A Chilling Introduction

[Rhodes]

It was a miserably grey day in Sacrameno. There was a chill wind in the air. For many in California it was the gloomy realisation that summer was slowly coming to an end. For the Dread Lord of Sacramento, however, it was a wlecome herald of the change of the season approaching.

My season. MINE.

The height of Autumn's power, and in this city that meant him. Not Meg. Not Ann. Him. Rhodes. And like hell was he going to let anyone else take the Leaden Crown now it was his...

A sharp pain lanced his chest and he gasped, clutching at where the spear would was still bandaged. The Flowering took a few slow, deep breaths to steady himself. Meg's bastard minions. He wouldn't be healed for the Coronation, that would be sure, and Anatole was far worse. He focused, taking a hip flask from his pocket and taking a small drink.

Sacramento's Autumn is mine, and Ann can try and pry it form my cold, dead hands.
Oh, little flower. You've come so far. First an Ideal, then a person, now a seaon... I'm so proud of you...

Against his will, Rhodes smiled. It was his, by right. All his. Not Ophelia, not Ann, nobody could take it from him.

He checked his watch for the time.

Sera knew where he was, as was usual. The telephone call requesting a meeting had been brief, and after the success of last time the Director sought out a place where they could talk a little more freely.

He, however, looked as out of place as he ever did. An immacuale black suite, red silk shirt and tie. A hedgespun coat of menacing thunderclouds covered the ensemble.

Only those touched by Arcadia could see the flourishing laurel of leaves that encircled his head, growing straight from the scalp and from his wrists and ankles, just visible below the hem of the hleg of his pants. Scarlet flowers bloomed vividly at his wrists and temples. Eyes at least twice the size of a usual human's, and impossibly green, peered from a pale-skinned face with pointed elven ears. In places, the pale skin was breached by woody roots as if just emerging from the surface of soil. Around him, autumn leaves swirled in brown, red, orange, and gold twisting in a bitter wind no normal human would notice.

Sitting on the bench inside the entrance to Funderland, he awaited his guest.

Aeolus Gerrit

[Gerrit]

An amusement park, huh?
Gerrit was unsure what to think of that. For what it's worth, it was a form of hiding it plain sight and he could certainly see the merits of the place. Supressing a shiver - stemming more from the anticipation of meeting his contact than the chill -, he dug his hands into the pockets of the brown windbreaker that covered him from neck to his waist. His off-the-rack jeans, well worn boots and black baseball cap made him look like any other Californian enduring the cold weather. What little skin was left uncovered would have worried any normal Californian: the dropping temperature made his pale scars contrast even more next to the dark purple, green and blue bruises that painted a vivid picture across Gerrit's head and face.

Making his way past the entrance, Gerrit immediately noticed the Flowering. How could you not? Seeing the Changeling sitting on that bench made you almost come to the conclusion that the weather followed him, not the other way around.

Yeah, he's scary. But you're breathing proof of the fact that you shouldn't judge a book by it's cover, right?

Smiling at that thought, Gerrit approached the bench. "Hi. Rhodes, I suppose? I'm Gerrit."

[Rhodes]

As Gerrit approached, the wind blew coldly, whispering something just beyond his hearing.

The Dread Lord smiled, whough it lacked mirth. He stood slowly and ofered the man a hand. "That's right. Charmed."

He turned and gestured. "This way please."

The Flowering set off at a brisk walk and made for some offices behind one of the amusements. He moved slickly throught the door and turned into a room.

There were several chairs, a desk, and a set of counters with a coffee machine and a kettle. Against the far wall stood a large blackened and reddish stone on a plinth - the Director now stood next to it.

"I will be brief - Sacramento has several peculiarities that make a Freehold Pledge untenable, and so we have come to find a new way of identifying our kin from our enemies. This is a Wyrdstone - it links all of the Freehold together in a very simple sense. No binding of pledges, no ironclad rules - it simply helps us Identify our own, and marks out those loyal to the Gentry or that might intend us harm. If you wish to join our Freehold, simply lay your hand upon it and pay the tithe of magic. The Stone will do the rest. It will not harm nor track you, nor mark you as anything other than one of us... and inform myself when one of our kin leaves the city with no intent of return. Once the pact is sealed, we can discuss things in a more... civilised manner, once the groundwork of trust is put in place." "Brief" meant a different thing to the Fairest, to be sure.

Despite being indoors, the icy breeze of the Flowering's powerful Mantle meant the room was no wamrer, or perhaps even colder, than outside - the littering of leaves marking this as a place often used by the Director.

You need to place one hand on the stone, and pay the cost of 1 Glamour using the icons in the "Go Advanced" posting section. Once done, you will be an official member of the Freehold!

I would like to get this wrapped before the Autumn Coronation on the 22nd, so we may need to be reasonably quick

Tagging Saber Sloth as the Ling ST.

[Saber Sloth]

Like Xadun said if you want this in Continuity before the Autumn Equinox then you need to have the Scene End before the 22nd!

[Gerrit]

Gerrit was pleasantly surprised that the Rhodes, flowery and elaborate he may look, hardly wasted any time before getting to business. Or maybe it's just a way to intimidate newcomers. No, he shouldn't let paranoia spoil the first contact with others of his kind in this new city. After quickly shaking the Flowering's hand, Gerrit followed him while trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible.

The Wyrdstone was impressive, although since he only got to know the customs of one other Freehold since his escape he wasn't as taken aback by the change of protocol than his opposite would have expected. The cold embracing the room was welcome though - it reminded the Ogre of the numbing of sadness, of blankets of snow covering unpleasant memories and - strangely enough - of the warmth of Winter's help. This feels right. This city, this Freehold - I found a new home. Acknowledging the Flowering with a nod, Gerrit stepped forward and laid his hand onto the stone. He willed some Glamour into the pact and closed his eyes.

[Rhodes]

Rhodes nods and smiles as the magic takes a hold. Gerrit was no Loyailist, that much was certain - and always a relief.

"Well now." The Director's tone seemed far more jovial than before. "Perhaps a little introduction. I am, as you already know, Rhodes, Dread Lord of Autumn and Director of the Freehold. The posistion of Director is largely ceremonial - it allows one, i.e. myself, to take up the mantle of authority beyond one's own season, in the times when no memebrs of a court remain. We experienced such last year, for our Freehold is small, and there were no Winters that might assume the position - and the echos of the disruption of the Cycle are still being felt today. Hence, Director. Should there be no-on eof a season to take up the position of Monarch, I step in for the season, witht he undertanding that I will not overstep outside of the Season I rule." He stops, and smiles.

"If you have a need of employment or board these can be arranged. I would also happily point you in the direction of your solidales, though it mat be simplest if you simly arrive at the coronation next week. The Equinox, you know." The Flowering sits easily, and watches the Ogre. "Do you have any questions for me, or regarding the Freehold itself?"

[Gerrit]

Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but after taking his hand away from the Wyrdstone Gerrit felt a budding sense of belonging. It certainly felt less draconic than the Oath in his prior Freehold and that's a plus in his book.

Listening to Rhodes' explanation, he grew a bit concerned. Almost no winters? I wonder if this solution holds up... He kept his thoughts to himself, though - the Flowering seemed to take pride in his position. Gerrit made a mental note to talk to any other members of his court on the coming Equinox.

"Thank you. My last Freehold arranged a small apartment to live in as part of our deal and I already found a job working at a flower shop." The Ogre didn't care if he just overshared (or even if that occupation was a strange fit for a brute like him) - he took a first real step towards getting a life and he was darn proud of it. "I appreciate you meeting me on rather short notice though" then, after a moment of deliberation Gerrit went on "and I appreciate you keeping the stability in absence of a Winter Monarch. I may be new, but if there's anything I can do for the Freehold be sure to let me know."

[Rhodes]

The Flowering waves a hand casually. "Not at all, dear boy, not at all. As to helping the Freehold, I suppose it depends on your talents. I would hate to assume, but we are always a little short on solid arms." He pauses, and the icy wind of his mantle kicks up yet more leaves. "The Equinox will be a far more useful way of networking, but I can lay the grounds. Lady Circe - a navy-skinned elf - is our current Queen of Summer, and Lady Seraphina the Spring Monarch. The Onyx throne remains empty - I'm sure it will be an intriguing topic among your Courtmates, of which there are a few in the Freehold. I'm sure none of them would miss the event of the Season." If it was a pun, he doesn't miss a beat.

"Elsewise, the Autumn Coronation will be found within Edna's, the Haunted House of Funderland. A little cliche, perhaps, but it has it's own history." Emerald eyes scan the ogre's face. "I apologise for making this reasonably brisk, but I have several duties to attend to. Do you have any questions for me? If not, I sincerely hope to see you at next week's celebration..." Something about the lingering sentance made it much more a suggestion than a passive comment.

[Gerrit]

Gerrit hid his apprehension as well as he could when the topic came to violence. Who could blame him? You look like you're fresh off an epic-scale brawl. "Certainly." He made mental notes of the Monarchs and the specifics of the location, addressing the Flowering's comment with a shrug. "As I see it, sometimes it's the cliches that best hide us from Them."

This time the Ogre offered his hand - signaling that he understood Rhodes' busy schedule (he is the Dread Lord, after all) and was ready to end the meeting. "I appreciate you taking the time for this. For the moment I don't have any questions. I'm looking forward to the Equinox - I'll make sure to be there."

[Rhodes]

The Dread Lord smiles broadly, though it doesn't reach his eyes. All teeth and cold.

"Excellent. Well, in that case, I'll see you in the new season, Mr Jameson."

He gestures a hand to the door.

I'm closing it up there so we're definately ahead. Welcome to the Freehold!