Of Ice, Music, and Bad Movies

[Cassandra Reeding]

Cassandra’s apartment complex is an okay, but kinda shady looking building, but oddly off the beaten path. You go down an odd series of streets to go down that if you didn’t have a GPS to guide you, might have caused you to lose your way. The building is tall, but they’ve been instructed to go to the 3rd floor, apartment 308.


Inside, Cassandra has been preparing a little meal. Nothing too crazy, just a lasagna. She hoped it would turn out well. She needed it to. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t. Of course, she was screwed via ingredients. Damn Hedge. Normally, she’d have used the best ingredients she could have gotten, but she had to rely on what she had. She couldn’t even make real garlic bread like she had wanted to due to having barely any flour left. I knew I should’ve done that shopping trip earlier.


She sighs. Am I being too domestic? She didn’t even want to consider it. This was a meal and meeting for friends and she wanted it to be perfect, perfect ingredients or no. There was also something about hosting that made her want to deck out like this.


As she is cleaning up a memory does hit her. Strong arms around her waist and a kiss to her cheek. “Why are you working so hard, love? It’s just Blodwen.” She sighs a bit. She didn’t need to be thinking about that again. Let me just get through one evening in peace. Every day those memories bother her less and less. Perhaps it was the talk with John, getting it all out, or maybe it was the talk with Sera, reminiscing on the good times, or maybe it was the slight break down with Yamiyo, singing the wrong song and screwing it up, that helped. Either way, she was settling into being alone. Every day, she felt more and more like Cassandra Reeding - Cassandra Moore slowly fading into just an alternate identity.


She gazes over at her cello, brand new and perfectly crafted. She had been more than pleased with it, particularly the work on the scroll. Perhaps she’d get to show it off tonight. She hadn’t gotten to play it for anyone yet. That excited her.


Her outfit this evening is a black and gray, sleeveless dress with a scoop neckline and runic symbols that comes to about mid-thigh. Beneath it, she has on a pair of black opaque tights. Makeup is light tonight, just eyeliner and a tinted red lip balm to give her some color. Not that she needed it, she just liked the way it looked. Her long, scarlet hair is down with a slight curl, however they already seem to be falling out. Her hair never did hold curls.


When everything is ready, she sits down on her couch, leaning back. It had been a lot of hard work putting this together, but it was going to be worth it.

[Gerrit]

Gerrit wasn't keen on being late, in fact he was early most of the time. Given the complicated directions he he scheduled almost an extra hour just to find the house Cassandra called her home. In retrospect, that was a good call. He had to re-orient himself several times, backtracked here and there and once even asked for a certain street to anchor his navigation again.
He arrived at the address around 20 minutes early, which was fine by him. The Ogre found himself a good spot across the street and waited.

While doing so, he reflected a bit on his time in Sacramento so far. He met some of the others, but the Changelings he spent most of his time here were John and Cassandra. Yes they had their baggage, but Gerrit assumed this was true for more or less every Lost. And I like them. I really like them.
But apart from enjoying their company, they had some tings to talk about.

There was the elephant in the room about who was to become the Winter Monarch. John did seem to be the obvious candidate, but Gerrit wondered if he'd shy away from the exposed position and let the Fairest take the scepter instead.
They also had to prepare the Coronation: where to hold it, what to prepare or acquire for themselves or the guests. Apparently it's been a long time since the Freehold had a Winter Court that had more than one member, so they could make an impression there.
Lastly, they needed to take action about the Winter Hollow. Maybe the other two found out something about the earlier Court's Hollow or they'd have to get specific about carving one out.

There was a lot to discuss, and around 5 minutes before the arranged time, Gerrit moved towards the building and made his way up to Cassandra's apartment. He was wearing what he usually wore: a pair of jeans, a neutral colored sweatshirt and his windbreaker. When the hostess opened the door, he gave her a warm smile. "Hello Cassandra, thanks for having us. You look very stunning again." Indeed, her dress made him wonder if he put too little effort in his wardrobe.
Entering, he admired the tasteful interior. She put some effort into making this feel like a home. Gerrit gave Cassandra an appreciative nod as he took of his jacket. "Nice place - where can I put this? Also, smells delicious." Well, it smelled like well-made lasagna - nothing spectacular, but he wasn't one to complain.

[Cassandra Reeding]

The inside of Cassandra’s one bedroom apartment is rather nice. It’s neat and put together, lived in, even. Even though there is good organization to the place, there are a few piles of sheet music scattered about over some of the surfaces.

She opens the front door, the smell of cheese and tomato sauce filling the air. It’s strong, but not overpowering. Though, it was overpowering enough to mellow out the scent of her tea herbs, which she always had neatly sitting out in organized, labeled jars, on the kitchen counter.

She leads Gerrit over into the kitchen and dining area, not far from the living room. The lasagna is still in the oven, a little timer next to the stove with just a few more minutes left on it. She’d timed it all well. As well as she could, anyway. She did wonder how long John would be, if he were the fashionably late type.

The living room that one can see is mostly minimalist. Just a couch and a couple of chairs, a TV, and two large bookshelves. The bookshelves themselves are packed full of books, mostly sci-fi and fantasy, but many are horror and thriller types if one decided to investigate. The most abundant authors are Asimov and Phillip K. Dick, of course, then Neil Gaiman, Frank Herbert, Jim Butcher, and lots of Brandon Sanderson. There are also the general classics including Poe, Mary Shelley, Charles Dickens, Shakespeare, Agatha Christie, George Orwell and the like.

On top of the coffee table at the moment is the book Starsight by Brandon Sanderson. The book has a girl on the cover with long brown hair. A sci-fi book with a female protagonist is a treasure by Cassandra’s standards. There is a little piece of paper sticking out approximately half way through. In the background, music is playing quietly from the living room just on the other side of the dining room.

"Hey! Nice to see you too. Glad you made it here in one piece. I know it can be a bit difficult to find." The Polychromatic gives a pleasant smile at his compliment. Her shifting hues are calm and pastel, giving a very relaxed aura about her. Her frigid breeze even seems warmer comparatively to usual, although, perhaps that is just the effect from the heat of the oven. "Oh, thank you. I tend to like to dress up. Just my nature. I always worry I make people feel underdressed. In reality, I'm overdressed half the time," She chuckles.

"Here, let me take that," She says, taking his jacket from him. She walks over to the door and puts it on the little over the door hook for bags and jackets. She walks back to the kitchen, taking out a few cups, "Would you like anything to drink? I've got standard juice, soda, water, or alcohol if you'd like? I could also brew up some tea if that would be more preferred." She always wanted to make sure she was a good host.

"We've got lots to discuss tonight, but we can at least enjoy a meal too while we are at it," She smiles again, "I'm sad the hedge screwed me out of a proper shopping trip for better ingredients. Normally I'd use fresh basil and better cheeses. Next time I'll remember not to bring my phone turned on into a proper Hollow."

[Gerrit]

"Difficult might be an understatement." Gerrit followed Cassandra into the kitchen, taking glances around without prying too much. "Well, you succeeded in making me feel underdressed so there's that." A sheepish smile suggested he was only kidding, although there was some truth to it. Frankly, it'd probably be more out of place for her not to dress up.

"Some water, please." Looking at the jars of tea the Ogre changed his mind. "Although, on second though I'll have a tea. Some rooibos, if you have any. If we're about to eat together I might as well get comfortable. You sure like your tea, huh?" He tried to sound casual, although the truth was he was a little bit nervous. How long has it been since he was a guest at a woman's home? He knew that this was far from a date (especially with John coming over any minute), but the feeling was there anyway.

When Cassandra apologized for the lack of good ingredients, Gerrit frowned. "What do you mean, the Hedge screwed you?" She was kind of light hearted about it, so there was no reason to worry too much but still. Hedge-made problems usually meant bad news.

[Cassandra Reeding]

Cassandra laughs at that, "Well, there may or may not have been a reason for that. I like my privacy. Truthfully, you two are the only ones who have the actual address, so I'd be careful with that." And John is the only one with your real phone number... Stop thinking about crap like that. You've got other things to worry about. "And I apologize if I made you feel awkward via dress. It's just how I am. I'm sure John will arrive looking much the same as you. He seems to enjoy his jeans and band t-shirts." Been observing him closely? Only in the sense that you should know your courtmates. Will help if someone tries to impersonate, right?

She walks over to her tea herbs, "Let's see. I know I had some not too long ago," She scans through and it takes her a moment before she finds it, "Aha. I labeled it a Chai Rooibos. Weird. I must have labeled it oddly that day," That first month after Phillip left, she did a lot of organizing. She had been a bit of a madwoman at that point - like a cleaning witch.

"Tea is my preferred beverage most days. I love a good spice, particularly lavender and your standard 'chai'," She uses air quotes, "The cinnamon and clove herbs basically, what people know as chai. Are you a fan?" She asks as she walks over to the tea maker and begins boiling water on the stove top.

She gazes back over at Gerrit, laughing just a little bit, "I might have brought my phone into the Hedge, played with it, and the Hedge decided it didn't like that. It messed with my finances. I'll be fine by my next paycheck though. The symphony pays rather generously." Then there was the matter of her reputation, but she wasn't going to go there yet.

"How has the flower shop been, by the way?" Small talk had always been easy for her. After all, how best to get people comfortable when you sound interested in their endeavors? Of course, these were her courtmates, so she was interested.

[Gerrit]

"Then I'm honoured and will make sure not tell anyone." Which goes without saying usually, but there was no harm in calming Cassandra about giving out her adress.

He shrugged. "No need to apologize, I actually don't mind being unimpressive for the most part." Winter policy, insecurity about his mien or a little bit of both? He wasn't sure anymore. He learned early on that sometimes it was better to be overlooked than to be a target so the whole deal worked out just splendidly for him. "I can see John thinking similarly, but who really knows what he is thinking, right?" Still trying to be casual, though he couldn't help the little barb hiding in that question.

"Chai?" The Ogre didn't seem to know that combination. "Uh, I don't know, I guess I'll try. Frankly, I don't really know my tea, rooibos is just something that became sort of a tradition for cozy occasions." He had decided that it wouldn't hurt to bring back some things he remembered into his new life, even if it was supposed to be a new beginning. He was surprised how well he was dealing overall, but a part of him stubbornly held onto some bitter-warm memories. "I don't recall cinammon being part of the taste, though."

Cassandra's story made the Ogre's mouth stand open in astonishment. He didn't know the Hedge had this kind of influence, reaching into the mortal world. He chuckled alongside the Artist, though the humour of the situation was lost on him. "And what made you do that?" She didn't strike him as the reckless type, so there had to be good reason - was she not telling him the whole story?

Gerrit's face softened when he was asked about his work. For some reason he didn't really talk about it on his own accord, even though he enjoyed it immensely. "Oh, you remember? It's been great. I'm doiing some extra shifts because we had to lay off one employee, but I get along very well with the owner. It's very calming, being able to create without having to care about its function or usability." Something that was often forgotten in a society where a certain area of expertice was the requirement for everyone's safety, it you were to believe the theory of the Courts. "I've noticed the cello - it's different from the one you used at the Autumn Equinox. Is it new?"

[Cassandra Reeding]

The Fairest chuckles a bit, "Oh good. I am relieved," she says with a joking voice.

"Chai just means tea in general. What Americans believe to be chai in general is cinnamon and clove tea, usually some allspice too. So, Rooibos chai is literally just Rooibos tea. That was the uh joke I was making," another chuckle from her, "Sorry, my humor can be a little bit off or confusing sometimes," she smiles, and then moves over to the tea kettle again as it comes to a boil, taking it off of the burner. She sets her thermometer inside, waiting for it to get to the perfect temperature for steeping while she takes out a proper tea serving pot. She sets a handmade bag of tea that she'd just scooped out and set it in the tea pot, waiting.

She considers for a moment, "I was having too much fun with another Fairest and that is just how life is sometimes," She says with a bit of a sigh, "I don't know what got into me. I'm also not used to Hollows looking like a pub. Back home, ours was just a simple bar and then a Hollow attached. It won't happen again on my end. I did think I was smarter than that."

"Of course I remember about the flower shop. I'd be a bad friend if I didn't, I feel. I'm glad it is going well and you are happy there," She says with a chipper voice and smile.

She then gazes over at her cello, a more than pleased smile upon her face. It is confusing that a Winter smiles as much as she does. But then, her job was diplomacy after all. "Yes, it is new. I actually crafted it," she says softly, but there is much pride in her voice, "I'm amazed that it worked out, but then, some of it was muscle memory I think. Perhaps tonight I will play for you two. I've been meaning to truly try it out."

When the water has come to a proper temperature, she pours it into the tea pot. It would be another few minutes before it would be ready to serve.

[James Turner]

John had looked at the directions and committed them to memory before purging his browser history before he’d left. He knew what bus to take, which to transfer to, what stop and then the directions from there. He’d been meaning to arrive earlier but fear and anxiety had caused him to delay, remembering the last meeting they had. Those wounds still raw and exposed, feeling almost vulnerable as he brought his hand up to the door of the apartment before stepping back and away.

Coming to the door again and knocking with an exhale of breath. Too late now, no turning back. He nodded to himself trying to give himself some sort of confidence. He was wearing black slacks and of course a band tee, but this one was special. It was a lucky find finding a t-shirt from a Cure tour. He swallowed hard and held out a bottle of red wine with a small bow on it. The bow was made of string but it was the thought that counted yea?

“Uh, I’m not late am I?”

[Gerrit]

"Oh." He felt a bit embarrassed that this chai thing went so completely over his head. Makes you realize that you're losing much more than you'd think when you're losing someone. The fact that she tried to blame herself was nice, but only intensified the embarrassment. "Yeah okay, then I'll have that."

"Well I just hope there won't be any recurring or lasting consequences. Also, you seem to have gotten around much more than I have - but I guess we can get gather everything we've learned once John is here." He had to be careful what he wished for: he wanted some time alone with Cassandra and all he's done is being awkward to talk to.

Gerrit's eyes widened a bit when Cassandra announced that she has crafted that Cello herself. "Are you serious? Wow, that's impressive. I would love to hear you play!"


When John came, Gerrit also went to the door to greet him. Putting 'don't get resentful towards him or Cassandra' on his mental to-do list he smiled at the Darkling. "Hello John, how are you?"

[Cassandra Reeding]

"Oh, don't worry about it, truly." She chuckles, "The hedge may be a jerk sometimes, but sometimes it saves your life. I doubt anything on that end well have a lasting effect." At least, she hoped not.

There is a sparkle in her emerald eyes as he exclaims amazement at her crafting, "Yes. I'm quite proud of it! Took a few days, but it was worth it." It was cathartic in many ways, living new parts of her Durance and working to accept their beauty in their own way.


Cassandra smiles as she hears the knock at the door. She opens the door, letting John into her apartment, taking notice of his band tee. Inwardly, she laughs because it was exactly what she said he’d wear to Gerrit. “Hey there you. Nice tee. It’s good to have you over. You're not late at all,” She says, taking the bottle of wine from him carefully, trying not to brush her fingers against his. She hopes the action doesn’t come off as her trying not to touch him in a malicious manner. She just knows he doesn’t like touch, much like herself. Though, she imagines she can deal with far more touch than he can, just given her experiences. “Ooo, wine. We should bust this open here soon. Want a glass? I've got other drinks if that would suit your fancy better. Tea, soda, juice, other alcohol,” She says to John as she moves into the kitchen.


She sets the bottle of wine down on the island before taking the tea bag from the tea pot and pouring Gerrit’s tea. The redhead hands him the teacup with a smile. “There you go.” She gazes over at John for an answer as she goes to uncork the bottle.