Goblin Town -- Logs

It's a couple of hours later that everyone is in Currier's Hall, attending the Council meeting. Cinnamon is all cleaned up -- both herself and her little house -- and neatly dressed. She's delighted that Shane and Thorn are in the audience where she can see them... oh, and there's Jaeger too! Further, before the actual meeting the little dragon exchanges hugs with almost every councilperson there... though Killa is a noteworthy exception, since the snake-man looks both cold and grumpy! Cinnamon smiles and greets him warmly nevertheless, and mentions how happy she is to see both he and Jes�s looking so much better. She politely avoids Marcus, of course, since that's what he requested.

Less than half an hour later, all the opening pleasantries and roll call are concluded... and Cinnamon stands to give all her accounting and billing information to the Council itself. She's rather excited: today, for the very first time, she gets to make an official request for Shane to be paid for his awesome assistance in helping her with her people! He's listed with all the other requests for payment the various councilors have made, and as she reads out the new requests, the little dragon is quietly pleased. Finally, Shane will get both formal and financial recognition for his hard work!

Killa is indeed grumpy and irritable today; anyone acquainted with snakes might think he was ready to shed. Truly, it's more that he's aware tonight is the reveal/hide vote... and he's quite certain it's going to be 'hide' again -- after they got so close to a reveal vote not so long ago! Of course, that was because of some very dishonorable happenings... and he's even more agitated because he knows he really should vote 'hide.' It's become obvious over the last year that the humans are just not yet ready! All these issues, though, have him feeling unappreciated and out of control... and like any time he's feeling out of control, he tries to take it back in small ways. He's already picked two small fights with other councilors -- both with unsatisfactory results. That's mostly due to the fact the first was with Marcus, who was unwilling to engage, and the other was with Sparrow. The largest problem with arguing with Sparrow, though, is that he really is as clever as he thinks he is! After the spat, Sparrow had made Josie have to stifle a giggle when he leaned in close and murmured to her, without moving his lips, "S'what he gets fer comin' to a battle of wits unarmed!"

Consequently, Killa is fuming and only half-paying attention when Shane's name is mentioned -- but that makes him sit up straight, snapping, "Why are we wasting council funds on the paladin of Coblyn Street? He should be paid by Caradog!" His tongue is flicking fast and his voice is an agitated hiss -- he's waiting for the dragon to get angry and roar in response. Perhaps he'll be able to finally get some of his pride back!

Cinnamon blinks as she's interrupted, then glances up at Killa as she pushes up her glasses and beams, "Wow, I'm glad you asked that question actually, Killa! I've been wanting an opportunity to publicly thank Shane for what a huge help he's been, and this way I can also let everyone else know how awesome he's been. See, when I shift shape..." She explains concisely just how finger-fumblingly tricky it can be for her, with claws that are over 6" long, to do simple things like untie knots in her harness, or handle small and rather fragile (to her) cardboard boxes, or even to use her cell phone for GPS while she's flying. She also proudly points out how assiduous Shane is in making sure she gets enough food and water right after a flight... and she concludes with: "He and Thorn -- you all know Thorny, right? The healer that works with Iason? -- they've both been totally invaluable in helping me help my people!" She laughs, adding, "Gosh, if he hadn't told me Iason was paying for him, I'd absolutely have Thorn on this list for payment too!" She beams as she looks up at the audience, waving and calling exuberantly to Shane and Thorn (where they're seated in the audience), "Thank you again, you guys, for being so amazing while I was doing stuff for the folks I represent!"

That causes several smiles -- even a few quiet chuckles, both amongst the other councilors as well as the audience. At first, Killa too is disarmed by the little dragon's bright and happy smile... but then he recovers. By the time she's finished talking, he's already up to at least medium dudgeon, and demands, "And why don't you do your work yourself, hatchling? Why don't the rest of us get the special privilege of someone special to assist us?!" He smirks, arms crossed. Surely that will rile her up.

Cinnamon looks over at Killa in surprise, "But... you do, Killa! Isn't that what Daniella does for you?" She grins and gives a quick, shy wave to where Daniella and Jes�s sit in the area for Council member assistants, then smiles at Killa, "Don't you bill the Council for one official assistant, when you need to? That's what the rules say we're allowed, after all! I checked in the Manual of Rules and stuff, to be sure I was doing it right! Um, let me remember, to share with everyone..." She tilts her head, staring off into the distance as she runs through her memory... then nods once and gives the proper title of the Council's rulesbook and manual of official interpretations. Then she states first the inner document's title, then the section title and bylaw subtitle, followed by the appropriate lines from the rule in question.

As she speaks, the little dragon doesn't notice several people hastily flipping through pages in their rulesbook to get to that section, and then follow along with her to the actual sentences themselves. Those folks all simultaneously realize the little dragon is indeed reciting the appropriate part of the rules... absolutely verbatim! When she's done, Cinnamon beams cheerfully at the (now slightly bemused) snake-man, "So that means you can totally bill the Council for Daniella's work, Killa, and the Council can ask her to help -- and pay her -- in other, similar situations too! Or alternatively, you can pay her yourself, which will mean she only helps you!"

Sparrow is leaning back in his seat, grinning as Cinnamon schools Killa. When she's done talking, he leans toward Josie again and murmurs, "See? Unarmed."

Killa doesn't like being shown up! Were he himself draconic, steam might be coming out of his nostrils by this point, "You say this as if you think I need assistance!" He doesn't like being thought of as weak -- and he's particularly touchy after his lengthy convalescence. Consequently, Sparrow is literally biting his tongue by this point!

Cinnamon thinks carefully about Killa's words -- she can tell this is definitely dangerous territory with the proud, ancient entity. But then she grins and shakes her head, "No, I don't actually think you need help... any more than I do, really. I just think you're being smart in having your people do things for you when you need to be concentrating on more important stuff. Like, sure: I could fumble with knots with my claws, so I can get things off my backpack harness before changing shape -- just like you, at the last council meeting at the rez, could have done all your own packing and stuff, right? But really, when you have a ton of things you're thinking about for the meeting itself, and you absolutely need to focus your attention on it, then I think your way is just smarter, you know? Like doing what you did -- having people you trust make sure the right things are packed, and there's food and water at the right times, and stuff like that. It means we can do our jobs better, right?"

Killa can't show much expression -- it's not how his face is built -- but he's obviously angry. Daniella steps in to murmur, "We take the small burdens so you can deal with the important things, my lord."

Cinnamon nods in agreement, "That's it exactly, yes! Plus you're lucky, I think, Killa, in having such loyal people that can do that for you." She wryly adds, "-and I'd be stupid if I didn't learn from the good examples right there in front of me!"

Killa searches for a way to be upset at this... but finds only a compliment. He huffs, then waves a hand dismissively, "Fine."

Cinnamon smiles at Killa, then goes back to her listing of the bills and accounts. It's only about 15 minutes later that discussion is concluded, and the vote to accept the Treasurer's report passes unanimously. Everyone is mentally moving on to the next topic... well, almost everyone. Shane is feeling immensely gratified with how well his acushla is handling things! Both Elias and Jaeger unwittingly have nearly identical, proudly avuncular smiles, as well. Killa is rather pleased to hear the little dragon is apparently watching and learning from him. He is, in fact, slightly perplexed at how good that makes him feel! Marcus is frowning thoughtfully: Teufel noch mal! He struggles with keeping Killa under control here, trying to prevent the snake-man's constant squabbling -- even nearly exploding! -- all the time, so... how did she do that?! -and finally... Sparrow is utterly delighted to see the little dragon so unwittingly sowing helpful accord all around herself. How delightfully chaotic to expectations!

Once it's decided to back-pay Shane for the work he's done, and other small bits of monetary administrivia are fixed, the next vote comes up. Snow stands and speaks, her voice gentle, "I know this is a very important vote and that my predecessor tried extremely hard to sway it with death and destruction. I simply wish to say that my desire is for all of our kind to be safe and healthy, and to apologize for Qadan causing so much bloodshed, terror, and grief." She inclines her head and sits again; there are quiet murmurs around the table.

Elias stands, face solemn, "I call the vote. The matter at hand is whether to stay concealed or to reveal ourselves to the outside world. I move that we vote on this matter now."

It is likely unsurprisingly when Aoi murmurs, "I second the motion to bring the issue to a vote."

Cinnamon listens silently and with great interest. She's very curious as to how folks will vote, considering what's been happening recently! Elias nods as he looks around the table. If he needed to breathe, he would likely be taking a deep breath now, "All those who vote to stay hidden, raise your hands." Around the table, the hands everyone expects come up quickly: Josie. Sparrow. Elias himself. Hilde. Jarek. Aisling -- and then... Marcus. Snow. Jalil, and... with marked reluctance... Killa. Cinnamon raises hers as well, of course... and smiles at sight of Marcus raising his hand -- good for him! She beams, in fact, as she sees how many folks agree. This is awesome, to her! Elias nods, "And... reveal?" Aoi's hand goes up. Nasteexo's hand stays in their lap; Nasteexo's horse today is a slender young Dominican man. Elias tips his head and adds, "Those who abstain?" Nasteexo holds up their hand with a quiet smile. Elias nods to her in response, then says, "By a vote of eleven for hide, one for reveal, and one abstention, the decision is for us to protect our peoples and stay hidden from the human world at this time."

Thorn is relieved the vote was for 'hide'! His sympathies do side with 'reveal,' in a lot of ways... but the human world isn't ready for the supernatural world yet. From his usual spot sitting next to Thorn, Shane sighs in relief. His voice is quiet as he kicks his feet up on the railing in front of him, "Well, that went farther over to the hide side than I expected."

Thorn nods, murmuring, "It was a bit of a surprise to me, too. Maybe with all that's happened in the past year, that influenced the vote."

Cinnamon too sighs in relief, and beams at her friends. Yay! This went surprisingly well! She makes a mental note, though, to talk to Aoi later. Maybe the phoenix could use some help in making a plan for her people? Cinnamon doesn't know if she's the person to do that helping, but she's happy to try and find the right person for Aoi, if so! She wonders, though, why Nasteexo is abstaining. Hmm... maybe because Nasteexo thinks there should be a plan too? Hilde is sitting beside Cinnamon this session, and she leans close to murmur, "Interesting choice to abstain. Probably because they want to reveal but know it's not the right time, hm?"

Cinnamon whispers back, "I was actually wondering if they're more thinking that they'd like to see an actual, well-thought-out plan on how to reveal, first?"

Hilde smiles and shrugs, "Only way to tell is to ask." Cinnamon laughs softly, shaking her head -- but then pauses and considers. Actually... she could ask! She could ask both Nasteexo... and Aoi, who has promised her a Chinese (as opposed to Japanese) tea ceremony next! Honestly, Cinnamon thinks that's the only thing that might get she herself to change her mind, too -- a really well-thought-out, well-considered plan for how to most smoothly and beneficially reveal. She jots some notes for herself, so she won't forget to ask later.

As this is happening, there's some quiet conversation around the room... though Aoi seems to be looking intently at Marcus -- or at least as intently as anyone has seen her look, since she usually holds herself somewhat aloof. The young Germanic elf, however, is actually rather quiet, looking pensive as he jots something in a leather-bound journal while people are re-settling. Jalil, in fact, starts to stand up, possibly to bring up his reallocation petition... when there's a knock at the chamber door. Cinnamon looks up from where she too is making notes to herself -- this knocking is new! She's not really sure what it's for, though part of her tenses up -- as the last time someone unexpected entered the Council chambers, it was a platoon of assassination-minded mercenaries! She carefully lays down her pen and shifts her chair back... just in case she has to jump up quickly. Up in the audience, Thorn too glances at the door, his brow furrowing.

At the council table Marcus raises his head, brow furrowing at the knock. He stands, looking toward Diarmaid -- who is essentially serving as sergeant-at-arms for this meeting. "Diarmaid, could you please check who that is? Council meetings are open to all members of the community, of course, but are not usually meant to be interrupted once in session." The Fomorian nods and goes to answer, while Cinnamon watches silently. She likes Diarmaid, and doesn't want to see him get hurt! Interestingly, the Germanic elf's voice holds none of his usual haughtiness. It actually sounded like a request rather than an order, and the mention of the meetings being open was apparently to assure folks already in attendance that no one is meant to be excluded. Cinnamon gets a slightly puzzled expression as that registers -- but then sets the data aside, mentally, for later review. Right now: focus on whomever wants in!

When Diarmaid answers the door he finds a rather startling trio of beings. One is an iridescent, ethereal, and simply gorgeous winged horse walking on air! There is something about it that doesn't seem like a western horse, though. Perhaps the proportions are slightly off? Perhaps it's something else... but its hooves are not actually touching the floor. Astride its back, his knees carefully behind the roots of the wings, is someone who looks like he could be a species of troll: simply enormous, snaggle-toothed, and with great quantities of dark hair. This person holds something very carefully in his arms. Diarmaid stands for a moment, studying this assemblage of persons, then rumbles, "What business do you have here?" The dark man holds out a piece of parchment which Diarmaid takes and reads... and then he turns towards the council table, "They wish an audience."

Cinnamon looks faintly relieved -- that seems very... non-martial? She glances curiously at Marcus, this meeting's host. Marcus nods and, still standing, motions to Diarmaid to let them in. The horse carefully walks in, but where there should be the sound of hoofbeats on the floor (as there would be had Iason walked in), this time there is none. When the little group reaches the far end of the council table -- the end furthest from both Cinnamon, and Caradog's throne (which is empty today) -- the large man dismounts and very gently and carefully sets the small creature with him on the table. The difference between them becomes very stark then: he stands nearly ten feet tall and looks as if he has never slept a day inside. The tiny creature, however, looks like a deer's fawn, but in miniature. It is perhaps a foot tall, with enormous deep-black eyes, and its tiny hooves are steady upon the wood of the table. As this happens, Killa can be heard to hiss irritably. He's already had to deal with being verbally smacked down multiple times today -- and now something that looks like dinner is being put down on the council table?!

Cinnamon's eyes widen behind her glasses -- good golly, that is the cutest little creature ever! She grins delightedly... then brightens at a sudden thought. Grabbing her bag, she roots around in it until she finds the little plastic baggie of redcurrants that she keeps for when Thorn allows her to feed Erin. She sets down her purse again, then opens the baggie and gets out a few currants. Then she places her hand palm up on the council table, in silent invitation to the utterly adorbibble little fawn creature! As she does so, the dark man says something in an unfamiliar tongue, looking hopefully around the room... but when no one understands him, his shoulders slump a little. He tries again, this time speaking Chinese slowly and clearly... though he has an accent, so it's obvious this is not his native tongue, "We humbly come to seek redress-" -- but then he's interrupted by Killa hissing irritably, "Your familiar belongs on the floor -- or in your hands, or... anywhere but upon the table!" Sparrow is leaning back in his chair, smiling as Killa gets agitated.

Cinnamon glances curiously at the tall man, feeling a little sorry when no one knows his first language. When he shifts to Chinese though, she half-listens, even though she knows it's probably a petition for Aoi. She whispers very softly, as she smiles at the little fawn-like creature, "Hi, pretty! Do you like nibblies?" The tiny deer-like creature tip-taps across the table toward Cinnamon and the lovely redcurrants... and its nose is soft, its lips delicate and gentle, as it nibbles some of them up. Cinnamon nearly beams with delight -- how absolutely awesome! What an interesting white pattern in the pretty reddish-brown fur under the neck... and the legs: so delicate! Almost spindly, compared to the round little body. Cute, round little ears, and enormous, beautiful black eyes... as she studies the little creature, Cinnamon whispers happily, "Aren't you just the cutest?"

Currants! From the rafters flitters a shadow of feathers, to alight upon the table with an indignant chirp -- redcurrants are supposed to be hers! In the audience gallery, Thorn blinks as he spots Erin landing next to Cinnamon. The healer casts a glance at Killa, hoping the gathering of creatures doesn't increase the snake-man's agitation... which, of course, Thorn knows is going to happen all the same. At the council table, Cinnamon giggles softly, whispering to the indignantly feather-fluffed bird, "Don't worry, Erin -- there's plenty for you both!" With her free hand, she reaches into the baggie sitting before her on the table, producing a few currants for the familiar as well.

The dark man furrows his brow, apparently not understanding what Killa means. He turns to the lovely winged horse and speaks in that first language, listening quietly... then nods once. When he speaks again, it is in very broken, careful English, "She not magical helper." He takes a deep breath, brow furrowed, then tries again -- which takes some time and considerable mental effort, along with frequent consultations with the horse. They are apparently here to request that their lands -- and those lands' names are repeated in multiple languages, and turn out to be Maritime Southeast Asia -- be transferred from the Phoenix of the Asian Chair to the Dragon of the Thirteenth Chair. Unfortunately Killa keeps interrupting, which means the man keeps having to turn to the winged horse-creature -- for translation, apparently -- and then turn back to the table to continue. The poor man sometimes has to repeat what he's already said, as if he's not sure he got everything out. Thus by the third interruption he simply ignores Killa, continuing with his (obviously laboriously prepared) speech.

Killa hisses again, his face going more snakelike, "I don't care if it's a familiar, a pet, or dinner! It does not belong on the table!" Throughout, Sparrow is watching, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He's staying silent, however -- he doesn't need to incite anything here! Everyone on the council, and many of the people watching, know there's very little in the world -- probably aside from sex -- that Sparrow enjoys more than watching Killa get worked up into a lather. This? This is premium-grade lather right here!Cinnamon is still half-listening to the speaker, and sympathizing with the furry man about the constant interruptions -- and she's also very curious as to what that unknown language is. Her head comes up sharply, though, at mention of the 13th Chair -- that's her, isn't it?

At that point Killa slams his hands on the table, abruptly pushing himself to his feet -- if no one is listening to him, then he'll just get the damned beasts off the table himself! He whips quickly around the room toward Cinnamon. The little dragon jumps slightly at the sudden noise, glancing puzzledly over towards Killa -- only to see him nearly rushing at her again... just like the first time she came here! She gives a horrified squeak, reflexively scooping up the little deer-fawn-thingie in her arms and whirling away from Killa to protect it. However, before Killa can quite reach Cinnamon, the formerly calmly-standing winged horse leaps through the air in a streak of speed and light and wind! Its hooves hits the floor with a great slamming sound, its body solidly between Killa and Cinnamon, as it nearly trumpets an indignant neigh -- which sounds suspiciously like a word: "Tidak!"

Cinnamon nearly bounces out of her chair at all the noise behind her! Erin too, of course, vacates the table the instant Killa comes storming over, fleeing to the rafters to croak irritatedly there. Up in the audience gallery, Shane leans toward Thorn to murmur, "Your pretty girl sounds like she'd like to make a deposit on Killa's head just now!"

Thorn murmurs back, "Fortunately for him, it'd probably be ephemeral. Unless she's been eating cherries lately...."

Shane smirks, muttering, "Too bad." Then he clears his throat and tries to look Respectable and Serious.

Glancing over her shoulder, Cinnamon slowly turns and stares... still carefully cradling the little deer-creature against her. She blinks at the gorgeously angry, winged not-a-horse, then frowns consideringly as she checks the initially horrified, but now hugely relieved-looking furry giant. Her eyes narrow in perplexity for a few seconds... and then everything quietly clicks together in her head. She looks down at the tiny deer creature, and a slow smile crosses her face as she gently re-deposits it on the table. First in English, and then haltingly in that tongue used by the giant man, she says to it, "You... you ambassador are! Yes?" Thorn grins at Shane... then notices Cinnamon is talking cheerfully to the mouse-deer... so he turns his attention to the giant horse standing firmly and glaring at Killa.

The tiny deer-creature's front hooves tip-tap in a sort of little dance, and one big, limpid eye winks slowly at Cinnamon. Its soft, fluting voice is musical as it speaks in the first language the large, dark man used, "And you are the dragon of the Thirteenth Chair, yes? Why did you not speak when my translator did?"

Cinnamon grins as she translates to English for everyone present, and continues to do so as she replies apologetically to the little ambassador, "Apologize! Enough tongue must I hear before clear I speak. Learning still am." She smiles at the tall furry man, then adds, "Translator yours words excellent, to I learn some already!" She thinks a moment, then carefully adds, "Calling I am Cinnamon. All callings wish you say I?"

Sparrow's eyes twinkle -- there's no way he can resist speaking now! He cheerfully addresses Killa, "Probably best you sit back down, big fella. Eating visiting ambassadors is likely some kinda breach of hospitality!" He laces his fingers together and puts his hands behind his head, grinning as Killa hisses at him, then stomps back to his own seat again. Josie elbows Sparrow and gives him A Look. If he were sitting like a normal person -- instead of having his feet kicked up on the table and crossed at the ankles -- she might have kicked him in the shin. Cinnamon has to cover her giggle!

The little mouse-deer nods and replies to Cinnamon, "Yes, please. My friend with the wings is Bintang, I am Zaituna, and my translator is Megat. We would be honored to know the names of those present, other than the Great Phoenix of the Asian Chair."

Cinnamon blinks at that -- then realizes the mouse-deer must mean they already know the phoenix's name! With that, she introduces the little delegation to everyone there... and then introduces them all to the threesome. She wonders both where they're from -- she has yet to find out the name of the language she's speaking, after all -- and why they're here. This should be interesting! It's got to be an Asian tongue, for sure, though... since Aoi covers the Asian supernaturals. Indeed, after some ensuing discussion it turns out Zaituna is from Indonesia, Megat is an orang mawa -- of Malaysian mythology, though he himself was born in the Philippines -- and Bintang is a Malaysian flying horse, who brought them all here. Further, the little delegation holds seals and symbols of office permitting them to speak for all of Maritime South Asia. It's arranged that the little mouse-deer will speak in Malay, with the orang-mawa, Megat, translating into Chinese for Aoi... though it's possible Snow also understands Mandarin Chinese. Cinnamon is happy to translate into English for everyone else -- and fascinated to realize what an international coalition this is!

Zaituna does another little tip-tap front-hoof dance as she flutes, "We are here because we wish to strongly petition to be moved from the administration of the Great Phoenix of the Asian chair into the administration of the Dragon of the Thirteenth Chair. Our people are what is now called Austronesian descent, just as the peoples of Oceania." The little creature raises her head proudly as she adds, "Also, we have long been ignored by the Great Phoenix! We wish our voices to be heard." Cinnamon looks a little troubled as she translates the first reason given for the petition... then blinks in shock at the second! She takes a deep breath then, reminding herself that she must translate faithfully even if it worries her... and so she does precisely that -- though it's clear by her unhappy expression that she's very concerned about this.

Indeed, there's some uproar at this accusation, when it's translated -- Aoi's people are quick to jump to her defense! There is an instant call for proof of this supposed, so-called neglect. The Phoenix herself simply looks on with cooly regal disdain, although there's an audible thump as Sparrow's feet hit the floor. He leans forward, his head tipped and with furrowed brow, arms crossed on the table, as he listens intently -- he looks almost avian at the moment. Cinnamon hastily translates back to the little mouse-deer... then watches worriedly. Up in the audience, Thorn frowns, murmuring to Shane, "That... sounds pretty unprecedented? I mean, for whole peoples to want to be transferred to another councilor?"

Shane winces a little at Aoi's people shouting about the accusation being a lie, and nods slowly to Thorn, "Southern Europe did it -- went to Liam instead of Marcus, because he was being a stuck-up asshole." A heartbeat later he murmurs softly, "The little... a-deer-able thing is telling the truth -- or at least what Cinnamon translated is true. But someone over there in Aoi's corner is lying their ass off."

Thorn nods slowly, "Is it possible that someone on Aoi's staff hasn't been passing messages on to Aoi?" Shane shrugs once, his intent gaze still upon the argument happening at the council table.

At the table, Zaituna nods once to Megat, who goes to the flying horse's saddle bags and takes out a woven portfolio. He brings it to Cinnamon, who blinks at him, "Er... for me? Ah, I mean, umm... what is this, please?"

Zaituna flutes firmly, "We bring proof! And since we petition to come under your protection, we show this proof to you."

Up in the audience, Thorn murmurs, "Oh, crap -- just when we had some comity in the council...." Erin flitters down from the rafters to land upon his shoulder, and worries over his hair -- maybe he has some currants? -which, of course, he does.

Down on the council floor, Cinnamon looks uneasy as she studies the portfolio for a moment... but then she looks at Megat and Zaituna, "I understand your reasoning, but... may I ask that you show it to everyone, please? After all, you're presenting your petition to the Council, right? -- and I am a very new councilor, so I would like to be sure I'm not doing anything improper, even by accident, that might harm your petition. Is that acceptable?"

Zaituna nods her delicate little head, "Of course."

Cinnamon sighs in relief, beaming at the mouse-deer, "Thank you so much! Also, I'm happy to continue translating, okay?"

Megat opens the portfolio, then glances to Zaituna -- who explains in her clear, fluting voice as he starts laying out the paper trail. First, a copy of a letter asking for assistance, sent over a century ago to the phoenix -- the orang pulls out a sheet of hand-written text using the Latin alphabet, laying it on the table -- followed by the letter received in return, which advised that the phoenix was not currently available, being away on business -- and the orang pulls out another sheet of paper covered in flowing Chinese ideograms, signed and stamped with a flying phoenix. The mouse-deer continues smoothly with case after case, and the orang mawa keeps laying out more and more letters in a curving arch across the table... and most of the various councilors start looking more and more uncomfortable, unhappy, disapproving... even angry -- and occasionally glancing sideways at Aoi. However, as more and more information is exposed, Sparrow's frown turns into an almost impish grin; he chuckles very softly.

Up in the audience gallery, Thorn is extremely dismayed -- this is pretty damning -- a pattern of over one hundred years of ignorance! Admittedly, a hundred years ago was the aftermath of the Great War... but at some point Aoi really needed to reply to her people! He glances at Sparrow, wondering why that one is amused rather than... well, anything else. "Why is Sparrow laughing?" he murmurs to Shane.

Shane softly replies, "Sparrow fuckin' loves seeing the mighty brought low by the small." He nods at Aoi in all her glorious resplendency... then to the scruffily shaggy orang mawa and insignificantly diminutive little mouse-deer, "And he loves watching people getting caught in their own lies."

Thorn nods wryly to Shane, "That tracks...."

Cinnamon keeps translating this sad story of repeated, polite international requests for assistance on various issues, coupled with the courteously worded, replying letters -- which never directly deny assistance... but which also never actually address the issue. After something like 20 epistolary exchanges have been laid out, Megat closes the empty portfolio and bows slightly to little Zaituna... who pauses, then turns to Aoi and dryly inquires, "Does the Asian Chair have any reply she wishes to make?"

Aoi has stayed silent through all this, not even deigning to look -- she is absolutely, serenely expressionless -- as if this isn't worth even a ruffle of her feathers. At the query from Zaituna, however, from behind Aoi an elderly male humanoid suddenly darts forward, throwing himself to his knees and kowtowing repeatedly to the phoenix. He bursts into tears, begging her forgiveness in a positive flood of Chinese, and claiming this is all his fault; the culpability is his! He is the secretary that wrote all those letters on behalf of the Great Phoenix, who was too often occupied with Celestial matters to be disturbed with merely terrestrial ones!

Thorn blinks slowly. The man's willingness to all but fall on his sword seems... convenient? -and Aoi's detachedness doesn't make sense if this man was the actual fault of this issue...? The healer feels confused. Down on the council floor, Cinnamon blinks startledly at the abrupt appearance... but then hastily translates as quickly as she can, since she knows Megat isn't good at English. As always, she tries to translate without giving her own spin on someone else's words... but she can't help sounding a bit shocked and disapproving when she repeats the statement about 'mere' terrestrial matters. Like... aren't the Asian supernaturals supposed to be Aoi's freely-accepted responsibility?! The little dragon frowns thoughtfully as something else significant registers for her: out of the corner of her eye she saw Shane, up in the audience, wince slightly at the old man's assertions! She thinks for a moment... then leans forward and reaches for one of the letters. Scanning the lower left corner for the stamp and signature, she reads it aloud -- and it is indeed a name which titles itself as Imperial Secretary, Imperial Household Department to the Celestial F�nghu�ng Aoi.

The little dragon tilts her head thoughtfully... then lays down the letter and methodically checks all of them. She finds they're all signed by the same individual, although sometimes he apparently writes about Aoi's lack of availability due to her being busy, while other times it appears he's actually writing her words... which means it's not always clear if she's truly unaware of all these incidents. Once the little dragon has checked every single letter, she sighs softly, laying the last one neatly back down in place... then raises her head and looks silently at Aoi.

In fact, everyone is looking at Aoi -- not only the councilors, but also the three ambassadors, and everyone observing in the gallery. The air is heavy with waiting tension; it feels like people don't even dare breathe. It's almost a relief when Aoi finally rises elegantly to her feet, murmuring with what seems like exceptional composure, "The Celestial Hu�ng chooses not to contest the petition." Without meeting anyone's eyes, with her face as expressionless as a porcelain doll, Aoi turns and nearly glides out of the room... followed a few seconds later by her silent, head-bowed entourage... who quietly gather up the sobbing secretary as well.

Cinnamon's breath escapes her in a gusty, "Whoosh!" The silly noise makes her blush and laugh sheepishly, "Uhmm... sorry!" Up in the audience gallery, Thorn blinks. That's it? That's all? That's... no consequences, no shame, no apology? At the council table, the little dragon smiles uncertainly at the little delegation, "I think... um, actually, let's double-check, please!" She asks everyone at the table, "So does that mean the petition successfully passes?"

Marcus stands, his voice quiet and oddly solemn, "I move that the petition brought forth to transfer the care of these contested territories from their current chair, to the Thirteenth Chair... be approved."

Jalil stands, his demeanor almost stern, "I second the motion."

Cinnamon smiles wryly, in quiet relief that she didn't have to make the motion -- since, like her accepting the letters of proof, that could have looked like she was somehow 'in' on the petition, and moving surreptitiously against Aoi. Elias calls, "All for?" Around the table, every hand is raised. In the audience, Thorn is unsurprised at the unanimity, but also disappointed in Aoi for just walking out. Further, if it was indeed the secretary's fault... the healer actually worries for the man's health, even as heinous as the man's indifference was.

Cinnamon starts to raise her hand, even though she feels a little guilty for voting for herself... but then she realizes: she doesn't have to vote, actually. She says politely to Elias, "I'm really sorry, but... like I said, I'm a very young and new councilor, and I'd like to do things right. So while I'm happy to take on the Maritime Asians if the vote passes... I think it might be most correct to abstain from voting, and let you all decide. Is that okay?"

Elias nods and gives Cinnamon a smile which is, of course, only reassuring to people who know him. In fact, there are several gasps around the room from those who don't, as the vampire announces, "Eleven for. One abstention. One absence. The vote passes -- the contested territories and their peoples shall come under the auspices of the Thirteenth Chair."

Cinnamon sighs in relief at Elias approving... then beams at the little delegation, "Congratulations to you!" From around the room comes happy chatter, while the three ambassadors hug or nuzzle or otherwise comfort and cheer one another -- they're obviously greatly relieved at how this went! Both the audience and the remaining councilors also laugh and/or smile, though quietly.

Sparrow, of course, changes that in a flash -- by laughing a hearty, pleased laugh and slapping both hands on the table -- it's almost better than a gavel! "Now that deserves a celebration!" It's unclear whether he means the vote passing, or Aoi turning tail and running, however elegantly and haughtily. "Someone find something nice and strong for our visitors to drink." He grins at Elias, "You bring any of your mead?"

Cinnamon stands and moves to offer a hug or nuzzle to all three of the delegates, thanking them for their faith in her and promising to talk more with them later, so they can talk about their needs. She also asks them if she can either read the letters, or have a copy of them, please? She's standing near Elias, who is also congratulating the delegation, when Sparrow asks his question... and at Elias' head shake 'no,' she quietly asks him, "Want me to go see if Shaney can maybe bring some from your house, Elias?"

Elias nods and smiles, "That would be good, child." He may be one of the few people who can refer to her as a child without sounding condescending... but then very few people here can actually match his age, as is.

Cinnamon nods cheerfully, "Okay! Moment..." She turns and patters around the table towards the audience galley where Shane and Thorn are seated, so she can wave discreetly to Shane. She doesn't want to give the impression, after all, that the entire audience is now welcome to come flooding into the council area! She's quite sure she'd get into trouble for that, after all! She's also half-pondering things in her head as she goes, regarding the new delegation's assertions -- did Aoi know about the issues, or not? As she passes around Marcus, he reaches out to attract her attention -- he wants to speak with her.

While this is going on, Josie leans over and murmurs quietly to Sparrow, "Why are you cackling like a hyena, when you are a coyote?"

Sparrow tips his head toward her, nodding toward the little mouse-deer as he murmurs in pleased reply, "That lovely little critter there is one of the Tricksters. Watching her work her way on Aoi was pure fuckin' pleasure... the most fun I've had all week! You know how hard it is to knock the Phoenix off her perch? It was goddamn masterful."

Cinnamon catches Marcus' motion out of the corner of her eye, and automatically assumes it's just him wanting her to swing wide around him, please... so she murmurs an absent-sounding, "Sorry, 'scuse me..." as she veers out a bit further from his chair, so she's not within even accidental-touching range. Marcus blinks at how smoothly she avoided his attempted touch, swallowing a bit of a lump in his throat. But then he stands and follows her; he still wants to speak with her, after all. He steps up quietly behind her, resting a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Cinnamon jumps slightly at the unexpected touch, wheeling around to see who it is. At sight of Marcus, though, she nearly hops back a step, snapping her hands up in front of her with her palms outwards. Marcus too takes a reflexive step back, eyes wide as he blinks and holds his own hands up in a gesture meant to show he means no harm.

The little dragon's voice is a bit sharp due to both startlement, and her current mental distraction, "Okay, please stop that, dude! Just because you told me to stay away from you doesn't mean you get to sort of, of... chivvy me around the room by moving up near me no matter where I go." She frowns, pushing her glasses up almost aggressively, "I already know you think we make a sucky couple, and you want walls between us, okay? You don't have to rub it in constantly! So... so please just back off some -- I need space too, y'know!" She's still frowning as she whirls away, taking another long step before waving discreetly at Shane to come down to talk to her, please? Marcus sighs internally; this is obviously not the time to speak with her! When he turns back towards the council table, however... he finds he's facing several raised eyebrows and frowns -- even some scowling faces. By now, after all, most everyone knows it takes quite a bit to make Cinnamon snap like that.

The little dragon actually has quite a few thoughts tumbling through her head right now, which is the main reason she snapped audibly at Marcus -- he wasn't on her mental radar at that moment, and he startled her. Once she steps away from him, in fact, her brain busily continues sorting through data: should she actually accept the petition? If Aoi genuinely didn't know about all the requests for help, then it hardly seems fair to sort of snatch some of her people out from under her, after all... though it did appear as if the secretary might not be the only one at fault! Though... his 'partner in crime' could have been someone besides Aoi, true... so how to tell if it was Aoi or not? Shane easily hops the railing and leans down to kiss Cinnamon's cheek -- which causes a couple of giggles and murmurs around the room from people who've been watching this develop.

Cinnamon beams with genuine pleasure at Shane -- then flushes happily at the kiss! Taking his hands, she murmurs quietly, "Hi, asthore! Elias wants to knowww..." Her voice trails off as an intriguing thought occurs to her, and she goes silent, her expression distracted as she looks back the way Aoi left. A moment later Shane murmurs in soft puzzlement, "Acushla?" Cinnamon shakes her head once and gently squeezes Shane's hands, not wanting to lose her train of thought, "Moment, please? Thinky-mode..." -- then considers again: Aoi lost a ton of face today! She was the sole remaining voter on the losing side of a question, and she was exposed as doing something really long-term-wrong for her people. So... how does one regain face? From the admittedly quite limited reading Cinnamon has done on the ancient Chinese cultures, one apologizes with profound sincerity, and makes a big, immediate, and serious effort to put things right. But... Aoi made no effort at all to read the letters to find out what she needed to put right! Nor did she ask for copies for later. She didn't scold her secretary for keeping her (however well-meaningly) in the dark on these issues, nor tell him he needed to apologize too. In fact, Aoi pretty much didn't respond at all -- to any of the accusations whatsoever! Aoi simply didn't respond like someone caught entirely out by an unknown and unexpected problem... which means...

Cinnamon gasps softly, one hand coming up to her mouth as she whispers, "She knew!" She whirls back to Shane, her eyes huge in shock -- because how could a respectable and conscientious councilor do such a thing?! How could she have deliberately ignored her responsibilities to her people -- for over a century?! Cinnamon's voice is still low as she whispers in shock to Shane, "Asthore! Aoi knew about the problems! She chose to ignore them!" A heartbeat later, of course, doubt hits the little dragon: how can she be so sure? She's so very young, after all, and Aoi is incredibly ancient and wise... right? Cinnamon worries at that thought for a moment... but then she pushes up her glasses and realizes her answer is right there in front of her: Shane! Shane, her asthore... who didn't flinch at all at her statement. Cinnamon sighs wryly, "Oh, dear. This is gonna get messy, I bet..."

Shane grimaces slightly in remembrance, "Yeah. Someone over in that section was shouting some pretty untrue things, but I couldn't tell who because everything was overlapping. Not Aoi -- she didn't open her mouth at all, then -- but someone." Cinnamon frowns in silent worry as she glances back towards where Aoi left. Can the meeting go on without one of the councilors? Or will Aoi have Bright Wings come and fill in for her? Though... didn't Bright Wings have to... to arrive from somewhere? Cinnamon's not sure... so she decides not to worry about it for now. Instead she passes along Elias' request about Shane maybe bringing one of his brewings to the meeting, so the Maritime Asian delegation can have a celebratory glass. After that, she smiles at Thorn as he arrives. He'd come down more conventionally from the audience, so he takes somewhat more time.

Thorn adds to Shane's commentary, "We'll have to see... though Aoi seemed content to let them fall into your purview, Cinnamon." He nods to Shane, "I'd like to go with you when you get the mead. I want to look around and make sure that the secretary who took the fall for this hasn't been harmed or discarded or anything like that."

Cinnamon gives Thorn a puzzled glance, "That... wouldn't be honorable, Thorn -- getting rid of her secretary wouldn't gain her face back, you know? It's far more likely he'd do something himself... like, I read of one story where the, er... the guilty party's assistant, who was in on the blackmail, wrote a letter saying he was the only one responsible and no one else knew! -- which was, of course, a lie -- and then he killed himself. In that way, he gave the guilty man's 'face' all back to him. Like that, y'know?"

Shane nods grimly, "Yeah. I worry about that, myself. Aoi is usually..." He looks like he's trying to find a word that's true but diplomatic, "...not going to be so blatant as something like that."

Cinnamon pauses, considering her words... then shudders once and adds, "Though that's not actually as reassuring as I'd meant, sorry..."

Shane smiles wryly, "Exactly. Because allowing him to do that is a way of discarding him."

"Yes, but what I mean is she wouldn't do it immediately, you know? There's a letter that has to be written first, and the proper death location selected, and... er..." Cinnamon sighs, shaking her head, "Okay, I'm icking myself out here -- just gonna stop now! Anyways, Shaney, that's what Elias asked me to pass on to you. Is that okay?" Shane nods and tips his head toward the door, inviting Thorn along, face set into a grim expression. Cinnamon hugs Shane and Thorn, then patters back to the Council table. She has some thinking to do, and some notes to make to herself... because she's starting to think more and more that Jaeger is right, and the 'classic' 13th Chair is still very much needed. Thorn nods to Shane, following him out.

Out in the street, Shane loosens his EDC (or 'every day carry') sword in its scabbard, and also makes sure the little thumb straps on his various daggers are unsnapped. He glances at Thorn, "I don't actually expect a fight, but better safe and all that, yeah?"

Thorn nods, looking around, "Makes sense to me. Council meeting nights always have surprises going on."

Shane snorts, "That's the understatement of the fuckin' century." His eyes are scanning the street; he nods toward where he can see the stragglers of Aoi's party.

Thorn looks off after towards where Aoi's people are heading off, and sighs a bit. "I think you and Cinnamon are right," he says. "We won't hear anything about the secretary for another day or so." He glances to Shane, "I admit, I'm worried about Jalil's plan. There's... something more to it, I'm certain... but you've heard him speak about it."

Shane nods, smiling wryly, "I have... and it feels true. But he's a djinn. He could be saying all the right things and leaving all the wrong ones out." When all Aoi's people seem to safely turn into the entrance to her garden, Shane relaxes and heads on to get the mead from Elias' apartment. He grabs enough that there'll be at least a small glass for anyone that wants some.

Earlier, when Cinnamon arrives back at the council table, it's (possibly unsurprisingly, given how much he seems to notice without appearing to) Sparrow who asks with a lazy smile on his face, "So... Marcus..."

Cinnamon blinks at Sparrow, pushing her glasses up, "Um, yes?"

Sparrow leans back against the council table, crossing his arms over his chest and with his lips quirked upward, "You near bit his head off over there... and he actually looked like he was tryin' to be polite for once." He tips his head to the side, "He do somethin' so underhanded it's completely and forever unforgivable?"

Cinnamon gives Sparrow a wry glance, "Uh-huh. Sparrow, the guy abandoned me at a public event so I had to get a Lyft home... then invited me out yet again to literally tell me we weren't a good match, and any special regard was misguided. I've been politely trying to keep my distance, but that doesn't mean he gets to effectively herd me around the room or something just because he feels like being where I need to go!" She smiles wryly and shrugs, "I don't think he's upset with you, though, so you shouldn't have any problem in talking with him if you want? Good luck, if so." It simply doesn't occur to Cinnamon that Marcus might feel at all grateful for his rescue, or anything similar... she just settles in her chair and picks up her notebook, adding distractedly, "Need to make a few notes here, please, okay? But happy to talk more later, if you want..."

Sparrow's brows arch, "Darlin', are you talkin' about when he walked up behind you?" He glances over to where Marcus is back in his own seat, brow furrowed over his own journal. The embodiment of Coyote nods and pushes to his feet, "Later, then," and makes his way over to the Germanic elf.

Cinnamon glances curiously at Sparrow, wondering what that was all about... was he trying to find out the gossip on Marcus' disappearance or something? Well, if so, better that he talk to the source -- Marcus himself. Over at Marcus' seat, he and Sparrow are speaking, but Sparrow's back is now to Cinnamon. She nods once to herself, and goes back to thinking hard and making notes. Hopefully Shane and Thorn will return soon with the drink-stuff, everyone can have a sip, and they can all get on with the meeting... because she's starting to feel a little bit stressy about whether or not she should accept the land allocations Jalil's suggesting!

The little mouse-deer tippity-taps her way over to Cinnamon, big liquid black eyes curious, "This that you write? What is it?"

Cinnamon looks up at Zaituna and smiles a bit anxiously, "It's, um... well, I've recently discovered that my greatsire Liam, who used to be the 13th Chair, was more... um, that originally, the chair was supposed to be both impartial, but caring about everyone... like, he'd go wherever there was an issue, you know? So... so I'm wondering if I'm... if I should be more focusing on all the supernaturals rather than j-just the ones -- the, um, the Unrepresented -- the dispossessed, you know?" She sighs, looking down at her hastily scribbled notes, "So... I've been doing a sort of pros and cons list. I initially thought there'd be no way that folks weren't taking care of their own people, but... just in the time I've been here -- less than a year, you know? -- I... there've been three instances where supernaturals really needed help, and their reps either didn't know about it or, as in your case, weren't, umm..."

Zaituna's little head bobs, "Your grandsire was also a dragon, yes? With red hair and much stature?"

Cinnamon pauses, trying to figure out how to politely say that Aoi was blowing off people she was supposed to support and protect... "Well... that it was an issu- uh, w-what? Oh! Yes." She sighs softly, "Yes, Liam was... quite something. I wish I could've met him." Zaituna bobs her delicate little head and looks as if she might be going to say something else -- but that's when Shane and Thorn return. Cinnamon glances over too... then smiles at the little mouse-deer, "Oh, they're back! You can have a celebratory glass of Elias' mead now." She closes her little notepad, setting it down so she can participate too. There's a bit of bustle as the mead is served around, giving people time to stretch and the councilors time to speak with each other and (in some cases) their staff.

Shane comes to lean against the table by Cinnamon and rub a finger between her brows, "Still worried, acushla?"

Cinnamon smiles wryly up at Shane and nods once. Her thoughts are still kind of a tumbling mess... she wishes she could just hug Shane. She hopes the council meeting resumes soon. She wonders who, if anyone, will represent Aoi today. She hopes no one asks her to drink any of the mead. She hopes she doesn't disappoint her new people, and that none of the issues in the twenty or so letters are truly, horribly ghastly. She hopes Sparrow's not mad at her about Marcus, or something. She wonders if she's worrying too mu- well, no -- she knows the answer to that one! If she's at all worried, the answer is just 'yes.' However, just as Shane is about to open his mouth and ask her to expound, the meeting is called back to order. He leans down and kisses her cheek, murmuring assurance before he returns to his seat with Thorn. Cinnamon sighs, relaxing a little. Yes, she's worried... but Shaney likes her! That little bit of encouragement helps her smile more sincerely as she looks around the table to see who's still there.

All the councilors get settled and Marcus takes a deep breath... then pushes to his feet, "This proposal brings us to another point for this meeting. Jalil's suggested redistribution of territories." Cinnamon freezes in shock -- oh, no! Marcus is going to start it right away?! She glances hastily back at Aoi's chair to see who (if anyone) is there -- uh-oh, no one is. Zaituna is once again in her translator's arms, but she looks quite interested. Marcus looks serious -- actually, rather troubled, "Our esteemed visitors have brought to light a grievous issue. So before we do a wholesale redistribution, we should perhaps vote on the issue of transferring stewardship of their territories to Cinnamon." Cinnamon sighs and relaxes -- okay, this isn't what she feared. She's curious as to what Marcus hopes to accomplish here, though... so she watches silently. Hmm... could he have decided he doesn't like her having so much territory? Will he want southern Europe back?

Marcus is not looking around the table, but rather at his journal, brows furrowed, "It also brings up the thought of other territories whose stewards have not dealt fairly or respectfully with them." He takes a deep breath and lets it out, before adding, "A situation I, sadly, have contributed to. But for now, I bring the motion that the territories represented by the honored ambassadors be transferred into the stewardship of Cinnamon, the Thirteenth Chair." Cinnamon blinks at that. Well! That was... oddly respectful of Marcus! Maybe things will be a little better for him in the future, with his people? Though... hm. Cinnamon does not feel it would be right for her to second a motion to give herself more territories... so she remains silent, glancing around to see if anyone seconds.

Sparrow drawls, "I second the motion." There's some murmuring of surprise; Sparrow and Marcus are not normally buddy-buddy, or even in close accord.

Marcus nods unsurprisedly, "All for?" Around the table, every hand goes up. Cinnamon raises her own hand too, naturally -- she can't not vote for poor Zaituna and friends to be represented, after all! She's quietly curious, though, as to whether Marcus and Sparrow planned- no, wait, they couldn't have before the meeting. No one knew about the little delegation before their arrival... did they? Hmm... odd. Thorn is also a little surprised that Sparrow and Marcus are in accord. Still, Marcus has been acting... differently since his rescue. However, Thorn doesn't have any skill in psychology, of course, so he can't tell what might have changed. But maybe the experience of being amongst the unhoused... maybe that changed the elf somewhat?

Marcus nods, "With the absence of the Asian councilor, and her vocal indication that she does not oppose the motion, it passes unanimously. The territory will be transferred to the stewardship of Cinnamon, the Thirteenth Chair... who will take amazing care of them, as she does everything and everyone under her care." Cinnamon blinks as a sudden, very startling thought occurs to her: could Marcus be starting to... to maybe think more like Sparrow? That thought, however, nearly flies out of her head in shock -- as she actually hears Marcus... say something nice about her?!

Up in the audience, Thorn's brain too comes to a screeching stop, and he blinks. Did... did Marcus just compliment Cinnamon?! Shane mutters, "Holy fuck... he meant that! He fuckin' well meant that." His eyes are wide as he leans forward, jaw-dropped.

Thorn murmurs to Shane, "I knew the, uh, time he was missing would have affected him -- just not this much!"

Back at the council table, Cinnamon gives the Germanic elf a rather startled look before hastily stuttering out, "Wh- uh, oh! I, ah, th-thank you so much!"

Once again, Sparrow slaps a hand against the table, "Hear, hear. Damn right she does."

Cinnamon almost visibly yanks her scattered brain back together, shaking her head sharply once before she takes a deep breath and smiles at Zaituna and friends. She hopes they consider this a victory, and that she'll be sufficient to... to take good care- whoa! She jumps slightly at Sparrow's reaction, and her eyes widen, "Uhh... w-wow... thanks, you guys!"

Marcus inclines his head to Cinnamon with a small, almost nervous smile, "It is simply the truth." He's still standing and looking around, and his mouth opens as if he's going to say something... but then Zaituna is set back down on the table.

The little mouse-deer speaks, once again, in Malay, "I wish to bring a question."

Cinnamon blinks again, turning to look inquiringly at Zaituna, "Yes?" Fortunately her training is good enough that she reflexively translates for everyone else as well. A heartbeat later she blinks again, though, wondering if she did the wrong thing there. Can outside persons just step in, or what?

Marcus looks curious, "The honored ambassador has the floor." Cinnamon sighs softly in relief -- okay, she did the right thing!

Zaituna steps delicately to the middle of the table, "We did just strongly petition for our territory to be counted in with Oceania. But when I was very young -- somewhat more than a century ago -- I went with my parents to a meeting. Some faces here are familiar from then. But the Thirteenth Chair was different... and not only because of the person occupying it." Cinnamon sighs, looking down at her hands and feeling a bit inadequate. Times like this, she really wishes she could have known Liam... so she could learn more how to do this often-confusing job better! Zaituna continues, "The dragon that held the chair at that time was different in age and sex, but not in his desire to help people. He was most benevolent... and his job at the time was not as a steward of one territory... but of all territories. The job then of the Thirteenth Chair was different -- not more important, but different. It was to serve as the impartial councilor for grievances and worries to be brought to."

Cinnamon sighs softly again, nodding once to herself. The more she hears about this, the more she's slowly becoming slowly sure... that she needs to apologize to Jalil because she needs to ask the Council itself: should the 13th Chair go back to its original job? Do they feel they need that still? Because if that's what they want her to do... then she wants to be there for all the supernaturals. As the little dragon ponders, Zaituna continues, "If there is already discussion of redistributing territory and the current honored Thirteenth Chair is known for her care and concern, would it be wise to consider that, with this redistribution, her responsibilities revert to the original? It would perhaps prevent things such as our predicament."

There's murmuring around the audience. Shane smiles, leaning back, "Well... it wouldn't be a terrible idea."

Thorn nods slowly, "It'd certainly play to her strengths...."

Cinnamon finishes translating, then takes a deep breath and sighs it out... then speaks as steadily as she can, "I, ahh... I've been... struggling with this, actually. I'm glad Zaituna brought it up, because... b-because I, I wanted to ask you all -- all you councilmembers, I mean: what do you feel we most need? W-would we be better off having me be more... more available for situations that come up like this? Or can I do the most good in some other way... like the reallocations Jalil's talking about?" She turns to Jalil, adding with a tremulous but genuine smile, "It was so -- so incredibly encouraging to see that you and Nasteexo and Snow all have such faith in me! I don't want to belittle that at all... and I do think maybe evening out the territories a bit could be a really good and helpful thing. But... but I guess I'd like to take a moment here, and ask you all to, um... to tell me or vote or something: should the 13th Chair go back more to what Liam did?"

Marcus nods thoughtfully, "The floor is open for discussion."

Immediately, Elias leans forward and smiles softly, "Your grandfather would be very proud of you following in his footsteps on this, Cinnamon. Having a truly impartial Thirteenth Chair means people have someone they can come to, who doesn't have other motives or priorities... someone who can travel to places which are having problems to see what may need to be improved. It sets a check -- to make sure everyone is doing their job as stewards." There's some murmuring and nodding. Cinnamon blushes at Elias' words, shyly thanking him before she continues her translation duties. There's a little bit of a smile still on her lips as she does so, though. Approbation from someone she deeply respects is very encouraging!

Next to speak is... Marcus; he takes a deep breath, "I am not old enough to remember when the Thirteenth Chair had different duties than now. I inherited my father's seat when he was grievously injured -- and it was Cinnamon who found out who did it. She assisted a territory that was not hers -- several, actually -- simply because it was the right thing to do. Sadly, I also..." he takes a deep breath, "I also had a territory that asked to be transferred to someone else's stewardship. This now troubles me. Perhaps if there had been someone with the duty to simply listen, mediate, and help find better solutions, this would not have happened."

Cinnamon's glance at Marcus is a bit startled. What's this, the third time today he's been... unexpectedly thoughtful? She's not the only one staring, too. Up in the audience, Shane isn't quite scowling, but he looks shocked as he mutters, "Are we in the Twilight Zone, Thorn? Do we need to look for pods?" He rubs his face with a sigh, "I'm not sure I can deal with humble, thoughtful Marcus." The healer grins wryly.

At the table, Hilde stands and tips her head thoughtfully, "I'm also a newer councilor, but I think impartiality would be good. We would need to make sure there is a way for grievances to be brought discreetly to Cinnamon, too... so there's no fear of retaliation." The little dragon nods thoughtfully -- that's a good point! Hm... letters, maybe? She shelves that pondering for later, though -- right now she's fully occupied translating and listening... and hopefully learning good things, too!

It's Sparrow who adds, "I'm newish, but I speak with Lark a lot. I've learned what she experienced, and what the council was like before -- an' I love this fuckin' idea! As for communication, I think drop-points might work, with someone chosen and paid by the council to make a circuit and check them... someone also impartial." Cinnamon grins suddenly at Sparrow -- she's going to guess she knows who he'll suggest! She can't help a small, proud glance Shane-wards, as she's translating. She makes a mental note to look up what a drop-point is too, though.

Josie tips her head, "Who do you suggest?"

Sparrow grins, suspecting he knows who everyone thinks he has in mind, "Baird." Cinnamon looks a bit surprised -- huh! Okay, she missed that one. She's not sure Baird's going to want to be a simple courier, though, considering the guy apparently routinely organized and ran/runs extremely complex international missions. Still... she's been surprised before, so. Sparrow leans back in his chair, feet once again on the table, "I mean, Shane's already being paid as Cinnamon's assistant. He can't be off gallivantin' around the globe checking drop points. But a human who knows how to get in and out of places discreetly and mostly unseen? Whose allegiance isn't to any territory in particular, and who knows about our world? Plus, who can keep a secret like nobody's fuckin' business?"

Thorn blinks, and wonders how Baird would like to be part of an international organization like this... and moreover how Liam handled this sort of thing! Cinnamon looks faintly perplexed. Drop points around the entire globe?! Wow... this is getting... weird! She wonders how Liam handled things... then wonders again: how does Sparrow know Baird so well? As far as Cinnamon knows, they've not even been introduced!

Jalil rubs his chin, "But this Baird, he runs other jobs, yes? Why would he do this?"

"Because he has someone he wants to keep safe who is part of our world," Sparrow grins, "-and because this is something that can be done between other jobs." Cinnamon wonders who's blabbing about Baird's missions. She suspects Baird himself is not going to be pleased to realize this!

Up in the audience gallery, Shane's brows keep going higher. Sparrow hasn't met Baird, but the Trickster spirit has apparently been keeping his ears to the ground! Of course, he's heard the stories about their time in Bulgaria... and about the necklace. Damn. Thorn leans over to Shane, murmuring humorously, "Baird's legend grows, apparently."

At the council table, Jarek grumbles, "And why not just letters? Why not simply do this a simple way?"

Sparrow chuckles, "Okay. Tell me how the Rainbow Serpent's gonna get a letter out? Or some of the spirits that live deep in the Amazon?" He shrugs, "Maybe there's a simpler way, or someone else to suggest. But a human isn't restricted by steel or running water or anything like that." Cinnamon is starting to look confused, now. If not a letter, what goes into a drop-point? She starts to reach for her tablet to look up what a drop-point actually is... but then realizes that would be rude. Still... the answer seems pretty obvious to her -- do the same thing she did! Get someone else to be your hands, right? Which also begs the question: what on earth is Sparrow thinking of, as the means of communication?! It can't be Morse code or... or nautical flag language, after all... are there physical objects that can somehow be... 'imprinted' or something with thoughts?!

Aisling looks interested, "So, locations that humans wouldn't notice or be aware of, that supernaturals could anonymously and discreetly leave messages?" Her eyes twinkle, "The last people I knew that did that were lovers trying to keep their trysts secret." Cinnamon blushes and sighs. Oh, she so does not need any insinuations like that right now! She wishes Ash would stick to the actual question re what the 13th Chair should do. She also hopes Shane doesn't take this wrong... mostly because she still hasn't quite grasped how lacking in jealousy Shane is. Aisling beams, "I love this idea! It would keep supernatural business out of the human postal service. It's a simple idea to explain, 'If you need assistance and you do not have a way of having a courier reach the council, leave a message at this location'... and it allows for anonymity for anyone that might be worried about their identity being known."

Cinnamon frowns a bit worriedly. If there's actually someone afraid of that kind of repercussion from their council representative, though, then shouldn't that be known and addressed? Unless... oh, right. Maybe the person is actually afraid of repercussions from other supernaturals, got it. Though... hmm. It's going to be a pain in the butt to set up all those drop points... everywhere from Paris to within the deep Amazon jungle or the Australian Outback... maybe in the ocean... golly, how many will they need?! She can't imagine Baird wants to go to all those places every year, too... but they don't want messages in remote drop points going lost for years, so... Cinnamon sighs wryly. Well, she can fly, at least... no. Wait. She's doing this wrong. Cinnamon raises her hand and politely says, "Excuse me, please? I don't wish to be rude, but I'd really prefer we focus first on just the question at hand, which is whether the 13th Chair should be like it was with Liam? Please?"

Aisling ohs! "I think it would be wonderful. I am old enough to remember when the Thirteenth Chair did what we're discussing. I think it would be something you'd excel at. You've got a strong sense of justice and empathy."

Cinnamon blushes hotly, but manages to get out a slightly squeaky, "Oh! Th-thank you... um, n-next?"

Around the table, people are looking thoughtful, but no one is speaking up immediately. Then Nasteexo begins speaking, and their interpreter translates, "This would be a good thing to have. Do we need to speak further, or shall we vote now?"

Cinnamon nods to Nasteexo, "I'm good either way. Mostly I want to know what the Council needs most, you know?"

It's Marcus again who agrees, "I think we need what we used to have: someone to speak impartially and be the voice of anyone that needs that voice. Someone whose care can encompass a world... and I think that person could very well be you." Cinnamon wonders if, by this point, her face is so red that it's lighting up the room -- good golly, why is Marcus being so nice?!

Josie smiles what might be a terrifying smile to someone that's not used to a 7' tall wolf shifter who is really more like a Golden Retriever, and she's wagging like mad, "I move that the Thirteenth Chair's responsibilities revert to the original intentions!" Cinnamon giggles at the immense wagging -- though she's still feeling a bit self-conscious. She really kinda hopes this passes unanimously, too. She doesn't really want any enemies on the Council.

Aisling beams, "Oh! Oh! I second!"

Marcus is raising his own hand even as he says, "All those for..." Hands are going up all around the table before he even finishes. Every hand is up save Cinnamon's.

Cinnamon sighs in relief, unwittingly beaming at everyone as she looks around the table, "Thank you all so much! I really want to do what's actually needed, right?" She grins wryly as she adds, "For now I'll talk to Llewellyn about a postal box, and we can worry about more elaborate communication means later, okay?" She thinks for a moment, then adds earnestly, "That said... I really do think Jalil's idea is a good one -- evening out the sheer number of folks each of you people are all responsible for just makes good sense to me! Can we talk about that too at some point? It doesn't have to be this meeting, but sometime soon, please?"

Hilde grins, "Well, we're gonna have to redistribute anyway now, babe, because you're going to be busy keeping us all in line!" She winks to let Cinnamon know she's joking, and the little dragon giggles... only a little nervously! Hilde adds, "Motion to table the redistribution of territories until the next meeting?" Then she leans to her right and asks Aisling, "Where is the next meeting?" Elias seconds the motions and every hand goes up again. Cinnamon raises hers as well -- though she's also very interestedly listening to hear where the next meeting is.

Jarek rumbles almost crossly, "It is here again. I am hosting it."

Cinnamon covers her grin at that, somehow suspecting Jarek wants a place where he can continue to wear his wool suits -- unlike the rez! She's not sure how cold Boston will be in June, though... well, time will tell, she supposes! The little dragon sighs and relaxes a bit. This really worked out well, she thinks! She's still beaming delightedly... at least until she remembers she has a request for Caradog. Oh, fooie, that's right: he didn't come to this meeting! Drat. That means she'll have to... ugh, make an appointment with him... at the palace, yikes! Uuuuuugh! Maybe... maybe she can talk Shane or Aisling into going with her?

Sparrow grins, "Motion to dismiss?" and Aisling again sings out, "Seconded!" This one also passes unanimously. Cinnamon giggles at both Sparrow's and Aisling's enthusiasm, as she too votes aye... and then she glances up behind herself, where Caradog usually sits. Is it still empty? Yep... Caradog apparently stayed away the entire meeting. Cinnamon huhs silently to herself -- odd! Well, she has a few other folks she'd still like to talk to here, right now. She needs to ask the delegation if they have a place to stay, and she'd like to ask Jalil and Marcus why their votes were for 'conceal' -- oh, and why an abstention for Nasteexo.

The delegation is nearby; people are mostly simply milling about a bit. Marcus, for example, is speaking quietly with Jalil. Cinnamon smiles at the little mouse-deer, asking in Malay, "Zaituna, do you all have a place to stay while you're here? Or would you like some help finding a place?"

Zaituna bobs her tiny head, "We have rooms at a very loud and friendly place called a pub."

Cinnamon beams, "Oh, excellent! Yeah, they're good folks. Okay, is there anything else you need while you're here? Can I get copies of all the letters, too? Or at least the ones that are still an issue, I guess... I mean, the really old ones may be moot by now, yes/no?"

Zaituna flutes, "Some of the old ones are sadly still an issue, but we are happy to give you copies. We brought two copies each of the letters, in case they were needed."

Cinnamon beams, "Oh, fabulous! Can I get copies now, please? I can read them tonight and talk to you about them tomorr- wait, I'm booked for tomorrow. Is the day after okay?" The little dragon receives the photocopies -- not nearly as lovely as the calligraphy of the originals, but hand-written copies could have been misconstrued or written differently. However, she's not worried about receiving copies -- she actually prefers that since, as she cheerfully notes to the delegation, now she can make notes in the margins and not feel guilty! After talking with them, the little dragon looks around thoughtfully. Are either Jalil or Nasteexo -- er, and Marcus too, right -- available?

Marcus is still here speaking with Jalil. Nasteexo, however, seems to have slipped out. Cinnamon grins wryly to herself -- Nasteexo and Dejiyo sure tend to take off quickly! Well, they do have to let their people go have time off, so it makes sense. Okay, good -- Marcus is with Jalil, so Cinnamon doesn't have to be around him alone. She takes a deep breath, sighs it slowly out to relax herself... then walks over and smiles at Jalil and Marcus, "Hi! Is this a private discussion, or can I butt in a bit?" She finds, halfway over to Marcus and Jalil, that she's acquired a Shane-shaped shadow too! He rests a hand lightly on the small of her back as Jalil smiles warmly, "Of course you may join us!"

Marcus looks a bit tired as he too smiles and nods, "Please. Join us."

Cinnamon beams up at Shane, then smiles at the other two men, "Thank you! Um, I want to start by saying if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, okay? But... I was wondering what made you both change your votes to conceal instead of reveal... if that's okay to ask?"

After a moment's thought, Jalil replies, "With my proposed changes, it will be safer for now to stay hidden. Too many upheavals at once is bad... dangerous -- and, just perhaps, humans are not ready."

Cinnamon nods interestedly to Jalil, then smiles ruefully, "Oh, yeah. One explosion at a time, right?" She giggles, then turns to listen as Marcus starts talking too... and feels obscurely relieved that Shane's standing between her and Marcus. Wait, that's... that's a weird thought -- focus! Got to listen...

Marcus waits for them both to finish before he adds, "I have come to understand..." he takes a deep breath, "just how unsafe it is out there for us."

Cinnamon gives the Germanic elf a genuine -- and also wryly sympathetic -- smile, "Oh, Marcus. I'm so sorry your understanding came at such a cost, dude. I hope you're feeling better, at least... oh! Also, tomorrow Shane and I are going to go bring Andreas and Tre onto the street! So you don't need to worry about them either, okay?"

Marcus isn't quite smiling; he mostly looks tired, "Good. They... they were very kind to me." Shane looks a little nonplussed, as he stands with his arm about Cinnamon's waist. He protectively tugs the little dragon in against his side as Marcus adds a little tightly, "And... any wounds I had are healed. I... you were both very kind to help me find my way home again." He sighs again, "Speaking of home... I shall head that way. It has been a long day."

Cinnamon tilts her head puzzledly as she watches Marcus and wonders: what's still wrong with the poor guy? He looks... well, almost exhausted? "Of course, Marcus. Get some rest and feel better, I hope." She finds herself wishing there was... oh, like a little wagon or cart or something that could be called, on Coblyn, to help folks that need a lift home. She remembers after the attack on the Council, she'd been exhausted too, after all. She watches Marcus depart, then glances at Shane and Jalil, "What do you think...? -- oh, wait. Could he maybe... be having nightmares or something?"

Jalil considers, "It is possible. Trauma can cause this... and I understand that what happened was very difficult."

Shane nods slowly, "It's even likely. PTSD." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, "Acushla, everything he said about you during that meeting? He meant all of it."

Cinnamon nods gravely to Jalil... then blinks up at Shane. She sighs thoughtfully, considering his words... then shakes her head, "That's so... odd to me! Especially after all he said and did to me before." She considers a bit more... but then shakes her head, "Well, I'll think about it more later -- right now it's really late, and I'm hungry!" She grins cheerfully, "Dinner at my place? Got some fresh made french onion soup heating in the crockpot!"

Just then Cinnamon notices Sparrow talking with others, and she hastily adds, "Oh! Wait -- moment, please -- gotta ask Sparrow a quick question, okay? Be right back!" She patters quickly over, waiting for a pause in the conversation Sparrow and others are having -- then she asks a bit worriedly, "Sparrow? I hope I didn't offend you, earlier! I didn't mean to cut you off -- I was just head-full of thinkies about being the 13th Chair, and I wanted to write down a pros and cons list to see if I could work up the nerve to ask everyone about it. So, um... so I'm sorry about that, and what were you trying to tell me before, please?"

Sparrow chuckles, "Darlin', I am actually exceptionally difficult to truly and completely offend." He nods to the people he's talking with, "If y'all will excuse us." He puts a hand gently on the small of Cinnamon's back and guides her to a quiet corner of the room.

Cinnamon blinks uncertainly, pushing up her glasses as she follows Sparrow's guide, "Uhh... I didn't mean to interrupt your, um..." She glances back at the departing folks -- but then mentally shrugs. Sparrow's a lot more confident than her, so... if he didn't want his conversation interrupted by her, she's going to guess he wouldn't have allowed it! She grins ruefully to herself, wondering if she'll ever be that confident... probably not, but... well, she's working on it! She's better than she was when she came here, after all, right? Cinnamon smiles up at the Trickster, "So what's up?"

Sparrow smiles, "I was askin' before if he's done something completely and utterly irredeemable... because, sugar, what I saw wasn't a fella tryin' to herd you around. He was tryin' to get your attention."

Cinnamon tilts her head as she stares perplexedly up at Sparrow... then glances towards the door. Marcus, of course, is long gone. She looks back up at Sparrow and says simply, "Then I'm glad I walked away. It would've been horrible to be humiliated by him yet again... and this time in front of the Council."

Sparrow leans back against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest, head tilted in an almost avian way, "Cinnamon, I heard the things he said about you. I don't have Shane's abilities, but I got a real good bullshit meter. I ain't gonna tell you to forgive him for his slights. But I'm gonna tell you that trauma fucks people up, but it can also fix some of the shit in their heads."

Cinnamon gives Sparrow a slightly dubious look, but replies politely, "If that's what happened to Marcus, I'm still not sure a high-stress situation like here is the best place to tell me that, y'know?" She pauses, then politely tries to explain a bit more, "I mean... well, look at you. If someone dumped you, I bet you'd be like, umm..." She thinks a bit, then hazards the guess: "Like: that's a bummer, but I'll just go try to find a different girl, right?" She sighs, glancing away and absently twisting her fingers together as she nearly mumbles, "I... 'fraid I'm not that confident. Sorry."

Sparrow reaches to gently cup Cinnamon's face, brushing a thumb softly over her cheek. It's not a flirtatious gesture, somehow -- simply an affectionate and calming one, "You'll get there. I'm just speaking from a place of a person that has seen many people go through trauma." His lips quirk on one side, "Being sensitive to triggering people has fucked with some folks' heads, let me tell you -- and no, I am not immune to heartache. Being dumped implies some kind of emotional investment. If something split me and Kestrel? I'd be heartbroken. If something happened to a casual fling? That's different."

Cinnamon sighs and shakes her head, "See, that's where we're different, Sparrow. You've had casual flings and stuff." She pauses, then adds a bit confusedly, "Though... what do you mean by triggering people, er... messing up their heads, please? Whose heads? The triggerer or the, um... triggeree? Er... is that even a thing?"

Sparrow smiles, "I'm sensitive to when I've stepped into the middle of trauma. And when I apologize about it or am careful to stay away from something that triggers a person, those that don't know me well are confused. They seem to think my entire personality is "asshole" rather than "sacred clown.""

Cinnamon frowns as she carefully thinks that one through... then she hesitantly asks, "So you... or no, wait. Are you saying... I... triggered Marcus?!" She considers that possibility... then shakes her head hard. No way she's going to take responsibility for all the heartache and sleepless nights and tears Marcus has put her through! Firmly she mutters to herself, "No. That is just stupid!"

Sparrow shakes his head and smiles, "No. I'm sayin' he triggered you. But I'm also sayin' that he's likely dealing with some mindfuckery right now, and he may be goin' through some really painful personal growth. No one ever wants to face up to the fact that they've been a shitheel." He quickly adds, "Forgiveness is not a fuckin' requirement, sugar. But it might be good to start lookin' through multiple lenses -- not just the one. Because, darlin', you are too goddamned amazin' to keep seein' yourself through a warped lens."

Cinnamon sighs again, this time in relief, "Oh! Okay." She considers that too... then finally says, "Well... good, I guess? But I still don't really want to be near him. It's just... always painful, you know?" She gives Sparrow a small smile as she adds, "Okay, I feel better, then. I was worried I'd cut you off accidentally on something important to you." She lightly pats his arm, adding reassuringly (or so she believes), "Don't worry. I don't let Marcus determine how I see myself anymore. But now I'm gonna go have some dinner, since it's almost midnight already and I've gotta get up early-ish tomorrow. So -- oh! Also, let me know if I can help with catching that hunter, later, okay? Happy to be of assistance if I can." She grins up at the Trickster, pushing her glasses up as she patters off, "Night!"

Sparrow smiles and wraps Cinnamon in a hug if she lets him, "I'd love the help. Kestrel's a little twitchy but mostly recovered." Then he lets her go.

Cinnamon gravely replies to Sparrow, after the hug, "Please let me know if I can help them at all too, okay?" When he nods, she smiles and turns -- and spots Diarmaid. Excellent! She patters off towards him; hopefully Shane won't mind her taking a moment to clear up some things? As she approaches the big Fomorian, she calls hopefully, "Diarmaid? Can I ask you a quick question, please?"

Diarmaid has been mostly lurking around the doors, as a good guard should. He looks toward Cinnamon, "Of course."

Cinnamon looks pleased, "Can you tell me where I can find the, er, hoof-care guy that you all must have at the palace, please? I've noticed your hooves -- um, do you call them hooves? Er, that they're, um... very nicely cared for? Like, shiny and smooth and all, and I figured that's how they're supposed to look, right? So, uhh... s-so tomorrow I'm bringing a hooved guy onto Coblyn, and he's been homeless in Boston because of the call for supernaturals and I'd like to make an appointment for him to get his hooves looked at too and I was hoping you could tell me how to do that, please?" She takes a deep breath after blurting it all out... then turns slightly pink, "Um, s-sorry! I kinda run on sometimes when I'm nervous... sorry..."

Diarmaid blinks slowly, "The farrier? I mean, he works on us two-leggers as well, but he still calls himself a farrier. He works out of the stables, but has a station set aside that's a lot less..." Lorcan has wandered up; he grins, "It's set up almost like the human pedicure stations. No stray hay or manure. Rather posh, actually."

Cinnamon brightens, "Oh, really? Awesome! So how do I get someone an appointment then, please? Can I maybe get one for tomorrow, maybe? Where is it, too?"

Diarmaid rumbles, "You can send a message to him at the palace -- his name is Hu -- and let him know what sort of hoof it'll be. Split hooves are different than, say, a horse's hoof."

Cinnamon considers thoughtfully, "I think... a horse hoof? Those are the round ones with a break in the back, right? Not like, um... not like yours, Diarmaid, right?"

Diarmaid nods, "Indeed. My trotters are split-toed, and the satyrs have split hooves too. Iason's got standard equine hooves."

Cinnamon beams, "Got it! Okay, these are horse hooves then. I'll send one of the runners around tomorrow morning, then. Thank you both so much!" She hugs both men (fortunately they're comfortable with that), then patters off to find Shane.

Shortly thereafter they're having a tasty dinner of savory French onion soup and homemade bread, as the little dragon burbles happily about her plans regarding bringing Andreas and Tre onto the street tomorrow. She cheerfully offers to cuddle with Shane that night too, if he'd like, so they can start bright and early. Shane is quite happy to listen to Cinnamon's burblings, and he grins a little impishly at the cuddle offer, "Well, since it's just me and thee tonight..." He nods at her little loft, "Would you rather sleep up there than tangle up down here?"

Cinnamon blinks a bit confusedly at Shane, "You... don't want to cuddle?" She knows Shane knows her little loft bed is quite small, after all -- he carried it up there for her! So if he wants her to sleep alone in her loft... does that mean he... doesn't want to cuddle?

Shane takes Cinnamon's face in his hands and laughs softly, "I forgot your bed is tiny. I was thinking it would be a bit more private up there because Josie tends to just... show up."

Cinnamon blinks... then brightens in relief, "Oh! Okay, good... wow, you scared me for a moment! I thought you wanted the futon here downstairs all to yourself or something!" She adds unworriedly, "Besides, I saw Josie head off with Spice, so they're likely together... and even if they did come over, cuddling is lovely!"

Shane rests his forehead against Cinnamon's, his voice warm and gentle, "Acushla, if we're in the same place, the only reason I'd want to sleep separate from you is if there was some societal or health reason." He shifts his head so he can get his lips near her ears, "Oh, cuddling is wonderful, a ghr�... but having them blithely walk in on us kissing and such? You'd melt from embarrassment."

Cinnamon squeaks and blushes reflexively at that! She almost scampers off, her voice trailing over her shoulder, "Uhhhmmm g-gotta go get ready for bed be right back!" Shane laughs warmly, eyes twinkling as Cinnamon skitters off... then he retrieves a pair of shorts he keeps in his rucksack for emergencies. He puts those on, taking off his kilt and everything else. He's tired as well, so when she comes back they both snuggle up and drift off quickly. Cinnamon sighs happily as sleep overcomes her, thinking that if this is what having a boyfriend is like... she thinks it's truly awesome! It doesn't occur to her that she actually has no idea...

The next morning Cinnamon is excited! She first sends off a message via runner to Hu the farrier, then packs another picnic basket full of muffins which (she happily informs Shane) are nine-grain muffins -- she found a recipe for lots of grains, for Tre! She also heats up the remaining French onion soup and puts it into a thermos, then pulls on her bright, cheery lopapeysa, beanie, mittens, and mukluks... and then she's ready to go! Shane bundles up and goes with her. He wears pants while off Coblyn, because kilts are memorable. He also carries the things they're bringing along because, despite the fact Cinnamon can easily carry them, he assures her that Janet would have his head if he didn't carry the stuff! Cinnamon giggles at that, giving Shane a cheerful hug, "Okay, I'll remind her that I'm really strong and you don't have to do that, in our next letter exchange! But for now: thanks!" She's almost skipping next to Shane, she's so pleased -- they get to help some good folks! That makes her feel warm inside... useful and competent, even!

Shane also quietly does something else his mother taught him: unobtrusively moving so Cinnamon is on the building side of the sidewalk, and he's on the street side. He also takes full advantage of her new comfort with him, keeping his arm around her shoulder or waist the whole time they take to find Tre and Andreas. Cinnamon is almost glowing with happiness this morning, and she tends to beam up at Shane whenever his body bumps lightly against hers as they walk. When she spots Andreas waiting in the same place as last time she gasps delightedly, "There he is -- yay!" She nearly bounces towards him, waving as she goes, "Hi, Andreas! How are you? Got all your stuff? Where's Tre? You both ready? I brought some breakfast!"

Andreas nods at Cinnamon, "Everythin's all ready." He whistles sharply and Tre appears from further down the alleyway. He's a little slumped... but after having met him, it may be that his posture is a way to seem unobtrusive at his height.

Cinnamon beams as she waves at Tre also, "Hi there! I brought some muffins for you both, and there's hot soup too if you want -- oh, or we could wait and eat on the street? What do you guys want?" As the horse-hooved man comes closer, Cinnamon happily adds, "They're nine-grain muffins -- though I'm sorry, they're not fresh-baked -- I had to make them yesterday-day since I had a meeting that night. Is that okay?" She turns around from where Shane is standing with the basket, with a napkin and muffin in each hand.

Tre leans over the basket and breathes in, eyes lighting up, "Well... muffins are a portable kinda food..."

Cinnamon grins as she hands him a muffin, "Okay! We can eat and walk!" She hands the other muffin to Andreas, adding, "Want me to carry your bags?"

Tre smiles and ducks his head; he looks... young. He happily accepts the muffin, and Andreas takes the other one, while shaking his head, "Nah. Rather carry't m'self."

Tre's voice is quiet, "You get so you don't want people touchin' your stuff."

Cinnamon blinks at that... then nods in understanding, "That's fine! Okay, let's head off right away then." She beams at Shane as she's pulling out another muffin, "Thanks for carrying stuff, asthore! You want a muffin too?" She gets one for herself as well -- she's hungry by now! She happily adds, after a mouthful of muffin, "If it's the same for you guys as it was for me, it's going to be a nice relief to finally be on the street, and have the 'pull' go away!"

Shane grins down at her as he accepts his muffin, then nods at the guys, "It's literally going to seem like we're walking through a wall, but don't panic."

Tre actually grins, "Platform 9 3/4, huh?"

Cinnamon giggles and nods, "Sorta, yeah! But don't worry -- we'll walk through with you!"

Andreas just looks puzzled -- apparently he hasn't read the books or seen the movies. Tre smiles a little crookedly and puts a hand on his friend's shoulder, "We'll be good. We both appreciate this."

Cinnamon eats her muffin and hums contentedly to herself as they walk, until they get close to the street. At that point she adds to the two men, "So if you want, we talked to the innkeeper at Duille Darach, and there are two rooms for you there. They've got washer-dryers too, and tubs or showers in the bathrooms, though your rooms share a bathroom, and the pub downstairs is where you can get food. Also, if Tre wants there's a farrier we can go see -- I got an appointment for you for today if so, Tre? -- to make sure your hooves are all healthy and in good shape." Apologetically she adds, "I'm sorry, Andreas, but I don't know if you have any particular needs... but I'm happy to help you with them too, if you want?"

Shane nods, adding, "And Iason will see you both, I'm sure -- he likes to meet any new citizens of the street. He's our chirurgeon, and he's... ah..." He glances around, "Let's wait until we take this turn here..."

Andreas starts to say, "That's a wall-" -- only to have Shane walk through the apparent wall -- and then back out!

Cinnamon smiles and offers a mittened hand to Andreas, "It's okay, really! It's sort of an illusion, you know?"

Andreas takes her hand but looks nervous, "Won't people notice...?"

Shane smiles, "Nah. The illusion makes it so people don't notice it when we go in."

He offers his hand to Tre, if the other young man wants it -- but Tre shakes his head and grins in excitement, "I can do this!" He takes a deep breath, then walks beside Shane -- and apparently through a wall of apartments!

Cinnamon laughs excitedly, holding Andreas' hand in both of her mittened ones as she backs towards Coblyn, drawing him along with her, "Come on! It's wonderful, promise!" She keeps talking, hopefully distracting the nervous man slightly as they move, "Of course, I was spooked the first time since I didn't realize what was up, but you guys know so there's no problem there!" Andreas nods and keeps his eyes on Cinnamon's face until he breaches the wall -- and then his eyes widen, and he can't seem to figure out where to let his gaze land.

Tre is already standing fully upright on Coblyn Street, looking around eagerly as well. At his full height, he tops Shane's by at least three inches. He's even pulled his hat off, displaying small but distinctly equine ears. The younger of the two lost boys rubs his chest and whispers, "The pull..."

Cinnamon laughs happily again, "Isn't it nice to have that gone, Tre? Also, love your ears!" She beams at Andreas, adding, "How do you feel? Better, I hope?"

Andreas -- somewhat in opposition to Tre -- has tears in his eyes. He has to swallow a couple of times before he husks, "It's like... like comin' home..."

Cinnamon's smile warms at that, and she gently hugs the older man, "It is. Welcome home, Andreas."

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

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