Log:Reasurance and Rest

Reasurance and Rest
...I was Sleepwalking?
Participants Franklyn & Isolde	8 October, 2017 What's family for, if not showing up unannounced to spill complicated feelings everywhere and search for some reassurance? When Franklyn finds herself in times of trouble, Isolde let's her in and speaks some words of wisdom, like : "How about you catch a few hours of sleep..?"
Location Rose Court Tenements
So it's a grey Sunday afternoon - rain has already fallen, making the warm Autumn day just a touch humid. Still. These kind of days can be nice, when all a person needs to do is curl up with a book or watch a movie or stay indoors drinking tea and having a think and--       knock-knock --and getting whatever it is that they're up to interrupted, by a knock on the door. Because Franklyn has not called ahead, even if when the door opens there she is: looking all boho-chic in a long white maxi dress of of gauzy linen and crochet, with a pair of platform clogs on her feet and a flouncy silky flowery shawl-kimono-shrug thing in black-and-red-and-green with a whooole bunch of tassels. Looks like she's been rained on at some point, and dried off only a little. Man. Franklyn looks =tired=. Also? A little wired. She's not looking at the door, she's peering down the hallway like she was worried she'd been followed or something -- bracelets jingling, as she attempts to pull a loose strand of hair from her mouth, that oversized black purse swinging on her arm. So here's Franklyn and all her baggage, coming a'calling for Isolde. It is miraculous that Isolde is home. But she is! There’s the sound of shuffling, “Just a second.” the voice, even through the door is harmonious. The door is unlocked and the Bright One peeks around the door until she sees who it is. Once she sees it’s Franky there’s a look of concern that washes over her face, “Hello, Franklyn dear. Come on in. You look like you’ve been rained on. Come in.” she motions her in as she opens the door fully. She doesn’t seem to mind that there was no call ahead. The Doctor is dressed in black medical scrubs and her badges are still clipped to her pocket so she’s probably recently arrived home. "You look great." Really? That's what Franklyn leads with as a greeting? Well, she isn't lying -- she's just wrapping her arms around her chest, cradling her elbows as she slinks into Isolde's house. Immediately the Mortal's green eyes start scanning the place: taking in the decor, sure, but also checking the windows and exits and if anybody else happens to be around and... Yeah. Franky's a little sensitive. Doesn't mean she can't be polite, though. Once inside and sure there's no Immediate Threats, Franklyn turns and looks at Isolde - giving her a bright, albeit weary, smile. She looks like... She has not been sleeping very well at all. "How are you? Thank you for inviting me in, I appreciate it - hope I'm not imposing, I'm sure you're super busy and..." Franklyn fades out, hesitates, then hunches her shoulders a little bit. "We haven't had a chance to talk since the dinner." A beat. "We had a lovely time, by the way - Lala and me and Be- C.B..." Another pause. "...The two of you, had a little chat together, didn't you?" Fidget, squirm. Franky is uncomfortable, and for once? At a loss for any more words. Isolde shuts the door behind Franklyn and there’s a smile to her, “Thank you, Franklyn.” she tells her. She lets her check windows and exits and things of that nature. Nothing is lurking. Isolde was the only soul for the moment. While she does look around, Isolde reaches out to pick up the cashmere throw she has on the back of the lounge and she walks over to place it gentle over Franklyn’s shoulders gently. Then she steps away and has a seat, “You’re welcome, you can have a seat and get comfortable, if you’d like something warm to drink I can make you something.” she offers. Then she nods, “Yes, you were acting a bit peculiar and I wasn’t sure what was wrong so I wanted to make sure you were alright.” she tells her. “And I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me. So where would you like to start?” Isolde offers as she kicks off her shoes and brings her legs up onto the couch to tuck underneath her. "...You are so =caring=." Franklyn blinks at Isolde as the cashmere throw is placed over her shoulders -- moving slowly, so she can go and sit down in a chair with is near - but not /too/ near - to Isolde's own. Bag? Placed by her feet. Posture? A little bit stiff as she perches on the edge of the seat. "It feels to me like a lot of folk who've gotten Lost end up losing that, you know? Compassion? Maybe I'm just being unfair - I don't know /everyone/, and like how =can= we know everyone anyway? Just because someone isn't caring to =me= doesn't mean... Wait. No. I just mean..." Franklyn swallows, and tries to focus up, offering a wan smile. "Sometimes people - folk - they seem so... Alien." Franklyn hesitates, compressing her lips together as if she were afraid she made some kind of faux pas. Fingers start to tap on her knees, and she glances to the side nervously before looking back at Isolde. "...I have a lot of questions, so many that if I started, I would never stop until my voice gave out. I think... Before I go on, what did C.B. tell you was going on?" “There’s a lot of us that come out of Arcadia and just don’t care about others. There’s more of us that come out of Arcadia and stop caring about our mortal counterparts and it's frustrating. I don’t want anyone to go through what I did.” Isolde explains to Franklyn. “So you’re not entirely wrong.” she tells her honestly. “And there’s some reason for some of us seeming so Alien as you put it, but I’ll explain that a bit in a moment.” she states. Then she’s listening to her again and she nods to that, “He told me you were having some really bad dreams. We’ve had it happening with some of the mortals in our group. We’re working on finding out more. The Monarch sent out a missive to see if we could get people to work together as well before we end up losing anyone.” she admits. “And I don’t think Gigi hates him. We don’t really have a family rivalry with the Alexander. They just like to be bad boys.” Isolde chuckles. “I like him well enough. I’ve also had to pull his ass out of something in the Hedge before.” she muses. Franklyn starts to slowly nod her head as Isolde explains the impact of Arcadia - from the looks of things, that's not entirely alien to her, so... Perhaps she's had some schooling. Someone must've schooled her. Who's her sponsor? Not a Freeholder... Don't they have to tell people who they drag into things like this? Franky sniffs in and pushes some hair behind her ear, chewing on her lip as she tries to keep up. "How many people? What does it mean? Is the risk very high?..." Franky winces at that last question, like it was something she regrets asking -- or presumes is mighty high indeed. Swallowing hard, she smooths her skirt out over her knees and continues. "...They told me it's a Keeper called, uhm, the Game Master? Which is such a =stupid= name. I met a fellow who was Kept by It. He's..." Hesitation, then a squint. "...Intolerable." Oh man. Franky is being =so= polite as well. Subject change! "...C.B’s not a total Alexander, or, well, that's his story to tell -- his badness comes from good intentions." A beat. "He /is/ fucking reckless though - excuse the language - so I'm not surprised. His ass is always getting in to trouble. I bet he didn't even say thank you..." Another nervous smoothing of her dress, as Franklyn watches Isolde carefully, reading her expression. "There is this horrible person named Tegan who wants to -fight- It, but I can't see how that is at all smart? They are insane. They've pulled a machete on me at least once." FRANKY! She's going off subject, but hey, girl is a touch manic today. "Isolde... I was Sleepwalking?" “So far there’s three of four. Probably more that haven’t came forward. I’m hoping that we can get it all straightened out shortly.” Isolde tells Franklyn as she looks to her. “And once you get to some points in dream poisoning it’s not really safe to leave you by yourself. Or well, they shouldn’t work on you on their own. Sadly I did not specialize in oneiromancy. I heal the body.” she frowns deeply. There’s a look to her, “What was his name?” she asks him. “Just in case I run across him and I feel the need to punch him in the face.” she grins at that. “And yes, CB is reckless, I’ve seen that for myself. We have those all the time, but I’m not going to try to get him to cool his heels. It’s not my job.” she chuckles. Her eyebrow wings up when she talks about someone pulling a machete on her, “What the hell did they pull a machete on you for? Was it while you were sleepwalking?” she asks. "...I'm not sure if I follow -- what does 'leave you by yourself' mean, in this context?" Franklyn is trying to sound all composed and cool, and while those words -suggest- she's got her shit together, the way her knee bounces and her brow perspires suggests she is just about barely holding things together. Mouth moves in silent incomprehension: oneiromancy? Not a word she knows. "I am, uh, unaware of the details of your... Society?" Brief pause, and Franky glances to the side. "And really it is not my business. I'm sorry to have gotten, ah... I'm sorry I have to bother you about this." Yeah, because Franky is obviously to blame for her own Dream Poisoning. She doesn't know how these things work! Franklyn can turn back to Isolde and wrinkle her nose, though. "Glitch. His wife is named Nathania. He is... Not a very focused person. Very easily offended. Unhelpful. He was chatting with C.B. and myself, trying to clear something up, but he just wanted a fight really..." She pauses, then mmms and suddenly smiles. So bright! Really, Franklyn's emotions are a tempestuous maelstrom; always changing and intense - whether she can handle them, or not. "I pity whoever is hired to reign in C.B's behaviour and cool his heels - it is a Sisyphean task and a fool's errand." ...Isolde is Spring, correct? For all of Franky's vague attempt at a poker face... Damnit. Franklyn really likes that Alexander boy. Like, probably too much. Not that she's acknowledging it... "I can't remember, though." Subject change! Franky's hand lifts and she pushes her hair behind her ear repeatedly. "Teagan... I was sleeping, or sleepwalking? At the time, and it was only after I meditated and really -thought- about it, that parts of the, uh, dream? Came back. Not many. I think I asked them a question... Nobody knew I was sleepwalking, not for a long while. They had to slap me awake. I lost time." A beat. "I'm scared. I know I should be patient, people tell me things will get better soon, but... I am scared. It is scary." A pause. "Do you think they can kill It?" "Leave you by yourself when you sleep and things. If you sleepwalk and hurt someone or yourself then that can lead to serious things.” Isolde tells her with a frown. “I’m not trying to scare you, I know you probably are and it’s alright to be scared. It’s a lot to take in and it’s a whole new world to you, but it’s a big scary world as well.” she admits. “And oneiromancy has to do with dreams. There are people that specialize in healing peoples dreams.” she explains. “And the thing is, you’re part of our world now. I’m not sure how you became a part of things and I’m not going to ask, but please be careful.” she looks to her with a bit of a pleading look. “And you aren’t bothering me. Most of the family isn’t attached to the world of the Lost, so for one of you to be means that if you need something that you should feel free to come to me.” she tells her. “You are definitely not to blame for your dream poisoning, so none of that.” she shakes her head to that. When Glitches name is brought up there’s a smirk, “Mhm.” she purses her lips. “I know this Glitch. He was at an incident the other night and I had to keep him healed up. He got the fight he was looking for though.” she chuckles to that. “And I will definitely not be the one trying to reign that man in.” she points out with a laugh.” she tells her. Then they are back to Teagan and she listens to her. “Teagan shouldn’t be threatening people that are sleepwalking, but, maybe they didn’t know how to react, just, stay clear of them.” she tells her. Then she chooses her next words carefully. “I’m not going to lie to you, gentry aren’t really able to be killed. It’s a miraculous act if they are. So if they do. It’s a miracle. But, we can get you cured and get you out from under their influence." she states. "Oh." Franklyn blinks - BLINKS - at the explanation of Sleepwalking Safety 101. It has her squirming while she listens to the rest of Isolde's words -- nodding along to show she is following, even if there's a probability that her anxious mind if going through fearsome scenarios in the background. She doesn't interrupt though, making no attempt to get clarification or protest the Wyrd or start ranting and raving, no. Franky just -listens-. It's probably for the best, because towards the end? She smiles. It a smile of both gratitude and relief. "...Thank you, Isolde. I will be as careful as I can be. I... One day I will explain things? But not today." A beat. "Maybe after the next moon." Ominous. Is she trying to suggest a Pledge has Franky holding her tongue? Subtle, if that's the case. At mention of Glitch and his antics, Franky just wrinkles her nose with distain. It's obvious she dislikes him. "...The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause." Said so haughtily! Of course... How far would Franky go for her own cause? Well. She's not asking herself that now, is she. "...Teagan is weak, underneath all that bravado - proud, violent, and uncaring. I have no intention of spending any time in their company, beyond the inevitable crossing of our paths." A beat, then Franklyn starts to look worried again - her hands clasped together, rolling over one another like she was a particularly nervous raccoon. "...I suspect they will try and lure the Gentry into the regional, uh... Hedges? In order to fight it there for it's champion title." Yeah. Franky only -vaguely- understands what she's talking about. "If what you say is true? About the difficulty of killing one? Please... Be aware of the potential situation. I know must seem like such a fool, but my instinct says that... Bringing one of those so close would be... Ill advised." Isolde gives a nod to that, seeming to understand things, “If you are pledged not to speak on things, I understand that, Franklyn.” she tells her with a smile. “And pledges are a whole other ball of craziness that we’ll teach you about at another time.” she nods to this. Isolde gives a chuckle, “Thing of it is, I’m not sure what the cause is.” she admits. “Why would a Gentry chase one person all the way here?” she ponders aloud. It didn’t make sense to her. But oh well. “It’s something for me to find out more on really.” she tells her. Then she sits back a little and listens about Teagan. A bit of a nod to her when she describes how she acts, “Probably good to stay away from them then. Usually those types don’t care who they hurt or get hurt in the process, but, that just my experience with them. And if they pulled a weapon on you, probably good to just be safe.” she tells her. Then back to the Gentry and there’s a deep frown, “I would really, really hope that they don’t try to lure it anywhere close without talking to locals first, as that might be really, really crazy.” she shakes her head. Franklyn merely smiles at Isolde's words on Pledges; tilting her head and looking at her side-on -- no nodding, no acknowledgement, no words slipping from her lips. It is an ambiguous look, and it is -not- ambiguous all at the same time. What it is though is short lived -- Franky is smoothing her skirt out and shrugging her shoulders with a very, very weary sigh. "Glitch seems to think 'he broke the game', but whatever. Someone told me that like, the Gentry don't make sense? They just... Are. I suspect trying to like, apply logic to their whims is enough to make a person go really mad. Maybe the 'why' doesn't matter, so much as the 'what': what do we do next?" Franklyn hesitates, then draws the cashmere blanket a little closer. "Well... Not =we=. I'm not getting involved. I want nothing to do with that bullshit." Sudden blush. Why does it feel taboo to swear in front of Isolde? Franky doesn't know. She's attempting to look brave and somber though, nodding along in agreement re: the assessment of Teagan, and the craziness of luring in a Gentry. "...I suspect they get some kind of satisfaction or sense of esteem from being 'a wildcard'." Oh yeah. Isn't one of Franky's parents a psychologists or something? Her mother, maybe? Not that she still practices... Franklyn's parents are off in Asia somewhere, doing lord knows what. "I does not seem to me like they would ask anyone for permission to do anything. Please, do =not= let them know I told you what their plans were, as I do not want to wake up one night with a machete to my throat." A beat, then Franklyn's brow furrows with concern. "...If I were to wake up at all, which I doubt I would." Suddenly she looks a bit, er, more paranoid. Blanket is tugged around her shoulders. "They are batshit insane, Isolde. I don't know how to deal with that, and I won't -- but they may need watching." Franklyn fidgets, then looks out towards the window. "...I should get going soon. I need to... Follow some things up..." Isolde knew a lot. She’d been a Changeling for a long time. So she was more aware of things than others. “Like most things from Arcadia, they never make sense. Gentry rarely do. For example, I got a fucked up Disney forest.” she chuckles. “And if you don’t want to be involved then we should not involve you. Do you think CB would be willing to speak to someone in the Freehold?” she asks her. Then there’s a moment of thought, “Maybe we can get someone to anonymously tell them.” she states. “And hey...” she states soothing as she stands and crosses over to her, “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you while you’re here. You look exhausted. How about you catch a few hours of sleep and whatever needs doing can wait until you’re refreshed a bit?” she offers. “I need to do some work for a conference so I can sit at the desk and watch over you.” she adds. "...Disney forest?!" Franklyn looks intrigued by this - but cautious and... A little overwhelmed. She's not at her best - that may be a story for another time. Shaky hands reach up, and she pushes her hair back-back-back before holding her temples between her palms. "Would C.B... Freehold?..." Squint, think - try and remember what that means. "...I'm not sure. Glitch knows what Teagan's plan is - they made it together. I would go to him and his wife Nathania for details. She said she was... Winter? That's a Court thing, right? I know they are secretive, but if they're part of your group, they may be more willing to communicate." Who =is= Franky's sponsor, anyway? Another story, another time... When Isolde offers her to stay, Franky loos momentarily embarrassed -- maybe it's the part about looking exhausted? Vanity is a cruel mistress! Stubborn pride is also difficult to swallow, but... Franklyn nods after a few moments, relieved and guilty and nervous all at the same time. Cornucopia of feelings. "Thank you, Isolde. I would like that, yeah." A beat. "I trust you not to put me out of my misery, when I'm slumbering, right?" Franklyn is grinning crookedly - like, oh hah hah, this is just a joke - but there's something in the way she -peers- at her fellow Garreau which suggests that, yes, the Paranoid little Mortal is trying to make sure she won't be mercy killed if she accepts the offer to nap. Man. Suspicious, even of family? Franky does not trust easily, but oh boy, does she want to. Almost as badly as she wants to sleep... “That’s a story for another night.” Isolde chuckles to her as she looks to her. “And no, I know Mister Alexander is not likely to join the Freehold given he’s so rebellious, which is his right, but I was wondering if he’d talk to us. Though if Glitch and Nathania know, then I may as well go to them. Or let the Crown know and have them speak to them. We’ll work it out.” she waves her hands at that. “And yes, that’s a Court.” she nods to that. “Winter are damn secretive though.” she muses. “But, that’s another lesson for another night.” she chuckles. Then Isolde holds her hands out to her, “I’m not going to put you out of your misery while you sleep. I wouldn’t harm you unless there wasn’t any other way.” she tells her niece. “And I’ll order something delicious for dinner so you can eat when you wake up.” she tells her with a radiant smile. Franklyn nods sombrely -- but oh, for the life of her she can't quite hide that little smile at the mention of C.B's rebeliousness. Damnit, Franky: work on that pokerface! More nodding about Glitch and Nathania -- but by the time Isolde starts talking about Crowns and Courts, she just looks -weary-. Faeries and their monarchies... It's so hard to make sense... Still, she nods, trying to keep up and... Oh thank goodness. Isolde isn't gonna kill her -- that makes Franklyn smile; even if it wobbles a bit at 'any other way'. Hesitant nod. Right. Good to know... "That would be, great. Something light." Yeah. Because Franky - who looks like she's been avoiding solids for far too long - needs to avoid eating. Sheesh. Still, the waifish mortal tries to match the glorious radiance of that smile, fails abysmally, and still perseveres with her own weird, wild eyed, weary smile instead. "Isolde? Thank you. I feel... So much better. You are, like? An amazing healer. Thank you, thank you..." Aw, is she gonna cry? Not if Franky can help it -- she's on the move, standing up and taking her bag and... Ready to the pointed in whatever direction she needs to go, in order to find a soft pillow and some hard sleep.