There are no drinks.
There are no snacks.
The tables and chairs, as infinitely cosy and expandable as they are, are beginning to fill with concerned changelings of all stripes, friends and motleys huddling together with worried expressions and darting looks up toward the council table where the councilors sit in quiet consultation.
Meredith Ryan, Summer Queen, sits toward the middle of the table, in her customary spot, and the flaming crown of heat, light and iron-seeming spear-points on her brow is giving off more of a heat haze than usual. Point in fact, she's positively simmering. Ashe's vacant chair for Autumn is left on Meredith's other side, and Reginald Pook of Spring has tactfully hop-scooted his chair a bit to the side, closer to Heather Vale of Dawn, to avoid being quite as much within the sweat-inducing simmer-range. Nonetheless, he does dab his forehead with a lace-edged silk handkerchief to ensure he doesn't do something so unseemly as visibly sweating.
Boudreau was polite enough to extinguish his cigarette before entering, but the scent still clings to him, along with the smell of stale beer and whiskey. Woe betide those of low Wyrd, as the strange Dusk is damping out Mantles left and right (Wyrd 8) like he did that cig. His dice eyes are whirring through numbers like a one armed bandit and it isn't until he sits down that they settle on a two in the left, a three in the right. He doffs his hat towards the Queen and sits wide legged, toying with the hat brim with his agile fingers. He seems concerned, but not very so, the age weighing on him heavy expecting this to resolve like everything has. Or not.
Since he was going through the Hedge, and with three people accompanying him, Damion went for full gear today. Armor, sword, revolver. He made sure that Haruki, Widget and Max stayed close to him as they moved, and kept an eye out for any dangers that might show up. He guides them down to some of the more frontward seats, and then settles into one himself. He looks over the others and then says, "Remember. No talking unless asked to, alright?" That... was mostly aimed at Widget. But he didn't want to single her out.
Haruki's not a fan of the hedge at all, or of emergency meetings and he is rather anxious. He settles himself down beside Damion, leaning against the dragon.
Anyone familiar with Max hasn't seen her around for awhile. Who knows where she went, it wasn't the first time she's disappeared. Tonight, however, she's in tow with Damion and others as the group heads into the area. There's a small pause as she enters the room, ice blue eyes surveying over the area. Perhaps looking for someone, or perhaps just looking. Her attention returns to Damion, brow raising just slightly. Then she shrugs as she sits. The young woman is dressed casually, just a t- shirt and jeans, with her hair worn down in loose waves.
Widget's not very sure what this is all about, but it seems important. She's just got her usual jumpsuit, oversized, ancient, and filthy. Not that she's very clean herself, but still. The gremlin was more interested in everyone else, staring at all the new faces and trying very hard to listen to Damion. No talking. Okay. She could do that.
Fidget Fidget.
There are no snacks.
Widget slowly tries to reach into her jumpsuit, hoping to fix that. She was really hungry.
Haruki brought snacks with him, healthy snacks. In fact his bag is full of them. He offers Widget a banana to begin with.
Contrary to Damion's advice, other groups are talking just fine. Why, Widget can see at least twelve different people having hushed conversations and speculating about what on earth -- or not on earth, as the case may be -- happened to prompt such a quickly gathered meeting.
Helah Morgenstern of Sun, keen-eyed, notices Widget, and taps the table to catch Meredith's attention. Meredith glances Helah's way, then follows the lift of the Sun's chin toward Damion and Widget's little group, both Widget and Max getting attention, but it's the stranger gremlin she settles on.
"If you're here to pledge, come on up."
The middling-height 5'5" Summer with the stark ebony/ivory divided body springs up to her feet with all the restless energy of a cat whose prey is too far away to catch, but still well within sight.
Shifting around to get more comfortable, Damion curls an arm around the no doubt nervous Haruki in a protective way. He absently scratches at the scalp of the fidgety gremlin as well. His attention is mostly on the council though, and the Queen in particular. Emergeny meetings are rarely to share sudden good news, so he's expecting to hear about a fan that has a sudden increase in the amount of fecal matter coating it. He smiles a little as Haruki passes fruit to Widget, then listens carefully. At the words from Meredith, he nods down at her. "Go on up, Wij. Remember what we talked about with the Pledge?" He motions towards the Queen, then adds in a whisper, "Be polite."
Boudreau runs a hand through his hair. The move only tames the scruff on his head a little. The little group gets his attention and a quick nod and smile.
Logan has also arrived with Damion, Max, Haruki and Widget, though he can probably take care of himself just fine. Still, it's always good to go into the Hedge with a group! He's donned his white Prince Charming-like Hedgespun apparel, rapier strapped to his side, and the light around him glows, chased as always by a shadow. He grins at the others in the group -- particularly Max, since she hasn't been around -- before taking a seat with the others, looking perfectly composed and relaxed and not at all like this is an emergency meeting. But that's Fairest for ya.
Damion notices the nod from Boudreau, giving a small smile and nod in return. Then he looks back up to the main stage.
Logan gets a certain look from Max as they wait for the meeting to start. Like he's familiar but she can't really place why beyond what she's been told. Her gaze doesn't linger though as she looks back to the Queen.
Widget hops off of the chair, going over to where she's directed to...do something. She stands there for a minute, looking rather confused. She...wait. She wasn't supposed to talk but there was this thing she had to say she was pretty sure but she should wait until she was told to say it....right? Right.
So the tiny Wyrd 1 noob is just standing there, looking lost.
Haruki will keep waving the banana at Widget. "It's okay, you can talk," he says to her. "For the oath. Are you okay? Want someone to go up with you?" His voice quiet, he really doesn't want to draw attention to himself, but he's so worried.
Meredith may be simmering with suppressed rage (okay, poorly-suppressed), but she's calm enough when addressing Widget. She studies the smaller woman, then nods once, as if satisfied by something she saw. "You've read the bylaws? You understand the rules?" She waits for a confirmation, then starts in on, "I'll say it one line at a time, and you recite it back, 'kay?"
--
I pledge my time, my talents and my fealty to Fate's Harvest.
I swear that I no longer serve the Fae, nor will I while this promise stands; that while I am under its protection I will obey the principles and bylaws of the Fate's Harvest Freehold as ratified by Monarch and Council, in return for the support and safety they provide.
May I perish in exile, should I be forsworn.
--
Not the most focused on social niceties, Meredith.
Widget nods, inhales, exhales, and does her best to recite the Pledge.
"I pledge my time, my talents and my fealty to Fate's Harvest.
I swear that I no longer serve the Fae, nor will I while this promise stands; that while I am under its protection I will obey the principles and bylaws of the Fate's Harvest Freehold as ratified by Monarch and Council, in return for the support and safety they provide.
May I perish in exile, should I be forsworn."
That felt....really really weird. She'd used words. /Correctly/. Still, when she finishes talking, she looks up at Meredith with an oddly hopeful expression. Did she do it right?
There is a sound, a sound that is both incredibly familiar to nearly everyone in the world, and yet alien at the same time. It is the sound of someone clearing their throat, were their throat made from eels writhing around in dish soap.
Wet footfalls follow the sound before another gurgling emanation from the throat of... what looks to be some waif of a girl.
Slender yes, definitely, lithe, sleek even and she moves like silk in the wind... she is striking, with long dark hair that gleams in the light, and that dress, it clings to her so... very wetly.
When one looks closer they notice the paleness of her skin is distinctly greenish, lighter at her throat and the inside of her arms and wrists, with a few mottled brown spots here and there. her skin glistens as if she had just emerged from a pool, but the truth is... less pleasant. A sort of slime seems to excrete from her skin, and her eyes are large frog-like saucers, and when she lifts a hand her fingers are webbed.
Lips like a pair of earthworms press together and for a third time she clears her throat, like a mating call to Smeagol.
Meredith nods to Widget and holds out a hand for a shake. "Done well, kid. I'm Meredith." Catching the slimy frog-lady clearing her throat, she leans over the table to pat the gremlin's shoulder and give her a little nudge toward Damion and co. "Go sit. We can have a proper chit chat later. Got a frog to deal with."
Listening as Widget recites the oath, Damion smiles as she gets it right. He waits for the gremlin to return to the seat with him, then turns his head to consider the froglike lady that just arrived. He studies her curiously. She doesn't seem as Other as the Gentry that just randomly showed up in the Wayhouse one day (THAT was alarming), so he's assuming this is just another Lost he's not familiar with. It's not like he knows everybody in the Freehold.
Widget shakes Meredith's hand, no doubt leaving a fair bit of unpleasant residue. Still, she did okay? Okay! The gremlin looks at the frog woman with intense interest before padding back over to the group and sitting near (or on), the closest person who accepts it. Like Haruki, who offered the gremlin a snack.
She stares out, eyes flickering as she munches on the banana as quietly as she can.
Boudreau's smile at the pledging quickly drops as that gurgling noise is made. He turns intently and intensely to look at the greenish woman, body tense with fight, flight, or...something else.
Her shoulders rise and fall as she stands there, waiting, and a tilt of her head reveals a glimpse of gills opening and closing, and then something clicks together, a realization that she is out of breath. most people would notice a sweating, but she is so... slimy that the relative dampness of skin is no indication what so ever of exertion.
"We saw them!" Her voice is smooth and high pitched, like a gurgling streamlet interrupted by a sound that might be compared tot he stomach grumbling of the very hungry. "We heard them too!" Great she is a Gollum Reanactor... no, wait something is moving under her dress, something that then falls... no, PLOPS, down tot he floor with a soaking splat of a sound, something pale and as slimy as she that... yes, those are tentacles, and that is an octopus crawling back up her leg, and thin time on the outside of her clothing, one suckered tendril at a time until it's draped over her shoulders like a shawl.
"They are..." a pause while she lays a hand on the wall for balance,. attemptiong to keep the squelchingg fear from her voice. "They attacked, one of us. They are.. " she's snapping her finger, searching for a word at the tip of her black engorged tongue when a rasp like grinding molush shells pipes up for her "BOUNTIES!"
"..tes, Bounties." the Amphbian Princess continues. "On our heads!"
"Why?" Logan speaks up, though he doesn't stand. His clear, calm voice can easily be heard, though. "And whom? Are there bounties on ALL of our heads?" He sounds concerned, but not alarmed. Too composed for that.
"Do we have water for this woman?" Boudreau's rough, gravelly voice rings out. Clearly, he's trying to keep the frog lady (and her friend) reasonably hydrated in their time of distress. He stands up and walks over to whatever source is available to get her something.
Meredith gestures for the froggy woman to continue. She doesn't look surprised, and neither do any of the other Council members. "Please, tell them what you told us. We need to spread this to as many members as possible, as quickly as possible, and I know not everyone uses their phones."
There is no water -here-, but if Boudreau is willing to scoot out to the garden a bit farther off inside the great big Hollow complex which serves as Stoneheart, there is a spring there.
Max frowns lightly as she listens to the woman, also taking a quick glance to see the reaction of others. There's a nod to Logan's question before she asks, "What is the reward for our heads?"
Haruki has a couple of bottles of water in his bag, along with all of the snacks. He'll offer it over to... Damion! There Damion can be hospitable.
Damion glances towards those sitting near himk, a frown settling over his features as he listens to the amphibious Lost. Bounties? On who exactly? Though Logan already asks that question, saving him the trouble. And then Boudreau address the other issue, that she seems to be closer to aquatic than amphibian. He smiles a little at Haruki, and stands. Moving over to the froggy lady, he offers her bottles of water ot her. "Here. This should help until he gets back with more, I hope."
Widget is sorting through her many pockets, trying to distract from the fact that she joined about two seconds ago and someone already wanted to put her head in a bag and sell it for money. Let's see. Bolts, nails, some bottle caps, lint, steel wool, .25 cartridges, some old razor blades, a shiny rock, iron filings, multiple dead insects... Oh! Now she had snacks for the frog lady!
Widget is trying, honest. Even if it means trying give some dead flies to a scared Lost.
Boudreau walks off, meeting be damned, wandering in search of...water. He finds the spring, but comes up short in the container contest. So he uses his hat. Soon he returns, look a tad pitiful for all his crazy dice eyes-ness, his fedora full of water. He looks a little sheepish that the dragony guy has taken care of business, but pleased that it has happened all the same. He puts his hat full of water on the ground for the octopus, then goes back to his seat.
"What?! I didn't go and ask them for details!" The voice that comes from the soggy throat is, for just a moment, indignant and loses that trembling upset quality. She tosses her head but the long black hair that drapes from her scalp barely moves, clinging to the viscous clear slime that seeps from her pores. Then there's that mollusk shell grinding again and she appears to be listening to the octopus on her shoulders and seems to sort of deflate a little with a gurgling sound.
"Hobs, talking about the bounty, big reward, lots of.. things, enough to last them for ages and ages."
And then she sort of looks off to the distance and smiles, revealing teeth like a fist full of pearls. "It is nice isnt it? To be wanted?"
Better late than never Clio strolls through the door to the broken hearth and over to a place to sit. She brought beer which, once she's settled and has found something to throw her feet up on she sets down to open one. Maybe she's just here to spectate? Watching the squishy woman as she talks about the Hobs with acute interest but still just observing for now while her mout is occupie with alchohol.
Max answers the possibility rhetorical question with a "No." It's said flatly and with a small shake of her head.
Damion thinks for a time. "So. They didn't say who the bounty was on, specifically? If it's for anybody from the Freehold, or any Lost at all.... maybe they're planning on abducting a bunch of us. But if it's just a few of us...hmm." He studies the froggy lady. "Miss, I'm afraid I don't recognize you. Are you part of the Freehold? We can keep you safe, if you're one of the people they're after." Since she apparently doesn't want the waters he just holds them for now.
Widget really wants to try and pet that octopus, but she didn't want to get in trouble. So she settles for going over and placing some suitably-fishy snacks next to the water bowl before padding back. Perhaps it's best not to question why she had a half-eaten tin of sardines in her jumpsuit.
Widget's no stranger to people trying to take her away for Bad Things, so she has some ideas to help. But she couldn't talk so she'd do the next best thing. THe gremlin gets out a heavily stained piece of paper and a crayon she stole from that diner she likes, starting to sketch and scrawl. Plans. Blueprints. Traps and tricks and lovely things to hurt the Bad People. Anyone trying to read it is going to get quite the headache. It makes sense to /her/ at least.
Meredith stays quiet while the slimy frog takes centre stage, but once it seems like she's mentally wandering off, the Summer raps her knuckles on the tabletop to catch attention. "Folks, you've heard it first hand. I've heard it second-hand from others, and we're not the only ones being grabbed. Got a few non-freeholders out there saying they were snatched up, interrogated, and set free when they weren't one of -us-."
She looks around the room, fixes black/white eyes on Widget, then quirks a wry, unamused smile. "You sure picked a fun time to join up, kid. Don't worry. We protect each other."
Standing, the Summer Queen tells the room, "These are our goals:
1. Keep anyone else from being caught.
2. Be VERY fu--uh, careful in the Hedge. Go in groups. Go in stealth. Or don't go at all, and have one of the Harvestmen go for you, if it's something you can avoid for a while.
3. Find out why the f--udge we have a bounty out on us and STOP it. Preferably with some head-pounding. Or shooting. Shooting would be nice."
Logan actually smiles at the mention of shooting. What? Shooting is great. He puts a hand up, to be polite, and then inquires of the Summer Queen, "Is it possible that this could be connected to our long-quiet nemeses, The Soundless?" A shrug. "Just a query."
Calliope smiles bigger and chugs her beer setting it down with a cheerful, "Fan fucking tastic!" She's practically grinning from ear to ear and sorry Darklings her wattage just went up and she's practically going. "I can't fuckin' wait."
Haruki leans in to whisper something to Damion.
Meredith points at Logan, gun-fingers style. "We don't know. We don't have the intel on that, but I'll be asking Charlie--" she glances toward the Winter, "--and his Court to work with any other spies we have." After a wry look up and down at Logan, she adds, "Preferably less flashy than you, but if you can hide all that, you and anyone else, you've got my blessing. The less Wyrd the better. We don't want to stand out, and we already know they're damn slippery."
Lightly raising her hand to bring attention to her, Max speaks up again. "If anyone knows these non-Freeholders that have been caught and released, I'd like to speak to them. Perhaps I can gleam some helpful information from them," she offers.
Well. Looks like things are going to get exciting for a bit here. Damion isn't particularly worred about himself. He can take care of himself. But... he eyes the tiny gremlin, and the two mortals. "We should take care of this as soon as possible. Not everybody can defend themselves." He looks around the assembly. "Anybody that has a reason they need to go into the Hedge, and can't find a guardian, feel free to contact me. I'll help whenever I'm able." Then he leans down to listen to whatever Haruki whispered, and whispers back.
Speaking of "less Wyrd", Carter is... decidedly not. The Devil seems to carry a spotlight with him as he steps into the meeting room, leaning heavily on his cane, and peers about at the assembled Lost. When he spots Boudreau, he lifts a hand in greeting and begins to limp his way down towards him.
Meredith swaps that gun-finger over to Max. "Ditto what she said. Welcome back, too. Hope you got what you went out for, Max." The Summer Queen raises her voice to suggest, "Folks, work together, and grab those who couldn't get here tonight. I don't care who does what. I want results. If anyone goes missing, if a friend is out of touch more than a day, BE the reactionary twit who calls the militia down and searches their house to find them. We've got to keep on top of this. Work with your subgroups, work with your Courts. Report back to your subgroup leaders, Court leaders, or me, in that order."
Hearing the question from Haruki, she nods. "So far." Carter's .. ah, very noticeable entry sparks a disgruntled look, but the Queen has been disgruntled for most of the evening. "Summary for the big guy: hobs are kidnapping Changelings for some unspecified but lucrative bounty. We want to know who, why, and how to stop it."
Meredith also squints toward Widget and the blueprint. Thing. Paper. Paper with stuff on it.
"Uh... yeah. Just don't kill 'em if you don't have to. We want to get 'em to talk, not start a full-blown war."
Boudreau leans towards Carter and adds, sotto voce, "They're doing catch and release if you're not in the freehold. Still ain't fun."
Max offers a smile to the Queen, brief but genuine. "I dropped it off before coming here," she assures her. Priorities! Unable to help herself, her attention gets drawn to the table with all the Wyrd. She eyes the two men momentarily, eventually able to pry her gaze away and back to the Queen.
Damion moves back to his seat, bringing Haruki and Widget with him as he does. Settling in again he hmms. "Wij, I don't want you trying to build any traps on your own... and you have to be careful not to catch anybody from the Freehold in it by accident." He leans back in his seat, eyes closing. "Mmm." Finally they open again, and he focuses on the Queen. "Is there any particular area the Hobs have been doing their abductions?"
Calliope uuughs at the restriction and she dims though not considerably. Still all powered up at the idea of some good old fashioned hedge stomping, "Fuckin fiiine." She grumbles under her breath. Appearently someone is none-to-shy about her hate-on for hob kind. She sniffs a little and picks up another beer.
Carter has made no attempt to make his entrance any more noticeable than it has to be. It just so happens that it has to be quite noticeable indeed, considering the sheer weight of the Wyrd that surrounds him. He inclines his head towards Meredith when an explanation is offered, then offers, "Unfortunately, my martial skills leave quite a lot to be desired, though I may be useful as an interrogator. How many of us have been kidnapped thus far?"
"Could we ask at the market?" Haruki asks. "Will they likely know?"
Meredith, upon hearing Damion, lifts a hand in irritable ignorance. "Don't have enough intelligence on that either. This is an emergency, and no one should take this lightly. We've got to be on our feet, in this world and the normal." One brow lifts. "Remember. THEY can use Hedge Gates the same as we do."
Hearing Calliope, she helpfully points out, "If they attack you first, it's technically self defense..."
Carter and Haruki get a collective, "None that we've found yet, but we're still going through the metaphorical phone tree to see if everyone's accounted for. Damned pledge doesn't tell me when you folks are kidnapped, so that's useless there. If you want to check at the Wild Roses, you're welcome to self-assign that charming task to you and anyone else you want to risk with it. We need to know."
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