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File: Take Me To Wonderland.png (290 KB, 500x500)
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New Avalon Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=New%20Avalon
Colors' Sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1gq9ZEFrwnYjQpSeuMg1a_7UepedMrQUSEwbrHWntFCo/edit?usp=sharing
Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1768574/

You are Colors Eriksdotter, terminally gay, and this date has suddenly sideswiped into Depression City so hard that it's almost like you're with a Lost instead of a mortal. You are not taking it well.

"What? No! Fancy, we can still have a good time," you almost plead.

You can feel her biting retort form, hot and angry and sharp, harsh enough to give off the whiff of Glamour laced with rage and sorrow, but the dancer sees the look on your face and thinks better of it; Fancy bites her lip, sighs, and pushes her fries away.

"Probably not," she says after a moment. "...But I guess we can talk, a bit. Let's settle our bill and get my car."
>>
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>>1792556
There is an unfortunate cross-section between 'things you never learned about properly' and 'things you're expected to do as an adult', and tipping your server is one of them. You wait until Marcy is distracted with someone else, then drop four twenties on the table and pull Fancy out the front door as fast as you dare. The dancer looks back over her shoulder in amazement as the two of you leave and hit the sidewalk.

"She havin' a rough time?" Fancy asks at last.

"Nnnnnoooooo?" you hazard.

"...You sleepin' with her or her family?"

"No!"

"Why -"

"Reasons. Magic reasons." You adjust the strap of your purse and stare straight ahead, trying and failing to will the awkward embarrassment off of your face, but thankfully Fancy seems willing to just let it drop. "So...thoughts on the whole...car...thing?"

"Figured we can sit up in the garage and talk for a spell," Fancy admits. "...It's not anything personal, Colors. Everyone's got...we all work through some shit. And some of that has to take time."

"Yeah," you murmur, deflating. "I guess."

Fancy seems to be deciding something, and when she arrives at her conclusion she talks in a low voice, not hurt but with the memory of hurt, with old pains held close for too long. "The thing that gets me is, even after she was right, Jasmine was still wrong," the dancer tells you. "She went looking for magic inside little tablets, swore she was getting close to some, some higher dimension, some transcendent knowledge, and it was just acid, you know? She ruined her life for nothing, chasing...chasing you, I guess."

> That's not fair
> ...Fancy, when the Mask was still there, sometimes - addicts and drunks could see us sometimes, Fancy
> Is that why you wanted to see the Hedge?
> Say nothing
> Write-in?
>>
>>1792430
That is not his secret, but it DOES have to do with Crash.

>>1789142
I'm not gonna give the full character-selection breakdown but I'll give you names/titles, gender/kith/seeming, and Theme.

Summer
> Jack Felix, the King's Shadow (male Hunterheart Beast; "Be A Man.")

> Deputy Vickie Reeds (female Razorhand/Cyclopean Darkling; "Tell Them, Still Angry.")

> Sparky Jones, Quartermaster (male Levinquick Elemental; "Look Before You Leap.")

> Sir Angel Rodriguez (male Gargantuan Ogre; "Protect And Serve.")

> Whiskey Jack (male Brewer Wizened; "Second Chances.")

Autumn
> Fawn Freeman, Apprentice Fateweaver (female Broadback Beast; "The Dying Of The Light.")

> Saint Nick (male Tunnelgrub Darkling; "What Cannot Be Un-Seen.")

> Hemlock Rivers of the Down-And-Outs (female Woodwalker Elemental; "Two Can Keep A Secret.")

> Big Lissa, the Jack Ketch (female Gristlegrinder Ogre; "Might Makes Right.")

> The Rook (male Gameplayer Wizened; "Double Or Nothing.")

Continued.
>>
>>1792602
And I fucking forgot the Fairest from both just kill me now. I THOUGHT something felt off.

Summer
> James Woods (male Flowering Fairest; "Immortal Glory.")

Autumn
> Maga Wilma Seeker (female Dancer Fairest; "Face Your Demons.")

I gotta do Winter either over the phone or when I get home, 'cause now I'm going to work. Votes remain open.

Questions, comments, discussion, feedback, and criticisms remain welcome and appreciated.

Thank you all for reading and participating!
>>
>>1792602
Are Crash and Dash in an incestuous relationship?
>>
>>1792573
>Write-in?
>"Do you... Do you resent us for that? For hiding behind a mask all this time?"
>"I understand that people yearn for a little magic in their life, but what I can't grasp is why they would hurt the ones that care about them the most to obtain it."
Having addicts and drunks sometimes see through the mask isn't really helpful here, since it is a slim chance and even then they we're high/intoxicated so they wouldn't have seen a clear image anyway.

Ho boy, that did NOT go anywhere near what I thought would happen, and makes me somewhat worried, I can't read the general mood, at all.
>>
Awesome, I want to get in on this Quest.
>>
>>1792602
These all sound like really interesting characters and I want to know more.

>>1792738
...What?

>>1792789
Addiction in humans probably ruins their Clarity, so the things that Should Not Be Seen are suddenly revealed. Of course, these folks are already being consumed by the drink or the powder or whatever poison their shooting up, so nobody with any sense is going to believe them when they say that their next door neighbor is a soul-eating elf-vampire or that the butcher down the road has teeth and eyes made of obsidian.

>>1792869
Welcome to Wonderland!
>>
>>1792879
>...What?
Was doing some heavy guesswork with that, in response to:
>>1792602
>That is not his secret, but it DOES have to do with Crash.
>>
>>1792573
> Write-in?
"It's not about chasing magic, you know? It's about filling a gap, a void no matter what the cost... Some people take up music, sports, drugs and worse but the constant is there; we're never satisfied.
But the kicker, and it's a sad one... filling that gap might not be that good, I mean look at me!
I got a taste of magic up close and damn..."
>>
>>1792573
> ...Fancy, when the Mask was still there, sometimes - addicts and drunks could see us sometimes.
Gotta be truthful now. She should be able to understand what Clarity is now that Changelings are out in the open.

Also supporting this; >>1792789

>>1792889
I got that part, but what in the hell made you think that they were fucking? This isn't Game of Thrones. It is much, much better.
>>
>>1792908
It was noted down as a "Dark Secret" and it involved both of them, in hindsight, I may have been reading too many smut quests recently?
>>
>>1792915
Probably. I mean, Vox wrote a little smut for Harry and Isoldt (Nate's smith-dad and the cute succubus from DLQ), and it was very good. But any lewds on our part will probably happen off-screen or be linked from off the site.

Personally, I was thinking that maybe Dash and Crash are not in fact brothers, but instead it may be that one of them was changed to look like the other as a way to either escape from some enemy or as part of a pledge. Like, maybe they both escaped the Hedge at the same time, and one became the other's twin to fool a Keeper that was actively on their tail.
>>
>>1792602
Winter
> Mary Dove (female Windwing Beast; "Not A Spectator Sport.")

> Moira (female Whisperwisp Darkling; "All That Remains.")

> Barrister Rick Rotten (male Blightbent Elemental; "For Those That Cannot.")

> Luscious Lou (male Draconic Fairest; "By The People.")

> Bianca Riddle (female Artist Wizened; "Life Imitates Art.")
>>
>>1792972
And I forgot Forum. It'll be a moment.
>>
>>1792982
> And I forgot Forum.
That seems to be the poor guy's lot in life.

> Deputy Vickie Reeds (female Razorhand/Cyclopean Darkling; "Tell Them, Still Angry.")
I wonder who's the "them" that best girl is still angry at. Maybe that will come up when she's got enough tequila in her.
>>
>>1792573
And since I should probably vote too.
> ...Fancy, when the Mask was still there, sometimes - addicts and drunks could see us sometimes, Fancy
>>
Did we ever get a description of Fancy? Because I'm imagining her pretty, well to be blunt, pretty voluptuous.

Which doesn't really strike me as correct for a ballet dancer, even a former one
>>
>>1793603
Only thing I can recall as a description is her being blonde. But as a dancer, I'm guessing she's fairly athletic.
>>
>>1793554
I mean, I was also phone posting on my break.

> Forum (male Troll Ogre; "Change Or Die.")

As for Vickie, it's a reference. The full original quote is, "When they ask how I died, tell them, still angry."

>>1793603
You might be surprised, though not necessarily too much. I've known dancers that are jacked as fuck. Those lifts are no joke, and neither are things like en pointe, leaps, or spins.

Fancy is a classic Georgia belle, with long golden-blonde hair (usually in a ponytail when she's not working), summery green eyes, and a bright, easy smile. She's fit but lean, from dancing, yoga, and running, and can often be caught in comfy and light clothes like khakis or sundresses. Her accent has largely drifted away, though it comes out hard when she's flirting or yelling.
>>
>>1793671
>She's fit but lean
So not actually southern

I shouldn't expect a yankee like you to get the body types right :^)
>>
>>1793671
also when I said voluptuous I meant stacked, not jacked
>>
>>1793744
If you wanna tell the Dixie girls in my life that they're doing it wrong that's your business. Also your funeral, but you do you.
>>
>>1793751
>dixie girls in Michigan

>distant laughing Texan sounds
>>
>>1793751
Oh also, I was very hesistant to start reading this, I was one of the saltier people that you ended dungeon life (very well, but very quickly near the end) for a setting you didn't make and I didn't care about. But I bit the bullet and read all the threads in a few hours.

Damnit vox, damn you for doing this to me again. Now I'm here forever
>>
>>1792573
>> ...Fancy, when the Mask was still there, sometimes - addicts and drunks could see us sometimes, Fancy
>>
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Called, writing.

>>1793779
D'aww. Cinderella Sanction has been a bit of a hard sell for some of my former readers (one gentleman has said straight-out that he has no interest whatsoever in anything connected to White Wolf). Can I ask what won you over?
>>
>>1795091
Well I think reading the other stories helped, especially Zippo's.

And I recently got more involved with OWOD, which is a pretty neat setting. I hope some werewolf and Vampire stuff shows up.

But honestly what really got me was just how good your writing is
>>
>>1795106
> oWoD
That is the wrong WoD. Changeling: the Lost is part of nWoD, my friend. oWoD is Changeling: the Dreaming, which was...how can I put this charitably...in what delicate way can I describe -

It was a sin against nature.

Thanks for the answer though man. I'd hoped the one-shots would help folks get a peek at the setting and develop and interest; it's nice to know they're doing their jobs!
>>
>>1795120
is that short story you wanted to write done? I saw you say something about it in another thread and I haven't seen it linked.

and I know this is nwod changeling, I just like owod vamps and werewolves more
>>
>>1795091
Normally I'd be in the same camp as that nameless gentleman, but you've proven yourself to not be shit. I hate the hell out of White Wolf, but that doesn't mean I won't give a proven author a chance in a White Wolf setting.
>>
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>>1792573
You wrestle with what to say for a little while, which is honestly kind of okay; you've hit that magic point in the night when the streets are too full for the level of darkness involved and as a result everyone drives like homicidal fucking maniacs. Fancy presciently pulls you back from a curb right before a cab hops it in its mad desperation to get Where It Is Going faster than everyone else. You're still trying to wrap your head around how things got all sad out of nowhere.

But...hell. She deserves the truth.

"Fancy, before...there were people who could see us, before the Mask dropped. I don't know the whole list. Seventh sons of seventh sons and, I dunno, mad people I guess, but one I always knew from experience is that people who are drunk, or high, could sometimes see us." You wait, tensely, not quite holding your breath but only because you have to walk and seize up in fear at the same time.

Fancy shakes her head, after a moment. "How would she tell?" your friend sighs. "She wouldn't. She couldn't. I can't do this," she says suddenly. "I can't just tiptoe around this like there isn't this big obvious difference between us, Colors. I've been tryin', Lord knows, and it feels like you're not okay with it, but...hell, denial is supposed to be a river in Africa."

You take some time to collect your thoughts. They take a bit of collecting; the two of you enter the parking garage in the time it takes you to get your thoughts and feelings in some kind of order. "Do you resent us, for hiding?" you ask at last, your soft tones echoing in this glass-less hole of a fucking building. "Me?" you add.

"What kinda girl do you take me for?" Fancy asks softly, looking hurt. "You think if I had somethin' to be mad about that I wouldn't throw it in your face and just have it out? Or that I'm so desperate that I'd lead you on and fawn over you for a touch of something strange?"

"Fancy, please," you plead. "I'm trying to understand, I - I'm lost here! And Lost, here! We were having a good time and then it...we..." you trail off. "What'd I do?" you ask at last, you voice small.

The dancer sighs, and opens the passenger door for you. "You didn't do nothin', Colors," she tells you. "Nobody really did anything exactly wrong. It's just the way things are sometimes."

You get in, buckle, and tighten your seatbelt. The two of you drive in silence, broken up primarily by Fancy swearing creatively at her fellow motorists. For a brief period you are too busy screaming in your head with raw terror to be sad or mad or even confused. Then she pulls up to your house, and all of that comes creeping back.

"I'd love to do this again sometime," Fancy tells you. She looks at you and you get the ghost of a little sideways smile, all corner-of-the-mouth and no teeth. "Maybe learn some about how to do glass properly, if you're teaching. But, Colors?"

"Yes?" you ask, eyes wide.
>>
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>>1795563
"I'm a big girl, and so are you. Just...stay honest with me about what you want out of this, and I'll stay honest with you. I dunno who you might have dated before...everything, or what you've done after, but tonight was nice, and it was also 'I'm looking for a partner' dating, and not 'I'm looking to have fun' dating. Don't make any decisions now, but if you wanna have fun, tell me. If you wanna try somethin' else, tell me. If you decide you're sweet on someone else, or you just wanna be done...tell me. And I'll tell you." Fancy offers her hand out.

"...You know what promises are like with us," you murmur.

"Yeah," Fancy agrees. "I do."

> Bind the pledge
> Do not
>>
>>1795125
Not yet. I ended up with a tie between The Fireworks Show & Semper Fi so I'm doing both.
>>
>>1795576
so weird question, we're not switching MC's after this arc right? I'm assuming not but I thought I'd ask
>>
>>1795594
You are not.
>>
>>1795568
>> Bind the pledge
>>
>Bind the pledge

But first, confess that you have a sort of platonic love to a married lady

Also, what is the legal Status of fetches? Is their soulless nature evident because of the Fall of the Mask? And if they think as a normal person and develop a personality apart from the Lost, shouldnt they have human rights?
>>
I wonder if we'll get any Dom art for colors like we did for Bri?
>>
>>1795568
>Bind the pledge
>>
> Do not

We could try a normal relationship?
>>
>>1795568
> Bind the pledge
"What would a knight be without a fair lady?"
>>
Called, writing.
>>
>>1795603
The Mask still works perfectly for Fetches. The Lost are very irate about this inequity.
>>
>>1795568
You look at Fancy's hand for a moment, and then you clasp it. "Alright. We'll try it out for a moon, and the Wyrd can help us out," you agree. Your heart flutters as the pledge binds with the familiar rush of promised faith and truth.

And then Fancy is kissing your lips and your poor heart is fluttering for other reasons entirely. You melt with a surprised sound, and sit, in a daze, back against the seat when your friend pulls away.

You've sworn the Heart's Honesty Pledge

"You're warm," Fancy murmurs. "...Guess we should probably start with some opening comments and confessions. I regularly get the hots for my dancing partners and seduce them until they can't pick themselves up off of the chairs in the dressing room."

"I might be in love with a married woman," you admit, still gobsmacked from that kiss.

"...Damn, I think you win that one," Fancy admits. "You know if you go for that I'm gonna high kick you into next week, right?"

"Sounds fair. Um. I'm the reason gay Pixie Chasers keep clean bills of health in their purses now?"

"Wow. You tryin' to change your ways or something, hon?" Fancy's eyes are all interest and raised eyebrows.

"...I don't know?" you offer.

"You sweet on that friend of yours?"

"I don't know," you admit a second time.

"Bad at knowing what you want?"

"Like you would not believe."

Fancy laughs and runs her fingers through your glass hair. "Well, just...loop me in when you figure that out, alright? You can unbuckle, you know. The car's stopped."

You unbuckle and open your door, but you pause just outside the car and turn to look at the dancer. "Are we - Fancy, are we a thing?"

"Are we?" she asks, eyes on yours. She shakes her head when she sees the look on your face. "If the answer is 'I don't know' again, then it's 'no', Colors. But it might be nice if we were, sometime. You come see me when you're done not dyin', and we can see about a second date, yeah?"

You nod and shut the car door. Fancy tips you a wave and pulls away, leaving you alone with your house. You need to catch some sleep.

You go through your nightly routine with a heady mix of confusion, sorrow, joy, lust (so much lust), and vague, detached exhaustion. You double-check your locks after you shower and then crawl into bed to pass out.

Your dreams take you back to the theater, and this time you let it happen.

You have to prepare for today.

> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
> Do not call in this month's supply of Glamour from Ramona

AND

> Call a motley meeting before the official one that will happen with Arthur
> Just let it ride
>>
>>1795948
What is monthly glamour?
>>
>>1795960
As noted in your Pledges section, Colors can call in four Glamour per month from Ramona as part of the oath that makes her a knight of the Freehold.
>>
>>1795948
>Call in your Glamour from Ramona
Totally not an excuse for Ramona to get to tease Colors
>Just let it ride
I don't see what we would need to discuss beforehand.
>>
>>1795948
>> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
> Just let it ride
>>
>>1795948
> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
Going into what's probably going to be a very serious fight, may as well top off.

> Call a motley meeting before the official one that will happen with Arthur
>>
>>1795948
> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
> Call a motley meeting before the official one that will happen with Arthur
>>
Came home unexpectedly early. I'm gonna call and write at 6 PM; votes are open until then. Any tie will be broken by die roll.
>>
>>1795948
>> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
> Just let it ride
>>
Called, writing. Might be a minute.
>>
>>1795120
Wait, really? A lot of the folks I've ever played WoD with have always told me that pretty much oWoD > nWoD in pretty much every aspect.

Of course, never really seen a game of Changeling ever even offered, so, there's that. I wasn't really impressed with nWoD Vampire and Mage because the fluff seemed to be missing quite a lot is Changeling any better on that score?
>>
>>1795948
>> Call in your Glamour from Ramona
> Call a motley meeting before the official one that will happen with Arthur
>>
>>1795948
You dance a lot better in your dreams than you do in real life. Being that close to someone else can be unsettling sometimes, not because you're touching but because it's so easy to forget you're having a good time and start thinking you're having a fight.

But in your dreams, in the sanctity of your own mind, you can dance. Maybe Fancy can help you make that a reality, instead of just a fantasy.

...Admittedly with more clothes on. Or maybe not.

Memories of other parts of your dreams drift in while you wake up and try to go about your morning routine. Erin had been there, bleeding from empty eye sockets, trying to cut in to dance with you, and all the lights in the theater had been these odd pearlescent things, dripping gleaming blood, and now that you think about it the persistent good mood you'd had in your sleep is a little fucking disturbing. Or is it? Everything made sense then...

Note to self: find an oneiromancer or a therapist or something.

You drag yourself through the house, clutching Bifrost close to your side, feeling oddly tired despite the sleep you got. A shower helps shock the worst of exhaustion off, as does getting breakfast around (coffee, bagel with cream cheese, and a shocking amount of just straight cheddar sliced off the block and popped into your mouth). You get dressed, shrug into your twilight mail, and then dig your jacket out of the dryer. It's a few minutes getting your junk back into it, but you finally feel normal again once it's done.

You take the brick out of your purse and hang it back up on its peg, to await the next moment when you do not have pockets. You pat yourself down, double-check Bifrost at your hip, and then step out your front door. Your home is in order, and will be cared for if you don't come back, though honestly despite everything you're feeling optimistic. You have backup, you have the advantage of information, and best of all, the children will be safe.

You lock your door, smiling to yourself, and pocket your keys before you set out. You get your phone out in the morning mist and get to Ramona on your contacts.

[I need to call in my Glamour, Lady Rabbit.]

[Understandable. I'll meet you just before the briefing, in the lobby.] she shoots back. Satisfied, you pocket your phone. Simple, easy, and familiar. It's nice to know where you are with people.

Ramona meets you in the lobby, as promised, with that 'I've had meetings' look on her face that you know from years of dealing with monarchs, but though her elegant emerald dress is silk, you can't help but notice the running flats on her feet.

Fuck, did Fancy give you a fetish? Damnit. Damnit all to Helheim!
>>
>>1796860
question, you called Ramona a black rabbit before, but in arthur's story you said she had white ears? Just a continuity error or?
>>
>>1796860
Vox?
You kill?
>>
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>>1796860
"Shall we?" Ramona invites. You nod and offer your hand, which she takes with a firm but not unkind grip. A couple of the people in the lobby look; all but the newer arrivals look away after a moment, having seen this before or heard about it.

"True to my honor, bound in the emblem of my Court, I offer you that which is yours, freely and in the joy of truth upheld," Ramona intones, formally.

"True to my honor, sworn on the emblem of your Court, I accept your offering in the joy of truth upheld," you return. There is a rush of Glamour, flavored with the warm troth of a Pledge upheld, that settles snugly into your Wyrd.

You gain 4 Glamour from Ramona Rabbit

"We need to talk, when I get back," you tell her in a low and serious tone. "...I backslid."

"I know," Ramona tells you, her eyes all warmth and sympathy. "It is hard to admit?"

"Yes."

"All of us sometimes fall prey to our pasts. You know I am here to help you with your Spring, as I am here for all of my Court. We will talk, after this is said and done. But, Colors? Thank you, for thinking of Erin."

You scowl, then sigh. "...I don't like her."

"She does not want to be liked. You respected her enough to ask for her help, and that is a good first step for her, and for you, I think. I would not dream of asking a Knight of the Aesir to begin forgiving her enemies rather than taking revenge, but consider it..." she pauses. "Wergild, perhaps."

Wergil. Blood money, a payment of labor or of coin, or other trade and goods to formally make right that which you have done wrong. For the murder of her father, the giantess Skadi demanded of the gods that they make her laugh, and furnish her with a husband, and when these things were done all was forgiven.

"I can get behind that," you tell her. "But I have not forgotten. Her new Spring will have to flower forth in all the fullness of its glory before anyone forgets, my Lady."

Ramona nods and steps aside, gesturing to the elevator. "King Raven's suite, if you would be so kind. The Rook is already there, as is Erin. I am given to understand that Vickie and Forum will be arriving momentarily, having been delayed with...their affairs."

"Good thinking."

The elevator ride up is a good chance for you to smooth out your jacket, straighten your clothes, make yourself look presentable, and otherwise attend to little details in an effort to be and remain calm.

King Raven's home has been done up for a council of war, complete with a map of the city that you've seen before - or rather, you've seen the form before. It maps various known Trods and Hedge Gates, and describes the areas of the Thorns they lead to, or relate to, the exact phrasing depending on which mystic you're talking to. As promised, the Rook and Erin are there. King Raven himself is in evidence, though he is quite a distance from the proceedings. His successor, Zoe, is closer to the action.
>>
>>1797574
You go to look back at the map when something catches your eye. Raven is looking at you, observant and interested. The ancient Beast raises his hand and produces, from his sleeve, a small chess piece - a rook, in point of fact. He sets it on the table next to him and returns to looking at the map.

> Uhhh, Rook?
> Approach Raven
> Get on with the plot Vox I swear to God
>>
>>1797575
>> Uhhh, Rook?

FEED ME MORE CHARACTER MOMENTS
>>
>>1797575
> Uhhh, Rook?
There's a scary man here.
>>
Sorry that update took so long. Things came up. I'ma crawl into bed and die; I'll update when I awaken.
>>
>>1797013
There's any number of ways or reasons she might have changed that, ranging from the mundane (dye) to the mild-but-magical (Mirror) to seasonal shifts (white rabbits are more Winter/Spring, where black and brown are Summer and Autumn colors).

But it was a continuity error yeah.
>>
>>1797640
I'm more interested in if Ramona and Arthur are going at it like rabbits.
>>
>>1797575
>Uhhh, Rook?
>>
> Approach Raven
>>
>>1797702
I prefer that to always remain both a possibility and a mystery.

>>1797575
What could Colours do if she carried around a glass mirror. Like a compact of sorts.

Make a little glass throwing knife?

Glass dust to throw in people's eyes? (Glitter dust!)

Glass knuckles?

Molten glass knuckles?

What if she wore a bunch of gaudy glass jewellery, could she use that?
>>
>>1797857
She can't melt it unless she's got a source of heat (or it's already molten) but yeah more or less any of that. The thing to keep in mind is she can't fix what she breaks and she can't make more via Elements. What she's got on hand is what she's got.
>>
Called, writing.
>>
>>1798073
Glass jewellery is cheap as fuck. Let's get a bunch.
>>
>>1798432
You ok man? Do you need somebody to come by and sacrifice a virgin coffee pot or something?
>>
>>1799188
Real Life(tm) interrupts yet again.
>>
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>>1797575
You approach the Rook, cautiously, eyes flicking to keep Raven in your field of view, but the old King seems content to look vastly amused, for now.

"Morning," the Rook mutters, without looking up from the map. "Arthur and Zoe are going to have their soldiers cut off nearby...as much as any are 'nearby', Hedge Gates to our entrance point. Should ensure that even if John gets away, he eats it."

You nod; it makes sense. "Did, ah. Did something happen between you and Raven?"

The Rook scowls and coughs into his elbow. What was clearly meant to be a single, throat-clearing noise becomes a long series of wracking coughs that shake his shoulder. The Wizened wipes a line of blood away from his lips and gives you a hateful glare, daring you to say something about his show of weakness.

You look down at the map instead and let him collect his thoughts.

"Why do you care?" he asks, at last.

You shrug. "I like you?"

"You don't know me. Even if I believe you, that's a stupid move to make. Who am I, to you? A failed -" the Rook coughs again, his face twisted in cold rage. He takes a moment to breathe. "A failed prince, to be pitied? A jackal? Are you acting out of some misplaced gratitude for stopping Reeds from doing something stupid to herself?"

"I could just...like you," you point out.

"No one likes me." He says it so frankly, so softly, without a trace of irony or hesitation. He sighs and sits back in a chair, resting his head in his hand. "...I always get nervous before a big operation. Please do not take my hostility personally."

"We all have our moments," you grant. "...I do still want to know."

"Of course you do." The Rook fishes tissues out from his pockets and wipes down his jacket and his mouth. He tosses them into the air with a sharp whistle; Reminisce swoops from Zoe's shoulder and catches them in his talons before dive-bombing them into the trash.

"Can I know about that first?" you ask, staring.

"He lost a bet," Zoe calls from across the room, without looking up. "If it's the bird you're asking about."

"That," the Rook agrees. His voice lowers, and you drift closer to hear him. "...I asked him why he did not back my claim to the throne. It took me a long time to decide to broach the subject. I respect King Raven, and like most of my Court I even love him. Anyone he endorsed would have the crown, with no questions asked. I did not get the answer that I expected."

"...Was it the murder thing?" you ask, delicately.

"Please. What Court am I?" The Rook sits up and leans forward, elbow on his knee. "...He said that I lost the throne precisely because I saw it as something to be passed down from him. He was my mentor. My master in the mystic arts. Now he will be gone, maybe forever, leaving his Court and his Freehold in the hands of a warlock huckster and the -" he stops, sucking in a ragged breath to calm himself and to hold off another coughing jag, "the cult leader that she managed to trick into backing her."
>>
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>>1799294
"What did Zoe ever do to you?" you ask. "...Aside from the arm thing."

"She's Fairest, a known oathbreaker, and a toothless wretch. Does she have to have done anything? She will wreck the reputation of Autumn and turn us into soft scholars and sorcerous decorations to be paraded before the mortals. She talks about embracing our role as advisors but she's soft, unwilling or unable to remember that the Court of Fear is meant to take up the dreadful duties that others will not." The Rook takes a deep breath, his voice wet and jagged. "But she is pretty, and I am hateful. She smiles and I threaten, and so they follow her, assured that they will get a hug instead of the lash. She's weak. Irresponsible. Ignorant."

You cough, uncomfortably.

"Oh, you may as well say it. 'Rook, that's racist'. I hear it often enough. Nevermind that people assume Wizened are for hire or that Ogres like Forum are the first you think of if you have heavy lifting or dirty jobs to be done. Fairest have powers of persuasion that far outstrip their actual abilities. They are the blind leading the fucking blind, with exceptions that are all to rare. She will fail, and we will fail with her."

"Okay, but aren't you questioning Raven's judgement?" you point out.

"He didn't back her claim either. She talked Rachael Reeds around, and then it was two on one, when I was already weak." The Rook growls low in his throat. "I conceded my claim."

The door opens, admitting Vickie and more importantly, admitting the astounding amount of coffee being carried by Vickie. The Darkling has cups galore, which she oh-so-carefully manages to get onto the table.

"Everyone's got vanilla," Vickie announces. "Except you, your Majesty, I know coffee doesn't agree with you."

"Wise," Raven agrees, with a nod. "Your friend the troll will be here momentarily."

No one asks how he knows. You drift away from the Rook, both out of respect for the fact that this conversation is definitely over and because the look of long and frustrated rage etched into his face is all too familiar to you. Forum arrives in the next couple of minutes, showing up with King Arthur and that spidery Beast that was with Misery Monroe at the initial meeting. Everyone gathers around the table.

"Ramona will not be joining us, as she is handling some delicate negotiations with the city council," Arthur announces. "Thank you all for coming. I will be direct: just before noon, Task Force: VALKYRIE will assault the high school containing the Wonderlander teens. Many of those children come from situations that would be unethical to return them to, and it has been tentatively agreed that guardians from among the Freehold or our mortal associates could and should be found. VALKYRIE is willing to play ball."

"At what cost?" the Rook rasps.
>>
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>>1799394
"Among other things, we need to contain this situation and keep it in the Hedge," the King of Summer explains. "Any mortals we recover are to be turned over to VALKYRIE custody, while we have free reign over any captured Lost. John is not to make it out alive."

"Good," Vickie flashes a predatory grin. "He's a bastard anyway."

"Is it really all going their way?" you ask, dubiously. "They seem to be dictating a lot of these terms."

"We wanted a lot of this," Zoe cuts in. "You gotta keep in mind, this shit spilling back onto Earth looks bad. And it doesn't just look bad, you think John's gonna hold his shit in, or care about collateral? The fucking Wing threw him out."

"Correct," Arthur agrees. "More importantly, it continues the good working relationship we've established with the Valks. Neither of us may trust the other, but we do need to work together, not just for mutual benefit but to protect the innocent. Part of ensuring that we don't become a bad X-Men plot line is sitting at the table to play the game as it's meant to be played. Things are going well thus far. I dare say we've been a smash hit with our mortal peers, which is...wonderful, honestly," the Ogre admits. "But it won't stay that way if we aren't careful."

The spidery Beast from Winter puts a finger on one of the pins in the map. "You want the Smithson Arms Gate," she tells your group. "It's the most direct available route to the cityscape area of the Hedge. Try to be careful. John's had who knows how long to fuck that place up."

"Are there further questions?" Arthur asks. He is greeted by silence around the table. "Then move out."

It feels weird, with Erin and her handler leaving with the rest of you. The ex-Satrap is quiet, and sporting an addition to her mail armor and the rapier at her side - a white blindfold, emblazoned with green, stylized eyes.

"Does that -"

"Don't insult your own intelligence by finishing that question," Erin interrupts. "I had a long time to plan for things."

Well fuck her too then.

"My backup will meet us there," the Rook tells the rest of you. He falls behind the group so he can make a series of phone calls, leaving you walking next to Vickie. The Darkling offers you a jar of jam while she nurses her coffee.

"You're looking better," you note, optimistically. "...Like, stupid better."

"Yeah," she says after she swallows. "The Rook went and got a bunch of his personal fruits for me. Really helped patch me up. This, um. This is actually his too, or it was, until he gave it to me. Seems like you might need it real quick."

...Huh. You open the jar, realize you don't have a spoon, and look up to see Vickie already holding one. The jam tastes like hell, which is no surprise, but it helps.

You regain 1 HEALTH.

"Thanks for suggesting that I go see him. It was a nice night," Vickie admits. "So, um. Yeah."

"Yeah," you agree, vaguely.
>>
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"You get laid?" Vickie gives an amazed look at your sputtering reaction. "How did you not?"

"It wasn't the time!"

"Jesus, Colors, night before a big fight isn't the time? Are you one of those people who thinks they fight better horny - you are aren't you."

You cough. "There's...science...there."

"Oh. My god. Colors, why are you like this?"

"Are we not taking the bus?" Erin asks, after about three blocks. "This walking shit is one of the reasons we domesticated the horse, for fuck's sake."

"Colors doesn't do buses," Vickie says. "And walking's good for you, pirate."

"I can go home," Erin points out. "I don't have to be here."

"We'd prefer you here, Erin," you cut in. "We need you."

Erin Peters shrugs. You get a small nod from Shipmate Sally, though, before her charge drifts back to stay closer to her handler.

Smithson Arms is a disused bar, kept in just enough repair not to be condemned and owned by the Freehold. The Rook's reinforcements consist of a set of Autumn's apprentices - an Ogre girl with a bronze, genie-like look to her, and a young Fairest boy with small, curving horns above his violet eyes - and one of his known servants, a Hedge Ranger you recognize as Thomas the Crow. Rumor has it that Thomas was kept by the same Gentry that made King Raven what he is, but today you're just grateful that he came loaded for bear, with extra javelins and a vest full of flintlocks.

"I'd say we'll have the numerical advantage but I don't want to jinx it," Forum comments. Your Troll (friend?) cracks his knuckles before slipping on a set of brass knuckles. "Orders, Fearless Leader?"

> Favor speed over stealth; you can't risk Rainbow John getting away if he gets tipped off
> Keep it quiet

AND

> Perform a blessing for the group
> Do not
>>
>>1799546
> Keep it quiet.
His soldiers are neither actual soldiers, nor do they have the experience we do. If we can get the drop on them, we can just knock out any stragglers and tie them up somewhere somewhat secure.

> Perform a blessing for the group.
Unless any other members of our group are faithful, this should be fine.

Also, I would totally make a reference to Odin the Wise for the Rook, but he might take offense given his previous failed ambitions.
>>
>>1799546
>> Favor speed over stealth; you can't risk Rainbow John getting away if he gets tipped off
> Perform a blessing for the group
>>
>>1799546
> Favor speed over stealth; you can't risk Rainbow John getting away if he gets tipped off

And

> Perform a blessing for the group if they accept the offer

Man we should have gotten a shit ton of cheap glass jewellery for this part. Go in looking like Mr. T got tossed through a rainbow.
>>
>>1799579
> Also, I would totally make a reference to Odin the Wise for the Rook, but he might take offense given his previous failed ambitions.

Oh?
>>
>>1799546
Question, is our group especially predisposed for noise or stealth?
>>
>>1799639
I think we're generally a noisy bunch.
>>
>>1799639
I mean, Colors herself isn't particularly stealthy but, generally, stealth. The sorcerer's apprentices might have trouble staying quiet but the Rook, Thomas, Forum, and Vickie are all quiet as fuck.
>>
>>1799546
>> Keep it quiet
>AND
>> Perform a blessing for the group
>>
>>1799546
> Keep it quiet
> Do not
>>
>>1799546
>Keep it quiet
>Perform a blessing
>>
>>1799623
Odin was the glorious, all-powerful, all-knowing father and King of the Aesir. He sacrificed an eye to further increase his wisdom, cunning, and knowledge.

Rook, on the other hand, aspired to be the next King of Autumn and failed. He played the game, lost badly, and only survived because Zoe asked Ms. Reeds to spare his life.
>>
Looks like we're gonna Keep It Quiet and perform the blessing. Called, writing.
>>
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>>1799546
"We'll do this quiet," you decide. "I don't want to spoil the element of surprise, if we can avoid it. Which...Erin, Thomas, can we avoid it?"

"Maybe," Thomas the Crow answers. He smooths back the black feathers that are his hair. "On the one hand, the Hedge, it reacts to people, and especially to people with Wyrd. On the other hand, this Rainbow John guy feels okay enough about this place to give tours and do his tradeoffs there. Might be his place, and if it's his place, it might not change for us."

Erin nods. "It's worth a shot. I've got a potent Wyrd myself, but ownership counts for a lot."

"Alright. Once we engage, the priority is to extract any mortals that have not yet been delivered," you emphasize. "Followed by Rainbow John, followed by his men. His people are victims in this too - if we can get them out alive, we should."

"Easier said than done," Vickie mutters.

"I can heal, whiner," Erin snaps. "Just don't extract their fucking hearts and we ought to be fine."

"Bitch," Vickie says under her breath. You catch Sally put a hand on Erin's shoulder out of the corner of your eye.

You clear your throat, loudly. "Before we set out, it's..." the word 'traditional' dies on your lips before it can even really be born; there's long and probably unsolvable arguments about what is and is not 'traditional' when it comes to the faith of the Aesir. "I would like to pray and bless myself for battle, and to invite anyone that so chooses to receive that blessing as well."

There's some looks shared around. "I'm honored," Forum says, almost immediately. "I'll take it."

"I could use a blessing in my life," Erin decides. Sally, behind her, declines with a shake of her head and takes a step back so as not to intrude.

"I'm not religious," the demonic Fairest demurs. His fellow apprentice likewise declines, though she watches with interested eyes.

The Rook steps in, without comment.

"I can't," Vickie says after a moment. She looks almost guilty; she turns her head away and steps back, out of the loose circle created by those of you who choose to participate. "...I'll say a prayer for you over here, if that's okay. With you. Colors, that is," she clarifies. There is a small metallic slithering before she produces a plain steel cross on the end of a chain from her sleeve, where it must be wrapped around her wrist.

"By all means," you grant, softly. Vickie's relief is visible; she hops up on a crate and leans forward, murmuring under her breath with the cross between two of her fingers. She rubs it slowly while she prays.

You clear your throat. You don't normally lead ceremonies, but it's not like there's anyone else on hand, and, well, the downside of being a lone practitioner tends to be being a lone practitioner. You slowly - slowly - pull Bifrost from its sheath and hold the blade up with your right hand.
>>
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>>1800666
Your companions wouldn't know, but you tend to favor your off-hand when invoking the Evenhanded. It seems...appropriate, considering His maiming. An anticipatory hush falls over the group, disturbed only by Vickie's low, reverent voice from atop her crate.

"We gather here, warriors and heroes, on the cusp of righteous battle," you begin, feeling it out as you go. The words are not planned, but they feel right. "From the gods we ask little, save that justice be done and that, should we fall with blade in hand, we be accepted by the valkyries and received in the joy due to worthy warriors."

You slice the tip of your thumb on Bifrost's edge, producing a beading of blood. Going clockwise, you mark your companions on the back of their hands, drawing thurisaz, the Thorn, in your hot, blackened blood on the backs of their hands. You sheathe your blade before marking yourself.

"To Evenhanded Tyr, the blood of the wicked!" you call.

"To Evenhanded Tyr!" the others return, in spontaneous chorus. You nod in satisfaction.

You have bolstered your allies.

The Fairest apprentice blinks in bewilderment while his Ogre companion nods thoughtfully.

Vickie slips off of her crate and falls in with the group while you file inside. "I'm sorry," she murmurs.

"For what?"

"...Tequila," she says, a little lamely. "Lots of tequila."

The gate in this place is the door to the men's restroom, which Thomas knocks and opens for the group. The Windwing pokes his head in, investigating the Hedge immediately inside, and then slips onto the path. You and the others follow, staying as quiet as you can, and wait for the gate to finally snap shut behind you.

"I'll take point," Erin volunteers. "Crow, you want the rearguard?"

"Makes the most sense," the Hedge Ranger agrees. "Shake, rattle, and roll everyone."

What follows is a brief but firm lesson on how to Be More Quiet, and then the group moves out. It's daylight in the Hedge, with the sun slashing through the overgrowth like scattered lasers. Vickie winces whenever she crosses through the harsh light of the day. A riot of orange, yellow, and red flowers marks the ascendancy of the Summer Court in this territory, which 'belongs' to the New Avalon Freehold insofar as the Hedge can belong to anything or anyone. Erin stops regularly (holding up a delicate hand) to determine where to go.

You all stay on the path, despite its twists and turns. Leaving it at this stage would be pointlessly dangerous.
>>
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>>1800725
The wild vines and brambles of the Thorns start to give way to something stranger after an unknown amount of time (the sun sits there in the sky, stubbornly failing to move, which cannot be a good thing); the path becomes lined with gravel and then a strange kind of concrete made from stone and glass and thorns. The vines give way to twisting, glass-edged things made of silver, concrete, and rebar that thread and slither together, drowning out the sounds of the Hedge with its chiming vibrations.

And then the path - 'opens up' is not the right phrasing, because the Thorns are still very much in evidence, in the form of glass-edged flowers and jagged fragments of things that do not look enough like windows, but 'branches out' might be better. The walls of the Hedge pull back into something almost like a clearing, and the path threads its way through and around wild things vaguely like buildings, which lean and twist with jagged, maw-like windows and glass fruits that sway and chime in the breeze. Some distance away you can see someone bright and colorful along with other, human-like figures.

"I smell mortals," Vickie announces, sotto voce

> Split up; task the Rook and his backup with circling around while the rest of you take the direct approach [Athletics at difficulty 7]
> Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]

You can assume that Colors is going to activate Cloak of Glass and Armor of Glass's Fury since both are available for free. If you would like to spend for or activate anything else - such as her Seeming blessing - please include it with your votes.
>>
>>1800738
>> Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]

I say spend for Flickering and Spend for our seeming bonus, we have plenty
>>
>>1800746
How much for Flickering? You can spend up to three if you're also popping your blessing.
>>
>>1800748

My bad, I assumed it was only one.

>>1800738
>spend 2 glamour for flickering
>>
>>1800748
and by blessing I meant Resilience, if that wasn't clear
>>
>>1800725
>What follows is a brief but firm lesson on how to Be More Quiet
Now I am reminded of the lesson: How Not to Be Seen. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifmRgQX82O4
But imagine a Keeper that has latched on to Monty Python as their theme.

>>1800738
>stay together
Splitting up is a bit difficult, and risky.
>>
>>1800738
>> Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
>>
I won't be able to update before work; votes remain open.
>>
>>1800738
>Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
I'm fine with spending but don't ask me how many.
>>
> Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
> Spend 2 Glamour
>>
>>1800738
> Stay together; you can't afford to get caught out by reinforcements [Stealth at difficulty 6; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
>>
Alright, I'm seeing no arguments against spending the Seeming blessing and at least one vote for it, so we'll pop 1 Glamour for Elemental Resilience.

Called. Our winner is Stay Together. You've opted to spend 2 Glamour on Flickering Acumen; roll me 1d10+3, twice.
>>
Rolled 9 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>
Rolled 1 + 3 (1d10 + 3)

>>1802571
>>
>>1802618
Yaaay!

>>1802659
Boooo!
>>
>>1802618
Thanks anon
>>
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>>1800738
9+3 = 12; Success, Overkill

"Stay quiet and do what you can to keep the mortals out of it," you instruct the others. "We don't need them caught in any crossfire. I'll take point. We get as close as we can, and then take them by whatever surprise we can muster."

"Whatever we can muster?" the Fairest apprentice asks, askance.

"You would be amazed how often you have the drop on someone only for them to gut you on sheer reflex," the Rook rasps.

"That," you agree. You signal the others and begin your approach, staying light on your feet to minimize the sound from your big boots. Sometimes stealth is about not being seen, and sometimes it's about not being seen until it's too late, and this is definitely one of those times. You flash the Fire within, feeding Glamour to your molten blood to sharpen your senses and keep you from slipping or cracking something with your boots. You feed the Wyrd, hardening your glass and tapping into your Elemental nature.

You spend 3 Glamour. You gain Elemental Resilience.

You see Vickie slip ahead, following her nose. The Darkling girl seizes a loose bit of rebar and jams it through the handle of a pair of double doors before dashing on. The others are fanning out, dispersing among the buildings, still racing straight for your targets.

You draw Bifrost and run a thumb along the flat of its blade. Time to work you murmur.

Deal's a deal. Glass returns.

Spines of glass twist out from your body, growing delicately between your mail armor before hardening, thickening like falling snow into long icicles of stained glass with jagged edges that glisten and gleam in the light.

You activate Cloak of Glass and Armor of Glass's Fury via their catches. You gain 1 Armor

When you're ready the Glass of this place chimes and murmurs in your ears.

Not yet.

You're getting close enough to hear voices. There's eight people in evidence, all Lost, though some of them are so green that you can still see Thorn-marks in them, scars from a painful trip through the Hedge. Rainbow John is arguing with a subordinate, a hunched goblin man that you'd bet money is a Tunnelgrub of some kind.

John is surprisingly like you, tall and statuesque, but while his hair is of glass and so are his eyes, what he bleeds and radiates is raw color, which drapes him like a cloak, infests his resplendent armor, swirls and whirls and rises like a radiant wind around him. And he is displeased.

"This city is a gold mine," he snaps. "We can't simply pull up stakes and flee because you're getting a bad feeling. There are people here so desperate to escape the horrors of their own mortal society that they'd agree to this even knowing what it costs!"

"We can't - John!"

"Don't John me -"

"Behind you, jackass! the Darkling screeches, diving for a pickaxe up against the wall of a nearby building.

Now you tell Glass.
>>
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>>1803173
Here, in this place in the Hedge where the Glass grows like flowers and reflects the daylight everywhere, you need absolutely nothing to make it obey your will. Windows shatter, razor petals fly off of their stems, rising in a flock of bladed death that lifts high behind you.

John turns and sweeps his hand up, encasing himself in a shell of concrete as the Hedge obeys his blazing Wyrd, but that leaves his allies exposed.

"To the Evenhanded, the blood!"

"The blood!" your allies roar, and the glass falls like rain, driving John's servants into cover, slicing arms and piercing legs.

A sharp, piercing whistle echoes from inside the dome that John has taken shelter in. The ground lurches, sending combatants on both sides spilling to the ground or lunging for something to support themselves with - you catch yourself with the side of one of the building-things - with cries of alarm. The battlefield rumbles, shakes and -

- And -

And it's standing up.

John's shelter erupts in a spray of stone. The shrapnel catches the Fairest apprentice in the temple, burying itself in his brain, and peppers combatants on both sides who aren't close enough to cover, and from Rainbow John ripples too-bright light, blazing and burning and harsh, that infects the concrete and the glass. The air swims with a technicolor haze.

"This is my place," John roars; he pulls blades from the air, wavy, insubstantial things made of smoke-filled glass that tickle the back of your mind in a familiar way. "Mirror, Mirror, take us to the Fairest of Lands!"

You hear the grinding and chiming of glass gears, and then the City-Hedge is moving, grinding down the Thorns in its way as it lurches and sputters towards Arcadia.

"Man the guns," John barks. "The bitch is mine."

"Do I know you?" you ask.

"I know you, lapdog!"

> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded
> Order some people inside to stop whatever this is from reaching Arcadia

AND

> Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction)
> Let it go

Whatever you choose, roll me Melee (1d10+4) three times. If you choose to maintain your focus on the glass I'll just subtract the penalty from the result.
>>
Rolled 7 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>1803182
>> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded
> Let it go
>>
Rolled 8 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>1803182
> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded.
> Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction)
>>
Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>1803182
> Order some people inside to stop whatever this is from reaching Arcadia
> Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction)
>>
>>1803182
>> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded
AND
>>Let it go
>>
>>1803277
Also, John's fresh recruits should abhor the idead of going back into Arcadia. Maybe we can convince them to at least help stop the City-Hedge
>>
> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded
AND
> Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction)
>>
>>1803182
>Send people to stop the guns from being loaded
>Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction)
>>
Rolled 8 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

Ah, we should roll a third time properly, right?
>>
Looks like the result of our Melee roll is 12. Votes remain open though; I've gotta get ready for work.
>>
>>1803182
>You hear the grinding and chiming of glass gears
... we've got his polar weakness. We can just tell the glass gears to ... stop. Oops, no more moving city.
>>
>>1803452
He can tell it to keep going though, best we could hope for would be the conflicting orders doing damage to the mechanism.
>>
>>1803452
How sure are you that those gears are both in range and small enough for you to stop?
>>
>>1803481
Or that...
>>
>>1803481
can we listen to the glass to find the weakspot, the flywheel that drives it? Whatever it is that would be easiest to stop the entire thing
>>
>>1803481
Why do we have to stop them when we can just shatter one? Or warp it smooth, or meld them together.

We don't have to brute force it.

>>1803515
Can we just ask the glass?

>>1803182

Could we just . . . Not fight him but run towards the Gears? For one thing he'll never expect it.
>>
>>1803589
Means finding a way to disengage, then get into the interior. Not saying it's outside the realm of possibility but at this current moment thou art sort of Busy.
>>
>>1803595
There's a solution to that!

> Keep directing the glass

Glass the cunt right in his face. Alternatively we do have other people with us, get them to hold him here while we do

> Order some people inside to stop whatever this is from reaching Arcadia

One day people will listen to my recommendations made way back when to get some grenades for things like this.
>>
>>1803182
> Send people to stop the guns from being loaded.
> Keep directing the glass (-1 on other actions from distraction).

I feel kinda bad for the poor little Fairest kid. We didn't even get a chance to learn his name! At least he died quickly. We can perform the last rites for him when we get back to the Freehold, with a solid glass tombstone.

Also, it feels a little weird that John should know Colors. I mean, sure, he could have had bad past encounters with her former order, but knowing her personally seems like a little bit of a stretch.

>>1803623
> One day people will listen to my recommendations made way back when to get some grenades for things like this.
While I also agree that carrying some heavy ordinance would be nice for dealing with nasty targets like this, its kinda hard to hide a rocket launcher under your coat. Plus, the Valks would probably get uppity if we started carrying anything bigger than a double-barrel shotgun or a hunting rifle. Though, now that I think about it, a six-shooter would be a nice little addition to Colors arsenal.
>>
>>1805036
Sawed off twelve gauge would be ideal, you could buy/make cold iron buckshot
>>
Aight, not updating tonight. I've had a hell of a day and now I need to take a bed apart, haul it places, build a new bed, and somehow also wake up at a reasonable hours.

You have my sincere apologies.
>>
All caught up now. Thank you for this glorious look into the new changeling world. I am enjoying it thoroughly.

I find colors utterly charming in her tomboyish naivete and incredibly relatable in a very personal way, and Fancy is a lucky lady if she decides to hold onto that.
>>
>>1805860
hi XS, sorry to hear about your lungs again... Hope you get better
>>
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To keep everyone in the loop:

I'm closing my store tonight, which means a long shift followed by me getting home hella late. I'll give my best-faith effort to update tonight, but I can make no promises. This will be followed by getting up early tomorrow to finish assembling that bed, at which time I will finally get a decent night's fucking sleep. Expect updates tomorrow evening at the latest; in the meantime I'm fielding Q&A.

>>1805860
Welcome back, my friend! I'm gonna be over here quietly experiencing raw terror at having someone I know is conversant in the setting caught all the way up with my work.

> I find colors utterly charming in her tomboyish naivete and incredibly relatable in a very personal way, and Fancy is a lucky lady if she decides to hold onto that.

D'aww. If it's not too much to ask, can I get you to expand on the 'relateable' bit?
>>
>>1806385
>'relateable'
>Sucker for a pretty girl with an even prettier smile.
>>
>>1806385
Depends. Have you seen the original Captain Harlock series or movies 9not the most recent CGI one).

Slightly staid, very thirsty young tomboy lesbian with an addled code of honor outlook and an ingrained desire to be some pretty girl's prince is pretty much me in my teen years....with the occaisonal slightly psychotic flash and deep seated paranoia of being found out for what I was at the time.__So, yes, VERY personally relatable.__Mind you, I WAS seventeen at the time, and not even close to mature in my outlooks.__I even practiced fencing and martial arts at the time.
>>
>>1806418
....well, you're not wrong....
>>
>>1806418
Lots of people like a pretty smile, though!

>>1807015
I have not previously heard of that series, no.

I continue to acquire anecdotal support for the Celt's theory that lesbian girls fantasize about being knights as children so that they can Date The Princess
>>
>>1806385
So would colors be open to getting some fire arm support to her kit? Being formerly Summer I wouldn't put it past her, unless it contradicted some aesir honor code.
>>
>>1807165
The premise is that Captain Harlock is a Space Pirate, and has a peculiar code of ethics and sense of duties and idealized freedoms. Most of the movies are about a young man being taken in and learning from the hands of the masters, and coming of age. Freedom to choose is important, as it duty, but duty and freedom of choice also come behind making the universe safe for the good people in it, but even that comes after being a person of your word.
>>
>>1807175
It's certainly on the table. Colors learned the basics in Philly but guns never quite fit her warrior ideal (read: her aesthetic) and additionally Bifrost was familiar and comforting. That's not to say she has anything against firearms, just why she continued her melee emphasis after she got back home.

>>1807196
Huh.
>>
>>1807437
Neat, maybe this operation will open colors up to the idea more.
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>>1805036
We don't need to go full Rambo. But like, two grenades go a long way.

There also wasn't any reaction to my suggestion that we carry a source of glass around like a makeup mirror or better yet a bunch of glass jewelry.
Always have it with us, touching us, and not have to worry about replacing windows.
>>
>>1805036
> This is my place," John roars; he pulls blades from the air, wavy, insubstantial things made of smoke-filled glass that tickle the back of your mind in a familiar way.

Coincidence often drives narrative.

As well, he could have simply had informants tell him about the people trying to track him down and learned about us.
I get the feeling the Lost are a relatively small community, and although Colours doesn't realize it she's a rather notable figure. First for being Forsworn from Summer, but also because our close proximity to Ramona as you will remember Rook pointing out.
>>
>>1807015

...That sounds a helluva lot like Revolutionary Girl Utena...

...especially with the fencing.
>>
>>1809016
Anime wasn't a big thing when I was a teen, outside of of kluged together Robotech and Captain Harlock. Manga wasn't even a thing outside of Japan town and Chinatown in San Francisco, unless you found indie retailers who sold doujin, often untranslated.
>>
Called, writing. My endless apologies for the wait.
>>
>>1803182
Final melee result is 11 after distraction penalty; success

"Break the guns," you snap. It's all you have time for before Rainbow John is on you.

You've fought swordsmen like this before, and it's always a bitch. He comes at you, raining blows in a tide of raw hate. You parry, sidestep, cede ground, staying a step away from those smoke-filled shortswords that won't stop trying to tickle your memory. You've seen blades like these before, somewhere.

In your peripheral vision Forum seizes one of John's men - a Wizened maybe half his size - and rips the poor man up by his wrists before cracking him against the concrete like a whip. Vickie comes flying up from behind and intercepts another of the militia members with a flying tackle that sends both of them rolling away.

The ground lurches beneath your feet again; this walking fortress has hit something. You and John stumble in opposite directions, struggling to stay on your feet.

"How did He find me?" John demands. You answer with a torrent of glass shards; he sprays concrete into the cloud of shrapnel, powdering your ammunition and forcing you to call more from around yourself.

"I still have no idea who you're talking about," you warn, circling. You've murdered people who had less hate on their face than this Fairest.

"Don't play stupid with me, lapdog," John spits. "The Giant."

"...No," you murmur. "You - you were one of His -"

"One of His pets," Rainbow John lunges, blades slashing in diagonals. You step into it, stabbing with your longer blade, forcing him to kill his own momentum and leap back to avoid being impaled.

The concrete block that swats you aside hits like the fist of God.

You take 4 damage, reduced to 1 by your armor.

"And you were one of His pretty little guards," John hisses. He scrapes his blades together, making them chime and sing; the vibrating sound builds up light inside the smoke of the swords. "He should have come Himself, lapdog. The only way I'm going back is at the head of the army come to claim His head!"

"Colors, who the fuck is he talking about?" Erin calls from somewhere to your left. "You wanna share with the class?"

"The Heartless Giant," you and John say at the same time, voices colored with hate. "...Our Keeper," you add, more soberly.

"You don't even remember, do you?" The resplendent Fairest circles with you, eyes narrowed, the colors that ripple from him blazing brighter and brighter. The world swims as he poisons the Hedge with his Wyrd. "You don't remember what you did, or to whom, or why, or for how long. Aren't you the lucky one."

"This is insane, John. You've gone off the deep end, this won't get you revenge!"

"Says you!"

"What are the fucking odds?" Erin complains.

"Oh my god you bitch shut up!" Vickie yells from your other side.

You and John stop for a moment and look at each other.

"This is seriously who your traitor Courts sent to stop me?"
>>
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>>1811346
"John, if I'm going to sort through every last bit of your fucking damage during this fight we're going to be here until this thing crashed into Arcadia. Fight me or stop the fortress but would you shut up?"

At least the guns aren't manned. You hope.

> Disengage [Athletics vs. John's melee]
> Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
> Use Goblin's Malignance to redirect one of John's allies against him [1 Glamour, anger the Summer Court; Wyrd against difficulty 10]

AND

> Keep the pressure on John with your glass
> Pepper John's allies

Either way give me a Wyrd roll (1d10+4 twice) for that glass
>>
Should note, write-in ideas are welcome. I'll do my best to answer about their plausibility.

Been awhile since I've written big fights in a quest format.
>>
Rolled 7 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>1811375
>> Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
> Keep the pressure on John with your glass

Spend 2 for flickering
>>
Rolled 7 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>1811375
> Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
> Keep the pressure on John with your glass
>>
could someone roll and vote so we can move on please?

Just remember to spend 2 for flickering so we can pass the DC
>>
>>1811375
> TAUNT

I don't know what I did to you when was just as much a slave as any other, and I don't want to. I've chosen to leave that behind.

But you, tricking innocents with hope only to use them as you need them. Looks like you chose to turn yourself into a lesser version of Him.
>>
>>1811789
and never mind we only needed two
>>
>>1811789
Two rolls already happened lol.
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>>1812036
yeah I got mistaken, assumed it was three.

Vox didn't say anything so I assumed he was waiting.
>>
>>1812122
I mean, there's the whole 'votes' thing too.
>>
>>1812156
I don't think you're going to get many more mate
>>
>>1811375
> Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
> Keep the pressure on John with your glass

Spend 2 for flickering
>>
>>1811375
Ok then, GMT here
> Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]
AND
>> Pepper John's allies
>>
>>1812739
I need more coffee
>Spend 2 for Flickering Acumen
>>
>>1811375
>Glowing swords are not good swords. Break them. [Melee at difficulty 12; you may spend for Flickering Acumen]

and backing
>>1811995
>I don't know what I did to you when was just as much a slave as any other, and I don't want to. I've chosen to leave that behind.
>But you, tricking innocents with hope only to use them as you need them. Looks like you chose to turn yourself into a lesser version of Him.
>>
Aight, called.

Roll me 1d10+5 3 times. You expend 2 Glamour.
>>
>>1813220
Why did I put that in spoiler text. I need coffee.
>>
Rolled 10 + 5 (1d10 + 5)

>>1813220
>>
Rolled 4 + 5 (1d10 + 5)

Odin guide our blade!
>>
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Rolled 4 + 5 (1d10 + 5)

>>1813220
>>
Wyrd Roll: 7+4=11; Success

Melee Roll: 5+5=10; Success With Consequences

Writing new thread.
>>
>>1813227
HOW DID MY EYEBALLS MISS THIS ROLL

FUCK

THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR NOT HAVING MY COFFEE BEFORE I DO THINGS

JESUS I'M GLAD I CAUGHT THIS BEFORE I FINISHED WRITING
>>
>>1813251

Those are some gorgeous dice.
>>
>>1813274
>>1813307
Good thing it got caught.
>>
NEW THREAD

>>1813361
>>1813361
>>1813361
>>1813361




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