Goblin Town -- Logs

Vanya sits down with them without actually asking, but Josie's tugging on his hand would seem to be an invitation, "I mean that there are eyes and ears all along the street and with there being a new person with power in town, there will be whispers. And whispers spread like wildfire in a place where there are no television and no radio... or at least very little television and radio."

Cinnamon blinks interestedly, "Ooh, really? Who has TV and radio on the street, please?" Maybe, she thinks, she could get a better internet connection the same way radio is brought in?

Vanya mmms, "I think John may have a TV. He has a generator for some of the things in the bank... and I think perhaps I saw a television aerial." Hilde nods, "And Jarek keeps a radio. But it runs on batteries." Her eyes twinkle, "He uses it to listen to baseball games. I've learned some very good swear words, visiting with him while one was on."

Cinnamon giggles in spite of herself at that! She smiles at Vanya as she adds, "Thank you! I'll try talking to John, then, about a possible internet repeater."

Josie hands Vanya a muffin and says, "Vanya, do you know Thorn and Cinnamon?"

Thorn sits himself back in place, straightening himself. He shouldn't have been that startled, not with what he's seen so far. "So you're saying that Nasteexo wanted to be seen talking to Cinnamon?" he asks. He glances around. Hrm... where is Erin? He breaks off a bit of his muffin, looking for her; it might be best to reveal her presence to his new hopefully-friends-or-at-least-allies so they don't think he's been spying on them when Erin's presence is made known later on. He nods politely to Vanya, smiling, "Pleased to meet you."

Cinnamon nods, "Oh, yes! Vanya was maybe the very first person I ran into -- almost literally! -- when I arrived." She flushes slightly as she adds, "I, um... likely wasn't very... clear at the time..."

The bear looks at Cinnamon and smiles. You can see the crows feet even with the thick pelt. "It is fine! I am sorry if I scared you." The flutter of the ghostly magpie's wings is a hush and Erin lands on Thorn's shoulder to nip the tidbit from his fingers.

Cinnamon blinks puzzledly as she adds, "Though, umm... weren't you called Ivan then? That lady, I mean? In the stall then? She called you Ivan... I thought?"

Vanya mms and nods, eyeing the bird curiously, then looking at Cinnamon. "Da. Vanya is nickname for Ivan. Like Bill for William. Or Betsy for Elizabeth."

Josie nods and grins, "If it's who I think it is, she tends to call everyone by their full name if she knows it. I'm Josephine instead of Josie."

Cinnamon says, "Oh! Okay -- sorry! I get it now." She's turned slightly pink from embarrassment -- though she startles again at sight of the bird, "Oh! Thorn, there's a-" She cuts off as she realizes the human is feeding the bird -- which must mean he... knows it? Or at least isn't shooing a greedy wild bird away, "er... is that your bird?"

Thorn murmurs, "Or 'Peggy' for 'Margaret.'" He smiles to Cinnamon, "This is Erin. She's sort-of 'mine,' though sometimes I think she's just along for the ride. And the food." The magpie mantles and then settles, head tipped as she looks around the circle of people. The blue and white markings set her apart from other corvids, but the head shape is very raven-ish.

Cinnamon tilts her head confusedly, "'Sort-of'?" Then her expression clears, "Oh! Like... like cats own their humans?" Cinnamon studies the bird thoughtfully through her glasses for a few seconds... then grins and breaks off a little piece of her muffin and offers that to the bird. "Hello, uh, Erin? How do you do?" She wonders suddenly: could the bird be sapient?! After all, there's a wolf-woman and a bear-man sitting with her right now...?

Thorn's smile turns to a grin. "Exactly like that. Though Erin's a bit more polite than a cat!" Erin tips her head and examines Cinnamon carefully and then the food that's being offered. When she shifts, she blurs a little. Like the black parts are made of shadow. The beak, however, seems real enough as it plucks the offered tidbit from Cinnamon's fingers.

Cinnamon smiles, sitting back and feeling oddly pleased that her food gift was accepted. "Why's she look blurry like that? Where'd you find her?" She grins as she adds, "Why'd you name her Erin? Does it mean something?"

"She's a familiar," Thorn says. "I mean, there are lots of different types of familiars, I think. She's smart and has agency -- I have to ask her nicely to do things... and sometimes bribe her with food or shinies. Erin is the name she chose for herself."

Hilde smiles and nods, looking the magpie over as well, "They're very smart birds, you know. They recognize themselves in mirrors. That's rare amongst non-sapient animals."

Cinnamon nods slowly, musing over the information, "So... she's blurry because she's a familiar? Why's that?" Curiously she adds, "Can you look through her eyes?" She's read of magicians doing that with familiars -- now she gets to find out if it's actually true!

Both Vanya and Josie are looking quite intently at Erin. Shane says, "Hm... very Celtic name, Erin. As in it literally means Ireland..."

Hilde looks at Shane and says, "Do you collect names? I've rarely heard anyone say their name that you didn't know what it meant." Shane shrugs, "It's very telling what someone calls themself when almost everyone has an alias."

Thorn blinks. "You know... I actually don't know. I've never tried!" He looks to Erin. "Well, Pretty Lady? May I look through your eyes, and see what you see?" Erin makes a sound that's entirely too melodious to be a caw and then launches herself off Thorn's shoulder. Once she's about twenty feet up... there's a doubling in Thorn's vision. At first what Erin is seeing is ghostly and then they start to even out... which might be a little disconcerting with the two views so far apart... and then Erin's view begins to be the dominant one. Thorn blinks as if clearing his eyesight. "Whoa," he says, holding on to the ground. "I... guess that answers that question! I'm glad I'm not afraid of heights."

Cinnamon's eyes widen excitedly, "So it's true?! That's awesome! How cool!"

Erin swoops through a few acrobatic moves... possibly teasing her human... and then Thorn's sight reverts to his own, followed shortly by Erin landing on his shoulder again. She looks quite smug. As smug as a bird can, anyway. Thorn weaves a little from where he's sitting, looking a little bit green, then shakes his head clear when Erin is finished with him and alights on his shoulder. He looks wryly at Erin, "Myth confirmed. Thank you... I think."

Hilde wrinkles her nose, "Bet she gave you vertigo, didn't she? Corvids are tricksy birds. That's why Odin was supposed to have ravens." Cinnamon watches silently, her expression thoughtful. All the stories she's read talk about what excellent spies familiars make... and this is the first she's seen the bird... yet it must've been around all this time. Interesting. She should keep that sort of observation potential in mind whenever she's out and about.

Vanya mms and nods, "They are very tricksy. But so are rabbits and foxes and sidhe." He doesn't seem to feel like he needs to apologize for that last despite there being one half-sidhe and one elf in the party.

Shane snorts, "And coyotes..." As he says that, he looks meaningfully toward the gate -- and right at Sparrow, who grins, "Hey, we get a bad reputation, but we're a resourceful buncha critters."

Cinnamon blinks startledly, "Oh!" but then relaxes, "Oh, hi, Sparrow. Um," she glances at the remains of their picnic, then smiles at Vanya and Sparrow, "would you two like a drink?"

Sparrow holds up a metal water bottle that has a carabiner. It looks like it could be clipped to his belt loops, "Got my own." Vanya, however, accepts happily. Sparrow comes over and hunkers down between Shane and Hilde, voice quiet, "Heard Nasteexo came over... everythin' OK?"

Cinnamon nods to Sparrow, then pours a drink for Ivan, "Here you go!" She smiles at the Trickster, "He came to apologize for Killa's behavior, he said!"

Thorn says to Hilde, "A bit, yes. She likes teasing me sometimes."

Hilde grins and nods, "I can see that." Sparrow mms and nods, "Well, he was kinda bein' a dickhead, wa'n't he?" He grins widely at Cinnamon, "Not that ennybody's surprised at that. Fantastic reaction, though. Look on his face? Thought I was gonna piss myself laughin'." He takes a swig from his water bottle.

Cinnamon blushes hotly, "Oh! I, uhm, I -- er, you know I didn't really want to hurt him, right?" She looks unhappily down at her cup as she adds more quietly, "I... I didn't mean to..." She falls silent, not sure what to say, and just keeps staring into her cup.

Josie snorts and says, "Trust you to laugh at someone getting flamb�ed." She doesn't seem offended. She seems, in fact, to be teasing Sparrow. Sparrow grins again, "Wa'n't like it was goan hurt 'im permanent-like. He's a jackass. Worse'n 'at, he's a jackass donno he's a jackass."

Shane reaches over and pats Cinnamon's knee, "Shhh, cariad. You were protecting yourself. He could have hurt you. Don't apologize for reacting naturally to a threat."

Cinnamon glances sideways to give Shane a small, uncertain smile, "Th-thank you..." She still feels a bit bad for hurting someone else like that -- it's very hard for her to truly internalize that someone actually wanted to hurt her, after all.

There's a general murmur of agreement at that. Even Sparrow is sympathetic, "Killa was tryin' to bully an' intimidate you. Which I guess he did. Thought you was jes' a li'l human girl or mebbe some kin'a spirit. He was tole yer Liam's kin. Shoulda knowed what was gonna happen." He looks intently from Cinnamon to Thorn, "Listen here. Listen good. Ninety percent of ever'body here's pretty decent, but most of us got somethin' deadly 'bout us. You git someone like Killa... he's gonna use that strength and the fact he's damn near immortal to intimidate. Does him good to get knocked down a couple notches. Remin's him that civilized doan mean weak. Get me?"

Thorn nods soberly at Sparrow's words. That fits with what he saw of Killa at Marcus's dinner. Cinnamon lifts her head to listen to Sparrow... then nods silently. She's familiar with that attitude -- she can't count how many bullies and airheads assumed her book-learned courtesy was weakness. Not that she was able to push back that much then... but she'd always been smart enough to get out of the way of thugs, regardless of whether they were physical or emotional. Admittedly, sometimes 'getting out of the way' had to consist of effectively tuning them out... but she has experienced enough petty nastiness in her life to understand it's not really about her, even when it hurts -- it's about their insecurities.

Sparrow nods around the circle at each person, "Vanya an' Josie... they both big an' scary. Got teeth an' claws. Think either of 'em'd hurt you jes cause they could?" Vanya takes this with aplomb, Josie looks upset that someone would think she'd hurt them on purpose! Sparrow continues around, "Shane there? Martial artist and swordsman... not t'mention half-beansidhe. Think he'd hurt you?" Next he grins at Hilde, "An' our lovely Hilde. Optimist. Sweetheart. Ljosalfar with a lineage goes back since way, way b'fore Christ's people came outta Jerusalem. An'..." Sparrow grins, "canny enough I dunno what else she can do exactly. Think she'd hurta ya? Either of ya? No. 'Cause none of us are pricks."

Cinnamon nods with more confidence at that -- she agrees! Hilde's voice is teasing, "Sparrow. Turns into a coyote. Or a raven. Probably a few other things. Think he'd hurt you on purpose?" That makes Sparrow snort, "Now, sugar, you know I only hurt folks as need to be taken down a notch. Bring it on 'emselves."

Cinnamon tilts her head curiously at Sparrow, "Have you hurt Killa before, then?"

Sparrow smiles, eyes twinkling. There's more than a little of the rogue about him, "Mmmm. Not s'far as he knows."

Cinnamon thinks about that for a moment, then nods slowly. "That... makes sense." She studies Sparrow thoughtfully as she adds, "Did you think Nasteexo was going to be... er, rude as well?"

Sparrow's brows go up, "Nasteexo? Nah. Nasteexo's almost always very polite. But Nasteexo also rides around in other people's heads." He taps his temple as he says, "Never heard it said Nasteexo took an unwillin' horse, but..." he shrugs, "some lwa can."

Cinnamon looks puzzled, "Why did you ask if everything was okay, then, when you arrived?"

Sparrow says, "Because there's always an exception to the rule."

Cinnamon nods at that... then sighs and relaxes a little. She somehow doubts anything too exciting is going to happen here and now, considering she's surrounded by... well, by a real group of powerhouse individuals! Thorn, in contrast, feels more safe here because he's near a dragon. He's revealed Erin to them, so hopefully that won't come back to bite him hard in the future -- or rather, considering Erin's sense of humor, it may bite him -- but literally, not figuratively. Sparrow stands and smiles, "Also wanted to invite the two newbies to my place day after tomorrow for supper." He winks at Josie and Hilde, "Can even bring chaperones if y' wanna."

Cinnamon smiles up at Sparrow from her seat, "Thank you, Sparrow!" She laughs as she adds, "Definitely a chaperone, I think... since they know where you live and I don't!"

Thorn blinks in surprise. "That'd be wonderful -- thank you, Sparrow!" He has a feeling that this will be a lot less persnickety of a dinner than Marcus's.

Sparrow grins and stretches all the way from his toes to his fingertips, "Also, I'd clear out if you don't want even more of the street comin' down on your heads to visit. It can get overwhelmin'."

Cinnamon nods slowly at that -- she's still not sure how she feels about being quite so visible. She's used to being able to simply vanish into the background, after all... but she's pretty positive in her guess that dragons can't really do that any more! Thorn glances around, frowning a little. The whole street? Or at least a large number of people wanting to see Cinnamon. Hmm. He's actually surprised that -- no, actually, he's certain that his presence with this group has already been reported to Marcus. Whether Marcus cares or not is almost besides the point.

Vanya pushes to his feet. It's an impressive sight. He smiles around at everyone, "I will be going. Shane, will you come with me? I have some things I wish to talk with you about." The half-beansidhe nods and then asks Josie and Cinnamon, "You two feel OK on your own?"

Cinnamon smiles warmly at Josie, then laughs as she says to Shane, "I'm with a giant fanged waggy wolf-girl -- what could go wrong?"

Shane says with a perfectly straight face, "You could take her into a china shop and end up buying half of it." Josie snorts and throws a balled-up muffin-wrapper at him, which fails signally to cause him any distress. He grins around, bids everyone goodbye and leaves. That leaves the two newcomers alone with their self-appointed chaperones-cum-tour-guides.

Cinnamon giggles and waves as Shane and Ivan depart. She's still smiling as she sighs quietly. It's been a rather... emotional couple of days so far! She glances over at Josie and Hilde, "So... what next?"

Thorn waves to both Vanya and Ivan as they depart. He's feeling relaxed, comfortable, at ease with things. He feels... almost at home. Speaking of, he'll have to ask Hilde how he goes about finding one... and a job! That sets off a mild twinge of anxiety. Hilde, as if sensing Thorn's thought, pats his leg again, "I'm off to help Thorn find a place. I want him out from under Marcus' eye." She smiles apologetically at him, "I know Athala's his relative and all, but something feels off about having you in his house." Maybe this is that thing she can do that Sparrow isn't sure of.

Thorn says a touch wryly, "I feel the same way. I'll feel better if I wasn't obligated to him for a roof over my head!"

Hilde nods, "So would I. And I think you'll be able to find a place easily enough. Jobs are a little nebulous here unless you're a craftsman. You've got some medical training?" Cinnamon smiles as she watches the two, wondering if Hilde's starting to feel protective of Thorn... kind of like an older sister, maybe? Or... is this the beginning of a stronger interest on Hilde's part? If so, Cinnamon is going to feel sorry for the elf -- because it's pretty clear (at least to Cinnamon) that Thorn is head over heels for that Athala person.

Thorn perks. "Yes, I do. I'm not a full doctor, but I do have medical training."

Hilde nods, "Good. That will be useful. The infirmary could probably use someone." She looks at Cinnamon and Josie, "You've already got a job. And I think a place to live. Shane and Josie have shown you some ways to ward it?"

Cinnamon nods, "Though I'm always interested in more warding stuff. I want to feel safe in my home, you know?" Thorn doesn't blame Cinnamon for that feeling, not one bit. He's curious as to what the Street's infirmary is like, what skills they need... and just what they need to take care of, considering the variety of patients they must have!

Hilde nods and sits up, arms crossed on her knees, "Salt across the openings. Smudging. Mistletoe..." She looks off into the distance, "Helm of Awe might be overdoing it a little... troll cross maybe..." She looks wryly at Thorn, "We'll get you one of those too."

Cinnamon nods as she fumbles in her bag for notebook and pen, "Mistletoe, don't have that yet..." She scribbles quickly, adding, "What do I do with it, please? What's a helm of awww? What's troll crossing?"

Josie is listening, too. Hilde says, "Hang it over the windows. Keeps out evil witches and elves. I swear I've thought of sneaking into Marcus' house and putting some over his bedroom windows and door." Her eyes twinkle a little, "Helm of Awe is a symbol that was used for protection... but it was also used to inspire awe and fear. A little overboard for simple protection. Troll cross is... you know those legends that vampires can't face crosses? Trolls actually can't face a troll cross. Other creatures have a hard time with it, too."

Cinnamon looks intrigued, "Really? Awesome, how do I get or make a troll cross, please?" Thorn listens carefully; this might be useful for him as well! Cinnamon keeps scribbling her notes, adding to Josie, "Do you know someplace we can get some mistletoe, Jo?" then adds to Hilde, "Does it have to be fresh?"

Hilde smiles, "I can make you a troll cross. The mistletoe is best if it's fresh when it's put up, but it's a seasonal thing. Check the vendors. Tag probably has some." Cinnamon nods, continuing to scribble notes. Hilde looks at Thorn, "Hans owed Athala a favour and she called it in to get you here. He is in no way at all a friendly person. Think of it this way: if someone doesn't trust Shane, you need to keep a weather eye out for them." Cinnamon nods wryly at that, still writing quickly -- that'd explain why she felt sort of... weirded out by the big troll-man!

Josie nods, "If someone doesn't trust Shane, it's likely because they themselves can't be trusted and they know Shane isn't easily fooled. Not with that thing he can do."

Thorn nods soberly. "I understand." He'd thought... well, no, best not to harbor unwise notions. He really should consider the fact that Hans does not get along well with polite society, much.

Hilde starts gathering up the detritus of the impromptu meal, "Even most of the people that find him irritating trust him. Though even those are suspect. There's a handful of people that are pretty sure Shane is playing some sort of sinister long game." Cinnamon hastily helps Hilde tidy up -- she doesn't want to be a mooch!

Hilde smiles, "OK. Ladies, I'll see you later I hope." She pats Thorn's shoulder again. It's definitely a protective sort of gesture. She often somehow comes off both very young and very old at the same time.

Cinnamon finishes tucking the last bits of picnic stuff away, then checks to make sure her own stuff is tidied up too. She smiles and waves at Hilde and Thorn as they depart... then grins at Josie, "So! Now what?"

Once the little picnic is cleaned up, Hilde takes the basket back to Uta's shop. The entire time, she's chatting cheerfully to Thorn... and subtly pointing out particular vendors she likes, and somehow managing to convey without actually saying it that those ones won't try to harm him or take advantage. She tends to either hold his hand or touch him on the arm or shoulder a lot. It's not obtrusive or invasive. If she gets even the least hint that he doesn't want to be touched, she stops.

Thorn doesn't mind at all, and he keeps careful track of whom Hilde points out to him. It's an education he knows he desperately needs if he's going to be living here.

The infirmary is a mile or so from the blind end of Coblyn Street. It's a low building with white walls. There's no red cross on it. There is, however, a Staff of Asclepius in crisp black lines over the door. Hilde grins across at Thorn, "You, my friend, are about to meet one of my favorite people on the street." The wide double doors are open onto an airy and welcoming area that seems too calming and comfortable to be a normal hospital or doctor's waiting room. There are a smattering of people that Thorn can tell have had some sort of minor injury. The sort of thing one would go to a walk-in clinic for out in the wider world. There are no major wounds here in this area. There are also no TVs showing irritating daytime television and no glass partitions. What there is is a broad desk behind which sits a slender young man who is making notes. On actual paper. With an actual pen. No computers. He raises his head and smiles, "Hilde. And a friend!" Dark eyes in a dark-complected face move from one of them to the other and his brows draw together in concern, "Neither of you is hurt?"

Hilde smiles and shakes her head, "No, Nikos. Neither of us is hurt. Or sick. Thorn is a friend. He just moved on the street and is looking for employment. And he's got some medical training."

Thorn is already comforted by the lack of televisions! But he is taken by surprise... actually, he shouldn't be surprised at all that there are no computers. He rather doubts that they take any health insurance here! He smiles to the man, feeling... at ease and comfortable in his presence. He nods, smiling. "Pleased to meet you," he says. He wonders if he'll ever get tired of saying that. More likely that other people will get tired of hearing it.

Nikos looks at Thorn assessingly and says, "Well... Iona did leave us recently. Family things. So there is a need..." He stands up and smiles again, "Iason is doing his rounds if you'd like to come with me?" Unlike in a modern medical office, he seems unconcerned leaving the desk unmanned.

Thorn nods, though he glances to Hilde to see if they both should follow Nikos.

Hilde takes Thorn's hand and follows after the willowy young man. Nikos' hair is clipped very close to his head, but there's a texture to it that says it would be curly. He opens a door onto a broad hallway with curtained cubicles lining it. Most of them are empty. And every one that's empty is very clean. There's a lot of natural light and the place smells of rosemary and something sharper. Witch hazel perhaps? There's no chemical smell. Thorn is even more put at ease by the lack of chemical smell. This is a place that takes very good care of the people, instead of just patching them up and throwing them out. If he were put any more at ease, he thinks, he'd be asleep!

Coming down the aisle toward them is another quite startling person. They've already met a werewolf, a bipedal bear, numerous elves, a troll, and a dragon. And this fellow may still be shocking. It becomes somewhat obvious why the aisles are wide, the ceilings high, and the cubicles roomy. They would have to be when most of your body is made up of horse. It's a centaur. The equine part of the body is sturdy and tall -- at least sixteen hands -- and the human body that comes from where a horse's head would be would fit a man of six feet in height. The equine part is black with white fetlocks and the human part is as dark skinned as Nikos with long dark hair held back at the nape of his neck in a ponytail -- and he has a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache. His human torso is draped in a toga. He smiles widely upon seeing the visitors, "Hilde! It has been too long!" His accent is quite obviously from somewhere around Greece.

Hilde grins, "Iason! I'd think that not seeing me in a while is good for a doctor." That makes both of them laugh a little and Iason looks at Thorn, "You have brought us a friend?" His head tips as he looks Thorn over. The look clearly says 'triage' without being alarming. Nikos smiles, "She says he's a medic."

Thorn blinks. Now he's seen everyth- no, best not to say that. Because he knows he's going to be proven wrong again and again. He nods to the centaur, smiling, though as Iason gets closer, Thorn realizes that the centaur is easily eight or nine feet high! That's... really tall! And a bit intimidating, to boot. He nods. "Ah... yes, I had some medical training in the National Guard...." He thinks that sounds rather lame coming out.

Iason, upon realizing that Thorn's getting a little wide-eyed, kneels down so that his face is more like 6' in the air. It puts him more at human height. He nods as he listens to Thorn, "That's actually good training for an infirmary. Good first aid and triage ability. Ability to know your own limits and usually a broad range of general medical knowledge. So, medic, not a doctor. Or do they call it a corpsman?"

Hilde is beaming. Thorn's ease here and Iason's assessment of his possible usefulness are hopeful signs. Thorn relaxes somewhat. "Just a medic. I think they call them 'corpsmen' in the Navy and Marines? I could be wrong about that."

Iason's smile widens, "And an ability to admit when you're not sure of something! Excellent! You're looking for a position?"

Thorn nods, smiling. "I am. I'm... very new to Coblyn Street but I'd very much like to live here. And part of doing that would be to contribute, to work here."

Iason, now that Thorn doesn't seem intimidated, rises to his feet again. Horse knees are knobbly and the floor is stone, "Well, we did have a medic leave recently. Pay is more along the lines of room and board with a small stipend. We also train medics for the other enclaves. Sometimes here, sometimes there." He looks Thorn over again, "Human? I ask because it's good to know if you've got sensitivities to anything. Like steel or salt."

Thorn shakes his head. "That sounds perfect, actually! And I'm just plain human. Um, a very little magic, small magic, really. And..." he guesses he should admit this up front. "I, um, 'belong' to Athala. But she's wanted me to stay here on Coblyn Street." He really hopes that doesn't bother Iason. It certainly has bothered others.

Iason mms thoughtfully at that, "So, you're in thrall to someone." He strokes his chin and says, "But she wants you here. As long as you don't disappear with no warning, I believe we can work with that. Would you be able to travel? As I said, we sometimes have to help train people for other enclaves. Or send a medic to an enclave that doesn't have one."

Thorn thinks for a moment. "I don't think that'll be a problem! Sure, I'd be able to travel!"

Iason nods, "Then it's settled. We have quarters on the street, but if they aren't acceptable, we can find other accommodation." Nikos pipes up, "They're really quite nice. What they call an efficiency, but nice and roomy. The empty one, the one Iona was in, looks over the herb garden. It smells like Elysium."

Thorn beams. "It sounds wonderful, actually!" He's not going to look a gift horse in the... maybe he should think of a different metaphor.

Iason nods, "My quarters are there, too. You can either eat in your own quarters or you can join the rest of us. There will be a stipend for things other than food and lodging. We'll set that up with Llewellyn." Hilde is grinning at Thorn's expression.

Nikos takes Hilde and Thorn in hand and gets the mage/medic some work clothes. He's given the choice of tunic and trousers or tunic and toga, which makes Hilde giggle. He also receives a note to be taken to Llewellyn to set up the stipend, which will be disbursed either directly to Thorn or to the bank. Hilde explains that a lot of vendors will set up an account to be paid at the end of each lunar cycle and can be left up to John at the bank to settle up. It sounds rather like automatic payments out in the normal world. Except, as Hilde assures him, there's not going to be overdraft fees and so forth. If he doesn't have the money to settle up at the end of the month, it'll either carry over or he'll just not be able to buy from that vendor until he settles up. Thorn thinks that letting it be disbursed to the bank will be simplest, especially if he's going to be living here. He'll keep some out in case he needs to travel suddenly.

Once that's settled, Hilde smiles, eyes twinkling, "Now we get to go tell Marcus that you're flying the nest!" This seems to make her happy. She's humming cheerfully as they move toward the ambassadorial residence, "We've got two options. Go in, get your things, and just leave. Or tell Marcus you're vacating."

Thorn nods, "Marcus knows that I'll be, ahem, 'blending in,' and that 'spying' on Liam's heir means I shouldn't be too closely associated with him. I think telling him is the way to go."

That makes Hilde laugh again and she nods. When they knock on the door, the silent butler sees them in. Apparently they've been awaited because he leads them out to the solarium where Marcus waits. He's almost casually dressed... if by casual one means he's not wearing his jacket. Marcus looks up, brows rising as he realizes Hilde is still with Thorn, "Did the pair of you have a good day? Find anything exciting to do?"

Now that he's here, Thorn isn't so certain this is a smart thing, especially since Marcus is apparently expecting them. Still, Hilde is with him. His instinct is to let Hilde take the lead as a ljosalfar, but at the same time he has to exhibit some semblance of agency. "Well," he says, deciding to burst right into it. "Since Athala has requested I stay in Coblyn street, we figured, based on our earlier discussion, that I should move into the community. Fortunately, Iason has an opening in the infirmary." He doesn't seriously think Marcus will miss him, but he hopes this doesn't make the sidhe look upon Thorn as an enemy of some kind.

Marcus' pale brows go up and he manages a decent surprised face. It's not perfect, however, "Iason, you say? Well, he certainly takes good care of the people that work for him. I had almost expected Athala to give you an allowance." He motions them to the other seats, "Please. Have a celebratory glass of wine." There are two bottles on the table. One is empty. The other is about 2/3 full.

The sight of the empty and only-mostly-full wine bottle ratchets up Thorn's caution. He doesn't know how well sidhe hold their alcohol -- he suspects it would take a lot to get one drunk -- but his experiences as a medic don't really give him confidence that Marcus is in a good frame of mind. He glances to Hilde to see her reaction as he steps forward. "Thank you, sir," he says.

Hilde arches a brow and settles down, taking a glass poured and offered by the butler. She stops him at a half-glass and looks sideways at Marcus as she does. Then her casual demeanor is back, "Iason's offered him quarters with the other infirmary folk." Marcus mmms, "Oh? Well, it will certainly give him more freedom, won't it?" He motions around the Solarium, somehow managing to convey the whole mansion, "It's a large house, but the walls do feel very thick at times, I suppose."

At this point the walls seem to be so thick they're crushing Thorn. He doesn't say anything for a bit too long, then says, "I am very grateful for you housing me during this time so that I may fulfil my duty to Athala, as I will continue to do so." Maybe that will mollify him? Marcus is taking this entirely too well, and it's ratcheting up Thorn's paranoia.

Marcus mms and sips his wine, which hides a lot of his expression. His face is neutral when he lowers the glass, "It has been my pleasure, Thorn." It's an entirely too neutral expression; too neutral a tone. The elf suddenly drains his glass and thumps it down onto the table, "I believe I shall retire for the evening. I'll have Ingrid bring you your things."

Thorn's inner dialogue is swearing a blue streak. He only swallows and says, "Thank you, sir."

Hilde watches Marcus leave -- back straight, stride still graceful despite a boatload of wine -- and both her pale brows rise, "Well, that was interesting. At least he wasn't yelling." It's mere minutes before Ingrid arrives with a garment bag and a small overnight bag... none of which arrived with Thorn.

Thorn sighs, nodding. It's not that he was hoping Marcus wouldn't take it gracefully. But what in the world got into the sidhe? He blinks at the garment bag and overnight bag, curious... but he accepts them from Ingrid, saying, "Thank you, Ingrid. You've been a very great help."

Ingrid smiles almost shyly and curtseys, speaking very softly, "It's been nice having you. It really has."

Thorn's smile warms, and he bows his head to her, "I'm glad. Be well, and good night." The human and the ljosalfar are shown to the door in a friendly fashion and Thorn takes his first steps into this new world as his own man... mostly.

Elsewhere in the house, Marcus is pacing his room. Stomping is beneath him -- as is yelling -- since both would be heard by the servants and possibly by Thorn and Hilde. There is absolutely no way he�s going to let them know how upset he is about this turn of events. He was already irritated that he might have given away some of his thoughts and emotions by his abrupt departure from the solarium. He is, however, seething. His teeth are gritted and his hands are clenched into fists as he moves back and forth across the length of the lavish suite of his personal chambers.

Athala had wanted her boy-toy to fit in, but Marcus had not expected it to be so easy. He'd expected some time with Thorn to... persuade him? Mold him? Get his claws in him? But the whispers along the street -- and the handful of spies Marcus kept on retainer -- had it that Thorn not only had his own mark -- making him as full a citizen as anyone else in this enclave -- but had also been seen in company with people that are decidedly on the wrong side of the revelation issue. Including the utterly unexpected, unrefined, unwanted scion of the old dragon.

In any case, the sidhe had to be gracious because Athala is his cousin. And... perhaps he can salvage it still.

Cinnamon smiles and waves at Hilde and Thorn as they depart... then grins at Josie, "So! Now what?" She thoughtfully adds, "Can you take me to this Tag's place for the mistletoe? Also a troll cross, maybe? Or should I wait for Hilde to make one?"

Josie stretches and smiles, "Wait for Hilde to make you one. I can take you to Tag's place. He's the apothecary. Mistletoe can be used in lots of different... what's the word he uses... preparations? Which might be why Hilde figured you could get some there."

Cinnamon studies her notes for a moment, frowning thoughtfully and absently chewing on a nail -- until she abruptly straightens up with a look of determination on her face, "You know what, Josie? I think I'm not going to wait for those guys who want to reveal to come meet me -- I'm going to go to them!" She looks pleased as she scrambles to her feet, "Who knows? They might have some really good reason to reveal... and if they do then I wanna know!" She scoops up the picnic basket, then beams up at Josie, "Is there like a Starbucks equivalent here on the street? That'd be sorta neutral ground to meet, don't you think? And if Elias can send out nice notes for folks to come meet with him, then surely I can send out nice notes of invitation too... don't you think?"

Josie takes the basket and looks thoughtful, "Uhm... no Starbucks. But there's Lily's Tea Room and Cafe Prague. There's a couple of pubs, too. One's Irish. One's English. And, yes, there's a difference... or at least they'll tell you there is. Little Indian restaurant..." She blinks at the comment about invitations, "Elias sent invites to the ones of us that he thought should know about you. But I guess it won't hurt to invite the other side to tea or coffee."

Cinnamon is almost skipping with enthusiasm -- she has a purpose! A plan! She feels energized and excited, very much like when she's handed a new and revoltingly snarled-up accounting problem. Yay! She laughs at that thought, then pushes her glasses back into place as she beams at Josie again, happily saying, "OK! So I need mistletoe and some nice stationary and... is there a mail service on Coblyn, or do I just slide the envelopes under their front door, or what?" She laughs again, her eyes shining, "Send it via owl, maybe? Though I'll want to meet them one at a time, I think... definitely!"

Josie giggles, "I read those books! No. You don't send it via owl. There's not much of a post system. There are people that work as couriers and some people have servants that they send to do their errands like that. Sian does something sorta post office-like at his place. He doesn't do deliveries, but some people are known to check in there for messages."

Cinnamon says, "Who's Sian?"

Josie is trying to moderate her usually happy, swift trot to accommodate her smaller friend, "He owns the Irish pub. Duille Darach. He's also got a few rooms to let, but more like an inn than apartments. And a lot of people pass through there at some point during the week."

Cinnamon says, "Oh, okay. Hmm..." She considers for a bit... then shakes her head decisively, "Nope, I wanna be sure the invites get there sooner than later! So let's see... maybe a courier? That can't be too expensive, can it?" She grins hopefully up at Josie, adding in an apparent non sequitur that makes perfect internal sense to her, "Is mistletoe in season now?" She adds consideringly, "Hmm... that'll be Marcus, Jalil, Qadan, Nasteexo -- though maybe not? He did stop to talk to me, after all -- who else... Aoi, and," she wrinkles up her nose for a moment in a disgusted grin, "Killa," then hastily pushes her falling glasses back into place. "Well... maybe we can at least not be active enemies?" Her voice is a bit dubious even though she's smiling.

They've reached a little shop with dark drapes on the windows and a solid door with no window. Painted in gold leaf in arching script across the window is "Tag O'Toole." Below that in similarly old-fashioned script is "Apothecary, Druggist, Herbalist." There are three words under that in different languages. It might remind Cinnamon of signs she's seen in a city where there's a bilingual population and they have translations into different languages. Cinnamon blinks up at the signage with an intrigued expression, "Ooh, cool! What languages are those, Josie? Do you know?"

Josie shrugs her broad shoulders, "I have no idea if mistletoe is in season. Uhm... well, that one is Gaelic, I'm pretty sure. And that's Futhark. Under that's... Japanese. I think. And that last one is Russian. I only know that 'cause I asked." She reaches for the heavy door and opens it. The room beyond is not small, but it might seem that way at first. There are shelves and cubby holes and counters holding vessels of various sorts. Glass jars, earthen jugs, metal boxes, wooden chests. The place smells of herbs and sharp spices. But it doesn't smell like a pharmacy or a doctor's office. There are bunches of herbs and other things hanging from the rafters. Josie looks down at Cinnamon, "Not Killa. Do not be alone with Killa." Her voice is more serious than Cinnamon may ever have heard it.

Cinnamon nods gravely to Josie, "That's why I want to meet at a nice little tea shop, Josie -- so there's other folks around every meeting." She glances around as she adds with pleasure, "What a neat place! It smells lovely!"

Josie grins and nods, "Sian does herbs and medicines and teas and... lots of things." Behind a long counter is a wall full of what looks almost like the drawers of an old-fashioned card catalogue like one might see in a library. There are dozens -- possibly hundreds -- of the drawers along with a few larger ones and a couple of little doors. Some of them are labeled, but others are not. There's no one obviously in the room. Josie tips her head up, scanning the rafters and then beams, pointing, "Mistletoe!"

Cinnamon wanders over to stare up at the mistletoe -- far too high for her to collect it, but still kind of exciting, considering it's going to help keep her cozy little home safe! She glances around, calling, "Mr. Tag? Hello?" She giggles at a sudden thought -- she should try talking to Marcus first. Maybe she can even persuade him to meet her outside of Coblyn Street! Might do him good to realize humans are real, instead of just... she remembers Athala, and frowns thoughtfully -- more than just amusing pets.

There's a rustling and when Cinnamon looks up, she sees that there's a second level to the shop... sort of. There's a narrow sort of gallery about ten feet up with a railing around it. On the gallery, pulling things out of drawers and muttering to himself, is a stout and compact... man? He's bipedal and has hands, but he's got a pair of triangular ears peeking from his shaggy white hair and a flicking tail that peeks from beneath an old-fashioned pharmacist's smock. When Cinnamon calls, he turns his head and peers down through a monocle. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't hear you come in!" He scampers -- scampering is the only way it can be described -- to a long, narrow ladder and descends, "Josie! I'm so sorry, dear!" Tag, up close, barely reaches five feet in height and has bright green, slit-pupiled eyes.

Cinnamon adjusts her glasses, then stares in bright-eyed interest at the man. This must be Tag! She smiles, "Hello! I'm Cinnamon -- it was actually me that called, though I came in with Josie. Could we have some mistletoe, please?"

Tag smiles and looks Cinnamon over curiously, "Oh, I know it was you. I know Josie's voice, but normally I notice her quite quickly." He blinks and peers at Cinnamon through the monocle, "Cinnamon... wait... you're the one that burned Killa?"

Cinnamon looks sheepish, "Er, I, ahh... didn't mean to?"

He's talking as he moves back to the gallery. For someone that looks stout, Tag moves with a surprising amount of grace -- especially when he leaps from the gallery across to one of the rafters to start untying some mistletoe. He keeps talking as he goes, "How much do you need? And what use are you putting it to?"

Cinnamon stares open-mouthed for a moment at that prodigious leap! It takes her a second to collect herself, "Uh! Oh, uhh... house protection, please? Er," she glances at Josie, "how much do we need, Josie? Do you know?"

Tag waves a hand dismissively, "He's fine, you know. His little houseman came and got some salves for the burns. And Iason says he should be fine in a few days." When Cinnamon says she wants it for house protection, he starts sorting through what he has, "Then as fresh as possible. How many doors and windows? Is there a fireplace?" Cinnamon looks relieved at that! For Tag's question she takes a moment to consider, then gives the correct number... and thanks him happily for his assistance!

Tag nods and ties the rest of the mistletoe back to the rafter and makes the leap back to the gallery. He doesn't seem to even look very carefully. It's as if he makes that jump all the time, just as someone who knows how high their front stoop is. He's back down the ladder and behind the counter, "Of course, of course! This is what I do!" He's carefully wrapping the mistletoe in brown paper and twine, "You should come back when winter sets in. That's really when it's freshest. I even have a source that harvests it correctly!" Josie is busy moving around the place and happily sniffing at things.

Cinnamon sets her bag on the counter as well so she can rummage through it for her money-equivalent here -- though at that she blinks, intrigued, "What makes the harvesting correct?" She pauses, then adds a bit diffidently, "Also, er... do you by any chance happen to have nice stationary? Or know who does?"

Tag smiles, one ear flick-flicking and says, "With a silver sickle. Full moon. All that. The new tradition is to use a shotgun. Which gets you the mistletoe, surely enough, but it can damage it quite badly. It can still be used for some purposes, but you wouldn't want to use that for warding!"

Cinnamon blinks startledly at the cat-like man, "A sh-shotgun?! That -- how, er... messy? ...loud?"

Tag chuckles, "It's found in oak trees. Quite high in them, normally. A shotgun will knock it down. Using the sickle means climbing the tree."

Cinnamon says, "Huh." She glances thoughtfully over her shoulder at the happily sniffing Josie, then turns back to Tag to curiously ask, "Is it not correct to ask tall friends to help, then?"

Tag blinks, "Well... I suppose a very tall person might be able to do it. But even someone Josie's size can only reach about ten or eleven feet up. And mistletoe is often higher than that." Cinnamon nods thoughtfully at that -- intriguing! It appears magic doesn't mind being dirty and messy with gunpowder and technology, then. Good to know! Tag finishes wrapping the mistletoe, "I don't have stationery. For that, you'll want the bookstore. They also sell stationery and other writing supplies. They do custom printing as well for calling cards and such."

Cinnamon brightens at that, "Thank you! How much do I owe you for the mistletoe, please?"

Tag gives her a price that seems quite low as Josie comes back over with a little muslin bag that smells of herbs and mint, "I'm almost out of this one." Tag nods at her and smiles, "I'll put it on your tab."

Cinnamon isn't sure what mistletoe should cost, so she pays promptly and without any demurral. She tucks the little package into her bag with a smile and thanks, then grins up at Josie, "Can we go to the bookstore next, please?"

Josie nods and tucks the little bag of tea away and actually leans in to nuzzle one of Tag's ears and give it an affectionate little lick, which gets a little snort from the small man who says his farewells before scampering back up the ladder. Josie nods, "We can. You can even see about maybe getting them to make you a seal."

Cinnamon's eyes widen with excitement at that, "I can do that?! How cool!" She laughs, almost skipping along next to Josie again -- it's easier to keep up with the long-legged werewolf that way, and she's in a fabulous mood as it is! She giggles, "Maybe I'll try Marcus first -- think he'd meet with me outside of Coblyn?" Josie is doing a fairly good job of not being obvious about keeping an eye out for hostiles, though very few people have seemed hostile toward her. They see a few passingly familiar faces, but no one Cinnamon remembers having any sort of deep conversation with. There's ten miles of Coblyn, after all.

The bookshop has large windows as well, but they are sparkling clean, and there are cheerful displays of books, stationery, and writing instruments in them. "Of course you can. I mean, you're living somewhere that people still seal their letters with wax."

Cinnamon grins shyly up at Josie, "Well, I mean, it's... er, like, I didn't want to be... like, all pretentious or anything, you know?"

Josie snorts and rolls her eyes, "You'd have a long way to go to get to pretentious. Even I have a little seal. I don't use it much, but sometimes we have to put seals on official documents." There's a little chiming bell that sounds when the door opens.

Cinnamon grins excitedly, "Well, then... maybe I will!" She looks around wide-eyed as she adds, "Maybe I could get my little sun mark on it!"

Josie nods, "That's what I meant. A stamp with your sigil on it!" There's a cheerful hello when the door opens. The bookstore smells like the very best of used bookstores. Paper and leather and a scent that might be ink. The person that called cheerfully to them is again quite short and plump. She's dressed in an old-fashioned sort of dress with a high, lacy collar that might make Cinnamon think of the Little House On the Prairie books from her youth. There's even an apron over it. The woman is apple-cheeked and has nearly white hair caught up in a neat bun. Josie grins and waves, "Astrid! I brought a friend! Astrid, this is Cinnamon. Cinnamon, this is Astrid." Josie really does seem, like Shane, to know everyone.

Cinnamon beams as she offers her right hand, pushing up her glasses with her left, "Hello, Astrid, it's a pleasure to meet you!" She can tell already: she's going to spend many happy hours in this lovely little bookstore!

Astrid is not a hand-shaker. She opens her arms and hugs Cinnamon warmly. After all, the girl is a friend of a friend! "It's lovely to meet you, too! I've heard the news about you and your council seat!" She clucks her tongue, "Poor Killa." The twinkle in her dark eyes belies her apparent concern, "What can I help the pair of you with?"

Cinnamon blinks, but hugs back -- she's starting to realize how nice real hugs are! Nothing like the artsy 'air hugs' her family prefers... much to her relief. She blushes at the comment about Killa, but replies, "I, ahh... right! Er, m-may I please have some nice, formal stationery, please?" She grins eagerly as she adds, "And Josie says maybe I could even get a wax stamp made for me here?"

Astrid leads the werewolf and the dragon over to a display of stationery and smiles, "Well, it's a metal stamp if you want one." There are stamps there with the stationery, but they're fairly generic ones with scrolling, elaborate letters which are obviously meant to be initials. All the paper looks to be quite rich and heavy and there are envelopes as well. There are also pens of various types -- none of which are plastic. There are quills and heavy fountain pens as well as delicate brushes and dip-pens. Inks are arrayed on a little shelf above the pens. Some of them are in bottles, but some look to be blocks of some dark substance.

Cinnamon ooooohs happily, browsing contentedly through the various items. She finally selects a lovely fountain pen that just feels good in her hand, and some shimmeringly rich purple-indigo ink... then picks beautiful creamy stationary with her initials in a swirling calligraphic font at the top of each page, and on the flap of the envelopes, as her order. She beams to Astrid and Josie as she brings the items over, "What do you think? Nice enough for formal notes? Also, how do I ask for a metal wax stamp, please?"

Astrid takes down the order for the personalized stationery, making sure Cinnamon has some that's similar but not personalized to use in the meantime, and dimples at Cinnamon, "You just ask. I'll have you draw out or explain what you want it to look like. Then Yusef will carve it and cast it for you. That will probably take a couple of days. In the meantime, you can perhaps buy one with your initial on it."

Cinnamon beams excitedly, "Awesome! OK, here's my sigil!" She sketches it out carefully... then studies it with some pride. This is hers! Not her parents', not something to be casually swiped and misused by her sister... hers. She feels a small glow of pleasure inside at that thought.

Astrid smiles and nods, "That's simple enough. I'm sure Yusef can have it done in a couple of days. There are some very elaborate sigils out there that he has to spend days just carving."

Cinnamon thanks Astrid excitedly, pays for her goods, and almost skips out the door with Josie again! She's nearly burbling with happiness, "Now I can write the notes and ask people to tea and see what's going on, right? Sweet!"

Josie giggles at Cinnamon's enthusiasm. It's much different than the nervous young woman that arrived so recently, "You can write whatever you want. But, yes, you can make invitations. Astrid and Yusef also do fancy printing like formal invitations and things. Astrid has such beautiful writing!"

Cinnamon makes a note of that, for if she ever wants to be really formal! She grins happily up at Josie, adding, "Hey, Josie? If I haven't said so already... thank you ever so much for being so nice to me and so helpful! I really do appreciate it!"

Josie grins down at her friend and gives the smaller woman's hand a squeeze, "Thank you for being my friend. I'm scary to people from outside, you know."

Cinnamon giggles, then looks mock-serious, "Well, maybe you should try saying hi from the inside? Less fur that way too, right?" That makes Josie snort and gently (for a Josie-value of 'gently') bump Cinnamon with her shoulder -- and for Cinnamon to stagger sideways as a result, though she's giggling as she does so!

Any random meander down Coblyn Street means seeing a panoply of people. Large. Small. Humanoid. Definitely not humanoid. Josie, much like Shane, seems to know everyone. What she doesn't point out is that she is playing bodyguard as much as tour guide as they head back for Cinnamon's cozy, tidy little cottage. The werewolf keeps up a running commentary, "Ooo! I'll have to come back and pick up some of those apples!" "If you need cloth for anything for sewing and stuff, Iliana is the best!" Scampering aside to pay for a couple of plain glass bottles of home-brewed root beer, "There's not a lot of regular soda here."

Cinnamon brightens at that, "Oooh, soda? I like soda! Oh, that reminds me -- I should talk to... who was it... about an internet repeater in my house, right?" She purchases a six-pack of root beer as well, curiously checking with Josie, "So are there any supernaturals who like... melt or burn up or otherwise die when they're out at night?"

Josie grins, "John. At the bank."

Cinnamon says, "Oh! Yes, that's it -- is the bank on our way?"

Josie looks around and says, "We'll have to go a little way past your place to get there." The question about going out at night makes her look thoughtful for a while, "I... don't think so? I mean, there's a lot of us that are sort of tied to lunar cycles and a few that are tied to solar cycles. But the ones tied to solar cycles don't seem to have problems with moon and stars."

Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, pushing her glasses back into place before she looks up at Josie and asks simply, "In that case... Josie, why doesn't the Council meet at night... for Elias' sake?"

Josie rolls her eyes, "Because people are assholes!" Her ears flush at her blanket statement and she says, "Really it's because the vast majority of people on it are diurnal. Someone brought up the idea of a night meeting and Elias waved it off. He's kinda accommodating like that."

Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully again as she considers, then shakes her head, "That... I don't mean to be rude but isn't that kind of unfair to him, though?" She adds as she glances around, "Can we drop stuff off at my place, then head to the bank? Oh!" She looks sheepish, "I mean, if you're not busy! If you have someplace to be, I don't want to keep you?"

Josie isn't fantastic at dissimulation, but she manages to sound casual as she says, "Oh, no. I'm fine. I mean, my main job is being on the council, so it's not like I have to be at work or anything..." Her eyes keep moving and her tail is slowly wagging. Just as they're reaching Cinnamon's house, they see someone turning away from the door.

Cinnamon gives Josie a slightly perplexed look, unsure as to what her friend is actually saying. Cinnamon has never been that good at artfully reading between the lines, after all... though she's distracted by the sight of someone at her house, "Look, Josie! Is that... who is that at my door? Can you tell?"

Josie, instead of looking more closely, tips her snout up and sniffs the air. The figure at the door is not familiar, but doesn't seem hostile. His skin is a shade so dark as to look almost purple in places and he's slender in an almost ascetic way. His hair is shaved to the skin and his smile is bright. Josie ahs, saying quietly, "Moustapha. He's part of Jalil's entourage..."

Cinnamon blinks nearsightedly at the figure for a moment... then whispers to her friend, "Josie, is Jalil another one of those nice folks even though they look scary? Or is he just scary?"

Josie looks uncertain for a moment... then says, "I'm pretty sure he's just scary? I mean, he's not so scary to me, but he's kinda scary."

As she's finishing this sort of ambivalent answer, Moustapha smiles and comes toward them. He's carrying a small scroll in his hand, "You are..." he looks down at something written on the outside of the scroll, arching an eye as if he's not sure he's got it right, "Kinna... man?"

Cinnamon giggles nervously in spite of herself, her shoulders a bit hunched at the thought that this very smiling man is part of a group of not-nice, very scary people, "Uh, th-that's... Cinnamon?"

Moustapha has a distinctly African tinge to his accent as he says, "Ah. Yes. Cinnamon. Like the cassia bark, yes? I have a letter from the most honorable and benevolent Jalil." Cinnamon nods a bit uncertainly, pushing her glasses back into place as she warily watches the man. She makes a mental note: find out what cassia bark is, later! Moustapha hands over the scroll -- or tries to, if Cinnamon seems nervous to take it.

Cinnamon hesitantly accepts it, murmuring a polite, "Thank you? Er... is it... magical?"

Moustapha continues smiling. It's a bright smile and lights up his face. Josie, however, remains almost expressionless. The messenger laughs warmly and shakes his head, "No. No, it is no spell. It is simply a letter." Cinnamon nods slowly, still slightly worried as she carefully juggles her bags around on her arms so she can unroll the scroll to read it. The writing on the inside of the scroll is elegant to the point of near illegibility if one hadn't spent time reading things in elaborate calligraphy. The strokes are a little eccentric, as if whatever writing instrument was used wasn't actually created for the Latin alphabet:

Cinnamon, I wish to extend my welcome to Coblyn Street and to the Council. You were quite unexpected. Your grandfather was a stolid and careful man and his passing is greatly mourned. I pray you do not let Killa's behaviour paint the rest of us in an unflattering light. Let us instead speak to you on even terms. I look forward to further conversation.

It's signed in either a different alphabet or in even more convoluted calligraphy. It takes Cinnamon a bit to decipher the letter, and she's quietly relieved Josie's there as well to help with the startlingly ornate writing style! Internally she makes a mental note: never write any letters herself! Her handwriting is far too prosaic for a place like this, she suspects. Moustapha stands while Cinnamon and Josie decipher the letter. The smile never leaves his face, "Do you have some reply?"

Cinnamon shivers slightly at the thought of meeting with... with what, an element of fire itself? She wonders worriedly if she herself is immune to fire, as a dragon's child -- she really hopes so, right now! However, at Moustapha's courteous query she hastily pulls herself together and considers, pushing her glasses into place... then she says carefully, "Could you please tell Jalil that I appreciate his kind letter, and I would like to talk to him at some later point?" There, she thinks nervously -- hopefully that'll work!

Moustapha listens and keeps right on smiling, "I will tell him, yes. Did you wish to write a reply?"

Cinnamon hesitates, glancing worriedly between her two current companions, "Er... is that the correct thing to do?" She adds apologetically to Moustapha, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep you waiting -- I'm just still learning how things are done here, you know?"

Josie doesn't scowl, but her voice is a little more flat than Cinnamon is used to hearing, "We'll send the official answer later, Moustapha. For now, you can just take the verbal answer."

Cinnamon blinks up at Josie -- then gives Moustapha an unwittingly brilliantly relieved smile, "Okay! Thank you!" She keeps shifting her bags carefully around so she can find her key. She'd like to stuff the scroll into one of the shopping bags, but she's worried that doing so might seem disrespectful... so she tries her best not to drop anything as she fumbles around in her purse. Josie takes some of Cinnamon's things so she's not trying to juggle them. She also quite pointedly turns her back on Moustapha. Even then it takes a beat or two for him to move off down the road. Cinnamon gives a small sigh of relief -- both when Josie helps, and when Moustapha moves off! She just opens her door and waves Josie in first, though, securely closing the door before she carefully dumps all her stuff on her little side table. Bemusedly she exclaims, "Josie! What was going on there, please?!"

Josie ducks her head and then settles on her cushion seat with a sigh, "I think Moustapha likes making people uncomfortable. He's some kind of mischief spirit, I think. He knows you're new. I think he was counting on you not knowing the formalities."

Cinnamon sighs a bit wearily as she starts sorting out her things and heading towards her little kitchen with the soda, "Really? Well, poop. That's going to be a thing that I'll have to be braced for again, isn't it... teasing the new girl." Her voice is rather flat... almost disappointed, as she adds, "Jalil had to know that too, didn't he -- what he was sending."

Josie's ears flatten a little, "People are jerks." She sighs, "No, I think Jalil actually expected the letter to be left for you. Bad timing to meet up with Moustapha." She shakes her head, "Maybe he did. I don't know. You're not going to meet up with him alone, though."

Cinnamon pauses after closing the refrigerator door, considering a moment. "That's... actually an interesting point. Why does Jalil need an entourage, anyway? Does he like, burn things up accidentally or something?" She curiously adds, "Do all the Councillors have entourages? Or, like, are supposed to have?" She muses thoughtfully as she heads back into the front room, "Where does one pick up an entourage? Not like you can find them at 'Bed, Bath, Entourage, and Beyond,' after all?" That ridiculous thought makes her grin to herself, and lifts her mood, "Well, either way -- onwards! Bank next, right?"

Josie's tail flicks and flitters, "Some of us do. Marcus has a whole household. Like butlers and maids and all that. Aisling could have one if she wanted, but she doesn't want. Hilde's got hereditary thraellar, but she doesn't call on them much." The werewolf gets to her feet and heads for the door, "Yes. Bank. John. Then you can figure out what you want to send to Jalil."

Cinnamon blinks, pushing her glasses into place as she picks up her purse with her free hand, "What's a thray-lare, and how do you inherit them?" She giggles, "Sounds like some sort of condition! 'I'd come to the meeting but unfortunately I have a bad case of thraaay-lahrrrrgh!'" She rolls the R sound like a pirate -- then giggles a great deal more as she's locking the door again behind them!"

Josie says, "I think the modern way of saying it is 'thralls.' Servants, kinda." She can't help giggling at the joke, "You inherit them because they're sworn to your family."

Cinnamon blinks startledly this time! "They're... enchanted? Enslaved? That... oh!" She's relieved at Josie's correction, "Oh, that's not so bad then!" She considers for a bit, then looks up at Josie a bit worriedly, "Er, did, um... do I have those too? Do you know?" She wonders aloud, "Knowing Liam, at least from what I've heard from folks, I bet he'd send anyone like that home. But... oh dear! What if they get some sort of call too -- like I did -- when there's a new dragon?!" Then she abruptly looks relieved, "Oh! Wait, of course -- I'd just send them home too!" She considers, then adds with dry humor, "I suspect they'd most likely be a little disappointed at how, um... how un-dragon-like I look, anyways... so sending them away would likely be better for both of us!"

Josie considers that and then huhs, "I don't know. Liam lived with Becky and would rent rooms when he had to travel. But he didn't have like maids or anything. I guess it's possible there's something like that out there." She sighs softly, "I miss him. I'm sorry you never met him. He was funny."

Cinnamon sighs a bit wistfully, though she keeps her thought to herself: would it have been better if the assassin had struck at and killed Liam's heir... rather than the dragon himself? She sighs again, straightening up to her full -- if short -- height. Maybe it would have been better if it was her dead instead of Liam... but that's not what happened. She's not going to panic over this -- she'll make a plan! -- and she's not going to let it make her depressed that she never got to meet this lovely relative that everyone misses. She says honestly, "I wish I could have met him. I've never had a relative who actually liked me." Then she shoves her glasses savagely back into place and stomps determinedly off towards the bank.

Josie looks surprised, "But you do. Rebecca's your step-grandmother. That's a relative. And you've got me." The bank is empty except for John and the other person that seems to work with or for him. Fionn is happy to let them past.

Cinnamon smiles a bit sadly over her shoulder at Josie, "I would love to be related to your family, Josie -- they sound like they actually like each other!" Once at the bank Cinnamon smiles at Fionn, then heads on in. She brightens at sight of John, "Good afternoon! Can I ask you a question, please, John?"

John looks up from his desk and smiles, "Cinnamon. Josie. Of course you may." Josie seems to be thinking about something.

Cinnamon sits down neatly at the desk, tucking her purse into her lap, "I've been told that you have some kind of..." she glances up at Josie, "was it an internet connection?" then looks back at John, "or something -- so I was wondering if you could help me figure out how to set up something like that in my little house too, please? I'd like to be able to work remotely, you know?"

John lays down his pen -- a heavy old-fashioned fountain pen -- and smiles, "Well, I have a generator. And there are those miniature cell-booster repeaters you can get. Some of the magics keeping Coblyn safe interfere with a lot of tech."

Cinnamon nods inquiringly, "But would I be able to set up an internet connection with your help so it doesn't harm the street at all?"

He thinks a moment, "I know you can get wifi near the entrance... perhaps you can piggyback off of that? I think wifi is somewhat limited in range, however." Cinnamon isn't any sort of computer techie -- she's a number cruncher! So she simply looks hopeful and waits as John thinks aloud. He considers that, "Well, we can get a gennie set up for you part-time at least. If radio signals can get through, cell signals might... I could help you set up the network if you got one of the small repeaters and put it as close to the street's borders as possible."

Cinnamon nods eagerly, "I can get the right equipment -- I just need to know what to get and how it should be set up, you know?" She happily makes plans with John, scribbling down notes on what she should purchase, then fervently thanking the rakshasa for his help! After that she beams up at Josie, "Okay! What's next? Have I forgotten anything we should be doing?"

Josie thinks and says, "Nothing important. We can go back to your place and write those invitations. We might even be able to get Shane to deliver them. Or I can." She doesn't add the 'while Shane stays with you' part of that.

Cinnamon nods happily, waving at John as they depart, "Thanks again!" As the two supernaturals head back towards Cinnamon's cozy little cottage, she cheerfully checks her to-do list, "So, that's both Nasteexo and Jalil who apologized -- that's nice of them!" She beams, then adds, "Also, gotta go shopping for the tech items. Gotta find out who or what exactly it is I'm representing on the Council. Gotta write the invitations and have them delivered -- and I think Nasteexo and Jalil are some of the first to invite! Gotta check in periodically with Elias in regards to... er, to... the stuff I brought him." She doesn't want to mention assassinations in the street, after all. "Hmm..." She considers for a bit, then gives the young werewolf an uncertain smile, "Josie... you keep saying I won't meet this or that person alone. Surely they're not afraid of me, though? ...to the point that they think they need a bodyguard around me?" She considers that... and honesty compels her to add, "I can't imagine how they could be, really -- not even Killa!"

Josie blinks slowly, "Cinnamon, you nearly roasted Killa. Fire-breathing is dangerous."

Cinnamon turns red with embarrassment, "W-well, um, yeah! But -- b-but he scared me! I mean, surely they don't feel the need to scare people over tea?!"

"Killa's going to survive. It probably wouldn't hurt Jalil much... or Aoi... but the others..."

Cinnamon blinks at that thought, pushing her glasses back, "Wait. I thought... but aren't Jalil and Aoi basically fire themselves?!"

Josie nods, "Which is why I said it wouldn't hurt them much. Or at all, really." She smiles and puts an arm around the smaller woman, "Have you ever heard the saying that people trust others as far as they think they themselves can be trusted?"

Cinnamon falls silent as she thinks about that... then simply says, "Oh..." in a small voice. It hadn't occurred to her that she might be considered scary! That's a new and... hm... unpleasant? -- thought.

Josie doesn't seem at all scared of her. Neither have any of the folks on the 'stay hidden' side. She is quiet for a minute, "I don't want you to go to these meetings alone."

Cinnamon nods gravely up at Josie, "Because they'll be twitchy because they'll be afraid of me? I can see that. But... wouldn't it be better to show them that I'm not scary, rather than having to have a bodyguard all the time?" Cinnamon is still a little shaky on her understanding of the (ab)uses of power, after all!

Josie says, "Not to protect them from you. Other way 'round." She says, still quiet, "You're a dragon. You can protect yourself. But some of them might still not take you seriously." She ducks her head and her ears go pink, "Me and Shane and Elias talked about having someone with you all the time for the first little bit."

Cinnamon blinks slowly as she thinks about that -- in fact, she automatically unlocks her door, ushers Josie in, and resecures her home as she considers. Finally she says slowly, "Josie... is that -- are you and Shane -- I mean." She falls silent, not entirely sure how to ask what she wants to know. Cinnamon is still moving a bit reflexively as she starts the makings for tea, and preps a tray of sandwiches and scones. Thoughtfully she says, "Okay, I really don't get this yet. So... okay, so first, what does not taking me seriously mean, please? That they... they'll point and laugh and shout names at me? Or... or they'll... they'll, uh, l-like with Liam..." Abruptly her throat closes up in fear, and she can't bring herself to say the word: murder. Good golly! Was coming here just a huge mistake? Or... wait. Wait. Deep breaths. Count to ten. She can do this... she's not going to panic!

Josie settles on her comfy little seat tailor-fashion, "They'll think maybe you can be bribed or intimidated. You saw Killa. He really didn't believe you were Liam's granddaughter. Aoi may try flattering and charming you. She's kinda charming, after all."

Cinnamon takes a minute, holding onto the edge of her little kitchen counter with both hands as she takes deep, slow breaths. Finally she gives Josie a weak smile, "A-heh. Uh... y-yeah... yeah, sh-she's charming..." She takes one more deep breath, sighing it out gustily... then determinedly continues preparing a nice selection of nibblies. She brings that out first, setting the tray on the low table in front of Josie and dragging over a large, fat cushion for herself as well. After that she goes to get the tea, calling over her shoulder, "Actually, I was wondering, Josie: who do Jarek and Elias represent, please?"

Josie leans back on her elbows, "Jarek represents the northern Slavic states. Like Poland, Belarus, Lithuania... Elias represents most of the ones in the south. They split that whole huge Russia thing. Qadan and Elias have a little friction around that, actually. Mongolia and Russia and Kazakhstan and all those places are a little jumbled up."

Cinnamon nods slowly as she returns with the tea tray -- that makes sense for Jarek! She can see how Elias would end up covering the more Eastern European/Russian areas too. She settles down and starts pouring tea for the two of them as she thinks a bit, then curiously asks, "Okay, so... that seems to cover pretty much all the world! I think... there's only Antarctica and the Pacific -- like Australia, maybe? -- that's left. Er... is that who I represent?" She wonders a bit worriedly if she can find some anthropological writings about the Australians, if she's supposed to represent them! She sips her tea, and also helps herself to several of the little sandwiches and scones. She's nervous, and when she's nervous she gets hungry.

Josie mmms, "Well, the Pacific Islanders all liked Liam pretty well. I mean, there was Pele. They understand fire is creative as well as destructive. He also dealt with some of the folks up in the Arctic and a scattering of people from like Greece and Italy."

Cinnamon looks puzzled, "But... wouldn't the Greeks and Italians go to Marcus? I thought he was the non-Norse Europeans?" She blinks as she adds, "Wait... there are supernaturals up in the arctic?! Oh my gosh -- do I have to go visit with them periodically?!"

Josie giggles, "Of course there are. There's the Inuit up there!" She says, "Marcus does... but some of them don't like Marcus. The fauns hate him." Then she looks thoughtful, "Which might be why he ended up with the Pacific Islanders..."

Cinnamon blinks nervously, "Oh my!" Most of the reading she's done on fauns and satyrs makes her a little... alarmed! Though... well, surely they wouldn't be too, er... bawdy? -- with a dragon?!" At Josie's last comment, though, Cinnamon says, "What? Wait, who? You lost me there, please?"

Josie looks confused herself, "What? The Inuit?"

Cinnamon giggles nervously, pushing her glasses back, then tries again, "Er, wh-who has the Pacific Islanders, please? A-and... do I have the Greeks and Italians, then? Do I have all the southern Europeans?" She pauses as she remembers a bit of reading she did some time ago -- a comment that the southern European states were often regarded by the northern Europeans with the same disdain as some of the 'Deep South' states were regarded in the US. Her voice is low and wondering, "Ooooh... does Marcus -- er, does he... is he patronizing to them? Is that it?"

Josie cocks an eyebrow, "You've met Marcus. What do you think?" Then she grins, "Not all of them. It really is sort of a pockets-here-and-there kind of thing. Like I said, the fauns and satyrs don't like him much. I don't think there are many centaurs left... you'd be surprised how many woodland deities there are!"

Cinnamon stares in silent awe at Josie, her forgotten teacup held in both hands before her. Her eyes are huge as she whispers, "There are centaurs?! Oh my gosh... when I was a kid I wanted to marry one so bad!"

Josie puts a hand over her mouth and giggles, "I think there would be problems with having kids and such." Once she gets herself under control, she says, "There's Iason, of course. But I don't know how many more there are."

Cinnamon looks wry, "Well, I never thought I'd be having kids considering how I look. That's why I thought a centaur would be awesome -- more than a nasty human male, and big and strong... but not a horse." She shudders once, "Horses scare me! My family tried to get me into riding for a while. Bad idea." She sips her tea, then sighs ruefully, "Anyways! OK, so I've got the Arctic Circle and... southern Europe? So Marcus has the Pacific Islanders?" She grins, "I'm surprised Pele's not blown him up yet, if so!"

Josie's eyes are twinkling, "Then you need to go to the infirmary."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Josie, "The... infirmary? There's an infirmary... wait, of course there must be one! Though... er, why would Marcus getting toasted by Pele make me need to go to the hospital, please?"

Josie giggles, "No. Liam had the Pacific Islanders. Probably because they're related to the Inuit. Iason. At the infirmary. He's a centaur."

Cinnamon's eyes, if anything, get even bigger with awe! She gasps, "Here?! There's a centaur here on Coblyn?!" She abruptly turns pink with shy embarrassment, squeaking, "Oh! I couldn't!" She hunches up nervously, staring at her teacup... then hastily grabs another scone to eat.

Josie can't help giggling, but it's obviously not a mean giggle, "Yes. There's a centaur on Coblyn. He's the chirurgeon. Or at least that's the word he uses. He's a doctor."

Cinnamon feels like her head may self-combust from the heat of her embarrassment! She chews up her scone, not tasting it at all as she mentally berates herself... then swallows, takes a deep breath, and says, "Well! Okay, guess I should get to work on those invitations, right?"

Josie nods and smiles at her friend. They scratch out the invitations in a little notebook Josie keeps on her to get the wording right and then get them written. The werewolf says it's likely best if Cinnamon writes them herself. Once they're done and sealed, Josie sets them aside until Shane comes by to check on her and Cinnamon. He's happy to take the invitations and deliver them. Cinnamon happily thanks Josie for all her help and kindness! She does the same when Shane arrives for the invitations, sheepishly apologizing to both of them for causing them any worry due to her, er... lack of scariness.

Shane, having light skin and dark hair, is very good at the arched brow, "Cinnamon, you are not a burden. Your family were assholes who couldn't see your worthiness." He grins, a bright flash, "And you're scary as fuck. In a fantastic way. It's not that you can't protect yourself if you have to, it's that people don't understand that yet -- and you felt bad about hurting a dick like Killa. Josie and I thought you'd feel really bad if you had to hurt someone else because they were attacking you." Cinnamon blushes, but has to admit Shane's right -- she'd feel horrible if she had to keep burning people! She wonders a bit nervously to herself, though: what will she do if someone comes up behind her and stabs her in the back -- the way they did to Liam?! Heck, she's not even sure she'll always remember to breath fire if someone scares or hurts her badly enough!

Josie nodnods in agreement! "I've got teeth. Shane has his sword -- and goddess knows how many other blades we can't see -- and he's also an... what's the word with the throwing people around?" Shane murmurs, "Aikidoka. But I don't throw them. They throw themselves..."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at that! "Wow, I didn't know you were able to -- to do telekinesis, Shane!"

Shane laughs and shakes his head, "I do aikido. I got beat up a lot as a kid. My mom let me take martial arts. That was the first one. Aikido is about redirecting energy. Physics as a martial art. For every action..."

Cinnamon blushes again, "Oh! I get it now."

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

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