((Inspired by my recent dearth of decent RP and the fact that I scraped
together enough guts to make a decent post to another email RP I'm involved
in... Flush with victory, I send some more shreds of plot into the aether.
*L* Anyone who needs a recap, boot me in the head, for I know I deserve
it.
Ye shall recieve satisfaction.))
~*High Tea, Continued*~
Once introductions are made, Elidi serves the tea, allowing no one to help.
Kerr tries, briefly, with the air of one who knows better; she gives him
a
flashing look and he settles back with a rather sardonic grin. Everyone
is
given time to drink- or at least cradle their cup and try not to look /too/
awkward- before a round of 'inconsequential' small talk (gossip) begins.
"So, my /old friend/," Elidi says to Brooghan, her eyes glinting at him
over
the rim of her cup as she sips slowly, "I have heard some interesting things
of late, things concerning you and your... brother," her gaze encompasses
Gregor for a moment, taking in his discomfort but strangely not mocking
it
as would be expected. "You have taken in a pair of Childlings?" She sounds
faintly scandalized, but it is false; amusement shows on her face when she
looks again at Brooghan. Kerr is watching her, his own features inscrutable.
((You all can jump in anytime; I'd rather this turn in to some sort of
decent conversational RP, rather than me beating you over the head with
plot
points and then sending you on your woozy way. However, I'll do it if I
have
to, dammit...))
Appreaciates this, but obviously not going to interrupt,
this is
Brooghan's arena, not mine. If asked a question, though, I will answer
(or if Brooghan doesn't say anything after the normal amount of time to
answer the following...)
Broogan grins slightly. "I have more than enough space in my
residence
for more and this pair seem to be very good at uncovering information in
ways I cannot. Besides, their antics involving Gregor are highly
amusing."
~*Bryn & Blake*~ ((MEGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!! JENNYLAAAAA!!!))
Bryn, meanwhile, after knocking about the city for a while as is her wont,
has managed to win friends and influence people. One day, she stops into
a
Borders books, attracted by a sign on the sidewalk advertising a live
storyteller performing at that very moment. As soon as she walks into the
cafe, standing at the back of a large and bespelled crowd, she knows this
is
no /ordinary/ tale-spinner. The man standing on the small stage, hypnotizing
the banal crowd with his very words, is an Eshu Grump. She too feels the
pull of his art, being at heart a storyteller herself, and listens until
he
is finished, nearly two hours later. Only as the crowd begins to disperse-
slowly, as if awakening from a dream- does she realize that many of them
are
also Kithain.
In fact, one Childling who is eeling by Bryn at this very moment looks
vaguely familiar to her. It is Blake (Emil).
((Forgive the copious liberties I have taken with your characters... grouse
at me later... etc. You may either collar the Unseelie brat, speak to the
Eshu, or, hell, I dunno, go book shopping, Meghan. Jennyla, you may speak
to
Meghan or anyone else, likewise.))
((What the Hell...*L*)) Emil stops, surprised that he almost
missed Bryn.
After a few seconds of blinking at her, he approaches her shyly, hands in
his pockets, but he smiles; he likes Bryn. "Did you come because you
collect stories too?" he asks, referring to the storyteller.
~*Another aside for Emil*~
Emil, with his habit of wandering the streets where no normal 7 year old
would venture, regularly encountered- or rather, observed from a prudent
distance- all matter of strange and disquieting Fae. HE was streetsmart-
quite proficent, generally, at avoiding unwanted attention. However, for
the
past few blocks someone, or some/thing/, had been on his six, and they
weren't budging. For the moment, whatever it was was contenting itself with
simple observation, but how long the fairly unintrusive reconassaince would
last was anyone's guess. ((Ugh. Methinks I use big words merely to impress
myself. *L*))
((It startles me how well you've captured this kid's ego. *L*))
After awhile, Emil started getting scared...noticably alarmed, not wanting
to go home, or to his glen, for fear the whatever-it-was would follow him
there. Crawling under a fence, he slips into a churchyard he usually cuts
through, hiding in one of the big stone gazebos built for the even bigger
families that get buried there. Curling up against a piller, he hopes that
lying low is all he needs to do with this whatever-it-is.
~*And last but not least, Demiant*~
((Sorry, this is a rather short one)) Spence (Demian)- quiet, unassuming,
and almost as watchful as some Sluagh- notices that something is definitely
up at Court. Nothing overt as yet, just... hints. Shadows like the darkness
of some great leviathan beneath the surface of deep water. ((Is Amy sleepy,
or is she melodramatic? *music swells*)) Everyone, from the most
blue-blooded of the nobles (not the Duke, although one would think it) to
the least-tolerated Fool of a Pooka, is distinctly nervous. And Demian's
mentor- while always bad-tempered, due to his dislike of the boy- is even
more snappish than usual.
((It is Poe, or is it Memorex, ladies and gentlemen? You decide.))
((Geez. Is there no one this kid can turn to, now that I think about it?
What he'll probably do is ask one of the Duke's servants (an apprentice,
like him...or someone of his caliber) if there is a problem that he does
not
know about. And tell his brother, so he'll know about Emil's being
/watched/. *LOL*))
((There! When I deliver, I /deliver/. But not in 30 minutes or less.))
Amy.
((Now if only someone could tell me /why/ I have "Found a peanut, found
a
peanut, found a peeeeeeaaaaaannnnuttttt...." running through my head...))
((*looks at the peanut butter M&Ms she's munching on* *FDLOL*))
((Gah. Thanks SO much Jennyla. *LHAO, now has "Your Fault" from 'Into
the
Woods' running through her head*))
TO CONTINUE:
as Elidi: She raises her eyebrows at Broogan and smiles, looking at Gregor.
"And you,
Sir Troll? Do you find these antics amusing?"
"Eh? Ah, well Ma'am, er, Mi-Lady, they're fun at times, but still
take a
bit 'ah looking after..." [[ooc: THAT WAS NOT FAIR! (g) He is no social
grace! "I soiled my armor I was so scared!" *so neh!*]]
to Emil: For a moment all is quiet, then he can hear footsteps crunching
over the
grass. It sounds like more than one person- two at least, maybe three. They
are not trying to be quiet any longer. As they get closer, Emil can hear
whispering. The voices sound like children's- two lower voices, boys', and
one that is higher-pitched, a girl's. When they come within a yard or so
of
the gazebo, they stop to a fierce round of apparent arguing. A moment's
scuffling and the girl's voice hushes the other two, commanding. It is also
her that calls out, "Hello in there..."
Blake is not a happy camper right now; for all his bravado, the kid's
so
scared he's nearly sick. Then, he wonders, what the heck AM I scared of?
Certainly not the fact that they can tail me even though they're my age
and
more than anything probably Fae as well...
Still, he takes out his harmonica (blow darts, so to speak...see his C
sheet), loaded and ready. Turning to crouch on his haunches, he peeks above
the gazebo...just his eyes, nothing else. (Though that teddy-bear eared
hat
will probably give him away.)
Blake's cautious peeking reveals a little triad of childlings
standing
about 20 feet away from his hiding place. They are again whispering
together. Two of them are boys and one of them is a girl. The girl,
you can tell even in the uncertain light, is a Satyr. At present she
is not listening to the other two, who are arguing at her. The taller
of the two boys is dark-skinned. He seems to be an Eshu. The shorter
boy is dressed quite unusually- a long sleeved white shirt, dark
pants, and some sort of cloak made from what appears to be an old
velvet curtain. He may be a Nocker. Suddenly the Satyr girl, glancing
up and seeming to look right into Blake's eyes where he hides,
sing-songs
"Spin a coin, spin a coin,
All fall down;
Queen Nefertiti
Stalks through the town.
Over the pavements-"
The boys hush her up, seeming fearful; she shakes them off.
"Are you going to come out or not?"
Blake's eyes are visible and he feels foolish, but he continues to play
along, still holding his weapon. "What for?" he calls back.
and Demiant: ((There are some older scribe's apprentices (and even
some younger scribes).
Some are even commoners. Which would he rather? *G*))
((He'll ask an apprentice of his own age, more likely a commoner than
not,
since the Duke doesn't seem to be ruffled.))
**And then Bryn spoke up thusly- Bryn looks down
at Blake, grinning in spite of herself. "I don't collect
them. I just stumble across them every now and then. Do you want to get
some biscotti. It's terrible stuff, but I think it's important to eat
something you don't like, just to keep things in perspective."
The kid, pulling at his coat, wrinkles his nose. "Biscetti? Is that
that
noodly stuff with the red sauce that sticks when you throw it on the wall?"**
{the story, thanks to my laziness, deteriorated here}