Log:The Seal and the Mermaid

The Seal and the Mermaid
Participants Regina and Etsy with a cameo by Sorrel	28 August, 2017 A chance meeting at the Wayhouse between the threat and the threatened. It's complicated, but food uncomplicates, a little.
Location
"Knight of the Knowledge of the Tongue?" the Elemental echoes, canting his head while processing that. Sorrel does shake the offered hand, but after remaining on that title for a few seconds longer. "Sorrel Yarrow, Brother of the Endless Road, and also Spring." As he withdraws his hand he tucks away his phone with the other, and looks down to that bag for a beat. "What's at Knight of the Tongue thing? Is that like someone that fights wiht talking?" Regina, who is wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the shoulders, is standing near Sorrel holding up a cloth bag of the sort that people use as re-usable grocery totes. When he asks her for more information about her Entitlement she laughs and says, "I think I already answered that question. Like I said," she gives the bag a little bounce. "I brought treats! We're knights of the kitchen, culinary crusaders, bannerets of brewing, paladins of the pastry!" She shrugs her muscled shoulders and lowers the bag. "Would you care for an eclair?" After those words she pauses, blinks once, and lets out another jovial but rather barking laugh. "That rhyme wasn't intended." There's a distant sound of nonsense singing coming from outside: high, sweet, a siren's song, no words to speak of. Occasionally there's a counterpoint, a rougher-sounding warble, but mostly it's just the siren's song, getting closer. Sorrel is lazily dressed in jeans, white t-shirt, and currently sans shoes. He looks back down to the bag when Regina lifts it for emphasis. "Oh? Oh! I'd love one, and I rhyming isn't bad," he notes while glancing down at the bag once more. "I never would've guessed there were knights of the kitchen or paladins of pastry, but that sounds pretty difficult. The most I can really manage is what's in a box, and only needs me to stir in a few things." Regina's expression becomes quizical when she hears the voice outside, and then lights up with an unrestrained joy. "That voice!" she proclaims. "I know it!" She reaches out with the bag and presses it at Sorrel. "Here. These come in boxes, but I promise you don't even need to stir anything in. They're eclairs." Then she heads toward the door, and when she arrives at it she swings it open and bellows, "siren! You escaped!" Without actually having set eyes on Etsy yet. She's definitely excited about this, in a good way. The siren in question, Etsy, freezes cold when she spots the large seal woman. Her reaction is momentary before the otter at her ankle touches her skin, and she gestures toward said otter, a smile blossoming big on her pale face. She shows no teeth, though. "I did! And you did! And I am havings an otters!" A gesture toward the blue-furred creature at her side, who rises up to its rear feet and takes what might be a tiny bow. "What is callings a self?" It's fine, Etsy's not bone-terrified of the giant woman, we're all fine here, how are you? "Hmm?" Sorrel looks to the door when Regina exlclaims about the presence of another. Just as the Elemental picks up the sound he takes hold of the bag of snacks. When he spots Etsy he offers a hasty wave before checking over what's in the bag. "Hello again," he says while sitting the bag back down. "I appreciate the offer, Ms. Hazard, but it'd probably do me far too much bad to take all of that home." As he makes for the door he offers a nod to Etsy, "And it's good seeing you in good spirits once more." With that said the Pilgrim heads for the exit with a bevy of greenery and flowers sprouting up and disappearing with his every footfall. It's in complete obliviousness to the terror she's instilling that Regina advances on Etsy, her arms spread wide in celebration that might seem terrifying and profoundly unwelcome. "I'm so glad! What a horrible place, and how wonderful that others made it back." Fortunately she doesn't actually try to grab Etsy in a big bear (or seal) hug and stops a few feet away. "I'm calling a self Regina. Regina Hazard." She lowers her arms annd looks down at the little blue otter. "Oh my goodness, you are just so adorable!" Sorrel leaving the bag aside for her and taking off gets a brief disappointed look, like she's sad someone doesn't want to stay and be her friend, but her attention is mostly for Etsy anyway. "What are you calling yourself? And your little and wonderfully cute friend?" she asks the mermaid. It's good for all and sundry that Etsy has learned -- painfully, over many years -- to hide her reactions. Flowerings are very, very good at hiding their feelings, and Etsy is a very very good flower. The siren's sweet smell fills the air, her Spring mantle plays over the ground in green running vines and tiny white flowers. She is a wash of want and sea air, this one. When she's declared adorable, she curtseys, her tatty-slippered feet light on the ground. "Is how am having a survives," explains Etsy easily. "Too cute to kill." She might be sarcastic there, but she might be truthful, too. "Regina Hazard! Must meet a Reggie Danger. Reggie Danger is an otters and a friends." The otter rolls its dark eyes at mention of the otter. It might be jealous. "Am an Esther Swift, everyone is calling an Etsy. Long ago ex-boyfriend calling me Etsy, and it sticks. This is the mrbl." It sounds more like a sound of discontent than a name. "Is my friend hedgebeast otter. How long ago is an escapes of you?" "I do think I like that way of surviving better than many of them," proclaims Regina, in approval oof using cuteness as a defensive trait. "It's far better than..." Her eyes widen and she takes a step back. "Than having to kill everything," she says, having just had it dawn on her that it's even possible Etsy might not be glad to see her. Partly because she wants a closer look at mrbl and also because it's harder to be threatening when squatting, she lowers herself down and holds a hand out toward the otter. She's still nearly as tall as some people, even when crouched. "It's good to meet you, mrbl. I promise I don't plan to eat you. Either of you." Looking up at Etsy once again she says, "it was something like 45 years ago in this world when I returned. I guess that's the answer, even if I have no idea what that means in terms of that place." She almost spits the last words, her gregariousness momentarily overhwlmed by anger. When recognition of Etsy's potential fear hits the seal, Etsy sort of... deflates a little bit. Back to normal-sized, rather than seeming as though she might be making herself seem larger, the way that some animals react to predators. Her Mantle still spreads around her like a blanket, tangling over and around everything, sweeping the air clean with a salt-spray scent. "Is a far betters," agrees Etsy. "Is not only you who did a killings, there. And obviously did not do a killings of me." Her webbed hands spread out gently at her sides, a calming gesture. "If thinking that it was for an eats, would have gone. Am good at going aways now." Etsy's head bobs once, twice, listening. "Am not rememberings how long ago was my escapes. At least years seven, eight. Before when was living in a Maines, was sort of... feral." Shrug. "Maybe one year, maybe ten." "No," Regina says when Etsy is done, as her annger gives way to sorrow. "It wasn't only me who did a killings." She doesn't seem to realize she's copying the phrasing. One flippery hand comes to to rub over her head. "I try not to do a killings at all now, when I can help it. Well," her too-big mouth pulls into a big smile, one that shows terrifyingly long canines and teeth meant for rending flesh. "Not people anyway. A girl still has to eat. Oh, that reminds me! I brought treats! Do you like eclairs?" She rises up to her full height again and goes over to get the bag that Sorrel left behind. "I'm a Knight of the Knowledge of the Tongue, now. A Spring courtier, too! Hah! It's pretty common for people to mimic Etsy's phrasing, at least in small bits, when they're talking to the mermaid for long periods of time. "I do not do much of a killings, unless I am having to. Do more of a rescuings." Etsy shifts her shoulders; there's a map case slung across her back for some reason. "Sometimes have to kill things in the Hedge, and not usually kill a people." Pause. "Oh. Um. I cannot eats anything unless it is only a meats, or an eggs, or a honeys. I cannot eat a plants." One webbed hand comes up, wrapping one of her black curly locks around a finger, absently disturbing the flowers in said hair. "Hmm. I know one other Knight. He is here, in town. His name Count." Her nose wrinkles up a little bit, dismissive gesture. "Better cook, you, probably." "Rescuing's a good thing to do," Regina agrees, fully endorsing this approach to things. "Espsecially if it doesn't require killing anyone to do it. Unfortunately, killing and cooking are pretty much my best talents, and cooking doesn't usually rescue anyone. Except from their hunger!" She lets out a seal-bark laugh. "Only meat, and eggs, and honey?" She puts the bag back down and looks thoughtful, then slings the backpack off of her back. "I have chocolate marrow cake, but chocolate might not work. Oh!" She opens the backpack and takes out a cloth bundle, which she opens up. "Sausage! I made this out of a strange lizard in the hedge. Its meat was spicy, because faerieland logic is occasionally delicious." In the bundle there are two sausages, one of which has had slices cut off of it, and a brick of cheese, and some bread. "I'll promise to remember to prepare for meat-only people next time. Do you eat cheese?" What do you do when you meet someone who spent decades being terrified you might eat them and might still be viscerally frightened of you? You feed them. Naturally. Eating together builds bridges! Also, of course the gristlegrinder's backpack is just full of food. "Can has a chocolates," assures Etsy, "As long is not a cakes only of flours. Am... carnivore. Can have a flavors of plants, but like... " Etsy pauses, rubbing the side of her face with a hand. "Am a carnivores," she finally finishes sort of lamely. "She can eat anything that's an animal product, and it's possible to use flavorings or small portions of plants without upsetting her stomach; she can't drink beer or wine, but she can have mead, she can have seasonings and chocolate -- most chocolate, anyway -- but if there's a significant amount of plant matter in the food, it will make her sick," the mrbl ticks off on its little otter hands. It's used to Esther's food restrictions, after all. When the sausage is produced, its antennae -- floofy blue things off its eyebrows -- practically vibrate. "She can eat cheese," it offers, in a hopeful, wistful voice. Fact: Etsy is so food-oriented that this tactic? It pretty much perfectly works. She skitters forward when the cheese and sausages are mentioned, her sea-change green eyes lighting up. "Yes a cheese and a sausage!" she trills happily. "And a little for a mrbls," she promises. "I'll need to keep thiis in mind," says the ogre to the sire and the otter as she sits down on the ground, unwraps the sausage and cheese the rest of the way, and spreads the small cloth they were wrapped in on the ground like a miniature picnic blanket. She's big enough that all picnic blankets are probably miniature for her. "You're welcome to both," she says as she rummages in her bag again. She pulls out some strips dried something that doesn't smell like it's any Earthly animal, but does smell like it makes delicious jerky, and puts those on the cloth too. "The marrow cake has some flour and sugar in it, but it's mostly marrow. I'm not sure if it would be safe for you or not. I'll make you some that I'm more certain of another time, though." She looks at the mrbl and says, "you can have any of this you want. I can always make more!" She's like a kid in a candy shop, only she owns the shop and wants everyone else to eat her candy. It is a perfect little scene, let's be honest: the one way to be sure that Etsy will at least give someone a shot is to offer her food, and the Ogre is offering her essentially 'all the food forever made with care for what she can eat.' It's one way to be certain that Etsy will confront her fear of the Thing that was used to threaten her during her Durance. She flutters over, feet light on the ground, followed by her otter, to settle in and devour the food, feeding it all into her piranha-toothed maw. Regina isn't likely to get much conversation out of her during this process, but the sheer delight on the mermaid's face? That's something, indeed.