It is the end of spring at Six Flags Great America, and that means crowds, even into the early evening. Such is the way of amusement parks. But down an old paved path, roped off, and around a bend, in an old section of the park, things are more docile, but still active. The old Haunted House ride doesn't exactly teem with life, but outside of the view of others, life is still there. Animatronics replaced by other fantastical beasts, at least for those that can percieve them so.
Up in what was once 'The Banquet Hall Scene' where ghosts would flit about on strings, a much smaller grouping than months ago congregate, talking low around a long table. Rook, a man seemingly made from obsidian talks over to the side with Donald Dupree a man who can in turn only be described as elfin. Andrew, the ogre of a Scot is at the actual table, which is mostly filled up with his small gang of not quite defined, shadowy, roman compatriats. Thomas, rail thin, and seemingly made of dust and paper stands by his lonesome off to the side.
There are several others around as well, including a fox faced man, cuddled up next to a woman with feathery hair in one corner, both still bandaged. And underneath the buffet table set against one wall, half hidden in the shadows cast by tablecloth, a pair of blue cat like eyes.
The stage is primed, but it is not quite showtime yet...
It's Court, and thus Solomon has dressed for the occasion. He arrives in a better suit than his usual teaching outfit, well-fitted and black, except for the deep burgandy of his shirt, and the embroidery on his black tie: a single large scarab, in gold. The small chitin plates peeking out here and there on his skin, with their pale yellow color, stand out against all the black, as do his faceted blue eyes, and the tiny feelers at the corners of his mouth.
What also may stand out is that he brought cookies. Not homemade, sadly, but he comes in carrying three large containers of cookies from one of the local chains with a better bakery: chocolate chip, vegan oatmeal, and cinnamon sugar. He puts these wherever there's space, then steps away to study the lay of the land, and the people who make up the Court. He snags one of the chocolate chip cookies, and moves to take a seat on one of the Victorian couches, although leaving plenty of room for anyone else who might wish to share it.
Damon had plans to make it here with Noa and Elias (and possibly Ethan?), so when he makes it into the dining hall, he's potentially not alone, but still craning his head around like a tourist seeing a new place. The fairest DID try to dress up a little, a nice pair of slacks on and a purple polo type shirt, though the Converse still throw the overall look off a bit. Of course, his attention might be in danger of being kidnapped by the smell of chocolate chip cookies, already.
There's no Ethan, he's not eligible, but Noa absolutely shows up with Damon. She's wearing a jersey dress that's wrap-around, in teal, that comes down to just below her knees, and a pair of sneakers. Not precisely dressed up, but she's seen what was in her closet, and this is the best of a bad situation. She doesn't even pretend to be polite. She follows Solomon in, murmurs, "Hey, Solomon!" and proceeds to snag two chocolate chip and one cinnamon sugar cookie before going to find a seat on said couch. It's a big couch. There's more room for people.
Odd one out, Delilah arrives in a lightweight tee and cut offs. Skate shoes that have seen better days cover her feet, and she has a long board tucked under her left arm - likely how she got here. A quick peek about and she drifts towards where Solomon is, upnodding the buggy bloke - angling for the familiar face, uncertain where she ought to be.
Elias does indeed arrive along with Noa and Damon, they had made plans after all, and going back on even a casual promise like that, well, it would set a bad precedent. For him, he's dressed up, meaning he's wearing his nicest pair of jeans and a clean black tee that's only a touch faded. His boots are still a broken in mess, but what are you going to do? The cookies get only a momentary glance of wariness before he's helping himself to one of the cinnamon sugar ones, a tacit nod of thanks given in Solomon's direction. He sits on the armrest of the couch, looking almost ready to bolt as those yellow eyes fix on those up around the table.
Does Logan own anything other than jeans? It's possible. But that's what he's wearing along with a plain white t-shirt and a blue and grey plaid flannel on over it. His hair is loose but at least it looks like he ran a brush through the wavy mane. He's presentable if not fancy. But he does come bearing gifts. There's a big foil pan carried in one arm that seems to be filled with appetizer nibbly bits -- mini spring rolls, little bbq weenies in croissants, and a little fancier bits of toast with melty brie and apple slices. It's a weird combination, but so it is. They're set down not far from the cookies. There's also a case of beer. Kenny's probably carrying that, since they came in together.
Solomon's not the only one who brought food to this shindig. Rachel's got a big greased-up paper bag full of hand-dipped corn dogs in individual paper boats (the same one available nearby, the arrangement with the park has some perks) and little squeeze packets of ketchup and mustard. She's deliberately dressed like someone going to Six Flags, sneakers and denim shirts and a Led Zepplin shirt that she's cut down to make into a ragged tank-top, with an array of bangles on her wrists and a thin silver necklace complimenting her usual earings.
As she walks in, she plucks two baskets of corn dogs out of the bag and sets them on the ground under the buffet table, as if offering a sacrifice. She drops the bag with the remaining dogs on the table, and then strides over to where Andrew and his gang have congregated. "Hey Andrew," she greets with a small smile, "Ask you for a quick little favor?"
It's Summer time. A time of high heat and bright shining sun. Not everyone like it but there are some who do. And one who revels in the height of the Sun. And here he is, Steve wearing hedgespun formality. Black trousers and tunic with brass embroidery of flames and suns along the edges. Over that is a dark red surcoat that has matching brass embroidery along the edges. His feet are bare when he enters and there's a wide bright smile on his face. While his clothes are attention getting, it's a small thing in comparison. His body is covered and surrounded by fire and bright, warm sunlight. The flickering flames caressing his clothes and skin with the raising heat from it causing enough updraft to keep his hair aloft in it and his mantle crackles like it's on fire. He stops at an open spot and looks around to see who's there.
Kenny follows Logan in carrying the case of beer. He was dressed much like his companion with a t-shirt and jeans and a pair of work boots, over his t-shirt is a red plaid flannel. Looking for a good place to put the beer down, he picks a spot near the food. Opening the box he grabs two bottles and pops the tops, handing one off to Logan and clinking their bottles together with a grin.
Beatrice comes hopping along to court wondering what the response is going to be to her report. Tonight she wears a blue, corsetted dress accented with black lace and a top hat. Looking around, she pauses to rub one of her long, white ears and take in the scene. Her red eyes settle on her friend Rachel, and that way she goes.
"Good evening, Rachel," She greets the black haired woman cheerfully. When she stops her hat starts to vibrate atop her head and off it comes. Once removed another set of long ears poke out of it, these ones brown. Then their owner sticks his head out and twitches his little nose at the room.
As always with Lyra these days, the rabbit-eared Lost arrives carrying her (closed) ladybug umbrella. It rests propped up against her shoulder, almost like a soldier heading off to war, except less gruesome and more whimsical appearing with her. She's dressed in a flowing, off-shoulder peach and cream maxi dress and a pair of worn but comfortable strappy sandals. Her dark curls bounce playfully at her shoulders.
This time, Lyra doesn't arrive empty-handed. Nor alone as she comes with the rather musical Maya at her side, chatting softly with the other Lost as they walk. She carries a long, rather ancient-looking piece of Tupperware in her other hand -- the seal still intact after all these years! And inside? Bite-sized squares of banana bread. There's a pause and a murmur given to Maya before she drifts off with a warm smile, adds her offering of baked goods to the growing assortment, and then drifts back to stand with Maya.
Perhaps wanting to put her best foot forward, Maya's also scrounged up some halfway decent clothes: not quite formal enough for a suit, but she could easily be heading out to a nice restaurant...or more likely, a nightclub, even with the violin case at her back. A silky navy blue shirt with sweeping lines in metallic, abstract silver is loosely tucked into high-waist black slacks, the simple leather belt barely visible. The top few buttons of the shirt are left open in a way that would be less than ideal if it wasn't for the black tank beneath the shirt, and even her shoes are slightly scuffed leather. The threads of the shirt occasionally catch the light in a far more subtle manner than the occasional glints from her skin as she walks in, hands tucked into her pockets, looking around at new faces with open interest - but with an easy grin when she spots a familiar face. Eventually, she meanders closer - not for banana bread, however, but for a corn dog, biting into it while she waits for Lyra.
A bit of the shadow around the periphery of the gathering group seems almost to drag itself from the wall like liquid smoke before it steps into the light and resolves into the form of Lincoln, dressed in a dark charcoal blazer over a white dress shirt and casual, dark grey slacks. He's already smoking as seems to be a perpetual habit of his, the cherry red, glowing tip of his cigarette the first visible thing among the mass of insubstantial black wisps that seem to cling to the Darkling. However, after a moment to consider the enclosed space he takes one last drag before snuffing it out and moving deeper in among the rest of the Lost. He nods briefly to those he recognizes, but remains silent as he drifts through the assembling small crowd to stop beside Lyra -- and Maya.
The latter he greets first with a slight and unfamiliar nod, but the Rabbit gets a faint smile and a gentle bump of her shoulder with his before he finds a place nearby, but separate from most to lurk and sulk and memorize faces.
I hope everyone got their chance for food and drink. It only takes a moments distraction, that of Andrew turning his head to Rachel with an upnod and a low brouge of 'Hey, I can at least hear you out' for his minions to descend on the cases of beer like a swarm of legionary locusts. As for the brought food?
It is just gone. The cookies, the corndogs, banana bites, the... who was the jackass that brought a plate of spaghetti? It just disapears. One moment there, one moment gone. The only hint that it ever existed being the spitting out of a cracked spaghetti plate across the floor from under the buffet table and the blue eyes there.
It is well, a bit of a commotion, but one that is cut off when the final two people arrive. The first, the mouse eared small lady with the sword and the archaic dress. Tail peeking out from underneath. Real D'Orleans. She leads the second.
Queen Marybelle can be called statusque because she is literally carved from alabaster, a venus di milo except with you know arms, and clad in a white dress. She follows after the mouse with a bright smile and only seems to notice the congregation after a few steps.
"Oh! Real! Are we having a party? I do love parties."
"Hello, yourself," Solomon says, easily, to Noa, lifting a cookie-bearing hand to her. The unfamiliar faces are given a quick once over, and a nod of greeting. Delilah gets a quick grin and a wave to come join them, and those others he recognizes also receive a quick wave. He looks around, saying, "I must say I like the ambiance," with a teasing sort of smile.
As meatier offerings are brought, he can't resist rising to try and grab a sample of those tasty treats. He doesn't even get fully to his feet until they're just GONE, though. He blinks, makes a small disappointed noise, and sinks back down as the Queen herself enters. Another blink as she asks if they're having a party. A quick glance to Noa and Delilah, somewhat concerned. "We were asked to meet as a Freehold," he offers, deadpan.
Damon plucks a couple of the chocolate chip cookies from the table, offering Solomon a soft, cheerful, "Thank you for the..." while the rest of the food just BLINKS out of existence right in front of him, making the fairest jump back a step and blinkblink. Just a moments consideration, and then that plate getting spit out, before he is scooting along for the couch after Elias and Noa. He almost misses getting his butt onto cushions with how his attention is being rapidly drug around the room, taking in all these faces he never got a good look at (or maybe didnt see at all!) before, then back to the undertable with a raised brow, then a slow, wide eyed nod at Solomon's statement, at least agreeing.
Noa salutes Solomon in return with a cinnamon sugar cookie. She eyes the corn dogs and banana bread and looks terribly disappointed as they disappear. She starts munching on the cinnamon sugar cookie, instead. She takes her time while eating to look around at ALL the people, and murmurs, "There's more of us here than I thought there'd be. That's heartening." Then she quiets down, and shoulder-bumps Damon, comfortingly.
The request she intends to make of Andrew is interrupted when royalty walks in. Or whatever passes for royalty in a Changeling court. Rachel pauses, watching Real and Marybelle enter. Her body stays angled towards them, but she turns her face aside to Andrew, "Oh I was just gonna ask if you'd play boxing coach for half a minute," a martial exercise that would trigger the loophole of Vigilance of Ares, and thus negate the cost of an early-warning in case of attack or ambush. And a new debt, however small, would fit the loophole for yet another contract besides, "But it looks like we're about to get going here. Maybe next time." She smiles at him, and then smiles again as she's joined by another familiar face. "Heya Bea, it's been a minute. You been well?"
Food disappearing doesn't seem to be a surprise, Delilah looking around for Mae, then patting her pockets down. She comes up with a couple of dumdums, offering one to Solomon and one to Noa - the latter winning a warm smile from the Fae-Touched. Small and markedly normal among the extravagant. A third dumdum is unwrapped and popped into her mouth to suck on while she looks for faces she knows and lifts a hand to greet them silently.
The sudden descent on the table has Elias on his feet. Though as things calm down, so does he and he returns to his perch on the armrest, nibbling on the cookie as he stares out over the crowd. Damon gets a concilliatory pat on the shoulder as he joins them on the couch. "I wanted a beer." He mumbles softly between bites of a cookie he now intends to make last, his stomach softly seconds his thoughts. Maya gets a linger moments more attention than some of the others, or rather her instrument does, and he rolls his shoulders as if keenly aware of the lack of his. Then his eyes lock on the monarch as she arrived, a soft, "Hmm..," forming low in his throat as he takes her in.
Logan clinks his bottle against Kenny's and takes a swig. He's managed to get himself a little plate and a cookie and is searching out a seat to plunk himself down in when the swarm descends and the food vanishes. Welp; that's a thing, his expression says. "You get any food?" he asks Kenny with a laugh, offering what he managed to sneak away with out to the man next to him. But then his attention is drawn when royalty arrives and he waits, attentively, to see the proceedings begin.
Steve gives a deep formal bow towards the Queen as she makes her entrance. "Is it a party? I hope there is dancing." His smile grows larger and he laughs. "Scratch that. I do not think I know how." He shrugs and takes a step towards the food only to see if consumed in a blink. Well. He simply shrugs it off and turns to look over the faces again. "I am starting to feel a bit overdressed." As he says that, the flames around him flicker with little motes of light floating off to quickly fade away.
Kenny can't help but give a bit of a chuckle as the food is quickly consumed. Finding a seat with Logan, he pauses to offer the queen a bow. Once seated he leans back to pull a fresh bag of Skittles from his pocket to show off. "I brought a backup snack for just this type of situation." Slipping the bag away before it can be snatched he waves off the offering of food with a softly spoken, "Enjoy what you have." Settling in with his beer he lets his eyes search the room and the other lost within, lightning crackling in his gaze.
As Lincoln drifts close to Lyra and Maya, the rabbit tips her head and smiles. The shoulder bump gets a quiet laugh, gaze following the Darkling as he retreats, but she quickly looks ahead. The food vanishing is only noted after the fact. Those two other figures draw Lyra's attention far more, her smile warmer as Real and Queen Marybelle emerge. The umbrella has come down from its rest against her shoulder, hands clasped its handle and tip butted gently against the ground. It's neat and graceful that curtsy that follows, dark curls bobbing along with her movement. That done, Lyra leans to murmur something excitedly to Maya.
Lincoln gets a half-grin at his unfamiliar nod, before Maya looks back at the table, considering a be-- nope. "I don't think you're getting that tupperware back." Maya remarks, bending slightly towards Lyra, looking impressed despite herself at the rapidity of the disappearing food. Her attention is eventually snagged by the two figures arriving, taking another bite of her corn dog as her brows furrow at the words of the Queen, but then there's Lyra responding quietly, and Maya listens, her eyes wandering from the Queen, Real, and those at the table.
Marybelle gives a winning smile to Steve, apparently thinking he has the right idea as she moves over to her throne. Andrew gives Rachel a nod as this goes on. 'I can spar anytime, but oaths may take a bit more convincing. Later.' He agrees. But it is Real, the mouse eared woman who addresses the court and not the Queen.
"I would like to..."
She is almost immediately cut off as Marybelle suddenly makes a face, scootching around with a papery crunch on her thrones cushion. Blinking a little, before she reaches down and pulls a small bit of paper from underneath her butt. Staring at it for a moment before she suddenly declares.
"It's a bunny!"
Turning the paper around to show that it is indeed a picture of a rabbit, something she seems quite delighted with.
Real coughs once, before she restarts. "Ahem, I would like to report that we have made contact with several of our lost members, and I wish to maintain patrols to continue to do so, and would like to personally congratulate those involved with the safe rescue of Marcus and Becky.."
She makes a nod over to the fox faced man, and his bird haired companion.
"Unfortunetly the briarwolves that were chasing the party did manage to kill Richard whose body..."
"He was /already dead!/" comes a defensive hiss from underneath the buffet table, Real closing and reopening her eyes before continuing.
"Whose body was unrecoverable. However, we can no longer treat this entirely as a rescue operation. Thomas?"
Solomon leans to murmur to Damon, although his eyes stay on the Queen and Real, "I'd say you're welcome, but instead I think I have to say that I'm sorry and there will be more opportunities for cookies--" and then there's a dumdum! He brightens up perceptibly and takes it from Delilah with a murmur of thanks. He unwraps it and shoves it in his mouth before anyone can snatch it.
He watches the dynamics of the court with interest. And, possibly, a little dismay. "Retaliation is on the docket, I hope," he murmurs around the mouthful of dumdum.
Beatrice covers her mouth and giggles as yet another of the rabbit pictures she hid around the freehold is discovered. Then she tries to look innocent, just a bunny girl, petting Hopscotch. Hopscotch, her brown rabbit, twitches his nose and wiggles. Clearly the flufball wants to hop around so he can sniff and chew on things. But that runs the risk of the cotton-tail being eaten by Eleanor.
Damon nods enthusiastically at Noa's comment and murmurs, "Lots and lots." He breaks one of his purloined cookies in half and shoves it into his mouth to start munching away. As others start paying more attention to the royal individuals that come in, he leans into Noa's shoulderbump and fixates on the new arrivals, but when folks sit down and Court seems to officially start, he dutifully focuses on Real, stuffing the other half og his first cookie into his mouth to quietly munch away while he listens to the retelling of events.
Rachel looks confused for a moment as the queen is surprised by a bunny picture. Then she hears Bea's smothered giggles and her jaw drops to the floor. The look she turns on Beatrice says that the bunny Changeling has just earned about a bajillion points in Rachel's respect and amusement estimations. She has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.
Noa takes the dum-dum from Delilah, her whole face lighting up. "Thank you!" she says and offers one of her chocolate chip cookies to the other Lost. She's got no clue what anyone's talking about but hey, watching is fun. It's how people learn things, right? She clutches the lollipop like a talisman and continues to munch on her cookie.
Elias is looking more than a little confused himself, so his eyes seek out the one person nearby he's sure has some experience with these things, Solomon. He's hald watching him, half watching the throne and the antics going on up there trying to judge if this is at all normal.
Horror is replaced by amusement. It takes a monumental effort from Delilah to not bust out laughing at poor Dick's fate, being recycled by Eleanor. A dumdum for a cookie? Deli splits the cookie in half, offering part to Solomon with a questioning look. Mixing the lollipop and a cookie might be weird, but she discovered his weakness. For the moment, the not-Lost focuses mostly on listening and trying not to be too inappropriately tickled by her own twisted mind.
Logan takes a swig from his beer as his attentions lips from the Queen to Real and back again, and then to the blue eyes beneath the table, one brow going up a little bit, but the information isn't all that funny so the smile fades from his expression. When Kenny turns down his offering, he just balances the plate on his knee and pops a mini-dog into his mouth shamelessly. He'll eat everything on that plate without hesitation.
Steve points at the paper. "It is a rabbit!" Is exclaimed loud enough for everyone to hear. He looks towards Solomon. "Depends on who you mean against. Those wolves are little more than wild animals. Want to go around killing them all like the people in Jaws?" He shrugs with a smile and looks back to Real. "I am not sure how much help it will be." He looks around to the other lost. "But I have recently acquired a sizable hollow and offer it's use to any of the Freehold who need it. With the condition that no one breaks it." He takes another look around, pausing to look people in the eyes for a moment. "It just needs a little final refining." He pushes his hands down the front of his surcoat in a way that disturbs the flames to cause whisps of smoke to trail up and away from him. "Also, seeing that it is something clearly needed I will be holding regular training session in combat for those who wish to learn. I ask for some volunteers in various skill sets. Like guns. I know little more then which is the dangerous end."
Maya raises both brows at the sudden commotion on the throne, looking from the queen to a mildly skeptical glance towards Lyra at her side-- but the giggles over yonder get her attention, and something clicks, before she neatly finishes off her corndog. Her eyes drift to beneath the table, but she seems to be mostly here to listen and absorb.
Kenny takes a hearty swig from his beer bottle as court begins. Little bits of lightning spark in his hair to silently travel over his form as he sneaks one of the mini-dogs from Logan's plate. Trying to be sly, he pops the whole thing in his mouth while his gaze watches as the news unfolds, slowly chewing before swallowing.
Real gives Steve an approving nod, favorite of the court tonight it seems. But then she is backing away some to give Thomas room. It takes him a moment to take the floor. He moves slow, his body crinkles, and before he speaks he lets out a cough that spews forth a small cloud of dust in front of him before his raspy voice goes on.
"Yes, I have... very troubling news. Just recently I sent Miss Cotton, and one of the half touched..." Apparently the Fae-Touched don't get names in his book. "To follow rumors of some of our kind taking refuge in the south. And unfortunetly, they found them."
There is a long pause.
"Forming a new freehold and accusing us of incompetance and of a traitor in our midst. Whilst I do not deny that there is a distinct possability that our recent troubles may have been caused by a privateer, we cannot allow such division to form, the differences between oaths will allow wiggle room for the gentry to manuever, and as such however many there are to the south must be..."
"Destroyed, before they can do permanent harm..." Rook with his gravelly voice interjects.
This is almost immediately responded to by Andrew raising his voice. "Och! For fooks sake man, you can't just march down there and fookin kill anyone that disagrees with you you fookin spooky cunt."
Real at least seems taken aback, Marybelle seems well... lost. Donald finally chimes in.
"We should at least look at our options before taking such a nuclear course Rook..."
Solomon is NOT picky how he gets his sugar fix; he takes the offered trade from Delilah without hesitation. Elias gets a quick look and the slightest of shrugs; he doesn't know what's going on, either. Not that it's apparently going to stop him from talking about it.
His eyes turn to Steve, and he says, "The wolves are, as you say, just creatures taking an opportunity. But the Freehold and its people have been damaged; while we may not be able to strike at the ultimate source of that harm directly, they have agents, friendly goblins, perhaps even human collaborators. We should find them, hunt them, know which ones can be left to feed false info to, and which ones must be removed - and which should be avoided altogether, until we have the knowledge to defeat them."
He goes quiet when Thomas shuffles forward and speaks with his dusty voice. He listens, and his claw-tipped fingertips beat a small rhythm on the arm of the chair. "It seems to me that a loss of confidence would be natural after such a tragedy. Wouldn't it be better to regain trust, than destroy it entirely by framing those who seek refuge as enemies?" His voice is again, deadpan, but his gaze is flicking back and forth, from those in the court, both the experienced, and the newer folk, attempting to gauge the reactions. His lips are pressed thin as he falls silent again.
The mention of just crushing another freehold brings a blink and a frown to Damon's face. He quickly looks over at Noa and then Elias, maybe just to check he heard that right, before letting his gaze follow the exchange again. Under his breath, probably just for the couch, he offers, "...sound a little bloodthirsty..."
Rachel scowls at Rook as he makes his dark declaration. It's gratifying to hear Andrew and Donald speak so immediately in objection. When Solomon speaks up, Rachel nods, and even puts voice to her support; "Doc's making good points."
"Fuck." A certain sort of resignation in Deli's voice, taking the dumdum out of her mouth so it doesn't muffle the word, either. She glances between the court and then those she knows, then Sol, nodding slightly. "Do we have to assume they're enemies? Why not work together? If there is a traitor, maybe they can help us suss them out and string them up."
Lincoln stirs at mention of second Freehold and the so-far proposed plans for dealing with it, but his only real reaction is a faint sigh and a click of his tongue. Clearly there's disapproval writ on his shadow-lined face, obvious to anyone who cared to look. Yet the source of that sentiment isn't totally obvious. In any case, he pulls out his phone and taps something into it quickly before putting it away and glancing at Lyra.
Noa stands up and says, "I know I'm brand new and all, but it's not copacetic, not figuring out ways to coexist. We ain't Keepers to run around trying to crush other people for wanting some safety, too. Traitors and privateers are a lot more of an immediate problem, if they're still here. How's about we focus on that?" She must be having a lot of feelings, her normally faintly Southern accent has gotten a lot stronger.
Elias's own expression is flat as he listens to the rahter drastic plan regarding the other freehold. He's trying to keep his expression neutral, but there's a slight narrowing of his eyes at the word 'destroyed' that indicates he might not totally be onboard with that. Still, in winter fashion, he keeps his opinion pretty much to himself.
"While I am all for destroying something when necessary." As he says that the flames and light around Steve intensify as if even his mantle is impatient to incinerate something. "That something needs to be a proven threat. Not only a fear. Their accusation needs to be investigated and their possible threat assessed. We are no better than Them if we kill each other at a whim." He pushes his hands down the front of himself and the flames lower with the movement. He grins widely and looks at the other Lost. "I mean, it is possible they are right and one of us is..." He pauses to remember how the kids were saying it. "...is sus." He nods and his smile grows a bit brighter at the 'proper useage'.
A small, gollum-like creature skulks in to large chamber of the old haunted house. Sneakers scuff along the floor as Mae Duponte walks in from the entrance before pausing to survey the room with dull, milky-white eyes. Her small hands are cupped together and something, or a few 'somethings' are squeaking and squirming within the closed palms of her hands.
Those pale eyes flick from face to face as she overhears parts of the conversation before her gaze settles on Rachel. Quick, shuffling footsteps bring the darkling gristlegrinder over toward the shapely woman and she settles in beside her before offering a semi-aloof little nod of her head.
Milky eyes turn back toward the crowd as Mae uncups her hands just enough to remove a live mouse with her right hand, pinched and dangling by it's tail. Two more remain in her left, clamped tight as she ignores their squeaks and attempts to bite her knuckles.
Without any fanfaire, Mae stuffs the mouse into her mouth and begins to crunch and chew messily. At least that one stopped squeaking!
There's the bobbing of that curly head, nodding with some things--but that stops abruptly when the destruction of a Freehold comes up. "But why--" Lyra blinks, stunned as her brows knit tightly, and she glances toward Maya and then shifts her stance, looking for where she had last seen Lincoln. A tight, uncertain frown replaces that once sunny smile on Lyra's face, only lessening by a fraction at Donald's words as she turns her gaze back toward him. With a shake of her head, Lyra almost seems inclined to say more, but others voice their opposition to such talk, so she falls silent once more to listen.
Logan nearly spits his beer out when destruction comes out as the very first option, "Holy hell. Maybe we oughta take a moment or two and consider the fact that these folks are our own and if they're not feeling it, maybe we oughta take a look at why and see about.." he gestures with his bottle at Solomon's suggestion. "Maybe try somethin' a little more diplomatic before we go nuking the site from orbit. Meanwhile, maybe take a look at ourselves and make sure we've got our own house in order."
"The further this wound is allowe to fester, the more dangerous it becomes. Our first priority is always to keep ourselves safe from the gentry, something that cannot be done with others attacking our side." Rook counters, to which Andrew just throws up his hands, an action mimiced by his mass off followers who apparently think they are starting a wave.
Donald, motions his hand around softly to the room. "Rook, they are bringing up good points, the other courts are not with the court of fear on this one..."
All eyes seem to be on the exchange, except for four. Two, blue, under the buffet table are intent on Mae's prize. Two, stone, seem to just be focusing in, blinking as Marybelle speaks.
"Oh, are we fighting? Please don't fight, I don't like it. Fighting is bad."
Finally Thomas sighs, letting out another cloud of dust. "I was going to say brought back into the fold. I believe me and Real are capable of coming up with plans of action, with proper advisement of course."
That spit take gives Kenny the chance to slip a cookie off Logan's plate unaware. Almost like even amid this serious business the game is still afoot to see how much he can take before being caught. Nodding at his companion's response to the current topic, he speaks softly, his voice crackling with a hint of electric static. "I'd ask who stands to gain from this chaos?" Shifting his gaze towards Logan he looks back to the doctor and looks like he'd say more but snaps his mouth shut as Rook and the rest respond.
Maya tilts her head, brow still furrowed and thinking, chewing a bit on the corndog stick - gonna give herself a splinter, that way. But before she can open her mouth, the wave of disapproving voices start, and she puts a hand on Lyra's shoulder to give her a comforting little pat. She doesn't talk, though the appearance of Mae does have her raising a hand to wave towards 'Ray' with a faint half-grin - and then the mice get eaten, and Maya doesn't stop grinning, but she does shift both hands into her pockets. Casually.
Solomon nods to the very good points brought up regarding NOT murdering the other nascent Freehold by various other people. He considers Rook with a flat expression. He drums out a nonsense rhythm. "Ensuring that our house is in order is likely the best way to bring them back. Sometimes fear must be stoked. Other times, it must be soothed so that clear heads can prevail." Then he asks, his eyes resting briefly on Marybelle, before moving to Real, and it's to her and Thomas that the question is addressed: "Is there any evidence at all that we _do_ have a traitor? I would be happy to help in an investigation."
Damon nods lightly at Noa, taking in a short breath and, for the moment, forgetting about the cookie in his other hand. Clearing his throat, he offers a little louder to be heard beyond the couch this time, "I know Im really new here, but maybe we can reason with them? Even if the betrayal WAS a privateer in the area, the fact that we know where they are means them being isolated doesnt save them from it. Maybe they would be willing to lend a couple of people to join ours to check for a traitor?" Not that he has any idea how THAT can be done, but you know.
Noa sits back down again, having said her say. She goes back to nibbling on her cookies and looks rather like she's about to start blessing people's hearts if she starts talking again. Never a good sign. The cinnamon sugar is helping with that, though.
"Did you bring enough to share?" Delilah calls over to Mae, nodding towards the table Eleanor is under and lofting a brow before something said catches her attention and she snorts. "Court of fear is afraid." She says, shaking her head. "I thought you supposed to rule over fear, not succumb to it."
Everybody's doing a good job of booing Rook's suggestion, Rachel no longer feels a need to contribute. Though Solomon's investigation does bring to mind certain words like 'inquisition' and 'witch hunt' and 'House Unamerican Activities Committee.' Which are fairly concerning, but not concerning enough for her to object. Might have to be done, just... eeeek at that thought. She glances down at Mae as the ghoulish gremlin joins her, offering her a smile smile and a wave of her fingers in greetings.
At Solomon's question, Lincoln clicks his tongue again and grunts. "I'd be careful about how you answer that," he says, directing it to... whoever Solomon was addressing. "If there *is* a traitor, and they're here, we've already tipped them off enough that we're on to them and they should lay low." He's obviously not very happy with himself that he's forced himself to speak up, but he presses ahead anyway after a short sigh. "No need to give them further information about where their lies are fraying and where they need to be more careful."
Mae rises from her seat almost as soon as she had settled in beside Rachel. Her mouse treat is properly crunched down then swallowed with an audible *gulp* as she crosses over toward the buffet table. A quiet glance is cast toward Delilah before the scrawny creature crouches down before the eyes of Eleanor.
One of Mae's two remaining mice are held out by the tail in an offering toward the darkling under the table. The third and final mouse bites her fingertip as she lifts and shoves it into her own mouth but the resistance ends as soon as those sharp, filthy teeth are crunching into the poor critter's frame. Mae smiles a chewy smile at Eleanor and ignores the ichor that is dribbling down her chin as she dines on her snack.
The conversation? Half-listened to with a tilt of her head.
Elias finishes off his cookie and looks morosely down at the crumbs that remain of the only thing he was able to get off the table. He sighs and instead starts looking around the room, trying to gauge reactions as people offer up suggestions other than total annihilation. Mae's mouse eating barely gets a blink out of him.
Rook side eyes Deli, the only one to really directly challange him. But he can smell which way the wind is going and the mood of the court, so he doesn't contest. Instead letting the point go with a small nod of his head.
Mae is quickly missing a mouse, it is just gone, no one really sees it happen. It just disapears. Eleanor seeming to pay as much attention to the conversation as her more visible kin.
Marybelle seems to be getting fidgety now, higher tensions making her visibly uncomfortable, even if she seems unlikely to be able to tell why.
But Thomas goes on speaking. "Yes, thank you all for the opinions, and the suggestions. If the cat is out of the bag, we will have to be doubly careful with any inquiries into a breach, but it will be looked into. I will say the opinion of the court is diplomacy, so me and Miss D'Orleans will put together a team for that, as well as continuing our search for survivors. I believe that is all we had to cover for tonight...?"
Solomon gives Delilah a sidelong look. "Hurtful," he murmurs, with a grimace. To Lincoln, he says, "Or it might flush them out. When someone knows they're being hunted, they make mistakes." Mind you, that could apply to...anyone here, for what Lost is NOT being hunted? But as Thomas continues, Solomon relaxes back into his seat. He nods, accepting Thomas' words, even his lips have formed that unhappy little line again, and his feelers are twitching in silent agitation.
Steve turns his head slowly towards Delilah with a little chuckle and a pointed finger. "I got that reference." He winks and turns back to look at the royal court. As the meeting comes to an end he lets out a slow breath. As he does the fire and light around him fades away until it's gone and back to his normal mantle.
Elias crosses his arms over his chest and looks down, his brows pulled low and a look of deep thought on his face. Finally, after a moment he casts a curious look over to Noa and Damon, then shifting his eyes behind towards the exit. Then in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "You think, maybe, we could hit some rides before we headed back into town?"
"So is destroying a baby freehold just because you're afraid of it." Deli claps back at Solomon, though her tone is gentler. Leaning in she sighs. "It worked, though, but we'll have to pull together if we don't want the Court to sway back the other way, right? Getting fussybutt to back off is probably not going to last long unless those that want peace can get our shit together to fight for it." Not quite whispering, but keeping the words semi-private-ish. Eyes track the disappearance of the mousie and she smirks, making taking a tally for herself for getting Mae to share her snack. Maybe they're almost even after Mae tried to get Del eated by Eleanor. Maybe.
Damon eyes the rest of the conversation as it sorta keeps going, before blinking owlishly up at Elias' question. He nods, very quickly, and murmurs at him and Noa, "I'll spring for some cotton candy and funnel cakes..."
Noa replies, "I'll spring for some corn dogs. I've got a crave." But she gets just a little louder and says, "If I think that's gonna go through, I'd rather go join that other freehold. Going around freaking out and destroying others of our kind because they can't imagine how to coexist in peace ain't the way and I won't be part of it." And then she offers Elias the other chocolate chip cookie she'd taken. But not the dum dum.
Sensitive information and evidence isn't being presented in open court, and that's all Lincoln seems to care about. He glances at Solomon when he replies, but otherwise looks away, ignoring the supplied counter-point when the topic seems no longer relevant for debate following Thomas' announcement.
Mae manages another smile toward the darkness that 'was' Eleanor a moment before, then she rises from her crouch and turns to face the crowd. Milky eyes scan each face, hovering on Delilah with a wicked smile before moving on again. Someone says something and the gollum-like woman sets off in motion. Quick footsteps bring the darkling in the 'Harvard' hoody over toward Damon and Noa, the latter getting a quick stare before Mae turns toward the former. She opens her chapped lips and then points a boney finger toward her filthy mouth.
"I mean, in addition to that," Rachel seems to be indicating what Delilah and Noa said, "We should consider... we lost a _lot_ of our strength. Spending what little we have left fighting people that used to be part of our Freehold seems really unwise. Especially if there's any chance we could reunite with them." She frowns slightly, "We could really use them, you know? And they were our friends. Our community."
Logan finally seems to notice that items from his plate have been disappearing faster than he's been eating them. He shoots a look over at Kenny and smirks, shaking his head. It lightens the otherwise heavy mood that seems to have descended. He's still clearly mulling over everything that's going on, though, deciding how he feels about this news and how one exactly combats it. There's a lot of valid points that have been brought up. He nods in Rachel's direction and says, "That, too. We'd be stronger together. The only ones that stand to gain from us causin' more losses between each other is the Gentry."
The mood slowly begins to settle, everyone calming down, and then, it is done. There is just a natural point when there is not anything for the whole court to talk about. Over the next bit, people start to drift off, to disapear. But it truly ends when Donald approaches the throne, holding out his hand to Marybelle, who takes it.
"Oh! Donald! Is it time to see the roses? I miss them so..."
She gets a nod as an answer, and with an almost sad look on his face the elven man leads her off.
Kenny wipes cookie crumbs from his beard and mouth when shoots his gaze towards Logan and notices he's caught. Grinning he gives his beer a lift in salute then quickly drains the contents. Lowering the bottle to his lap he doesn't speak again and focuses his attention on the conversation.
Elias accepts the offered cookie with a small smile. "I just need a mood lightener after that and, well, it's been a while since I've.." He trails off with a shrug, still smiling. Then in the spirit of share and share alike, he breaks it in half and extends one half in the direction of the scampering Mae. Chewing on the end of the other half as he does so. He is careful not to leave his fingers where they could get bit though, should Mae be a little too eager in taking the offering.
As the various conversations veer away from 'business', Solomon gives Delilah another grumpy look. "One man is not an entire court," he mutters at her. As the Queen is led away, his eyes follow her, and he certainly doesn't look _less_ grumpy. To those nearby, he says, "That was interesting, don't you think?"
I'm not so sure They gain anything from us being dead. We have great value to them." Says Steve as he walks towards Logan. "But I agree. We need to stands together. Loosely at least. DO not want to draw a lot of attention. Make ourselves a juicy target." He motions towards himself and his fiery...well everything. "I am willing to offer my aid in all endeavors in fettering out who is who. But I do not think I would be much help in the gathering of information."
Damon finally gets up from the couch and noddles at Elias' agreement before murmuring his assent, "I could use a good roller coaster right now as well as stuffing my face full of sugar. I can even tell you about the kid that puked up on the loop de loop in New York a few months ago..."
"It's more the chaos," Logan says to Steve, "It's easier to pluck us off one by one and take us back if we're scattered and not helping each other out." He gives a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I don't see'm fussin' too much over a few dead if it drives more into their nets." Then he glances over at Solomon and nods, "That it was." He tips back his beer and finishes it off but keeps hold of the bottle. He'll drop it where it belongs on his way out.
Mae turns away from Damon when her finger to mouth gesture goes unanswered and the turning brings Elias, and that half-cookie, into view. Chapped lips twist into a small smile before the small woman steps forward and snatches that half-eaten cookie out of his hand. She eats it quickly, then turns and makes her way toward the exit with no further fanfare.
Noa nods, and says, "That was...very interesting. I have thoughts, but they're not complete enough to let out...Damon, I am not up for a pukefest, dammit. I already had a tequila hangover this week, one of those a week is more than enough! So. Roller coaster BEFORE sugar."
Damon grins at Noa and bobs his head, "I can do that!" He bounces a little, then seems to remember he still has a cookie in his hand, right about the time he sees Mae pointing at her mouth. Cookie. Mouth. Back to cookie. Hey, the brain is working, and the fairest finally bounds up to Mae, showing a startling lack of self-preservational skills, and offers the cookie.
Solomon sighs. "Well. We'll see what can be done to set things right before more blood is spilled than needs to me," he murmurs. He stands up, still looking troubled. "It was nice to meet you, to some extent," he tells those nearby he hasn't yet been introduced to. "Hope to have a chance to do better introductions, at some later point. For now, I think I'll head home." He eyes the spot where all the food no longer is. "...I'll stop by a sandwich place, and THEN head home."
Rachel having apparently been abandoned, at least by those standing closest to her, at least spots Solomon announcing his departure and nods to him. "Safe travels, Doc."
Elias grins after Mae, and pops to his feet, finishing off the rest of his half of the cookie. Solomon gets a nod and a murmured, "Elias." Then he's falling into stride with Noa and Damon, just nodding his agreement to her suggested order of events. "It's been a while, I don't trust my stomach completely to handle loop-de-loops full. Maybe it's good I didn't get a beer."
Delilah quiets a bit, watching the main of the court disassemble slowly, brows al scrunched up as she works on some big thoughts, then sighs. "Not a bad idea. I have to get home to Gizmo and see if Edwin's going to grumpy. He's always grumpy. 'Deleh, dontchoo steal no more coke'." She even wags her finger a bit, before snickering. "You know how to get ahold of me if my axes are needed." She says, rising and patting her lower back as she readies to depart.
"Oops. Solomon, this is Damon, this is Elias. Damon, Elias, that's Solomon. Who's the other one I met, that I'd mentioned." And Noa, having done something approaching introductions of the only three people in the room she knows, adds to Delilah, "I'm Noa, by the way. Thanks for the lollipop!"
"Elias. Damon. Nice to meet you." On his way towards the door, Solomon slips by Rachel, and musters a smile. "Aw, here I was really hoping that I'd get mugged. Might be decent therapy." He leans in closer to her and says quietly, "If you're up for it, perhaps one day after class, I'd like to bend your ear for a few minutes? Or if after class isn't good, just text me a time that works, if any do." There is a startled blink in Delilah's direction at the _don't steal no more coke_ line, but he visibly decides to not ask, because then he'd know, and that's probably a crime just to know. Instead, he slips away.
With Court wrapped up, Lincoln once more pushes off whatever support or wall or heavy object he was leaning against and stuffs his hands into his pockets, fishing about for his habit-satisfying pack of smokes and a lighter. Rather than fade back into the shadows and fuck off to whatever hole he resides in full-time though, he meanders closer to Lyra falls into step next to her, leaning down a bit to murmur something to her with a half grin and a quiet chuckle before he straightens, electing to remain at her side at least for a bit whether she leaves or stays.
Some big emotions are swirling through Lyra as she watches the Queen depart, but as others begin to disperse, she shakes them off. A glance toward Maya and then a nudge is given to her friend before Lincoln drifts over. She offers a murmured greeting and a half-smile to him before she nods and sighs. "Let's get some coffee and talk about all--" Lyra gestures broadly to just indicate the Court and the conversations. And then, the umbrella was brought back up and popped open this time so the ladybug could be seen. She made to leave with Lincoln and Maya, holding a quiet conversation with the pair as they drifted slowly out and away.
"A few is a lot of us." Says Steve with a nods and he grabs the bottom edges of his surcoat at his hips and gives a little tug to adjust and straighten is. He smiles and turns to head for the exit. "I have got a hollow to finish." His voice raises as he looks over his shoulder before he exits. "Try not to get dead yall." Then is out the door.
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