(BN14) Buffet Table

Nov 13th, 2014 04:21 PM

Tessa made a mental note to ask later what a Scrivener and Adjutant exactly were. Her schooling had been rather second-hand in nature, not to mention that the animal side of her wasn't keen on learning things. So such words were foreign to her. While she was at it, she decided to ask just what a Twilit Page did as well, since while she did know the meanings of the words, she doubted Twilit Page meant Morgan was a midnight-colored piece of paper.

"Ah, screw the laws, if I need a big ass knife to keep myself protected, I'm going to buy me a big ass knife. Not some dinky pocket knife, you need something with a little more oomph. I always feel a little safer when I have a piece of metal close at hand when things go pear-shaped. But you never told me you knew Morgan, Sam. But congrats on your Page... thing, Morgan. You too Mal and Ava. I think. Those are good things, right?"

Morgan could be hard to understand at times. She stuttered and tripped over her words so often and coined many turns of phrases that made her hard to keep up with. But for Tessa, it was Catherine's flowery speech that was harder to comprehend. Given a moment, she could catch up with Morgan's speech. But it took longer for her to connect what the Artist's flowery language meant. Who used afflicted any more? And aversion, that was bad, right? Maybe, it sounded like adverse and she knew that meant things weren't going your way. She couldn't make heads or tails of acquaintance.

"Aversion to nuts? I don't think so. It kinda depends on the nut, though. Pecans can be a bit dry alone but I don't mind them in a mix. I like peanuts. But I'm not fond of water chestnuts." She hoped aversion meant you didn't like something. "You've been here a month? Well then welcome to the Freehold. It's good you found a place to stay, I have Ava to thank for my own living space. Don't get too busy, though. I'm always scrambling around to do various odd jobs but I believe it's important to find time to relax as well."

**Morgan Bellanar** · Nov 13th, 2014 09:57 PM

Morgan's smile stayed on as Ava admitted to their friendship and Catherine's sort-of-hug helped with the positive feeling. The smile did change a little through the conversation, but it stayed. Given how freely the Fairest was giving out hugs, which do help, she'd never have fit into Chicago. Morgan's question request was unanswered but they could address that later, probably. She could chat with her other, grumpier friend anyway.

The raccoon started to shrug then tilted her head in thought. She mumbled something out, "Bee Eye Aaah, Eye Aaah Bee..." then she just shook her head with a light laugh, "G-g-guess you correct Malory. N-not work as initials either, heh. A-a-and thank you. G-glad you been honored too, heh, y-you deserved honoring...um," she looked around trying to think. Then sighed as her voice went from fast and cheery to neutral with worry, "N-n-not sure how I g-got job or-or Mantle. Sssstill surprise," she snorted with a slow shake of her head. Then smiled weakly, " Heh-heh, g-guess being scared j-just as well as be scary." Which was probably why she got the "greeter" job, she'd not scare anyone away.

And then the friendly Fairest was back. She was about to speak but stopped, slack jawed as she was suddenly staring at herself. Her mouth moved but there was no sound. This kept going for a couple of seconds before: "Whoa...Um, w-well, yeah: whoa. Aaaaand, hey--that is a nice hat, heh-heh, and mega-nice-awesome p-painting, heh. You are sssssssso not a Chicago," Which was true on all accounts. Catherine had even got that little twinkle of worry Morgan saw in the mirror sometimes when she was going socializing. A name popped into her head, "Aaren...Um, heh-heh, t-t-that is Catherine you maybe want speak w-with Aaren Eloi. S-she is one of us aaaand works at Sunhawk Gallery. You be this g-g-great, maybe paying job that way, heh-heh. T-t-think I has her number if you would likes it."

Cellphones couldn't call out of the Hedge (usually) but you could still look at your phone book. She was still looking at the painting and didn't bother to correct Tessa's...misunderstanding about knives beyond saying: "Sharp be legals."

Nov 14th, 2014 04:28 PM

Catherine would certainly have got a good, clear look at Mal's yellow, lupine eyes. They flew wide as she... quite literally descended on her. Mal went white as a sheet as the colour completely drained from her face and her jaw clenched so hard tooth ground against tooth. The artist may as well have hugged a cardboard cut-out for all the feedback she got from the shocked hunterheart.

The sharp-eyed, not distracted from the overall spectacle might have noticed a pair of tiny fists, balled, white-knuckled, and shaking.

Mal did not appreciate close physical contact. It wasn't some OCD germaphobe disfunction, the scrappy little Hunterheart would tussle with anyone, literally tooth-and-nail if needs be. It was a trust thing. Allowing someone into your personal space was dangerous. And hugs were the worst. You were trapped. Pinned. A whisper of glamour, and her ribs could be crushed like dry twigs, all from such a seemingly friendly gesture.

The catalogue of 'acceptable' responses to a hug however, did not seem to include those responses that took these possibilities into account.

Recovering some of her composure, if not all of her colour, several moments after being released, Mal turned on her heel, grabbed the grabby Spring courtier by the wrist and tugged. Hard. Relying on momentum to grab her attention, and bring Catherine down to her level.

"Do not do that again." she hissed. Her voice low, her eyes and veins glowing fiercly, a growl malingering at the back of her throat underpinning the words.

Mal cringed. Feeling Ava's impending disappointment looming from behind. How was she supposed to try to be nicer when shit like this kept happening?

"...please." she added, in a bitter, resentful mutter.

Nov 14th, 2014 04:54 PM

As Catherine bent down to give Mal a hug Ava squeezed the spice cake onto the laden table with a little less care than originally intended, just in case she needed her hands in the next few moments. "Ah, I'm- glad to hear that," she said, not having listened with entirely attentive ears to the response to her question. She caught just enough to belated wonder what Coco had to do with it, but the moment was past. Maybe they were roommates, close friends, or good old fashioned drinking companions. She was sure she'd find out eventually.

The Fairest moved swiftly on to a new topic of conversation with Morgan and Sam, but the Nix's eyes were on her friend. Mal's response to the unsolicited hug was just as she might have expected, right down to the shaking. But there had been no headbutting, shoving, or loud exclamations of displeasure, which she supposed was something. Or maybe, as it turned out, those were simply symptoms of shock.

The wolf's response was sharp, and perhaps intimidating, but not cruel. Someone had unwittingly made a mistake out of some desire for physical contact, and she was redrawing the boundary line that had been scuffed. With grabbing, sharp looks, and tacked-on niceties, but that was never going to change. The moon was the moon, an elephant was an elephant, and Mal was Mal. The disappointment the Hunterheart so rightly felt rolling off the Scrivener was that the situation had come up at all, and so soon into the evening.

Without comment, she picked up a plate and began to fill it with various, delectable things.

Nov 15th, 2014 07:52 AM

Catherine’s vision blurred from a combination of pain and motion as what felt like an iron band clamped around her arm, and she was spun violently downward and to the left. She found herself scant inches from the petite brunette with the striking eyes whose features now distorted into a livid snarl, an ugly thing of pain and rage. Their eyes and skin were wreathed in the sullen glow of the forge, and Catherine could feel her eyes watering as the changeling’s stinging ire broke over her in a roiling wave as they hissed their vehemence.

Then the woman shuddered and sagged a little, seeming to diminish as her glow faded like a flame deprived of fuel. She offered a resentful supplication but did not release the Fairest’s arm. Catherine should have felt anger or surprise or, if she were sensible, fear at such a disproportionate display of aggression. Yet despite the pain in her arm she was more wounded by the look in the other woman’s eyes. She had clearly and carelessly trodden on tender feelings, though she had not realised or intended to anything of the sort, she had shaken Malory’s sense of security. She’d grown too relaxed with Morgan’s reaction and neglected to consider that not all of the Lost would be so comfortable with others pervading their personal space. Contritely she acted in the only manner she could conceive to dull the wounds she'd unwittingly inflicted.

“I.. I’m sorry Mallory.” She stuttered, her natural floridly labyrinthine circumlocution stalled by the shock of their sudden exchange. “I should have asked.” Her dry eyes welled with empathy for the patently distressed changeling.

What good humour was left to her swiftly drained away with in the wake of the realisation that she’d hurt someone carelessly and unthinkingly, as was the Gentry's wont.

Nov 17th, 2014 07:09 AM

Mal blinked in surprise, and looked down at her hands. She released Catherine's arm and staggered back a step.

Was... was this a thing that was happening?

...did she just... apologise?

She didn't get mad. She didn't shout, or freak out, or get into some you-don't-scare-me-I-do-what-I-want posturing. She fucking apologised!

Mal looked to Ava, back to Catherine, down at her hands, Ava again, Catherine, Ava, all with a distinct air of confusion and, well, desperation. What the heck was she supposed to do with an apology?! Nobody ever apologised...

"Just... don't do it again..." Mal mumbled, awkwardly. Her skin, still pale from shock starting to show a distinctly pinkish hue in places...

**Cabochard** · Nov 17th, 2014 09:45 AM

Sam blinked as he watched the whole exchange go on. The hug from Catherine froze him for a moment; touching was strange for him. He didn't even like shaking hands, let alone receiving a big hug from a strange woman. But, apparently, his reaction was the least of the group. The other woman, the little one, seemed to be very distressed by Catherine's hug. To the point of violence. He was about to step in and try to play hero when Catherine apologized and the woman looked like she'd been punched. He stepped forward, a concerned frown on his scarred face. "Uh, are you okay...?"

Nov 17th, 2014 05:44 PM

Tessa had paused her actions for a moment as Malory took abrupt offense against Catherine's friendly gesture. Her eyes focused intently on the group, her ears suddenly more keen to her surroundings now that a fight might break out. But what happened next was as surprising to the Ferret as it was to Mal. In her position, she wasn't sure if she would've shrank away or stood up to the Beast (probably the former), but she never would've thought about apologizing. I mean, Catherine was on the verge of crying and it didn't look like she was acting either. She was kinda at a loss of words at the double turnabout of the situation.

"She's okay... I think. Animal stuff. Although I don't think this was the reaction she was expecting. And neither was I."

**Morgan Bellanar** · Nov 17th, 2014 06:40 PM

Malory's angry hiss brought her out of her fugue. As soon as she heard it, the painting was left aside and a blade started to slide into her hand. But it was directed at...Catherine? Whom she was holding tight. Morgan was a little unsure of how to react at first, aside from pushing the tip of the blade hilt back up her sleeve. She wondered if she was at fault for this. She had set a bit of precedent by letting the friendly Fairest freely hug without warning. It'd seemed hypocritical to not allow since the raccoon often...offered hugs.

There is the rub: offer. Better ask permission then get a knife in the face...Saying is off but point valid. I SHOULD have warned her. What if she hugged someone spikey and surprise stabby time! Shitshitshitshit. Do something? Why me? Our fault and we are officer aren't we?! Dammit, I suck at people.

That got the guilt flowing. So she walked over to them. When she spoke her tone was contrite, "Sorry. Um, heh-heh, to both of yozz. I ssshould have given warning. When you hugged me that is," she turned to look at Cathrine, "I ssshould have warned: tis ill advised to enter personal sp-space without permissions," she looked back and forth between the Fairest and her fellow Beast, "I am c-certain sure neither one of you intended misfortune upon other. Good. Erm t-that is tis good misfortune unintended though bad it happened, heh-heh. Inflexible feelings...not intended?"

Morgan winced at how she butchered "no hard feelings." "Um...heh-heh," she gave a very awkward smile, mumbling: "I suck so hard at people stuff." Before looking around trying to think of something else to say. She just didn't know what to do next. "N-n-not really sure if-if or what I should say-do now, heh-heh-heh. Not-so-sure my but-in-help now," she rubbed the back of her head as she tried to make her awkward smile appear friendly.

**Coco** · Nov 18th, 2014 01:21 AM

"O-ho! And what is this?" came the bright call of the Spring Claviger, jogging into their midst. "If it isn't Malory Grey, accosting one of our own upon a night devoted to our defense. I did not expect such shameful behavior from you, Miss Grey. Are you not one of Summer? Are you not one who should place the defense of all before your own desires? Unless I'm mistaken, that is the life you pledged for yourself," she challenged, planting her cane at her feet and placing her gloved hands upon its head. Such an action could not be described as resting upon the head of the cane, however, for light squeaks issued from the flex of leather upon metal.

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