasses, generously. "Home cooking? I'm honored. I don't think I've ever had French cooking from someone who learned it _in_ France before."

Once the glasses are poured, he leans back and studies Arnaud. "Why especially much today? Everything alright?"
 
By the smell and look of the soup, Arnaud is a good cook. He sits down; the table is small and the stools aren't the most comfortable, but one can lean back against the wall to make it better. "I didn't learn cooking in France," he explains readily, raising his glass for a sip of wine before eating. "When I escaped, I was a true beast. Killed people, almost ate them, but was captured by the local Lost in Miami. It was touch and go if I was going to be allowed to live, I was barely human. But, my mentor Sarah of Summer court took me in." He begins eating now, tasting his own creation; it's good stuff and he nods in contentment over his own cooking. No false modesty there! "Since I am very food motivated, she figured out that if I learned to cook, it might help me get back to being more human. It worked. I enjoy cooking, it grounds me, and I love good food. Perfect combination. Today - I got angry at someone. So, cooking helps."
 
Solomon listens, and bobs his head. He wedges himself comfortably back against the wall, his long legs at an odd angle to keep from kicking Arnaud, but it doesn't seem to be something he minds. "An unfortunately not uncommon story for some of us. I was all rage and fear and hunger when I got back; luckily it mostly vented itself on my fetch and not people at large. Nobody missed that bag of rot and nonsense." A flick of long, serrated fingers. "I'm glad help was able to find you. Your mentor seems like a solid person. And food is a good coping mechanism." He sniffs at the soup and a warm smile blooms on his face. "That looks amazing." He reaches eagerly to give it a try.
 
Arnaud points at Solomon with his spoon, bobbing his head in complete understanding. The fate of Beasts are often like that, and it's comfortable to share a table with someone that understands it all too well. He is practically congenial right now, in stark contrast to someone who suggested he could murder everyone that might be troublesome. "I didn't have a fetch, but I killed the one that sold me to my Keeper," he explains. "I fed him to the alligators. Seemed fitting." He slurps some soup and washes it down with wine. Breaking off a piece of the baguette he spreads generous amounts of butter on it, and gestures for Solomon to try the bread too. "You've done really well. Doctor and all, a good job. You been out a long time?"

"And may it always be to slavers," Solomon says, with a grimace. "Hope the gators didn't get indigestion." He takes a sip of the soup, and makes a happy noise in the back of his throat. "This is wonderful. Thank you." He also takes a piece of the baguette to dip into the broth and savor. "Yeah," he says, after he washes it down with the wine. "Over a decade, now. I was taken just before my sophomore year of college. Escaped my senior year - turns out the one thing the fucking fetch was good for was keeping my grades up. I kinda tanked that last semester," he snorts, "but my overall was good enough so that when I got my feet under me, I was able to apply to a program not in Chicago. I couldn't stay here. I only came back early this year." A shake of his head. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have, especially with the attack on the Freehold." He considers Arnaud. "Who made you angry?"

"It was probably good there was no fetch - I was bad enough, a fake copy of me would've been worse," Arnaud says with dark humor. "Nobody missed me except my mother." He speaks rather loftily about it, as if he has no particular emotions about any of it, and few regrets, but he admits that he was not a good man in the past. "That attack, I'd like to hear more details of it at some point. Not now, cause I like to pretend not thinking about violence once in awhile, but... later." He grins ferally at that, making another dark joke. He snorts and leans back for a moment, savoring the wine and pausing in his eating. "A vampire named Haliburton. You know him? I don't like vampires cause they-- well, they're also all psychopaths, aren't they. Everything they say grates on my nerves."
 
Solomon eats with gusto. His manners aren't terrible, but they're not practiced, either. "At some point. Although I'm not the best one to ask; I wasn't there. When I first got back, I wasn't much involved in the Freehold and I fucking _hate_ parties and social shit. So I skipped most of those." His grin has a gallows humor quality about it. "Guess I was right. But...Heloise was there, and so was Rachel. If you want an account at some point."

Another piece of bread is gestured with as Arnaud goes on. "Hal, hmm? He's very much a vampire. I like him, but I can see where he'd grate on the nerves for some. Vampires are the hardest of the other groups to deal with. The wolves - the not crazy ones - tend to be pretty straightforward. But vampires always have political shit on the back end of everything they do."
 
"Mmm, I'll talk to Rachel." Arnaud chosing to speak with another Summer seems most fitting. He goes back to eating, and gestures over at the large pot on the stove. "I got enough of this for a small army, so eat as much as you want."

About vampires, he nods vigorously and points with his piece of baguette this time, concedingly. "Exactly. I don't trust anything they say, expecting some agenda. I almost get the feeling he's saying things in an attempt to rile me up and make me break the Accord or something. Talking about being dangerous, and staying away from this and that vampire. Challenging stuff." He tears a chunk off his bread, ferociously. "He best beware. I /am/ Summer. The sun is on my side."
 
"There's a challenge I like to hear," Solomon says, and nods at the soup, even though he doesn't look like a man who eats a lot. He's steadily packing the soup away; perhaps Autumn has some secret magic to hide food. "He probably is trying to provoke you; I'm pretty sure he thinks it's funny. Do your best to ignore him - he won't break the Accord and if you _do_, the Freehold will have to pay compensation to the vamps, and we're trying to make sure they don't know our...current situation." He smiles, then. "I'm happy to eat all the rage food you wanna make, though."
 
It's quite possible Haliburton isn't trying anything of that nature, and Arnaud is just easily offended, but he's at least smart enough to know not to break the Accord and to avoid THAT sort of trouble. Being stabbed once a week is one thing, attacking a vampire is another. When Solomon gives another reason for keeping his cool, he nods and seems to understand the extra layer to the sort of trouble he would stirr up if something did happen. He grimaces though; he doesn't LIKE it, but he accepts it. "I'll make sure to give you a call whenever that happens. It happens quite often," he says with a wry grin, raising his glass in a toast. He might be a beast but he IS also French! He gestures over at the pile of planks. "I also like carpentry. I'm building a... bed. It's more of a tiny room though, cause it will be enclosed with doors. I have a room-mate, she deserves her own space."
 
Solomon looks towards the construction. "I'm impressed. The only thing I can hit reliably with a hammer is my thumb." He waggles one of the thumbs with its chitinous covering. "Is your roommate a Lost? Or this friend of yours who was threatened?" He sips at the wine, alternating that and the soup. "And I look forward to it. You're an excellent cook. I can...uh, heat things up in a microwave without them exploding. Most of the time. Why'd you come up this way? Miami sounded like it was working out pretty well. It can be hard for us to go somewhere new."
 
"You can come look at it later," Arnaud says, and sounds overconfident about his own abilities, smiling smugly as if he has had the best idea ever in building that bed-with-doors. "She's an accorded human." He thinks hard. "I think you might've met her, her name is Five." It dawns on him then, something odd. "I wonder why her name is Five. I never asked. It's weird, isn't it?" He's not thought about it before because he's Lost, and someone named Five isn't something he reflects too much on. "I should ask her about that."

He eats some more, then readily explains why he is here. "Another Lost named Heather Jones, saved me in Arcadia. She woke me up, but she died. I promised to find her family here in Chicago and to watch over them. I only got her name to go on, and a locket she gave me before she died. I don't know if I will ever find them, but I'm working on it. My mentor also said it was good for me with a mission like that, and to try to make friends and uh, Find My Heart. She talked funny sometimes."
 
"Five?" Solomon shakes his head--then freezes. "Wait, no. I think I did. Short, smelly. I assume she's useful?" He stirs the soup before taking his next swallow. "If you need help, I can recommend a good PI. Local boy, human but he's in the know. And I've got a couple connections with the police, if you think they might have a record or something. Can't get you into the DMV records, unfortunately." He chuckles. "But friends are always a good thing. Especially for us."
 
"That's her," Arnaud confirms. "Useful? Yes. But she's my friend, I don't care if she's completely useless." Finishing his glass, he fills up more for himself and reaches over to top up Solomon's glass too. "I hired a psychic named Tennyson Reed for now, I'll see how that goes. He takes cash - I've ran out of coins, as you know."
 
"Friends are good," Solomon repeats. "Useful friends are _also_ good. It's not required. But it's nice." He dips another bit of bread into the soup, and pops it into his mouth. He eats quickly, swallows. "Psychics, huh? Also useful. You'll get coins at the next Allthing if you go. It's the best way to get them right now - although I suppose you can always look for people to do favors for. You seem like you've got a lot of good skills."
 
"Wouldn't mind the number to that local PI though," Arnaud says, happy to make more contacts, especially those that can help him. He stands up to refill his plate, offering to add more to Solomon's too while he's at it - he wasn't lying, there's lots of that bouillabaisse in that pot. "Yeah? Good. Not that I can't live without them. I suppose not having some gives me more pause for thought and I haven't gotten stabbed since the last time," he jokes. "As for my skills - it's too common. Everyone Accorded is a good kill-- fighter, already, more or less. Unless they require a cook or a carpenter." He sits back down, starting on his second plate. "What about you? You're good with bugs. But I don't know if that'll earn you a lot of coins, eh?"
 
Solomon snorts. "No, it doesn't," he admits, quietly. "Most of mine I've gotten through attending the Allthings. I can do other things, not just bugs, but it's always one of those things where you gotta balance showing off versus keeping your cards close so you have an ace when you need it." A wry Autumn sort of observation. "But I do well enough. And not everyone is a fighter. Surprisingly few sorts are interested in risking themselves in battle from what I've seen." He gladly accepts the second helping of soup, and proceeds to put it away. "I've found more success just deciding what I wanna do and then doing it."
 
"Right. I'm saving some aces. My dream is that one day I can turn the Sun on some vampires," Arnaud says and he looks like the dragon he is for a moment, cruel and vindictive. He tears another chunk of baguette off for emphasis. But, he's back to 'friendly' almost immediately, pointing at Solomon again, looking thoughtful. "Do you want to be my friend too? I won't build you a bed though."
 
Solomon studies Arnaud thoughtfully. "Careful. I can't say I'm happy about them, but they're not our biggest threat. They might even be _useful_ against Them and their agents. But fighting a war on two fronts? Not great." He stares at the draconic man a moment longer then shrugs and moves on. "Sure. I like friends. And I have a bed. It doesn't need upgrades, so that works out."
 
Arnaud sniffles and looks sulkingly chastised, but he nods reluctantly. "I'm just DREAMING it," he says defensively. "Can't you let a dragon dream?" he jokes darkly. When his offer of friendship is accepted, he grins widely and toothily. "Yes! Now I have two friends!" He stands up abruptly and makes some room on the small table for the dessert and small plates, even if their main course might not be ready yet. He might've cooked nicely but he's not so fussy about in which order to eat things. "Five is better though," he says, so Solomon won't get his hopes up too high. "Just so you know. I even gave her a necklace. But, I will cook for you too."
 
"It's fine," Solomon assures Arnaud with a grin of his own. "I don't expect to be _best_ friend. I'm fine with being 'mostly okay' friend." He rubs his hands together when the dessert comes, clearly not too picky about the eating order, either. "This place is great. I get a cake or something from there at least once a month. Because it's fucking fantastic. The cherries are soaked in brandy, so it's a little boozy, too." He waggles his eyebrows. "So if you cook for me, I'll continue to provide dessert. It'll be good."
 
"I'm new to this friend thing, so - I'm trying it out. It's very confusing," Arnaud explains, not the least shy to admit that. There are mismatched plates and mismatched spoons, but who cares, when the dessert is good? Arnaud hastily finishes his plate of fish soup, then gets a piece of the cake on his plate, letting Solomon serve himself this time. "Deal," he says and - as is his habit, good or bad - points his spoon at Solomon again. He digs, taking a large bite of the cake, and he closes his eyes and leans back with a sound that is half a growl and half a moan of contentment. "This is good," he agrees wholeheartedly.
 
"Friendship is like that," Solomon agrees. "Confusing as hell. Worth it, but it takes practice." Solomon sighs. "The people worthy of being your friends will cut you some slack. Just don't abuse it - or them. People like us? Not a lot of people want to put up with our shit." There's a little shrug at that, and then he also gets a piece of the cake and tries it. His eyes close in brief bliss as the sugar hits his tongue. He does wait until he's swallowed it before he says, "Glad you like. I'll keep it on the list for next time."
 
Arnaud is quiet for a long moment now, staring over at the planks, then glancing over at the couch with its bedding. "I wonder how much slack," he murmurs, as if doubting his own ability to keep a friend for too long. He shuts up again and continues eating the cake. He's a tidy eater, as if compensating for the fact he turns into an outright Beast when needed. Or, perhaps it's just cause he's French. "Next dinner... boeuf bourguignon? Or anything you want in particular?"
 
"A surprising amount, if my own experiences are any guide," Solomon says, with the faintest of smiles. "Just don't abuse it. Treasure it. You'll probably do better than you think, and it will almost certainly help you 'find your heart'." And yes, he does the air quotes, in between bites. The slice of cake disappears very fast. "Sounds good. I'm not picky when it comes to food; I appreciate _good_ food, but when I grew up, you ate what was on your damn plate and you didn't complain unless you wanted to lose a tooth."
 
"She's mad at me, but she was going to buy me donuts anyway, so I think maybe she isn't going to stop being a friend," Arnaud replies. "She got mad at me for walking off when Haliburton was there. I didn't think she would get mad at ME for being mad at HIM." He shakes his head. He licks his spoon, thoughtfully. "Is it because Haliburton is her friend too, you think? I told her not to trust him. I should've just walked off instead." He suddenly slaps his own cheek, hard. "I don't like this feeling."
 
"Friends fight, sometimes," Solomon says. "I dunno how she feels about Hal. You might ask her; could be a lot of things and..." he sighs, "I find that when I don't get it about why people are acting the way they are, it's best to just ask them rather than make shit up. I usually get it wrong." He polishes off the last of his soup, and his wine, and leans back in the chair, blinking at the slap. "Sometimes when you care about someone, it feels bad, Arnaud. Means they got under your defenses."
 
"I will ask her," Arnaud says because he is a very straightforward person. "No point thinking about it till I do." He drops it and sits up straight, finishing the last of the cake and his last wine as well. He's now at a loss what to do next, because eating and talking is one thing, but beyond that he lacks the social skills to entertain a guest. He looks around the place, and remembers something. "Take a look at Prickly the cactus before you go. Nice white flower, right?" He snaps his fingers and shoots to his feet, opening a cupboard that is PACKED with candy. Some of it even falls out, and he hurriedly snatches it up. He finds a plastic bag and starts pushes some of those chocolate bars or other kinds of candy into it. "You can have this candy. It's from kids during Halloween. SO many kids with candy out there."
 
Solomon stands when Arnaud does, even though it immediately makes the tiny apartment feel even smaller. "Sure. I like plants." Then he pauses and stares at the mountain of candy. He looks at Arnaud. At the candy. At Arnaud. "Hm." He rubs at his jawline. "You...should probably know that the point of Halloween is to _give_ the candy to the children. Not take it from them. Especially in this neighborhood; half those kids probably have older siblings in some gang or another."
 
Arnaud pauses in his candy-scooping and squints at Solomon. He looks at the bag. Then back at Solomon. "Oh." Normal people would look guilty, but Arnaud isn't the least guilt-ridden. He's just surprised about the misunderstanding. "It's fine. I took it all from kids in some rich neighborhood I was passing through on my way home from the ball. I even knocked on some doors and took it directly from adults, I saw the kids doing that. Besides, the kids tried to scare me and kept shouting trick or treat, so I scared them instead. I wasn't the least scared of them, by the way, they were really bad at it." He holds the bag out somewhat hesitantly, as if wondering if Solomon still wants the candy. "...should I give it to kids in this neighborhood then?"
 
Solomon stares a moment longer. Then he starts to cackle. The cackle becomes a full belly laugh and Solomon leans against the wall and just laughs hard enough that the neighbors are almost _certainly_ hearing it. It eventually trails off into chuckles, but his little pedipalps are twitching excitedly upwards. "I'll take some of the candy. Giving the rest of it away would be nice. Are you _sure_ you don't want to join Autumn? I bet you'd be fucking fantastic at it."
 
Arnaud isn't sure what is so funny, but it's not like he can't laugh and be happy just because he's psycho. So, he snickers and grins, then hands the bag over. "I was chosing between Autumn and Summer, actually. I like to dabble with the scary stuff now and then. I mean, it's not like us Summers can't scare people, it's just that we do it a bit more directly in their face. I lack the skills for elaborate scares." Most likely he scared those kids with gangster threats, rather than anything spooky, or outright just robbed those kids. Might've scarred some of them for life. It's a wonder he wasn't arrested, cause he must've kept at it for awhile considering the amount of candy in that cupboard; or, since it was a rich neighborhood, perhaps it didn't take that long.
 
Solomon takes the bag, looks in, and smiles. "Sometimes direct is effective. But don't steal any more candy from kids; it's like the one day of the year some of these kids get to eat terrible for them things until they throw up." His smile is beatific, faceted eyes gleaming with enjoyment. "Don't deny them that." Then he makes his way towards the door. "Anyway - thanks for the invite. Let me know if there's anything you'd particularly like for dessert for next time, and I'll make sure to bring some. Enough for three, if you like," he adds, with a nod towards the in construction bed.
 
"Don't steal candy from kids," Arnaud repeats. He gets SO good advice from Solomon! First that mass murder is not the solution, and now this. He walks the two steps needed to the door and opens it for Solomon. "I had fun." He sounds like he means it. "Yes, Five would also love some dessert - maybe she can eat with us next time if it fits? Either or... Be careful walking out of here, there's people in this house that make ME look sane."
 
"That's fine," Solomon says to the idea of Five eating with them. "She's Accorded and sounds interesting. Let me know what you both would like, and I'll be sure to bring some over. And yeah," he smiles, "this was fun. Thanks, again. And for the warning." Although, to be honest, Solomon looks fairly enthusiastic about the prospect of being jumped by someone who makes Arnaud look sane. "You take care," he adds with a cheery little wave, then steps out into the hall, whistling his way out.
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