Finally feeling more like Autumn than Summer, though still humid enough to make the task of breathing more akin to swimming, the evening is chilly and clear, quarter moon hidden behind the curve of the planet. On the way into the Wayhouse, it's clear that SOMEone has been busy in the gardens, frost-cloths protecting the more delicate flowers and leaves of ornamentals and herbs alike from the killing cold to come before the dawn.
The inside of the Wayhouse, as always, is a comfortable temperature for most, not too hot and not too cold, though admittedly, it's on the comfortably cool end of things rather than the cozy warm fireplace end. November is presently tossing darts at the dartboard on the basement door, dressed in a casual outfit of a pleated black cotton skirt, black-and-purple plaid ankle socks, fluorescent pink and purple running shoes and, above that, a long sky blue tee with a fraying, stretched and cut-out collar over a bright orange tank. The t-shirt, complete with depiction of lacy red lingerie draped over a stack of books, reads, 'I go to bed with a different author every night.'
Nathania wanders into the Wayhouse wearing a burnt sienna handknit sweater and blue jeans, with boots on her feet. Her messenger bag is slung across her body, but she's fishing inside once she hits the inner door to find her knitting. "Hey, November," she says warmly to the rainbow. "How.. are you tonight?" she adds. Settling in nearby, she takes off her messenger bag and pulls her knitting free of it in one motion before sitting fully.
Just behind Nathania is Gisa, who wears her usual t-shirt, now with a cardigan over top, and jeans, carrying a book. (Revolutionary Yiddishland, for anyone who's checking.) The golem trundles ove to a chair and settles in, paperback resting on her knees. "Shalom aleichem, Waylady. Hand." Nathania's beaten her to the question, so Gisa doesn't reiterate it.
"Fine and dandy, thank you much," comes the light reply, a final dart thrown (poorly) to empty her hand and free her to go drop onto a perch on the padded arm of an armchair. "We don't have much to discuss tonight, so I'll keep it brief. Her Royal Ashe-liness hasn't given me any specific instructions to the contrary, so we'll continue as we have been, regarding the Soundless: watch and learn, don't take independent action to initiate diplomacy on their own ground. Samantha Whitaker seems to be in a quiet phase, and I, for one, would like to learn why. Either of you have more information there?"
Nathania frowns softly and shakes her head. "Afraid I burned... that bridge long ... ago," she says, after smiling warmly to Gisa. She then focuses on the matter at hand once more, hands filled with... cream-colored yarn, and *lots* of it, from the looks of things. Lacy and lots of yardage. Huh. "I wasn't... Hand, then, but I still... feel slightly... frustrated and... irritated in... myself. Ah well." She's trying to let that go! Honestly!
"I have seen neither hide nor scale of Samantha Whittaker since the party that Logan threw several months ago," Gisa answers, shaking her head slightly. The flames in the firepits of her eyes dance subtly. "Nor heard much of her. Logan went to the Goblin Market to try to get more information on her, and honestly, I believe the merchant may have broken the laws of the Market -- in any case, that's for him to pursue, and he was done very badly for. No information gained there." A small shrug.
November acknowledges the responses, both, with a brisk nod and a pause for thought. Looking to Gisa first, she muses, "There may not have been information for them to give. Were I going into hiding, the Market is the last place I would want to advertise my presence, precisely -because- such information is a commodity. Given what Ashe has learned from her contacts among the remnants of the Silver Tree, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if there were a strong Winter presence in the group, but speculation's just that: not fact." She strums human-seeming fingers on one thigh, then shakes her head, flicking away the subject with a graceful gesture and a mild, "Do you have any thoughts for events to hold in the near future? Preferably events which will include the masses of unpledged individuals, naturally, to woo them into the Freehold's arms, but 'holder only gatherings are perfectly fine, too.
"Nameless... Mourning is... coming up... in early... Winter, should we get... the Crown that... season," Nathania says thoughtfully. "Otherwise, no. I can't think... of anything. And nothing at all... Waykeeper appropriate, I'm afraid."
"Yes, but they charged as though they had the information. It very much smelled of dealing in bad faith." The Golem's head shakes slowly, and she adds, "As I said, it is Logan's to pursue if he chooses. I myself will buy my contracts through Freeholders when possible, given that experience." Gisa leans back in her chair, listening. "I had some success prior with running a Shabbos dinner for Dawn; it will be much easier to run such a thing more generally, for not just the Court but for anyone who might wish to come and join us for dinner and community. A way to get people talking who might wish to join but have questions, and if they do not have questions, a way to come and learn about us."
Nodding again, November breathes a quiet laugh and points out, "Moon will surely try to gain enough influence this season to claim the Crown, though at the moment, leadership within the Court is, as usual, scattered... I'm sure Helah will appreciate it ever so much if they succeed in beating out Winter." Ahhh, yes. The bliss. Tricksters may require -other- people to adhere to strict order and law, but do it themselves? Perish the thought. Looking to Gisa, she agrees, "Let's do that, then. Get people's bellies full and minds open. I haven't heard anything from Amber or Andromeda for a while. Have you? No other prospective recruits have mentioned joining up."
Nathania grins and shakes her head. She doesn't say anything, just looks brightly amused. But, she engrosses herself in what looks like... a mile of binding off tiny stitches. Okay, not a mile. But a lot of tiny stitches to bind off in a pretty lace piece that could be a square tablecloth, almost.
"I will do that, then," agrees Gisa simply enough, adding, "I have never met Amber nor Andromeda, I do not think." And it is only then that Gisa seems to notice what Nathania is binding off, and the golem's head tips forward, their white cheeks literally briefly glowing from within. Dem Firehearts. A clearing of their throat. "Perhaps Pilar might be suited to the job. I could ask her."
November slides her phone out of a pocket in her skirt, seemingly consulting things on its surface once she turns it on. "...aaand that marks all of the topics I had in mind for the evening. Nathania, why don't you work with Gisa in planning out the event? Get some more mentor-mentee supervised time in there before the next Court session." The phone is clicked off and slid back into her skirt, weight shifting on her perch to straighten a hair. "Any other questions before we call the meeting adjourned?"
Nathania smiles and shakes her head. "No, Waylady," she says cheerfully, but doesn't look up from the important and delicate task of taking yarn off needles without unraveling it. "This was a good... meeting."
A little shake of the golem's head. "I should have the requisite contract shortly," Gisa comments, "But that is a comment, not a question. Thank you, Waylady. This was an informative meeting."
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