Upstairs at Cat-22 is an area reserved for Lost and affiliated only. The word is out in the community about that, so Glitch and Nathania should know it's a safe place to be. C.B. has been trying to speak to the pair for weeks now, ever since That Incident, and this space seems like an ideal meeting place. And so he is here, sitting on the daybed, drinking bourbon from a Cat-22 mug while Jimi Hendrix plays over the stereo up here. He has his oval, silver wire-rimmed glasses on and is reading a battered copy of 'The Nonexistant Knight' by Italo Cavino, his skinny legs sprawled out across the coffee table and crossed at the ankles.
Nathania and Glitch walk up the stairs, Nat in the lead. The rag doll is in a pair of jeans and a maroon tee shirt, her long yarny hair pulled into a ponytail. She looks around and spots CB, gives an upnod, and waits for Glitch to catch up before saying: "Sorry.... for the delay in... coming to see... you. I wanted to thank you... for scaring off... the Loyalists. I seriously owe.... you one."
Glitch follows up behind Nathania in his usual nondescript outfit, a dark hoodie, jeans, sneakers. Hands in his pockets, his digitized eyes scan around behind them, making sure they aren't followed or anything, before he returns up behind Nathania and lifts one hand to rest it on her shoulder, nodding as he does so. "Me too."
C.B. is wearing a pretty standard outfit himself: blue and white plaid shirt, a white t-shirt peeking out underneath the top few undone buttons, worn Levis and construction boots. He smells quite strongly of cigarette smoke, even if he's not smoking up here. The book is placed upside down on the table as he takes his glasses off, resting them on top of the book and running his hands through his unruly hair. "So you're both still alright," he says, brow furrows as he looks them over in turn. He doesn't stand, but his relatively relaxed posture changes as he leans on his knees and intertwined his fingers. Then he says to Nathania, "Well, don't thank me, thank the vision I had. Wouldn't've been there without it."
Who's that girl over in the corner, leaning on the back of some overstuffed chair and reading a book? It's Frank! She's dressed conservatively - which for her means a pale blue men's work-shirt left mostly unbuttoned and tucked into high waisted dark indigo jeans that are raw at the cuff to be anything less than $300. Raw canvas espadrilles give her a slight elevation, and an abundance of charm bracelets and bangles jingle-jangle together as she adjusts the book in her hands, lifting it to squint at the page. 'Quiet Rumours: An Anarcha-Feminist Reader', sounds riveting.
When Glitch and Nathania pop up into the room, Franklyn doesn't even look up at first - she merely licks her finger, and flips the page. Looks like somebody is in 'the zone'. It's not until Nathania starts speaking in that halted way that Franky's eyes pivot, glancing over to her and Glitch and just... Staring over the edge of that book, expression hidden.
Nathania looks at Frank and freezes. She knows the place is for Lost and associates and all, but she still--she's uncomfortable, staring at the girl in the corner. "Uh, hi?" she says hesitantly. She leans into Glitch, nervous.
Glitch looks to CB. "You had the vision. And you showed up and chased them off. Don't be stupid," he mutters. Wizened to a fault. He tucks up closer behind Nathania, and looms protectively around her as best as he can, not being very tall. Still, his gaze settles unamusedly on Franklyn, as if waiting for her to try something, hand squeezing Nathania's shoulder.
C.B. gestures with one inkstained finger for Frank to come a bit closer and join them. "Do you guys all know each other? Franklyn, this is Nathania and Glitch. Nathania and Glitch, Franky is...involved in this whole thing, too, so I hope it's okay if she's here. She can, uh. You know." He makes wide gestures around his eyes. "See us for what we are, so. Don't worry about all that." Then he snorts at Glitch and nods. "Yeah, well. True enough. Incidentally, apart from being a Harbinger, I don't know /why/ I had that vision. Why me and not...someone else."
Franklyn raises an eyebrow as she caches Nathania looking at her like that -- her green eyes quickly glancing over the living doll's form, a flash of concern or scepticism or just miscellaneous mean Mortal girl realness shadowing her expression for a moment. Is she as nervous as Nat is? Possibly. She gives a little up-nod of acknowledgement though, then lifts her book a little higher: hiding behind it as she returns to reading.
Only... Franky's still peeking over the top every few seconds or so.
When Glitch speaks to C.B., Franklyn stops trying to pretend like she's reading, and she lowers the book -- outrightly frowning at him. Was it something he muttered? Yes. The unamused look is returned, although Franky's expression is more neutral than disapproving. As C.B. speaks and explains some things, Franklyn just... Stares at the Wyrd trio. Right. So she's a quiet one, or something. Sheesh.
Nathania nods, relaxing visibly. "Okay. Nice... to meet you, Franklyn. If it's easier, you both... can call me Nat or Nattie." She nods, then, and grins crookedly at C.B. "Why do you ask... questions no one can answer? I know. It's your... nature. But still. This one's a mystery." Then she glances back at Franklyn. "I'm not... going to eat you." Joke falls flat.
Glitch has no smiles for Franklyn. She's free, however, to gawk at his bizarre appearance, as little bits of numbers and letters scramble across the edges of his face every now and then. Moving to sit down somewhere, he eyes CB. "I need all the info," he murmurs. "Exactly how it went down, everything they said, and anything you've found out since then."
C.B. blinks at this quiet version of Franklyn which is...highly unusual. His face scrunches up for a moment as he stares at her, but then he shrugs. Whatever. He's not going to make her talk. She'll talk when she wants to talk! That's his philosophy. Then he looks back to Nat as he drinks from his cup, letting out an amused snort at that astute observation of hers. "I have to ask those questions, Nat. If I don't ask them, who will?" Then he shifts his posture so he can look seriously at Glitch. "And you'll get it, though I hope you'll give me some in return." He describes the vision, first: seeing Nathania and Glitch fall over the Crystal Falls, and then he moves onto describe as much of what he saw of the confrontation between Nat and the Loyalists as he can remember. Which, given his usually terribly memory, is a pretty decent account.
"Mmm." Franklyn upnods to Nathania again at the pleasantries -- what is she, some kind of selective mute? The Mortal girl watches them all with a carefully blank look, although at Nathania's joke she does... Almost smile. The sides of her lips twitch, at least -- then her eyes are pivoting over to Glitch. Gawking? More like scrutinising; her eyes narrowed a smidgen. Does she need glasses? That squint suggests maybe she needs glasses - or an attitude adjustment. Be polite, Franky! At least she has the courtesy not to interrupt; neither Glitch's request, or the decent account by C.B., newp. This is obviously Wyrd business - let them get Lost in it, she'll just be seen and not heard, like a good Mortal associate.
Nathania moves to sit next to Glitch, leaning into him. She watches C.B. and grins a little. "That's true. But do all... questions need to be asked?" she posits toward him. She keeps glancing at Franklyn, nodding to the girl at the soft noise she makes. Then just... watching the group.
Glitch listens to the entire account. He's heard Nathania's account as well. "We need to find the little brother," he murmurs. "Not that many arcades he could be at. It's a trap, of course, so we gather data first, then hit it hard, oneshot anyone stupid enough to be there. Me, Teagan, 4P at least." He looks up, to Nathania first, then to CB. "We know anything about the other two? She's doing it for a price, not for loyalty. They might just be idiot scrubs being paid off or threatened too."
Who else here loves a good squint? C.B. Alexander, that's who. He turns his own squint from Franky briefly back to Nathania and smirks. "The answer to that is: yep. They all need to be asked. Lest anything get left out." And then, back to Glitch once more. "I couldn't find shit about them, which is frustrating as hell. That was part of the reason I'd hoped to meet with you two. Which reminds me -- tell me more about this Keeper of yours." He points to Glitch in a way that could be construed as accusatory, or it's just C.B.'s blunt way of talking about things. "Apart from having Loyalists who want to kidnap your wife, what /else/ does he do? What is he called, and why does he do it? Why is he after you? I'd like to think I have a right to know, because I'm planning on helping you. Probably whether you want to or not." Brow furrowed, C.B. leans back and drinks from his mug.
Franklyn's lips twitch into a near-smirk as Nathania speaks to C.B. - those expressive eyes widening with a drop or two of amusement, glancing to the Author for a second: what, they in on some joke? Whatever the reason, she says nothing. Is she put off by the Wyrd appearence of Glitch and Nathania? Possibly. Maybe that's why she's so quiet.
That, or she hasn't a very good grasp on what's going on -- or she /does/, but Franklyn is staying quiet; because as Glitch starts talking through that plan, that smirk is wiped right off her face and she returns to careful neutrality with a side order of RBF. When C.B. pipes up, and starts talking about Keepers and kidnapping and all that kooky stuff? Franky's whole expression just ices over: cold and blank. She scared, or just super bitchy? Hard to tell, hard to tell...
Nathania raises an eyebrow at her husband and shakes her head, before looking, startled, at C.B. "Why?" she asks. "Why are... you helping us? I mean, it's me, too; and I thought... you didn't care... for me." She glances to Franklyn. "You okay... over there, Franklyn? You.. seem off to me, somehow." The Blackbird Bishop furrows her stitched brows.
Glitch is about to launch into an explanation, but Nathania's words give him pause. He didn't know CB had a reason to dislike Nathania. His gaze settles on the electrified Lost, silently waiting for further information.
C.B.'s brow furrows even more, and that squint gets more intense, too. Speaking of electricity, a few white sparks shoot out his fingers. "Nat, why do you think I don't care for you? Who told you that, Green or someone?" He snorts, as if the very name of Amanda Green is enough to make him doubt, well. Just about anything. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't like most people." But that last is delivered with a slight smirk, showing that it's probably quite tongue-in-cheek. He steals a glance at Glitch before looking at the ragdolly again.
Franklyn's whole ice princess schtick continues as Nathania inquires after her -- she merely nods her head once, and... Oh, maybe it's cracking a bit; those eyes squint, and the Mortal girl fidgets where she's perched on the back of that comfy chair. Antsy, like she was holding something back. She looks to Glitch, as if she expects him to be answering some of C.B's questions, but when the bizarrely pixilated Lost says nothing, Franky just starts to frown more.
One second, two seconds... C.B. is talking, but the subject seems to have deviated away from Keepers and in towards personal issues and--
"What is this, relationship counselling? Should I break out some sock puppets so we can all point out where our feelings got hurt?" Franklyn blinks, then clears her throat - glancing over to Nattie quickly, "No offence." The book is set aside, and she raises her hands - palms exposed. Look ma, no weaponry! "But... But you just got asked what feel like, pretty pertinent questions? And instead? You're focusing on, like, minutiae? Or not talking?"
Franky turns and -stares- at Glitch. Woah there. Who invited the spirited Mortal up here again? Was it for the Glamour? "So yeah, yeah, yeah - if I seem off? Maybe it's because this feels like a two-bit pantomime. Get to the -action-, man, we wanna hear the =story=. Spill it! Why, what who, where, when, and /how/ is this all =happening=?"
Nathania shrugs, awkwardly. "Just... reading you wrong, I guess," she mutters at C.B., blushing. "I don't really... hang out with... Green anymore." She shrugs a single shoulder, awkward and embarrassed. And then Franky's spilling her words and Nat? Shrinks into herself, embarrassed beyond measure, patchwork face various shades of bright red.
Glitch sits there and just stares at Franky during the entire outburst. He looks to Nathania, shrinking against him, and then looks to CB, and then he pushes to his feet, hands in his pocket, staring Franky right in the eye. "If I'm," he says, voice low, a bit of distortion creeping into it, "Not *entertaining* you enough with my life, you can get the fuck out," he says, pointing a pixellated finger towards the door. "Or you can shut the fuck up, and never, EVER, talk to my wife like that again."
C.B. looks at Franky. To him, this is pretty normal Franky behavior, so he doesn't seem all that much surprised by the things she says. He even nods once or twice at the things she says near the end there. His gaze moves over to Nathania next. "Trust me when I say that not hanging out with Green is for the best," he snorts. "And Franky is invested in this, too, which is why..." His words begin to fade when Glitch gets all distorted and aggressive on them. He lets out a huge sigh and buries his head in his hands, white sparks crackling out from him all over the place now. "Glitch?" C.B. raises his head again, looking...well. Tired, really. "How about not talking to /Franky/ that way, either? Let's all settle the hell down and relax, okay?" There's a bit of a warning look to Frank. Did the world end? C.B. Alexander is being the calm and reasonable one here? Well...it does happen on occasion. "Everyone's tense and on edge because this isn't just about /your/ life anymore, Glitch. It's about all of our lives, including Franky's. So why don't you talk to us, tell us the details? Please? Jesus, I'm fucking begging you here." His eyes go all wide and he swallows down the last in his mug.
Franky blinks at Nathania as the patchwork woman gets all embarrassed - that? She did not expect. Palms still exposed, Franklyn's eyebrows raise, "Hey, look, there's a time and a place for feelings but sometimes /fact/ is--..."
Then Glitch is speaking. Cue more blinking - only this time? Franklyn does not look sympathetic, like she did with Nat. Franklyn looks incredulous -- a layer of figurative frost icing out her features as she turns and stares at him. "...You must feel like a really big man, what the the responsibility of talking /for/ Nathania - excuse me, 'your wife' and all. Is that why you're not keen to answer the real questions here, about the issue at hand? Or are you stalling? Are you scared of getting a little, huh, real?"
The Mortal girl looks like she has a whole bunch of probably not-so-wise things to start ranting about, but Franky catches C.B's warning look and... There's the tiniest of nods, and she turns to pick up her book again. 'Quiet Rumours' is opened, and Franklyn half-assedly attempts to look like she's reading. Oh. She isn't tho'. She's /listening/ - and quite possibly fuming, behind that frosty frown.
Nathania tugs on her husband's sleeve. "Sit, sit, it's... okay, I'm okay," she mutters, still bright, bright red, but not wanting any more trouble. "Just... talk to C.B. and let's... get information... spread." She waits for him to sit--because he has to, eventually--and nods.
Glitch is cajoled by the entire room as he stands there looming. His expression softens, but doesn't lighten...relaxing slightly. Mollified, perhaps. He looks to Nathania and sits down, before turning his gaze to CB, a silence following as he collects his thoughts. "There's an old cartoon," he murmurs, voice calmer now, "from the 80s. 'Captain N, the Game Master.'. A Nintendo-playing kid is so good at videogames, one day, he's pulled through the TV screen, into the games themselves, to be part of them." He looks to CB for signs of regonition. "It's not a unique idea," he murmurs. "Not an original story. And things were different in the Gameworld. The Game Master almost never appeared, he was just there as a booming voice, as big block letters hovering in the dark. As commands."
Thing is, C.B. can't entirely disagree with Franklyn. There's a reason these two are tight; sometimes, they are like peas in a pod. But it's Glitch who gets most of C.B.'s attention, even as he gives Nat a thankful little nod for trying to calm Glitch down. Even if Glitch is still standing. As far as C.B. goes...there's not even the slightest bit of recognition. Glitch may as well be speaking Mandarin; that's how lost C.B. looks. Nintendo? Is that even a word? But okay, as C.B. gets the pieces of info, he presses his fingertips into his lips and nods. "Okay. Okay. And why is he after you? /What/ is he after? It's not just you and Nath. Is he into...is he into all /kinds/ of games, not just video-whatsits?"
Franklyn gives Nathania a little -nod-, and it's the strangest thing? But there's a whole bunch of sympathy under that dusting of icy reserve. When glances a few times to Glitch? Nothing. Nothing but RBF and scepticism and possible disapproval -- but Nat? For whatever reason there's a softer touch there. Maybe Franky cares about...
..something. Hard to tell. She's closing that expression, bringing it back to ice town.
The book in her hand -- 'Quiet Rumours: An Anarcha-Feminist Reader' for those who may just be joining them -- is lowered a bit, as Franky adjusts her perch on the back of the comfy chair, listening to Glitch with that blank stare. A few times she looks to C.B., reading his lack of recognition to everything video-games -- and it's the darnedest thing? Franky doesn't quite look like she can follow Glitch either. It's not that she's too old, or even too Mortal: the problem is she's too young.
Bloody Millennials.
"...I have a feeling." Franklyn starts to wave a hand in the air - glittery manicure glinting before she puts her fingers to her temples, then points at Glitch. She doesn't look at him when she speaks, though. "...That he returned, not too long ago, after someone--" Nat is pointed to, "--thought he'd been gone. Where did you think he was, Natty?" The Mortal girl stares at the Ragdolly, head tilted. "How did you find each other again?"
Nathania jumps, too, at sudden Teagan. "Hello," she says, startled, to them, her button eyes wide. Then she looks to Franky. "Well, I thought... he was... reTaken, of course. No one disappears... around Us without... being Taken, or dying." She pauses a moment. "At least, not without... leaving traces." The Winter looks a little smug. "I have Resources... at my disposal, after all."
Glitch sits, and takes a moment to react to Teagan's appearance...but there's more to tell. He looks to Franky and Nat first, motionless in his seat beyond the turn of his head. "I was on the run for about a year. The Game Master knew where I was. It wasn't even Loyalists coming after me, it was...things," he murmurs, looking down. "Monsters. Broken ones. They followed me here," he says, not sounding too proud about it. His gaze turns to CB. "The Game Master is after me because I broke the Game."
C.B. will never get used to /anyone/ appearing like that, /ever/, so he actually startles when Teagan appears. Then nods to them. "Good timing." He must not be the one who invited them. His blue-silver gaze rests on Franklyn for a few, then Nat. "What kind of Resources?" There's a bottle of Wild Turkey sitting there, and he refills his mug with it. "You broke the Game," C.B. repeats, and a little shudder seems to move through him. He actually looks away from Glitch for a moment and just flat-out drains his cup...then goes to refill it again. "They followed you here. Putting everyone in danger." Grim smile at that. "Well, that's for those Fate's Harvest assholes to sort out, I guess. Uh, no offense" That's to Nat, since he doesn't know if Glitch is in the freehold. "Okay. What about dreams? Can you think of reasons he might have to haunt people's dreams? Specifically mortal people?"
"Hey," asserts Teagan, as though it is totally normal for people to just appear out of being invisible with a beer in their hand. Once said beer is opened, they set it aside for a minute to dig in their pockets and light up a cigarette. "You busted up his fucking Realm?" the Mirrorskin clarifies, digging for their battered black plastic lighter. A trill from their pocket has them digging out their phone, unlocking it, and then smiling lopsidedly and even kinda affectionately at the screen. Phone's locked again and tucked back into the pocket of their ratty trenchcoat, and they continue with the process of lighting up that cigarette.
Smoke billows out through their nose after the first drag, and they shrug. "Fate's bitches get good timing, Ceebs," they answer the Wizened, and then clicks their tongue against the roof of their mouth. "Might as well ask a nun the color of her underpants as ask Winter the resources they have to find shit out. You're just supposed to take it as read, 'cause they ain't gonna fuckin' tell you." Beat. "You must be Nathania. Your reputation precedes you." That is apparently a good thing, maybe? Tough to tell, the Summer's face has slid all the way back to 'subtly shifting neutral,' as if watching light play over the silvering on the back of an antique mirror. "Teagan." And then they flick one hand, adding, "Apologies, yeah, so, is he dream-oriented? I couldn't get any definitive signs as to whether or not the two things are connected. I fuckin' looked."
"...I see." Franklyn squeaks at Nathania - then perhaps noticing the uncomfortable tone in her own voice, she clears her throat and tries again. "I see; of course... These resources, they got you in contact with... Your husband?" Manicure glints again, as Franky swoops her hand in Glitch's direction and wiggles her fingers - eyes on Nat as she listens to Glitch speak.
There's a complicated little frown that creeps across her face, and she chatters on to the Ragdolly, her voice quiet and soft and just a little pleading. "And let him know, where to find you again? So you could be reunited?"
Look at that =face=! Listen to that /voice/! Franky sounds for the world of her like she just wants to -know- how this story has been unfolding. Desperately, even. Such an expressive Mortal, it's rather striking. Just check out all the /angst/ that creeps up in her countenance when C.B. starts mentioning dreams! Eyes lowered, Franky's lashes flutter as she glances around the floor; hand digging into her pocket to pull out a pack of Lucky's and tap out a cigarette, placing it to her lips with a shaky hand.
Lighter, lighter... Hands pat down her trousers. Franky's bound to have a lighter somewhere. If only her hands would stop trembling... Yet? When Teagan speaks about the inconclusive signs re: the dream connection? She snorts. Outright. Incredulous and, yeah that's right, snide. What a cheeky little Mortal! She's actually rolled her eyes! The brat.
Nathania tilts her head at CB. "Winter ones." She looks confused by the question. Her Mantle is strong, and she's obviously Winter; how can he not know? Oh, right, Courtless. "I can't... and shouldn't... talk about it? But if you need.. to track someone down, let me know, and we... can figure it out. Maybe." A serene smile. Then she nods to Teagan, and blushes a little. "Hi! It's... nice to finally... meet you." And then she falls silent for a moment before Franklyn speaks. She turns to the woman, and says, gently, "We can talk... later if... you'd like. We'll... figure something out." The Bishop nods at the younger Mortal woman, eyes full of concern.
When Franklyn snorts at Teagan, the Mirrorskin only smiles blandly back at her, as if there's something they know that she doesn't. That cat's got a canary in their mouth, they do. Their gaze slides its fractured-mirror focus back toward Nathania. "Legit. You too." They shift in their seat absently, adjusting the machete that's attached literally to their hip these days with a new ring holster (this one is very new, it actually looks shiny, which Squire possessions rarely do, so it must be very new, compared to the rusty, old, bleeding machete), and swaps out their cigarette a moment later for a vape pen. It's also brand new, a lovely forest green. Squires with shiny objects, the world is ending. Only not. A click, a hiss: vapor. It smells vaguely of honey and strawberries. Teagan's attention focuses back on Glitch, listening.
Glitch listens around, realizing the entire story is in order. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes in recollection. "Only videogames. The Game isn't for any computer or system, though, it's..." he shakes his head, one of those ineffable things crossing his mind. He turns to CB and looks him in the eye, knowing the other doesn't understand videogames. "A game is a set of instructions. Rules. Data. Which way a chess piece can move. What actions a Player can take." He pauses. "Most video games are a text of memorization, reaction, and skill," he beeps out. "Obstacle courses. Run, jump, shoot. Avoid dangers. Collect valuable items. Kill enemies." This is all drawled out in his flat little digital monotone of a voice, the hiss of static at the edges of it every time he speaks. "When you die, you just start over again. And maybe the next time, you know to avoid what got you. To go left instead of right, or to kill first. You play, and you improve. There's no way out of it. He pauses. "Not the way it's designed. If the rules of the Game say it never ends...you have to break the rules. The Game, and everything in it, are made of the rules." His face flickers for a moment, scrawls of corrupted little pictures flitting through the pixels on his chin and cheek. "I don't remember how people were brought into the Game. All I know is that there's a lot of similarities."
Franky blinks - turning to look at Nathania as she's spoken to again. Wariness plays on her expression at first, then slowly the Mortal girl starts to nod. "...You know, if you have anything you think I need to hear, it's okay; you can tell me in front of everyone, I won't stop you... Unless it's something," Franky's volume drops, sotto-voice; practically silent as she mouths; You don't want them to know?
Then she's glancing around the room - not at anybody, but the room itself as Teagan stares at her and Glitch goes about telling his story. The search for her lighter is given up, and Franky's cigarette just hangs from her lips - fingers raising, glittery manicure glinting as she presses her fingertips to her temples and scrunches her eyes closed. Migraine, Franklyn?
It's only when C.B. hands her the matches that Franky moves again, accepting them with a nod. One is struck, admired for a moment, then used to light her cigarette. At no point does she attempt to set alight anything else, she merely shakes the match until it's dead and then...
...it's a coincidence that the spent match is tossed in Glitch's direction, right? She's not even looking at him!
"/Right/." Franklyn sighs through a sigh of smoke, sitting up a little straighter on the back of her comfy-chair perch. Everyone, -everyone-, is started at in turn, before the Mortal girl gets a look of Determination on her face: eyes squinted, shoulders held back, chin lifted. "So what's /next/, then? Mr. Glitch and his wife cannot share the resources which were used to identify his whereabouts, yet we acknowledge that his appearance in town brought the... Goons of... Game Master? On your doorstep. Apparently they are, uh, menacing people." Franky blinks - she seems shocked about the words coming out of her mouth, but still she chatters; "Nobody has any concrete evidence of their nefarious plans, possible motives, next steps, or connection to dreams which they are able to, uh, tell anyone, right now. So... So..."
Blink. Blink. Franklyn's nose wrinkles with open distain. "What the fuck is going on? Seriously? What exactly is the =plan= here?"
Nathania squeezes her husband's hand gently, knowing how hard this story is for him to recount. She doesn't look at him, though, cuddled into his side as she is. Instead, she watches Teagan with some interest, especially in their shiny posessions. Hey, she's a Bishop. She's part Blackbird, right? That's totally a thing. But she watches them lazily, not at all meanly or covetously, before looking to C.B. "Okay," she says with a shrug. "I just... didn't know if you understood... what that meant." She shrugs again, not meaning offense. "Some Courtless... don't know. They don't -care- to know." And then she looks to Franklyn. "I meant about.. finding someone." She looks confused. And then frustrated. "Look, if I could... I would, okay? But I can't."
"The plan is, the Summer who specializes in stalking predators is going to put together a team to do just that. I ain't need a freehold to get shit done. I have a few people in mind, but some of them, naming no names, gotta answer their texts." Teagan sniffs, takes. another pull off their vape. CB gets a brief confused look, and then they add, "This is literally my job."
Glitch turns his attention to the others, stopping his story to listen. When the match is flicked towards him, his hand darts up quickly...just a second too late to intercept it, the little stick bouncing off his chest. He fixes Franklyn with a far less blank stare than before, his eyebrows beginning to furrow into clear anger. He pushes his seat back and slowly shifts to his feet, then with some effort drags his stare away from Franky over to Teagan and CB. "They mentioned a kid," he mutters. "The girl's brother. At an arcade. They'll still have him, as bait." There's a pause, before his hands stuff down into his pockets. "That's where we go first. We find the arcade, we map out the place, and we fucking roll it," he says, that anger creeping back into his normally cold voice. "One shot. Me. Teagan. 4P or more if we can get it. Wipe them out hard enough to let the rest know they fucked up."
C.B. rubs his temples like he, too, is beginning to get a migraine. "I understand plenty," he tells Nathania, "I just choose not to participate. We -- " He stops talking abruptly, glances from Teagan to Glitch with a furrowed brow. "I thought I was going in on this mission, too," he says, then shrugs. They don't want him, they don't want him. Why argue? "But we still don't know if all of this is connected to the dreams? It sounds like it.../might/ be, but we're not entirely sure?" He glances over to Franky almost...apologetically? But then he's looking at all of them. "For those of you playing along at home, there is a Gentry stalking the dreams of many of the mortals in town. Tainting them...and I had reason to believe that it might have been your Game Master, since he's the only active Gentry we know for sure is around."
Franklyn? Oblivious to any anger directed her way -- she's just some Mortal girl smoking a cigarette, looking all irked and worried and trying her best to figure out what's going on. Her foot taps against the chair, and then quite suddenly? With a snap of her fingers? Frank is standing -up-! Book? Abandoned; she's stalking the few steps she needs to get up in C.B's business -- murmuring something to him, before she pushes a hand back through her hair and starts to pinball around the room; tossing her cigarette in the kitchenette sink, swooping down to fetch that oversized baggage of hers.
"...Well you guys seem like you have everything under control." Franky deadpans, hauling her bag up over her arm, one hand on her hip as she stares at the Ragdolly, Graphics Card Error, and Ambiguous Shadow of Malcontent. For a second she just stands there -- a wave of... Is that aguish? Pessimism? Fury? Desperation? that waves off of her? Yes. All of it. Like a localised emotional maelstrom, circling Franklyn.
What does she do? She takes her cue, and starts to move again: frowning as she glides off, head down, lost in her own thoughts. Exit Franklyn, stage left.
You whisper “...I have to get out of here. These people are absurd. If you want me? Find me looking for some assurance at the bottom of bottle, because I feel like fucking downing myself. I'm sorry, Ben, I just... Can't... I just can't.” to CB.
Nathania blinks and stares after Franklyn. "Uh...?" she says. "What... did I do wrong?" She looks to C.B.
"Glitch, are you running this, or am I?" Teagan looks vaguely irritated, glances aside at CB, shrugs.
Glitch frowns at CB and shakes his head. "You too. Everyone. Overwhelming Force." Then Teagan cuts in and he shuts up, looking a little embarassed, a hand clenching at his side. When Franky runs out he turns towards Nathania and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Ignore her," he just beeps, before looking back to Teagan and CB. "I don't know anything about the dreams. Ideas about them, maybe, but...I'm sorry," he murmurs.
C.B. glances up at Franky when she whispers to him; he looks slightly alarmed, and then he stands up as well, gathering his messenger bag. "You didn't do anything wrong, Nat. But I should see Franky home." He stares at the other three from his nickname-less vantage point. "Let's meet again soon. I'm a part of this, whether I want to be or not, and so I'm gonna help." Though he looks deeply disappointed and pensive about something. His cigarette is quickly snuffed out, since having them up here is bad enough. Having them downstairs would be worse.
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