Goblin Town -- Logs

By sunset on Solstice Day, Cinnamon is quietly happy. Her little cottage is beautifully decorated with twinkling lights in the windows and a bright, cheery holiday wreathe on her door. Further (and to her great delight!) it actually snowed today! So she'd happily set out a little trail of luminarias on the path to her house, with snow to keep the candles in place within the pretty, decorated little paper bags. Inside her cottage, elegant swags of pine twisted with ivy and holly drape her windows, front door, and upper floor; and big, friendly, red velvet bows sparkle as accents wherever she could tuck them in! Many of her friends have stopped by, and she hopes even more will now that it's getting dark.

Cinnamon has closed off her upstairs and turned her kitchen counter into a long buffet of tasty goodies, and she periodically brings out another tray from either the oven or the freezer, as food or drink gets low. Holiday music plays quietly in the background off her little stereo, and the lovely scents of mulled cider and hot chocolate drift through the room, mingling with the spicy piney scent of the prettily decorated little tree tucked into one corner. The little dragon is cheerily dressed in her scarlet arran jumper, with dark green tights and comfy indoor boots, and a bright sprig of green holly (with its scarlet berries) shines in her upswept hair. As a consequence, with thanks to Aisling's quick assistance earlier today, she feels far more elegant than usual!

At the party, Shane is pretty much a constant presence, as are Josie and Spice. Shane doesn't say it out loud, but he's feeling a bit overprotective. He's also being a little more physically affectionate than normal, though it mostly just comes out as more casual brushes of his hand, or gentle shoulder-bumps. Josie is... Josie. She's always excited when groups of her close friends are together -- her pack animal nature kicks in. Fortunately for her, Cinnamon planned carefully months ago -- which means everything potentially fragile is placed well above tail-wag level! Currently the little dragon is sipping some hot cider as she chats with friends, and occasionally answers the door to let in more folks, or hugs friends who have to go. It's been unexpectedly lovely today -- she'd been both surprised and deeply touched at the number of folks who've stopped by... as well as the little gifts which some of her friends brought over and tucked under her tree! So far things have been a great balm to her badly damaged ego: Brynn is right, and she does have real and true friends!

There are a lot of visitors through the night, as almost everyone who received an invitation makes an appearance. Those that don't either had other plans, or have to stay away for other reasons. As an example, Liane doesn't come by, but she sends Cinnamon a gift of the little shortbread cookies she makes. Iason is really too large to fit into Cinnamon's cottage, even with everything cleared away, but Fionn makes an appearance and settles in an out of the way corner for a bit. Since he accidentally picked the corner Cinnamon had stocked with children's toys, he turns out to be quite popular with children. The little dragon happily brings the giant am extra-large plate of goodies, and an equally large mug of whatever drink he'd like, as well -- she'd fortunately realized regular utensils would be too small for him!

Aisling comes by and drops off presents for Cinnamon and for the folks she knows will be circulating through, before gracefully mingling into the crowd. Thorn visits as well, during one of his breaks, and he brings Cinnamon a set of spices as a Solstice gift. Some are particularly potent, but he's been doing research not only on medicinal herbs, but culinary herbs and spices. Cinnamon is delighted, thanking Thorn with a warm hug, and a present for him as well! It's a small, leather-bound journal that has a pen attachment, and a loop to hook onto one's belt. As she happily explains, "This way, you can take good medical notes no matter where you are!" The little package is wrapped with a decorative bow tying a cute little knitted Christmas tree ornament to it as well. The ornament looks like a sprig of holly with a pretty little bell attached; it's one of the cute Icelandic items Cinnamon found there.

Thorn is incredibly pleased with the gift from Cinnamon! He'll be using it extensively, already carrying it with him on his belt as soon as he receives it. Cinnamon beams proudly -- she's thrilled that she can help Thorn at all in his medical work! She also checks with him for a time they can get together and work on teaching her first aid -- as well as anything else Thorn thinks would be good for her to know. Effectively, she'd like to learn everything she can so she can keep people alive in an emergency until Thorn can get to them.

Later, Cinnamon quietly and shyly hands a gift to Shane. His is small -- an envelope with a bow on it, and a ridiculously cute, tiny and grinning, knitted dragon in a Santa cap. When the half-beansidhe opens the envelope, he finds a card that invites him (if he wishes) to work out with staves with Cinnamon once or twice a week as they're both available, at the pocket park -- Muriel has given permission! Shane is ridiculously pleased at the gift -- and moreso at the chance to have time alone with Cinnamon a couple times a week! His gift to her is a necklace -- one very different than the one Marcus gifted her. Shane's is a small, round, wooden medallion strung on a black satin cord, with a delicate painting of the Welsh dragon -- the one from the country's flag -- on the face. The small disc of wood has also been lacquered or dipped in resin to keep it safe and preserve the painting. There's also a pair of warm, hand-knitted socks, which cause Shane's lips to twitch up at the side, "Mum made the socks."

Cinnamon blushes hotly with pleasure -- then hugs Shane tightly! "Thank you so much, Shaney! Oh my gosh I have to send your mom a gift too but I don't know -- oh! Would a, um, I know you got her and Quinn matching socks and beanies and mittens, so, um... w-would she maybe like a pretty lopapeysa too?" She happily puts the little medallion on right away, then admires it for a moment... then beams delightedly up at Shane, "Eeee! This is so beautiful -- thank you again!"

Shane smiles, cheeks coloring a bit, "I... there's a guy that does these little custom paintings..." He clears his throat and touches the little medallion where it rests on Cinnamon's throat, then looks her in the eye, "It's a piece of rowan wood. Quinn sent it from the trod."

Cinnamon's eyes widen, "Ooooh that is so sweet of him! Ohmygosh I just gotta send him something nice too, absolutely!" She brightens, "Ooh, maybe we could make a trip of it, and I could take something for Saoirse too!" She grins up at Shane, "Someday Aisling will have a thingie for Baird so he can safely go international. When that happens, wanna come with, to help him get free of the artifact curse?"

Shane smiles, "I'd love to, acushla. Baird's going to need people to sorta watch his back, if what Ash has told me is right about this... unfortunate circumstance."

Cinnamon nods gravely, "Totally agree!"

When Jalil shows up, Cinnamon happily hugs him and giggles as she asks: did his people like the sweets too? The fire djinn assures Cinnamon that everyone loved the cookies -- which makes her beam delightedly! She shows Jalil the snacks counter, chattering a bit with him about what the various drinks and hors d'oeuvres are... and at one point during their conversation she curiously asks: "Have you talked to Aoi at all, Jalil, about the territory changes you suggested?" Jalil admits he hasn't had much chance to speak yet with Aoi, because this is a busy season.

Cinnamon laughs and agrees, adding, "In that case, I won't mention it at all until you've had a chance to talk to her, okay? Himeko is arranging a tea ceremony teaching for me, with her -- kind of like when you taught me how to make that wonderful Turkish coffee! Plus I totally don't want to offend her any more by appearing rude or grabby or anything... I'm just hoping she'll maybe be willing to eventually talk to me sometimes, once we get to have some time together, you know?"

Diarmaid arrives at some point during the festivities, bearing a basket of goodies which he explains are from Caradog -- but he also adds that the bottles of mead are from Diarmaid himself. Cinnamon is deeply touched at the news that Caradog sent some goodies! As she sets them out for everyone to enjoy, and hands the Captain of the Guard a nice, big plate, she giggles and asks Diarmaid, "Would you be willing to take some cookies back for the king, from me?"

Diarmaid chuckles, "He'll be confused but pleased. People usually give him extravagant and fairly useless gifts."

Cinnamon laughs! "Well, I like practical gifties... at least when I can! I mean, who wants to have to dust a ton of things you can't ever use because they're too fragile to be enjoyed, you know?" A moment later she curiously asks, "Did you brew the mead yourself? I'm quite impressed, if so! Though... hmm. I'm not sure how you serve mead -- this is something cool and new for me! Do I just set out the bottles, or carry one around and offer it to folks, or what, please?" It turns out that this particular mead is a sparkling mead served much like champagne. While Diarmaid didn't brew it, his brother did -- and sent a case of it to Diarmaid as a gift. Cinnamon is thrilled, and shares the mead with enthusiasm!

One visitor who might be a surprise to some is Sparrow. When someone asks him if Solstice is really a holiday he celebrates, he arches a brow, "Why th' fuck wouldn't an indigenous culture celebrate seasons turning? An' anyway, I'm always up for a party with friends!"

Cinnamon squeaks happily at sight of Sparrow, darting over to give him a warm hug, "Sparrow! You came! C'mon, I have some tea for you to try -- I cheated and checked with Kestrel for something you like but don't get very often!" As always, the little dragon completely misses the wonderful potential innuendo of her statement!

Sparrow gives Cinnamon a hug and a loud, playful smacking kiss on the cheek, eyes twinkling, "Mmm... Kestrel does tend to know exactly what I like."

Cinnamon laughs! "Yay! Okay, come see, then, and you can pick one you'd like to try!" She grabs his hand and heads back into the little cottage's kitchen, where there's a simple tea arrangement set up. She pulls a selection of special and slightly unusual teas out of a cupboard for him, chattering cheerfully, "-and Astrid ordered them for me! Okay, here you go -- and there's also hot chocolate, mulled cider, some wine I got from Elias, and even some mead -- thanks to Diarmaid!"

Sparrow waits until Cinnamon has handed him the tea to in lean close, eyes twinkling playfully, "Of course, what would be the best gift would be a little time to get cozy and warm together somewhere alone." It's said with his normal gentle teasing tone -- the one that says he knows Cinnamon's going to turn him down and think he's not serious about it.

Cinnamon tilts her head as she listens to Sparrow... then grins, "No problem! I made sure there were lots of cushions and chairs and things around the little fireplace -- and please help yourself to all the hot food you'd like, so you feel even more cozy, okay? Oh, also there's coffee too if you want, though that's not as popular right now as the mulled cider, apparently. Oh! Excuse me, I should go help Josie with that next tray of goodies coming out of the oven!" With that, Cinnamon darts off... having completely missed the innuendo, "Hi, JoJo! Here, let me give you a hand with that..."

Aisling watches Sparrow blatantly proposition Cinnamon... and then watches it fly directly over the little dragon's head! When Cinnamon has a moment, the beansidhe murmurs in her warm and playful voice, "You know he meant that, right?"

Cinnamon blinks confusedly up at Aisling, after a nice, relaxing sip of her delicious cider, "Who meant what, please?" She glances around uncertainly... the only guy she's been talking with recently is Sparrow! Did someone walk up to talk to him or her, while she and Sparrow were joking together, and she missed it? She hopes they're not offended, if so... whoever they were. "Oh, dear... did I miss someone talking to me?"

Aisling smiles again and indicates Sparrow with a subtle motion of her head, "Him. Sparrow. Mister Laughing Eyes himself. He's a joker and a trickster, but he is always in complete earnest when flirting."

Cinnamon looks relieved for a moment -- good, she didn't miss someone walking up to talk to the hostess! That begs the question, though: who was Sparrow flirting with? There wasn't another woman there, after all... or a man, either? It actually takes a heartbeat or two before the logical conclusion pops into Cinnamon's head... and another heartbeat before she can close her dropped jaw long enough to squeak incredulously, "Wha- bu- y-you -- a-al-alone... m-m-me?!" She blinks slowly again... then laughs in sudden understanding -- Aisling must be joking with her too! Guys don't flirt with girls that get dumped, after all... though it's sweet of Aisling to try and encourage her like this. She grins, "No way!"

Aisling grins right back at her young friend, nearly-yellow eyes dancing, "Cinnamon, Sparrow can be -- that I have personally seen -- a coyote, an actual sparrow, a wolf, an otter, and a raven. Outer packages don't mean much to him."

Ah! Cinnamon relaxes -- Aisling's definitely joking! The little dragon giggles, "Okay! Well, I'm afraid I only do dragon, so hopefully that doesn't make me a disappointment to tease!"

Aisling smiles at Cinnamon and laughs, with a roll of her eyes, "Cinnamon, I'm not teasing and he's not joking. I can call Shane over here and ask him to listen when I say, 'Sparrow always means it when he flirts.' Being willing to good-naturedly accept a negative answer or a lack of reciprocation doesn't mean he doesn't actually want to get you alone somewhere private."

Cinnamon blinks a bit blankly at Aisling, pushing up her glasses as she tries to sort things out in her head -- then actually goes a little pale, "A-al-lone? Like..." she takes a deep breath and then whispers -- but unfortunately can't stop the nervous squeak on the last word, "l-like for... for sex?!" The idea of letting yet another man she's not completely comfortable with, get that close to her, such that they could really emotionally hurt and shatter her again -- especially right now! -- is actually a bit... horrifying. She covers her mouth, turning red with shock and embarrassment as she hastily backs up a few steps while whispering, "Oh -- no! No, n-no, I... uh, no thank you, but... I really -- I'm not... um... not r-ready for that... er, yet? Sorry?!" A few blinks later, and poor Cinnamon has fled into her little kitchen -- while wondering just how it is that Aisling can always so effortlessly make the little dragon turn so steamingly red!

Once he'd dealt with Cinnamon at the Solstice Market -- which wasn't really that difficult, honestly -- Brynn, the motley fool, just sat and thought for a while. He knew the four men who'd initially gone to deal with Cinnamon weren't aggressive or mean -- they'd just been warned (by the somewhat deceptive couple with Marcus) that there was an angry dragon in the food court! Fortunately for the men and for Cinnamon, one of them had a supernatural sense of smell, and realized he wasn't getting even the faintest whiff of adrenaline or rage... and another of them had a teenaged daughter and recognized that tremble in her voice -- the girl was struggling with tears! That's why the men exchanged puzzled looks over Cinnamon's head, then subtle hand gestures to each other as they quietly withdrew... and then let Brynn know he had someone he should definitely talk to there at the Faire! Considering it's a Faire where supernaturals mingle with the unwitting humans, the Spiritual Psychologist hangs around because he's quite good at calming upset folks... and the Faire folk are happy to pay him for keeping things on an even emotional keel.

Consequently, the next day Brynn goes and asks to meet with Marcus. That turns out to be a very embarrassing meeting for the young elf, since the motley fool is excellent at drawing people out... especially when he eventually mentions to Marcus that one would have to be either extraordinarily stupid, or quite desperate, to antagonize a dragon like that... and Brynn is rather sure Marcus isn't stupid... so that would seem to indicate desperation. Further, while it is possible the desperation was due to outside threat, such as needing to save a family member -- since there's apparently no one Marcus loves aside from himself -- considering it was the little dragon herself who'd gone to significant effort to rescue his father and the entire trod recently -- as well as all the councilors and a great many who also lived on Coblyn Street... that would seem to indicate it is an internal desperation: that Marcus himself seems to feel a need to show he does not like the courageous little dragon at all, and to hurt her while publicly pushing her away.

Marcus hastily corrects the Spiritual Psychologist at that point! He's inwardly nervous and outwardly bland as he describes how actually it's the dragon who ended up leaving him, really! So, um... over-emotional and... uncontrolled, huge, uneducated... almost wild -- frightening, really, to have something that... that potentially dangerous, and lower class, have a crush on him... and a totally unsuitable match, of course -- Brynn surely understands, yes?

Brynn doesn't say much, just makes inquiring or agreeing 'mmm' noises at all the right times, as Marcus unwittingly clearly shows his own feelings while psychologically projecting them onto Cinnamon in his story... to the point that Marcus suddenly realizes he's nearly babbling! He cuts off abruptly, eyes widening -- and that's when the motley fool smiles and murmurs, "Oh, I suspect you're safe enough from her. After all..." his strange eyes are bright and focused behind the slightly-silly looking glasses as he stares directly at Marcus, "it would take a person of great strength and integrity to admit they were wrong in how they treated someone else... and they'd also need immense humility and patience in order to show the person they'd hurt so badly that they'd truly changed... so that person might slowly learn to trust them once more."

It takes Marcus a few heartbeats to realize what the motley fool is really saying -- but just as his eyes widen and his lips part to reflexively deny, Brynn smoothly adds, "I believe we've come to the end of our session today." Rising, he continues, "For our second session, shall we pencil in... would you prefer Tuesday or Thursday, next week at the same time?"

Curiously enough it's at about the same time as Brynn is making Marcus really face what he's done, that Cinnamon decides both her friends and Brynn are right, and she shouldn't just hide in her little cottage all day! So she decides to run some errands; one of them is to ask Thorn or Iason if now is a good time for her first First Aid class.

What Cinnamon doesn't know is that the off duty palace guards are drinking some of the good mead they've been gifted for the holidays, and clowning around a bit in their practice yard at the mansion -- and one of the largest manages to get knocked over his own polearm! When he falls, there's a huge *CRACK* sound, due to his getting a seriously badly broken forearm -- which, of course, no one realizes at that moment. But when the guards are all appalled and worried for him, the big Fomorian just waves them off and insists it's nothing... but yes, if they insist, he'll wander on over to the infirmary... but still, it's surely but a scratch!

Consequently, it's Cinnamon standing in the waiting room and politely asking Nikos if Thorn might perhaps have a free moment, since it's the day after a holiday -- maybe that means fewer injured? As she's speaking, the guard comes in, so Cinnamon steps aside at sight of the arrival of a real patient. The big guard, naturally, is trying to tough it out, acting as though nothing at all has really happened. Unfortunately he manages to clonk his broken bone against something, as he's talking -- and the poor guy's face turns a truly unpleasant gray-green shade from the pain, as his eyes roll up in his head -- and he topples over as if he's going to squash Nikos!

Cinnamon squeaks in worry and darts forward reflexively to try to catch the big guard, which fortunately gives Nikos just enough time to scoot out of the way -- but then, to his horror, he sees this enormous, heavy, deadweight monster of a guy just smash down on top of Cinnamon! Poor Nikos is utterly sure little Cinnamon must be flatter than a pancake after being squished like that, and there's clearly a seriously injured guard, too! The little daemon darts forward again, tugging fruitlessly on one of the guard's horns, and yelling for Iason and Thorn stat please!

Just as the two healers come galloping in, and Nikos draws a breath to explain... they all hear a small squeak of effort -- and the middle of the huge, utterly limp body abruptly lifts a few feet into the air! Cinnamon's body-muffled voice can be barely heard as she anxiously calls, "Guys? Is anyone there? I'm sorry, but I can't see anything! But I think I can drag this guy into a waiting room if you'll just tell me which way to go?" Thorn has to cover a smile -- this incident hilariously reminds him a little of those Saturday morning cartoons where the tiny mouse or kitten carts around a huge, confused bulldog!

In the three or so days between Solstice and Christmas Day, Cinnamon deliberately keeps herself busy. After learning first aid from Thorn, she smiles and hands him another little thumbdrive, "Thank you so much again, Thorny! This is the transcription and translation of the French book on the migration history of the various races of elves that I promised you! Remember I told you I borrowed that book, and the one about different magical traditions, from Solange?" She beams as she adds, "So I hope you enjoy and they're useful! I'm not entirely sure when I'll be able to return the books, but Solange said there was no rush -- I could bring them back in a year or so, at some European council meeting!"

Thorn blinks, then beams widely and hugs Cinnamon, "Thank you! This will be really helpful -- thank you so much for translating it!" The little dragon beams in relief that Thorn likes the gift, hugging him back warmly!

Cinnamon also sent a package of cookies to Caradog, via Diarmaid -- and via Ingrid, Cinnamon sent some nice flavored waters to Butler. As her Solstice card to him notes, he may not eat at all due to photosynthesizing... but he must need water sometime? Consequently she hopes this is a fun, friendly little gift for him! Cinnamon does quietly ask Ingrid, however, to let her know please if this isn't something Butler likes at all -- so the little dragon knows not to be a pest with attempts at gifts for him! Cinnamon also wraps up a pretty lopapeysa as a Solstice thank you gift for Shane's mom, giving him the postal-ready package so he can address it as necessary.

Once all that's done, Cinnamon is quiet for a moment, remembering the previous day... some time ago she'd promised Marcus a thumbdrive of all the information currently to hand about the two new species, if Josie agreed to the exchange -- especially since Josie already had the original thumbdrive. The friendly, fluffy wolf spirit had readily agreed, though that had occurred previous to the Solstice Market abandonment. Nevertheless, there's a small part of Cinnamon that doesn't want to give Marcus anything he can say she's done wrong... so she'd pattered down to first check with Waylon the Smith to see if he had any metals he needed identified. While that was being taken care of, she'd hired TimTam to trot up to Elm Mansion and drop off the thumbdrive and a letter... to Jaeger. In the letter Cinnamon had explained the request made of her, and asked politely if Jaeger could ensure the thumbdrive got to the person who requested the information. While the little dragon never actually names Marcus in the note, she does refer to him as 'your son' when writing to Jaeger. She's not entirely sure why... but she knows she really doesn't want to think about Marcus too... too clearly; too precisely.

Jaeger accepts the thumbdrive and the letter with an arched brow, amused and irritated that Marcus has been relegated to 'your son.' His amusement is linked to the lengths Cinnamon is going to, in her greyrocking; he's irritated at Marcus managing to so very completely wreck things... so very quickly. When the elder delivers the information to Marcus, he quietly adds, "Shane gave you a very reasonable way out of the doghouse."

Marcus doesn't smirk -- in fact, there's barely any expression on his face at all, "No. Shane simply told me not to speak to either of them again without a sincere apology. No matter what I say, I'm not getting out of the doghouse with Cinnamon anytime soon, father. Any apology I make isn't going to be accepted at face value."

Thorn checks with Shane -- because the healer really doesn't want to leave any supernaturals associated with Coblyn out in the cold, as it were. Even Hans the angry troll should be checked on now and then to make sure he hasn't accidentally turned completely into stone. There are, after all, supernatural folks who live off Coblyn, since the street is both an enclave, but also a catchment area. Further, as Shane has mentioned previously, there are people living outside the Boston city limits because the urban area isn't conducive to their natures. That means there are other trods nearby, as well -- Caradog's birthplace, for example, is not actually the closest Oak trod.

Shane likes Thorn's idea and goes with him to check on a handful of people, though he suggests they send someone else to check Hans, since the troll despises Shane. Thorn learns that, within Boston proper, there are maybe two dozen supernaturals living inside city limits, but who maintain their residences off Coblyn Street for one reason or another. A scant handful of these are exiles, while another tiny handful live off of Coblyn because they're basically liaisons... or they were raised in the human world, can pass as human, and now prefer to remain amongst the humans. Finally -- although neither Shane nor Thorn are aware of this -- there is another scant handful of supernaturals who live in Boston because they've felt the 'pull' of Coblyn Street� but since no one knows of them, there isn't anyone to lead them onto Coblyn itself, or introduce them to the supernatural community.

Shane takes Thorn to meet three new (to the healer) supernaturals. One is a broad, short man with a long, bushy beard working in a machine shop. His name is Kris, and he seems surprised and pleased with the check-in. The second is a dreamy, green-haired young woman named Calliope, living near one of the Boston college campuses. She's dressed in paint-stained jeans and a peasant blouse when the two men arrive, and she hugs them both and thanks them profusely for checking in. The last is Felix -- a cantankerous man living in a basement apartment, who has a very pointed nose, a fringe of grey hair, and rheumy blue eyes. He seems irritated, but grudgingly thanks them for stopping by.

Thorn is glad to check in on the three supernaturals, explaining that he's a healer, and if they have any medical problems to please let him know? Kris grins, showing a couple of gold teeth, and insists he's healthy as a horse, but is glad to see friendly faces. He promises to come see Thorn at the infirmary soon. Calliope laughs a happy, musical laugh, her eyes apparently dancing between brown and green as she almost sings, "Oh, that's so sweet of you. I hope you come check again soon! It's good to see friendly faces!" Felix simply insists he's as tough as old wood, and he'll probably be there when the sun dies. Shane shakes his head and chuckles, "Kobolds..." When Thorn warmly thanks Shane for coming with him and performing introductions, the half-beansidhe grins at Thorn, "Thanks for inviting me. It was a really good idea."

At some point Cinnamon sends a polite note to the palace, to Chief Oisin Hollytrod, asking him if he's free to perhaps go with her to visit Niamh Killiansdaughter Hollytrod and see how she's recovering. At the same time, the little dragon sends notes to both Shane and Thorn, telling them of the incipient visit and asking if they'd like to come along? Oisin and Shane are both happy to go along to visit Niamh, as is Thorn. In fact, on the walk to the palace, the healer tells Cinnamon all about his visits with Calliope, Kris, and Felix. Cinnamon is nervous about meeting Niamh, so Thorn's friendly storytelling is a bit of a relief to her! She fascinatedly asks, "How cool -- so what is Kris? A dwarf, maybe? -and... Calliope? Oooh, do you think she'd like an introduction to Spicy? I think Spice is attending uni in Boston, after all...?"

Thorn grins ruefully, "I'm honestly not sure about any of them! And I admit I didn't ask -- it seemed a bit rude, maybe? Kris might have been dwarven, yes. I'm not sure about Calliope or Felix, though, I'm afraid. Hmm... there's a reason Calliope is living outside Coblyn. I think introducing her to Spice is contingent on what that reason is?"

Cinnamon looks inquiringly at Shane, "Do you know, Shaney?"

Shan smiles, "Felix is a kobold. Calliope is a muse -- a minor one -- but she'd likely enjoy Spice� and yes, Kris is a dwarf. It's why he works in the machine shop. He says that and welding are really as close to blacksmithing as it's easy to get nowadays."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "I can see that... though... did he maybe apprentice with Waylon for a bit too?" She puzzledly adds, "I wonder why Calliope lives off Coblyn, though? Or... hm. Were folks always visiting her or something? Or -- oh! Wait, wait, let me guess: does she get something in return from humans when she inspires them?"

Shane nods, "Kris likes working amongst humans, ever since he lived among them back in the northlands. He does sometimes work with Waylon, but Waylon likes working mostly alone." He thinks a moment, then adds, "Calliope is meant to be near humans -- it's what she does -- and yes, she harmlessly gets something beneficial from them, though I don't know precisely what. Felix is just a grumpy old ba... bat."

Cinnamon giggles at that! She brightens as she looks up, "Ah! Here we are -- and Oisin said to just ask for him, since he'd arranged the visit permissions with Caradog already." The little dragon smiles at the guards as she speaks with them, relating who the group members are, who they're visiting, and why they're present. As they wait, Cinnamon glances at Shane, "You were right, Shaney... Brynn is really kind and nice! Is he the goat-related person you were thinking of, back in Iceland when you mentioned, er... that you preferred to eat lamb?" She smiles at Thorn, "If Brynn's here with Niamh, you'll get to meet him too. He's really, truly kind!"

Thorn smiles, "I'm looking forward to it, then!"

Shane grins and nods, "That's him! Brynn's one of the kindest people I've ever met." When they arrive and mention Oisin, the guards see them in and show them to one of the small receiving rooms to wait for him.

Cinnamon giggles quietly as she adds to her friends, "I wasn't sure if it would be okay, but Diarmaid assured me it was... so I sent one of my tins of cookies to Caradog via him!" She laughs as she explains, "He said Caradog would be pleased but confused since he usually gets really impractical, dramatic presents!" In one of her usual mental super-leaps, the little dragon happily adds, "Plus, tomorrow we get to spend Christmas Day with Rebecca! Elias and I have cooked up a few tasty things to take along for Christmas brunch... and maybe she'd like some Christmas carols? Do either of you play an instrument?" She thinks a moment before slowly adding, "Didn't you... hmm, Shane? Did you tell me once that you play pennywhistle?" With equal curiosity she adds, "Also, Shaney, was there any fallout from the mercenary attack here on Coblyn? I know you, Iason, and Vanya are the trustees for those trust monies for the injured. How did the three or four interviews with the injured go?" The little dragon grins, "Or are they all done by now, and the rest of the monies were put into the account to repair Currier's Hall already?"

Shane smiles, "That's all done by now, and Currier's Hall repairs are almost done -- though there's still some money in the trust for future emergencies for the injured parties� and, yes, I play the pennywhistle." His lips twitch into a small grin.

Cinnamon brightens, "Cool! Want to bring it along tomorrow?"

Shane tips his head, "Bring what?"

Cinnamon blinks at Shane, pushing her glasses up, "The... pennywhistle? T-to Rebecca's?"

Shane sighs and literally facepalms, "I got confused in the conversation about the trusts. Yes, of course I'll bring it. I'll even try to brush up on a couple of carols for Rebecca." He grins.

As they're finishing up their conversation, Oisin arrives with Caradog. Cinnamon brightens, her voice excited, "Oh, yay!" -- just as the door opens. She wheels around and sees Oisin first, so her demeanor is still excited, "Oh, hi, Oisin! How are you? Thanks for inviting me to meet wi-" and then she spots Caradog, and blinks, "Oh! Caradog! I -- I'm so sorry, I d-didn't see you right away -- er, and, um, h-how are you too?" She looks chagrined a second later -- why does she always turn into such a blithering idiot around Caradog?!

The king looks mildly amused, but he's not sneering as he courteously replies, "I'm doing well, Cinnamon. Also, ah, thank you for the cookies, which Diarmaid assures me you made yourself. I haven't received such an unpretentious gift in decades. It was lovely."

Cinnamon blinks again... then looks intrigued, "Truly? All your gifts are almost always pretentious?" She thinks about that for a moment... then smiles ruefully, "I'm so sorry! -and I did make them, yes -- I like giving tasty foods for gifts during holidays. I hope you found the cookies tasty too?"

Oisin looks at Caradog with a brow raised, his voice very dry, "Shall I take that to mean that the set of daggers was not appreciated?"

Caradog mirrors the Elder's expression as he replies, "Oisin, I know you're joking with me. The daggers are gorgeous, but you and I both know they were a status symbol."

Oisin chuckles and nods, "Indeed."

Cinnamon resists the sudden, ridiculous urge to add, 'Plus you can't eat daggers!' She blinks at herself -- where did that smart-mouthed thought come from?! So instead she simply asks, "Will, um... w-will you be coming with us, Caradog, to visit Niamh?" Curiously she adds, "How's she doing? Is Brynn helping?" To herself, however, Cinnamon makes a mental note: ask Shane -- or maybe Jaeger? -- later if giving practical gifts that aren't status symbols is okay with royalty!

Caradog shakes his head, "No. I was simply with Oisin when you all arrived and thought I would walk with him to meet you all. Niamh is doing well, by the way; Brynn seems to be doing her some good."

"Oh, good!" Cinnamon looks pleased for a moment... then takes a deep breath, "Okay then!" She smiles a bit trepidatiously up at Oisin, adding, "I'm just gonna hope she's not mad at me. So... shall we?" She pauses at a sudden thought, glancing up at Caradog as she asks, "Are you... interested in, like, learning things? Like... magical traditions, or migratory routes of your people?" She thinks a moment, then smiles wryly, "Or did you just live it all, and already know all that?"

Caradog smiles slightly, "I'm... a bit older than I look, but I didn't migrate here with the first Oak trod. I traveled on a wooden ship, but Boston had been well-established when I did. Why do you ask?"

Cinnamon grins at Thorn as she replies to Caradog, "Oh! Well, while I was in Europe, at the French Oak trod there, I asked Solange if she had any really old books -- I wanted to get the information as a thank you gift for a good friend!" Thorn smiles to Cinnamon and nods to her in agreement as she grins at him -- and then she smiles up at Caradog, "So she did, and I translated them and gave the translations to my friend. But it occurred to me: it was another Oak trod, so maybe it'd interest you too?" She adds thoughtfully, "Though... I bet you don't have any laptops here, do you... well, I could print it out instead, if you wanted?" She curiously adds, "Do you speak French?"

Caradog smiles quietly, "French, Latin, Breton, German, Greek, Spanish, and Portuguese, actually. Once upon a time French was the language of diplomacy and civilization. Also, I would quite like that information. Solange is a dear, isn't she?"

Cinnamon grins, "She was very kind to me, despite my being tired, hungry, and a bit, um..." she blushes slightly, "er... impetuous? Ah, anyways! Sure -- I'm happy to share it! Um, thumbdrive or printout, please?"

Caradog murmurs drily, "She is... quite patient when she needs to be. Oak sidhe can be very stubborn, after all. We are like our tree."

Oisin mms amusedly, "Indeed you are," -- which makes Caradog chuckle, before he nods and sees himself out. At that point Oisin turns to Cinnamon, "Thank you for coming. Are we ready?"

Cinnamon blinks as the door closes behind Caradog... then tilts her head bemusedly at Shane, murmuring, "Is... asking about modern tech rude or something?" She smiles and nods to Oisin, though her expression is still thoughtful... and a few seconds later she quietly adds, "Better do the printout then, I think... just in case."

Thorn mmms, murmuring, "Yes, just in case. Though I don't think he was offended... I think he misunderstood the question."

Cinnamon grins wryly to Thorn as she rises to follow Oisin, "Hope so!" To the tall sidhe chief, she adds, "Do you know the way, sir, or do we need a guard to take us there?"

Oisin nods, "I know the way, but..." he waves toward the door, "Diarmaid has volunteered to be our escort. I get the feeling he has some friendly feelings toward this group."

Shane smiles, "Mmm... and you trust your feelings quite a lot."

The older beansidhe inclines his head, "I do. Please, let us go." The passageways to where Niamh is staying are frankly rather labyrinthine! While Coblyn itself takes up far more space than it should, the palace would feel like an Escher painting, were the visible dimensions actually off kilter. Since they aren't obviously so, the little group just feel like they keep going for far longer than should be possible. However, eventually they reach a door, at which Diarmaid politely knocks.

Cinnamon looks intrigued as she walks, "Oh! Feelings... is that like a knack or something?" She beams and waves when Diarmaid turns up, thanking him again for taking her tin of cookies to Caradog!

Diarmaid chuckles, that deep voice of his making it sound like a rumble, "He was quite pleased with them. I think he's keeping them stashed somewhere."

Oisin smiles at Cinnamon's question, though it's more subdued than the broad, dazzling grin she saw previously, "Some would consider that prying. I don't think it's a full-blown knack. I honestly think I'm simply observant." Cinnamon beams at Diarmaid's words -- though she then blushes hotly and stutters several apologies to Oisin... then falls silent. She's mentally berating herself for being so thoughtless!

What's considered a cell here would be considered almost luxurious by human standards. The room is ten feet square, clean and airy, and has a bunk, a table, and a stool... though all the furniture is bolted down. The bedding is simple, but not ragged, and the floor is covered with rush mats. There's also a mirror of some sort, and a washstand built into the stone of the wall. Cinnamon lags slightly behind her friends as they walk up. She knows intellectually that Niamh likely won't hate her on sight... but there's a small, insecure part of the little dragon that is absolutely sure the poor woman will despise Cinnamon for having, er... ended her brother and... and sort of 'outing' her father!

Inside the cell, Niamh sits on the bunk in a half-lotus. Her face is very serious as she speaks quietly with a familiar figure who mirrors the way she's sitting -- except he's on one of the rush mats on the floor. Though Brynn no longer wears the motley, the large and almost ridiculous glasses are still in evidence -- as are his long, floppy ears. Nevertheless, Brynn's gentle smile seems to warm the entire room.

Diarmaid waits for a pause in their conversation, then lightly taps a hoof-like nail on the wall. The two people within glance over towards the door, and Brynn pushes to his feet with an agility that seems... well, goatish -- and his smile broadens, "Hello!"

Cinnamon is quietly relieved to see Brynn there -- she knows she can trust him to tell her if she's being a... a goober or something, at poor Niamh! The little dragon peeks around from behind Shane and Oisin, waving shyly at the spiritual psychologist before nervously studying the beautiful sidhe woman. She gulps as attention turns their way, though, just barely keeping herself from ducking back behind the larger men! She takes a deep breath, then whispers nervously, "H-hello...?" Thorn remains fairly quiet as they enter. He doesn't want to say anything that might get Niamh upset or angry. He's glad Brynn is there, though; he's heard of the 'spiritual psychologist' and can tell the man's quite good at his job!

Brynn steps forward and folds one of Cinnamon's hands into his, "Hello! It's so nice to see you again. You look so much more peaceful today."

Cinnamon blinks nervously up at Brynn... but then smiles shyly in spite of herself. Her voice is soft, "Th-thanks to you..." Then she remembers her manners, and adds quietly, "Brynn... d-do you know Chief Oisin of Brooklyn Hollytrod? Oisin, this is Brynn, the spiritual psychologist on Coblyn."

Oisin shakes his head, "I don't believe we've met."

The Holly chief tips his head slightly as Brynn takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze in both of his, "It is my pleasure, Oisin. I think we've been in the same room a time or two, but we've never had reason to speak." Then he moves on to greeting the others. Those that he's met, he seems to have something personal but brief to say. For example, to Thorn he says, "And you're Thorn, I think. Iason has mentioned how much help you've been." In the cell, Niamh looks calm... serene, even. Her expression isn't precisely sad, but she does look as if she's been doing a lot of deep thinking.

Thorn smiles quietly to Brynn, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad to be of help."

Cinnamon waits until Brynn and Oisin have finished speaking before she nervously whispers, "H-how... is she?"

Brynn glances over his shoulder, then replies, "I don't speak in details because that would be unethical, but she seems calm. I believe having visitors will be good for her soul."

Cinnamon swallows hard, then whispers, "E-even... even me?" She winces at the squeak in her voice on that last word, flushing with embarrassment!

Brynn rests his hands on Cinnamon's shoulders and looks into her eyes, his strange, oblong pupils showing a hint of purple in the center, "Yes. Even you. You should ask her."

Cinnamon's eyes widen nervously, "A-ask... ask her what?!" She mentally crosses her fingers that Brynn won't tell her to ask Niamh if the sidhe woman knows who the little dragon is, and what she did to Niamh's family! The little dragon doesn't think she has the chutzpah to even get the words out.

Brynn's voice is gentle, "Ask her what she remembers. Ask her for forgiveness if you need it. But only if you feel you need to."

Cinnamon blinks a few times, staring almost blankly at Brynn... then takes a deep, gasping breath. "A-all... all right." She firmly pushes up her glasses and glances within the cell at Niamh. She doesn't realize it, but her free hand is closed on Brynn's wrist, next to where his hand rests on her shoulder... as if he's helping her keep her balance and not fall over. Brynn doesn't even flinch at the grip on his wrist. Perhaps he's used to such things. The little dragon's voice is a bit hoarse as she says to the woman in the cell, "H-helloo... I, uh, I -- I'm..." Um, maybe not introduce herself just yet! She hastily modifies, "I -- w-wanted to ask you... uhm... w-what you remember?"

Niamh looks up and blinks slowly, with a tired half-smile, "I remember my father telling me stories about kings and queens of the fae, and about how I would have been a princess then."

Cinnamon blinks puzzledly at that, thinking hard. Considering Niamh's age, this means Killian's madness started a very, very long time ago! Plus... surely Niamh remembers more than that? The little dragon uncertainly asks, "That... is that the most recent memory you have?" Thorn mentally frowns. He hadn't realized Niamh's... 'fall' had been so comprehensive. What does she remember of what happened? How did she lose all her memory? And... what is the ethical way forward?

Niamh shakes her head, "No. Not the most recent. But it's where it started." She tips her head and looks at all the new visitors, "Some of you are familiar."

Cinnamon looks back wide-eyed -- she is so totally out of her depth here! She tries to be at least a little polite, though, "Oh, umm... right. This is Chief Oisin Hollytrod of Brooklyn."

Oisin gives Niamh a small bow and takes the young woman's hand, pressing his forehead against it, murmuring, "Peace. I knew your father. He was once, in his youth, a friend."

Niamh blinks at Oisin's greeting... then looks around and waves the others in, "Please. Come. Make yourselves... uhm... well, somewhat more comfortable."

Cinnamon sighs softly in relief -- Oisin knows what to say! She realizes she's gripping Brynn's wrist, and hastily releases with a whispered apology... then goes back to watching Niamh and Oisin. Her thoughts are churning: should she ask for forgiveness? Does she need to ask for it? She frowns thoughtfully, reviewing her memories... she'd truly thought Darragh was trying to knife Shane. She'd flame anyone in a heartbeat, if they were trying to hurt or kill Shane! That thought is swift and instant and sure... hm. Well, what about the father, Killian? Cinnamon shakes her head slowly... no, he needed to be stopped. She's sorry he went obviously mad, but... he was destroying his people -- even murdering some of them! He truly did need to be stopped. The little dragon nods reflexively to herself, then steps forward with everyone else. She'll find a spot where she can sit on the floor, with her back against a wall... she'll be out of the way there.

Thorn, were he asked, doesn't think Cinnamon needs to apologize for anything. He steps forward and to the side, sitting as well. Niamh looks around the room, eyes moving from face to face, "I know most of your faces. I've seen them, but the memories from the last... oh, year or so are a bit murky. I've been told that..." She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, "I've been told what happened during then. I think my father may have pushed me hard because I'd begun to question him."

Cinnamon murmurs thoughtfully, "You were... here in the Boston area during the last year, if I remember correctly. How did he push you?" That, she figures, will be important information for Brynn to help the woman heal. She's nervous enough that she doesn't think to look at Shane to see if Niamh is telling the truth.

Niamh blinks slowly, "Is it so?" Her gaze goes distant, and then she asks, "What... what year is it?" Cinnamon looks puzzled, but answers readily enough. She's a bit confused, though... what an odd reaction! Niamh blinks slowly and goes pale -- well, paler -- as she murmurs, "The last I clearly -- truly clearly -- remember was leaving Galway four years ago."

Thorn blinks. That's... a long time to be without memories! He's not at all sure how this could have happened. Cinnamon frowns confusedly... then belatedly glances at Shane for truth verification... or not. She wonders bemusedly: did Killian wipe his daughter's memories, or something? Was he... sort of puppeting her? But then... why is she still confused? After all, supposedly he's not still... doing whatever it is that he did, right? Plus neither of his knacks were for that kind of mind control -- just fear! ...mostly. Shane blinks slowly, frowning a little as he asks, "You said the last you clearly remember. So... you have... some memories?"

Niamh nods, "Sort of... sleepwalking. Until I got brought here -- and since, well... since what happened to my father. I've been told."

Cinnamon hesitantly asks, "Do you, um... have solid memories of the past, uhmm... month or so?" That, she figures, should be well after the end of Killian's reign.

Niamh nods, "Oh, yes. Since I've been here in the palace." Cinnamon nods slowly. That means Niamh should know Cinnamon's and Shane's faces... Thorn's too, she thinks? She wonders at how Niamh is reacting. Had Cinnamon lost her memories, she'd be avidly asking everyone for what happened! Niamh admits, "Well, some clear ones. I know Shane's face." She nods toward him, then looks at Cinnamon and Thorn, "I know your faces, but your names are swimmy."

Cinnamon smiles wryly; a bit sadly, "You had a stack of photos of me, along with several other councilors and other associated friends, in your room at Holly. I think we were supposed to be... disposed of." She adds quietly, "I'm Cinnamon. That's Thorn. He's a healer." Thorn has sworn the Hippocratic Oath. But he's glad he doesn't have to test it with Killian walking free in the world! Instead, if Killian (and Thorn) are lucky, Killian will stay for the rest of his life in prison. The healer nods as Cinnamon introduces (re-introduces?) him to Niamh.

Niamh nods slowly and closes her eyes, breathing in and out, "Memory is not my father's knack. Fear is his. But there are charms and spells... Darragh... Darragh can... could... work somewhat on the mind, but not strongly. It wasn't well known."

Cinnamon nods as she murmurs, "We know. We caught his agent in Rowan... when the guy tried to kill me. He unwittingly pointed us at Darragh as the source of his, um... confusion."

Niamh rubs her palms over her eyes, "I am so sorry. So, so sorry."

Cinnamon tilts her head puzzledly, "So... was there a charm or something on you, that worked even while you were a continent, and years, away? -and if it's not too much -- I don't want to make things worse! -- what were you questioning your father on?"

Niamh shakes her head, "It's possible. You can layer charms, and they'll fade once you're... gone." She sighs, adding, "On... well... his... territorial aspirations."

Cinnamon blinks, "That's it?" She tries to remember... Killian wanted to be king of the entire supernatural UK and Ireland, sure... but was there anything else he wished to rule? Hm... not that she knows of -- he wanted a spot on the international council, not more territory.

Niamh looks at Cinnamon, "By which I mean, I disagreed with how he was trying to take over Rowan. I have... probably had, now... friends there. But with tyrants, small rebellions are large problems."

Cinnamon frowns slowly, confused once more. Niamh seems to be really unclear on what her father actually wanted... well, really, more unclear on anything about her father and his machinations. The little dragon glances again at Shane, wondering if he's gotten a headache yet, or Niamh's vagueness is so mentally absent that it's not affecting him. To Niamh, Cinnamon just nods once, politely. She's not really sure how to talk to someone quite so... lost to either the past or the present. The little dragon just hopes Brynn is right... and Niamh is actually getting better. So she looks instead to Oisin and murmurs, "Is there... anything you can do to help her?"

Oisin crouches in front of Niamh and rests his fingertips on her temples, seeming to massage them as he murmurs, "Things are a bit muddled, eh, lass?"

Niamh nods and blinks slowly at Oisin -- and Shane takes a half-step forward, "Oisin, her knack..."

Oisin nods, "Aye, I know: she can take energy. I'm actually counting on it, lad."

Shane takes a deep breath and nods... then looks at Cinnamon, murmuring, "I can't get a good read. One second I'm getting a throb of untruth, and the next, not. I don't think she's purposely lying. I just don't think she knows she's lying..." Cinnamon nods worriedly at Shane, then glances back at the current chieftain and the now-mad-chieftain's daughter. She really hopes Oisin can help this poor woman! Niamh didn't seem to be a terrible person when she was younger, at least according to her former lover... and frankly, even if she was a spoiled brat like Candi, Cinnamon wouldn't wish this level of mental damage on anyone!

Niamh continues looking into the older beansidhe's eyes as he rubs her temples. Oisin asks, "Tell me, a ghra, do you have any tattoos? Or any brands? Complicated-looking scars?"

Niamh seems confused, "What? What sane sidhe goes into a tattoo parlor?"

Shane looks at Cinnamon and Thorn, asking quietly, "Any idea why he'd ask that?" He himself looks a little uncertain.

Cinnamon remembers some of the urban fantasies she's read, and replies, "Magic impressed onto her body by ritually damaging or marking it?"

Shane blinks, "I... should have thought of that."

Cinnamon tilts her head curiously, "You should? How come? Is that common here?" In the story she'd read, it had been a bad thing in one case... and in the other, it had been self-inflicted, so the magician had access to several tattoo-based spells. She hadn't thought of it until just now, though... especially since, as Niamh mentioned, it'd be dangerously painful for the sidhe recipient! She doesn't know why Shane should have necessarily thought of it either, as a result.

Oisin nods and replies to the woman, "True, true. But what about other marks?"

Brynn looks curious, his brows going up; Niamh looks as if she's thinking hard, "I have a scar... here..." She reaches up and rubs the back of her head an inch or so above the nape of her neck, where her hair would hide it. "I had a bad fall when I was young. But my hair grew back... I think..."

She looks doubtful for a moment -- and Shane winces, "Ouch. Nope. I was listening hard that time."

Cinnamon sighs softly, her voice soft, "Poor girl." She's almost afraid to find out what mad Killian has done to his daughter... even though she knows it has to be uncovered for Niamh to eventually heal. She glances hopefully at the healer, "Can you check it, Thorny?"

Thorn nods, "Yes... yes, please -- let me check it?" He moves towards the woman, "May I.... may I have a look at it, Niamh?" Oisin nods and steps back so Thorn can step forward, and Niamh nods and turns, lifting her hair and shifting enough that Thorn can reach the back of her head. When he looks, Thorn can see there's a patch of Niamh's hair that's not as even as the rest. The healer frowns at that; it's a curious detail, but it does tell him someone cut hair there. He has a closer look, trying to visualize the area around the spot with his magical vision -- there doesn't seem to be a scar, but there's something there. He keeps his emotions in check, though, since he doesn't yet know what her father had done to her... if anything. Then he frowns, squinting and leaning in closer. No, there is a scar -- that's why the hair is growing in unevenly! He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and visualizing the area in his mind's eye, gently reaching out with his senses to see what the scar is hiding.

Beneath the scar Thorn can sense something imbedded... something that seems inorganic -- probably metal of some kind. In a human patient it might be a small metal plate meant to cover where a piece of bone was removed during trepanation to remove pressure. But there doesn't seem to be any old bone damage here. Thorn frowns deeper as he straightens, his brow furrowed, "There's...." He bites his lip, looking to the others as he unconsciously rubs the back of his neck, "You said that there was a... a bad fall?" Cinnamon waits silently for Thorn to admit what he found, and the healer lets out a breath as he looks to the others. "There's... something beneath her skin," he says. "Something inorganic." He doesn't want to describe it more than that, at least in front of Niamh; 'trepanation' is unsettling enough.

Cinnamon is blunt, due to confusion, "Okay. Can you remove it? If she didn't give permission for it to be there, then maybe the sooner it's out, the better?"

Thorn winces, "I'll try. No, actually -- I will." He looks to Niamh, "Do I have permission from you to remove it? It'll be as painless as I can make it."

Niamh's eyes widen, "There's... something under m-my skin? Yes! Yes, please take it out!" She's shaking a little.

Thorn places a hand on her shoulder, trying to visualize calming thoughts for her. "It's okay. I'll take it out. You'll be fine," he says soothingly. His plan is to anesthetize the area, then try to have the body itself 'push' the foreign object out by parting the skin. It may be a little bloody, but hopefully not too much.

Niamh takes deep breaths and slowly calms, nodding. Oisin too nods, "Is it all right if we step outside a moment?"

Cinnamon blinks at Oisin, "Who? You and Niamh, or us?"

Oisin motions around at Cinnamon, Thorn, Shane, and Brynn, "Us." Thorn nods to Oisin, and steps outside, giving an encouraging smile to Niamh. The Holly chieftain smiles his solemn smile at Niamh, though not the full-wattage one Cinnamon saw just a flash of, "We'll be back, a ghra." Diarmaid nods stolidly once -- he'll stay on guard here.

Once the little group has all stepped outside the cell, Oisin motions them far enough down the passageway that even sharp sidhe hearing will miss a quiet voice, "You were asking her about charms fading... and I realized one way it might take longer than normal to fade." The Chieftain pushes his sleeve up to expose a small, simple, black tattoo on his inner forearm, "Mine was done with a bone needle and ink made of soot. It hasn't many uses left, and the person who created it is long dead, but it still works."

Cinnamon looks puzzledly at the tattoo, absentmindedly reaching out with a finger to trace it -- if Oisin doesn't pull away, of course. "Huh, this is just like that story I read, except you had someone do it for you... does it allow you to do magic too?"

Oisin smiles and lets Cinnamon touch it. It really does just feel like carbon if she tries to sense anything like metal from it, "It allows me to invoke a very simple, very small cantrip. But only a limited number of times." Shane ahhs. He, after all, gave Veles something similar to wear. Oisin continues, "I suspect someone put something like it in Niamh... perhaps on a small amulet." He winces as he adds, "I'd hoped they'd tattooed it, or put the symbol in the shape of a scar."

Thorn's brow furrows again. "No, there's something definitely there," he murmurs. "I think I can remove it quickly and without any pain for her. I have alcohol wipes in my medical kit, and if I can prevail upon Shane for one of his smallest blades then I can make an incision, urge the body to, uh, eject the foreign object, then heal the cut."

Cinnamon glances between Oisin and Thorn, repressing a small shudder -- she doesn't like blood! But this is for a really excellent cause, so... she says confidently to Oisin, "Thorny's the best -- he'll get it done right!"

Thorn smiles, "I'll certainly do my best!"

Shane nods and removes a blade from... somewhere -- he was quick about it. It's a small knife made of black glass; the blade itself is perhaps three inches long, and leaf-shaped. "It's extremely sharp. Should be easy to disinfect."

Cinnamon ooohs softly at sight of the small blade, reflexively reaching out again -- she's a rather tactile person, though she doesn't consciously realize it! "Is that... obsidian?"

Thorn studies the blade carefully when Shane holds it up to him, "Oh, perfect! Non-metallic. Yes, this should disinfect well!" He digs through his kit, coming up with several alcohol wipes. He doesn't disinfect the blade yet, instead murmuring, "I should keep this hidden from Niamh, so as not to make her nervous..."

Shane pulls the blade back before Cinnamon can touch it -- it's not like she can hurt herself with it, but he's got the protector instinct. He's grinning rather, when he does so, too, "Yes, acushla, it's obsidian... and you shouldn't reach for a naked blade."

Cinnamon blinks at Shane, distracted by the liquid glitter of light along the blade... then blushes hotly and snatches her hand back, "Oh! Oh, I -- I'm so sorry, that -- I, uh, I d-didn't mean to be rude...?!"

Shane leans in to kiss the little dragon's cheek as he hands the small dagger, hilt first, to Thorn... and he murmurs to Cinnamon while he's still close to her, "I've got a larger one you can play with while he's doing that." In his next breath he straightens and produces a similar blade -- though this one is six inches long -- then offers it to her hilt-first.

Oisin arches an amused brow, having heard that whisper... but also choosing to politely ignore it. Instead he nods to Thorn, "That would be wisest. I can distract her while you work, if you'd like."

Thorn nods soberly to Oisin as the two men and Brynn head back towards the cell, "Ideally she won't feel a thing, but I may make a mistake." He looks around... but he's reasonably sure he won't hear any church bells this deep into Coblyn Street.

Cinnamon is still blushing hotly -- eeeee, Shane kissed her, he's so nicenicenice, Marc-er, that doodyhead guy can just -- just take a flying leap! She completely misses the innuendo, however, when she's presented with another truly beautiful obsidian blade, "Ooh, pretty!" She glances shyly at Shane, keeping her hands tucked in close to her body as she adds, "Are you... er, sure? It's really okay to, um, t-to... hold it or touch it?" She hastily adds, "I'd be very careful -- I w-won't break it, promise!"

Shane bites the tip of his tongue because he couldn't resist the first comment, knowing it would fly over his acushla's head! He's not going to tease her too much, though: "I promise it's perfectly okay to handle it, since I'm offering it to you. I know you'll be very gentle with it. It's very strong and sharp, but a bit fragile on the edge... so just don't drop it and all will be fine." A moment later he adds, "Plus since it's glass, the oils from your fingers won't damage the blade like they might do to a metal one, so you can actually explore the texture of it." Okay, so perhaps he wasn't completely done with the teasing he knows she'll miss!

Cinnamon nods excitedly, reaching out with excruciating care to cautiously take the suede-wrapped grip in her hand. She handles it very tentatively, including her gentle fingertip touch on the flat of the blade. Her eyes are wide with interest as she checks -- what does this feel like, to her metal-sensing ability? The blade seems to hold hints of feldspar, silica, and quartz; in other words: volcanic glass. But then Cinnamon blinks bemusedly up at Shane, pushing her glasses into place with her free hand, "Wait... damage the blade? I, um... I don't think I... er... secrete anything acidic? Just... j-just fire?"

Shane rubs his fingers together and smiles, "Everyone has oil in their fingers -- it's how cops pick up fingerprints -- and those oils are very slightly acidic. It's why you have to wear gloves to handle really old books." Cinnamon huhs in fascination, staring first at her finger, and then at the blade. After that she does pretty much what Shane suspected she'd do: she (carefully!) runs her fingers all over the knife, checking it out thoroughly. She even holds it up to the light, to get the obsidian to do that pretty liquid-light glimmering effect again! Part of her -- an unconscious part -- is quite happy to be distracted away from someone being cut open, after all... even though she knows intellectually it's perfectly safe and carefully done. Shane smiles as Cinnamon explores the blade, murmuring, "They're gorgeous blades. Sharp as sin and they get through most metal detectors, but I don't dare try to sneak them past the millimeter-waves at the TSA."

Cinnamon blinks interestedly up at Shane, "Who makes them? They're so pretty!"

Shane smiles, "Those were gifted to me by Quinn on my twenty-fifth birthday. He told me that they were a gift to him on his hundredth birthday, from Brannigan, but he didn't know who'd made them. So they're over a century old at least."

Cinnamon's eyes widen, and she breaths a soft, awed, "Oh, wow!" Without really registering the possible ramifications of such an action, she whispers interestedly, "Are you gonna give them to your firstborn too?" A heartbeat later she blinks -- oh, fudge! She doesn't want him to start thinking about having babies with some girl, darnit -- she wants him to stay being her friend! She nibbles her lower lip, suddenly feeling a bit guilty... is it really fair of her to try to keep Shane away from some woman he loves, though? She sighs softly, admitting to herself (with a touch of melancholy) that she really can't do that... she likes him too much to be mean to him like that!

Shane smiles quietly at Cinnamon as she asks that question, his eyes softening -- he has every intention of doing exactly that, in fact! But when he sees the worry wash over her face, he brushes a thumb over her temple, "Maybe. There's no guarantee I'd ever have children, acushla."

Cinnamon sighs and relaxes a bit -- that's a good point! She shouldn't borrow trouble. She carefully hands the weapon back to Shane, with a shy smile, "Thank you, Shaney, for letting me see it. Want to go see how Thorny's doing?" Shane takes the blade back and slips it back into whatever sheath it was in before he let her examine it. He slides an arm around Cinnamon's shoulder, walking with her to check in with Thorn, Niamh, Brynn, Diarmaid, and Oisin.

Earlier, back in the cell, Oisin sits with Niamh on her cot and offers to hold her hands, still smiling his solemn smile, "Thorn here is going to take care of that scar. We think it will help clear your mind." Thorn nods, also smiling (hopefully) calmly and encouragingly to Niamh. From what he has heard so far, there's some very, very bad magic in whatever has been implanted under Niamh's skin.

Niamh nods and takes a deep breath -- and Brynn steps forward to murmur, "Here. I'll hold your hair." The goatish man looks curious as well. Once behind Niamh, Thorn puts on a pair of nitrile gloves, and carefully does not touch the blade while he sanitizes it with the alcohol pad. He then wipes a different pad over Niamh's scar. Then comes the hard part -- he hasn't done the 'anesthetic' spell in some time, and he tries to be very careful in visualizing its effects on Niamh. Once he is as certain as he can be that the spell has its desired effect, he wastes no time in making a tiny incision just above the foreign object. Niamh's breathing is slow and even as Thorn works, and the spell seems to be effective, since she doesn't even flinch when he makes the incision with the small, wickedly sharp blade. There is (as is expected with the scalp) quite a bit of blood, but the object seems like it's going to be fairly easy to remove once the incision is made... since it doesn't appear to be fastened to the bone.

Thorn breathes a sigh of relief; he was worried it was possibly securely affixed, but that doesn't look to be the case. If he can see it, and can remove it with a pair of forceps, he'll do that; he'd rather the magic be used to help her body heal -- rather than exert itself in pushing the object out. But if it looks like he'll be digging around with the forceps too much, he'll gently urge her body to expel the object. Fortunately, the removal goes smoothly and, as Thorn sensed before, there's no hole in the cranium. This is no plate to hide an injury! Thorn lets out a breath and does not touch the thing with his bare skin. Once the wound is sealed, he wipes another alcohol pad over the site while holding the object in a pair of plastic tweezers. Then he neatly re-packs his kit, asking, "Are you all right, Niamh? It's done, and you should be fine!" His first priority is Niamh's comfort and well-being, after all, so he makes sure she's fine before he starts examining the... thing he removed from her.

Niamh blinks slowly, her shoulders relaxing as she says, "Yes. Yes, I am actually."

She shivers hard, all over -- then mutters something under her breath that makes Oisin smile wryly, "Why, yes; I do believe that was a widely-held opinion of him."

The wound closes cleanly and easily, and Thorn lets out a breath, relieved the procedure is successfully completed -- then looks at the object pincered between the arms of the tweezers. He can see it is gold-colored and perfectly circular, with something incised upon it. "And what are you?" he murmurs to it, while making a mental note to pack a jeweler's loupe in his medical kit, in the future.

When Cinnamon and Shane walk back into the cell, Niamh's mouth is pressed into a tight line. As well, Oisin is looking rather stoic. Cinnamon glances back and forth, worry crossing her expression... then she looks relieved at sight of Thorn staring at something in his forceps, "Oh, good -- you got it out! What is it?"

Thorn nods thoughtfully, "Yes... and removing it seems to have already had an effect." He holds up the plastic tweezers, holding out the item so they can all see it as he adds, "I've no idea what it does, though. Specifically, I mean." The little amulet is maybe an inch across.

Shane tips his head, brows furrowed, "I don't recognize the charm, but I'm not great with them." Niamh mutters something else in Irish; Cinnamon and Shane can hear her saying that if this is the work of her brother Darragh then she's glad he's gone, and he was an entitled little beast!

Cinnamon holds out her hand to try and identify any metals, palm towards the little object... then murmurs, "Well, it's... almost pure gold?" She glances towards Niamh with a rueful smile, then whispers the translation to Thorn.

Thorn hmms, "Gold? Almost imperishable, then." At the translation he blinks to Cinnamon and grimaces, nodding, "Thank you."

Oisin nods and frowns, "It conducts electricity and magic equally well, and the body doesn't reject it." He rubs his jaw with one hand, "It's one reason so many amulets are made of it."

Cinnamon turns to Diarmaid, and asks the pragmatic question, "So who in the palace here can identify magic, do you know?"

Diarmaid rumbles, "Do you want to have someone read the inscription, or try to decipher what they feel it's doing?"

Cinnamon glances inquiringly at Oisin and Niamh, "What do you guys want?"

Niamh isn't looking spaced out anymore -- instead she's looking rather furious! "I want to know what the inscription is, and... and..." She takes a deep breath, "If I'm... forgiven eventually, I would like to get home and perhaps make up for... for my father and my brother and... myself."

Cinnamon pauses, studying Niamh with a mix of sadness and pity for a moment -- she can understand why the woman might want to believe this was her brother's act, rather than an attack by her father! However... as Shane demonstrates, truth is the best if you really want to heal. The little dragon's voice is gentle as she murmurs, "You know, Niamh, that it was your father, not your brother, that did this... yes?"

Niamh nods, "I know my father was the one that was the leader in it all, but that... thing... that would have been Darragh. Or at least partially Darragh. He had some of his own implanted."

Cinnamon shakes her head slowly, "You said it happened when you were a child. From what I've been told, Darragh was at least a century younger than you." The little dragon knows childhood doesn't last for a century amongst the sidhe. She's standing next to a sidhe adult, after all, who's less than three decades old! She doesn't point out, however, that this means Killian experimented on his daughter! Things are already bad enough for the poor woman, as is. Instead Cinnamon turns back to Diarmaid, "The inscription, then, please?" She moves over to Thorn after Diarmaid nods sharply once, then heads down the hallway to send a message. To Thorn, the little dragon murmurs, "Can I see the inscription, please? I'm wondering if it's in a language I can read?"

Niamh goes pale -- and pale on a sidhe is... impressive. She breathes out a word... a name, really: "Declan..." and puts her hand on the back of her head.

Oisin's eyes go cold, "Child, Declan died twenty years agone. On a hunt."

Diarmaid is only gone a few moments before returning, "We'll have someone back before too long."

Cinnamon watches silently, curiously... and hopes all this will help Niamh get better. Well... this and Brynn will! The spiritual psychologist glances at Cinnamon, then moves to hold Niamh's hand, stroking the back of it and murmuring, "Was he someone special to you?"

Niamh nods jerkily, "I thought so. He was... always there."

Cinnamon studies the inscription for a few moments... but it isn't words, but rather symbols. It seems to sort of dance the edge of being legible. The little dragon nods once, "It's all symbols -- magical ones, I'm guessing? Not really legible to me, sorry!" She smiles apologetically at Thorn before leaning to whisper to Shane, "Where do sidhe hunt in Brooklyn, Shaney? Or... oh! Maybe he was still in Ireland?"

Oisin, having overhead, nods once, "Aye, he was still in Ireland. I got a message about it." He takes a deep breath, "I am starting to suspect it was not as accidental as we were all led to believe."

Cinnamon blinks puzzledly at Oisin, "You mean... he started questioning too, and got murdered as well?" She sighs, looking a bit crestfallen, "Poor people... all swept up in the dreams of madness. I feel kinda bad for them all."

Thorn nods quietly to Cinnamon, "All because of one person's ambition."

A few minutes later Lorcan, Diarmaid's second, arrives with a small, wizened woman wearing a simple black dress and bright orange Chucks. Shane gives a nod to Lorcan as Oisin sighs, "Perhaps? Or maybe it really was an accident. But if he's the origin of that... thing..."

Lorcan politely coughs, then says, "Everyone, this is Lucia. Lucia, this is..." and he goes down the list of everyone there.

Lucia greets everyone in a thick Italian accent, "I am told there ees a t'eeng for wheech I need to look at eet?"

Cinnamon smiles and waves shyly at the... is it strega for an old Italian lady-witch? The little dragon is... not 100% sure, so she doesn't say anything about that. Instead she just points at the little object Thorn is still holding, "It's a golden, um... charm? Can you translate what's written on it, please?" Thorn too nods to Lorcan and Lucia, smiling quietly as he shows the amulet to the old woman and explains where it was previously. Cinnamon sighs thoughtfully as she waits for the translation, musing to herself... she should probably let Jaeger know about this, once they're done here. He was one of the folks that helped, after all -- and it was Killian's poison that crippled him for several years!

Lucia takes the amulet and holds it close to her eyes, muttering to herself as she examines the symbols on it. She starts out looking curious -- but ends up utterly livid, "Someone put thees bullshit een someone's head?" The word 'bullshit' comes out 'boolsheet,' in her thick Italian accent. "Thees ees bad! Thees weell scramble de brain like eggs! Ees like... they program her and set her off! Eet ees meant to have a control on other end somewhere. Eef that ees broken, thees weell just make her fuzzy. Weell fuck weet' her memories -- make eet hard for her to t'eenk clear. Rob her of herself!"

Shane bites his tongue. It's a very serious moment... but Lucia has always reminded him of Granny Weatherwax. Cinnamon murmurs quietly, "It did." She glances up at Niamh, her gaze steady, "Welcome back." Niamh nods -- she's starting to look both furious, and like she's trying hard to hold back tears.

Thorn is still mildly nervous. He doesn't know what the effect this amulet would have, even when unembedded. He blinks at Lucia's... well, candor! -- in describing what the amulet does... but he also grimaces, muttering a curse in Killian's specific direction. [If he never sees the light of day by the time of the heat death of the universe], the healer thinks, [it'll be too soon!] "It can be destroyed safely, I hope?" He wonders if they can find the 'control' and destroy it as well... if they haven't already.

Lucia shakes her head, "You should melt thees fuckin' t'eeng. Break de spell completely! Make eet eento som'teeng pretty. Dees kinda bullshit jus'... dees de kinda t'eeng deserve de malochio!" In the same breath she adds, "Ees OK so long as eet don' touch skin."

Cinnamon holds out her hand for it, "Okay," -- then draws her hand back, "Wait -- can't touch skin. Okay, put it on the stone floor outside the cell, please?"

Lucia starts to hand it off, then blinks and shrugs as Cinnamon pulls back her hand. Thorn nods, taking the en-tweezered amulet from Lucia and setting it on the stone floor outside the cell. "At your pleasure, Cinnamon," he says, standing back.

Cinnamon moves outside the cell, nodding thanks to Thorn. She kneels next to the cursed amulet, then takes a breath... and then flames it into a small, molten puddle of gold. Then she sits back and sighs, "Give it a moment to cool... and then we can safely do whatever Niamh wants with it."

Lucia's reaction is an honest-to-gods cackle -- the kind you actually expect from a witch! She claps her hands, "Oh! You de dragon girl! Eccellente! Burn, baby, burn!" Shane can't help laughing at that! Brynn seems to be filing it all away quietly, while Niamh appears struck dumb. Oisin murmurs something in Irish that loosely translates to 'holy fuck!' -- though it sounds a bit more elegant in the Gaelic tongue.

Cinnamon giggles at Lucia! -- then blushes at Oisin's muttered comment. She climbs to her feet, adding to Niamh, "You can just deposit it with John at the Vault, if you want? That's what I did when I had something metal I had to melt, before." She's a bit embarrassed, but also... strangely pleased? 'The dragon girl' isn't a bad nickname, is it? She takes a deep breath, then asks Brynn, "Is there anything else you can think of that we can do to help, Brynn?" She doesn't want to outstay her welcome here... and it's possible Niamh is silent right now because she's starting to remember just who got her male relatives into so much trouble!

Brynn considers, then replies, "I think if you come back in a day or so she may have processed some of what's probably opening up in her mind just now." He glances at the little puddle of cooling gold.

Niamh's shoulders are shaking, her hands over her face. Cinnamon's face clouds over at sight of Niamh's clear distress! She starts to take a step forward -- but then remembers what Brynn said. Okay, then... he's likely better to try comforting the poor woman than she is; right. She takes another deep breath and nods firmly to Brynn... then turns to her friends, "Let's go, then... okay?" Thorn nods quietly, looking to Shane and Oisin and Cinnamon, then nodding to the exit. He'll follow them out.

Lucia pats Cinnamon on the shoulder, "S�, geeve her a day or two. Come weeth me. I weell feed you too much pasta and we weell get to know each other." She motions at Thorn and Shane, "You two as well. Shane, you have not come to see me in too long! I should box your ears!"

Shane grins, "Yes, Lucia."

The old woman looks Oisin up and down, then nods once, "You too, s�. I weell geeve you grappa and eet weell clear all thees..." she makes a nebulous motion with her hand, "smog." She moves with them all, out through the palace.

Cinnamon blinks startledly at the old woman... then giggles in spite of herself! She patters along next to Shane -- if he's on good terms with Lucia, then the strega is okay! She happily murmurs to her friend, "I like fresh pasta! You think maybe she'll let me help cook, too?"

As they're leaving, the little group encounters Jaeger and Marcus, who are apparently there for some sort of negotiation or administrative thing having to do with the trods. Upon seeing Jaeger, Oisin opens his arms and smiles. It's brighter than his normal smile, though still not the dazzling one, "Jaeger, my old friend! It's a joy to see you!" The Elm elder smiles and steps in to hug Oisin in return.

Shane stands behind Cinnamon and puts a hand on the little dragon's shoulder. If looks could kill, Marcus would be dead, resurrected, dead again, re-resurrected -- and dead yet again! The young elf is smart enough not to meet Shane's eyes directly, but every hair on the back of his neck is standing up. Cinnamon too is carefully avoiding looking -- at Marcus. Instead, she beams with shy happiness at the Elm elder, "Hi, Jaeger!" -- then whispers to Shane, "I gotta tell him about what we found!" When Oisin steps back, Cinnamon steps forward for a hug as well, still beaming.

The younger of the Elm elves grinds his teeth as everyone greets Jaeger with such warmth and affection! Marcus further does his damnedest not to feel like he just got punched in the chest when Cinnamon smiles at his father like that. Jaeger wraps Cinnamon in his arms and smiles down at her affectionately, "Hello, my dear."

Cinnamon hugs the Elm elder tightly! She's inordinately relieved he still seems to like her; that he doesn't blame her for what happened to Marcus. Once the hug is done she excitedly adds, "We have some sorta good news, Jaeger -- and Athala's gonna be really pleased too, I bet! Thorny found and removed a magical amulet from Niamh, and when Lucia there said it was a terrible thing, I melted it -- and Brynn seems to think Niamh will be back to her normal self in a couple more days!"

After he's done greeting Jaeger, and while Cinnamon is getting her hug from the Elm elder, Oisin turns to Marcus. His voice is coolly polite, "Marcus. I see you're healing fairly well."

Marcus replies just as formally to Oisin, "Yes, thank you; I am. Iason and Thorn were very professional." His fingers come up unconsciously, though, to touch the bridge of his nose. Thorn smiles, remaining quietly a bit behind the others as he glances between Shane and Marcus... though he inclines his head politely at being acknowledged.

Ar Cinnamon's comment, Lucia repeats, "Eet some verr' nasty boollsheet ees what I say! Whoever make dat deserve a punch right een de coglioni! Because I weell bet eet a man. Weemens? We do not do theengs like that. We are more practical!"

Shane doesn't speak Italian, but he has enough context from knowing Lucia to sort of piece together what she meant! He puts a hand over his face and chuckles. Sure enough, Cinnamon blinks at Lucia -- then squeaks in embarrassment as she realizes what the strega said! Blushing, she glances hastily back at Jaeger... and completely misses Marcus' reaction to her squeak, as she adds to the Elder, "So, um, so... y-yeah -- yay for Thorny! Tell Athala, p-please?"

Marcus flushes at the squeak -- that squeak he's heard and been charmed by in better, happier circumstances! He tries to stay calm despite the irritation that seems to be making every. Single. Inch! -of his skin itch. Everyone seems to be treating him like a recalcitrant child lately! ...and the conversation about Niamh is going on around him, with none of it addressed to him -- despite him being one of the global councilors! The elf's hands fist in anger, and he quickly pushes them into his pockets. This would be an extremely unwise place and time to lose his cool! His eyes are still black and his nose is still swollen, after all... and he has no illusions about Shane hesitating at all in re-breaking his nose.

Once she's pretty sure she's not still bright red, Cinnamon adds to Lucia, "Umm, y-yeah... we think it was her father, and a guy that was... well, either under his control, or an ally at that time? But... but the second guy is deceased now, Oisin said, and her father is... well, incarcerated, y-you know?" She smiles up at Jaeger again, adding, "We're going to have pasta with Lucia, and you're probably busy, so... thought you'd want to know, and we'll get out of your hair now?"

Oisin rumbles, "Declan. She seems to think it was Declan."

Jaeger looks pained at mention of that name, "That would be a tragedy." He takes a deep breath... but before he can say anything else, one of the palace pages comes to fetch the two Elm elves, and they depart.

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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