Keeping House

[Anatole]

The night was closing in.

As the year rumbled slowly to its end and the solstice approached, Autumn dissolved seamlessly into winter. The days were noticeably short now; the nights long and black. The deciduous trees had all lost their leafy coats and the sharp winds had carried the leaf litter away; only the pines clung assiduously to their spiky green coats. The approaching Season meant the theme park was doing a bumper trade - by day. Halloween was long gone, and the old 'haunted house' had been effectively sidelined for another year.

Anatole the burned dwarf roamed the rambling old building, almost a wraith himself where his baroque Mantle took advantage of the fading light and the creeping shadows that had invaded the house. He is moving about, a frown deepening on his face as he detects another patina of dust growing in the corners. The Ashen King seems to be keeping more and more to himself these days.

The door is open. The porch lit. In the kitchen a kettle stands filled and Anatole has laid out a selection of tea and coffee.

The mundane folk have gone for the day. Now the Lost can play...

A short social scene before the Winter Coronation. I'll close this scene when the Coronation starts for continuity purposes but for now... if youwant to talk, Anatole is here.

[Gerrit]

Gerrit found himself standing in front of the Haunted House. He went there more on a whim than anything. Maybe he'd meet Rhodes - even though he had only met him twice and only shortly, he still wondered if there was something wrong with the Autumn King. Failing to meet him, he maybe could have another chat with Anatole. Grumpy he may be, but Gerrit had enjoyed their day in the early Autumn sun.

Intrigued by the inviting appearance of the house, the Ogre entered. Off-season or not: this place still gave him the creeps. As is expected of the Ashen Court's domain. Instinctively he dug his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker and pulled his shoulders up a bit. "Hello?" He called out into the semi-darkness, feeling like the protagonist of a horror movie. A stray thought made him smile despite himself for a moment. When in Rome...

[Anatole]

In keeping with the horror theme, the burned dwarf's head popped into view as soon as Gerrit called out. Anatole's mantle was evident for once in the gloom, his face baroque and distorted by shade and shadow.

"Gerrit!"

Anatole beamed.

His head disappeared and then reappeared, attached to his body. He muscled his way into the kitchen and gestured towards the table, inviting the Stonebones to sit.

"Good to see you. Wondered if anyone was going to turn up tonight. Tea?"

Anatole was already boiling the kettle.

"How have you been faring?"

The dwarf turned to the Ogre as he waited for the water to boil.

[Gerrit]

Anatole was scary at the best of times when he wanted to. Add in a dark, empty Haunted House and he didn't really have to try. The Ogre startled and even jumped back a bit, but quickly regained his composure. The advantage of venues like these was, you basically expected to get scared.

"Ack, Anatole gee you frightened me!" ,he exclaimed, half jokingly. Gerrit exhaled the last bit of breath he had been holding and followed the Dwarf, keeping his eyes peeled for further surprises. Muttering a "thank you", he sat down and looked around. I wonder how much of the atmosphere is Autumns influence, or Anatole's Mantle. It seemed inviting and homely, but there was a eeriness to it that kept Gerrit on his toes.

"Well, the night is still young. Whom did you invite?" He was glad to meet the Wizened here - it had been too long since they've met. "Uhm, do you have Rooibos tea? If not peppermint is fine."

He regarded Anatole with a content smile. "I'm going actually good! Doing lots of work, mostly on myself but there's steady progress. What about you? How is the speculating coming along?" He hoped he didn't hit a nerve, but he wanted to show that he had listened attentively last time they met.

[Anatole]

"Me? Frighten an Ogre? Bah!"

Anatole chuckled in good humour.

"Rooibos? Rooibos. Rooibos? Ah. Yeah..."

Anatole had to dig through a cupboard before he found the right tea. From the sound of it, the wizened might not have been completely certain of his find, but he used it nonetheless. The burned dwarf listened as the kettle boiled.

"Invite? No one. I left the light on and the door open. I figure that for much of the season we of the Ash have been too distant and quiet. No point organising a party, but I can certainly open the house up. If you catch my drift. So far, it is just you..."

He was pouring the water and stirring their cups. At the mention of his speculations, Anatole turned to Gerrit with a sly smile.

"Getting better. See... some of the right people are starting to notice. Sure I'm only small fry; but I'm clued in a lot more. I can't do anything big, yet. Naturally. But it is nice to be able to name drop. And have it known that I'm not a fake. That makes me happy."

He checked to see if Gerrit wanted milk; poured some if he did. And placed a large cup before the Ogre.

"Try that."

[Gerrit]

"Oh you know, Ogres get frightened pretty easily - I think most of them just react differently to it." He chuckled along with the Wizened though. It'd probably surprise both of them if he were to turn aggressive.

"Yes, I've noticed. Isn't there some sort of Market held in Sacramento? Have you just been busy or are your numbers not big enough for it?" The lingering question about Rhodes left unasked. "But you're right - you don't strike me as the type to host a party. Spooking visitors in a gloomy house, though.." There was amusement in the Stonebone's voice - it was clear that he felt more comfortable than a few weeks ago.

"Glad to hear about your progress. It's probably better to start slow, raise no suspicions by coming out of nowhere with too much knowledge." In that way that applied to the stock market as much as to their respective Courts. He asked for a bit of milk and sipped a bit of the tea served. "Thank you." It tasted different than the one Cassandra had given him. Not worse, but somehow more melancholic and.. darker? You're just letting the surroundings get to you. Could be, but there were lots of things about being one of the Lost he didn't fully grasp yet, so he wouldn't be surprised if he subtly could taste moods.

Speaking of.. He put down his cup and cleared his throat. "Uh, I think I'll just keep being straight to the point with you: can I ask you something?" Okay, so he'd already missed getting to the point. "How would you approach finding a Fetch?" The question popped up in his mind as much on a whim as his decision to come here. He mainly thought of Ram - he knew exactly where he'd find his own Fetch: sitting in his house, with his family. But his fellow Ogre had no idea and maybe the Ashen Court in its boundless knowledge could help.

[Anatole]

Anatole gathered his cup and plonked himself heavily in a seat opposite the Ogre.

"Market? Not too sure about that. I know there is one that passes close by here. The Spider Market, it is called. As the name implies, its on the back of big hedge beastie. Finding it... Well it moves around, see. So its a bit hit and miss*"

The wizened shrugged and blew on his tea.

What Gerrit said next had Anatole freezing up. He didn't move; hot air rising from his cup entwined with his effusive curls and moustaches. The Ashen courtier smiled. Dangerously.

"Yours or somebody else's?"

The Hedge scene is not in Continuity so Anatole has only visited the Spider Market once and by chance. He has no knowledge of the Market's schedule or the existence of Sal's ruins

[Gerrit]

Gerrit looked at the Wizened for a few confused moments. Then it clicked. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean a- I meant a" looking for the name, heard only half-aware in his old Freehold, "Fallen Faire. Like any event hosted by Autumn for the Freehold."

There was a second where Gerrit actually enjoyed turning the tables of scaring each other, but seeing Anatole's reaction made that particular joy freeze up very quickly. This is something people see when they talk about sleep-paralysis demons. That Wizened looming over them, face made of shadows and burns. He looked for comfort in his own warm cup, holding it with both hands while choosing his words carefully. "Someone else's. I can't tell you any more for now, but I figured you're the most knowledgeable person I probably know here, so..." The words drifted off, the Ogre seemingly not meaning to just butter Anatole up, but speaking from real respect.

[Anatole]

Anatole's face went blank for a moment and he blinked.

"Eh? No. No Faires or anything like that. Not when there is only two of us."

The dwarf was quick to regain his dangerous poise, however. He placed down his cup and leaned back in his seat, watching Gerrit carefully.

"Well. As for Fetch hunting... Depends what you mean by 'finding'. We all share a sympathetic bond to our Fetches, if you want to call it that. So your friend can always Dream them. They will... find... their way into their Fetches dreams. Which, of course, is one sure way to know if their Fetch is still around and kicking. If they have some skill in Oneiromancy - eh, skills in shaping dreams and such - they might be able to hack the Fetches dreams for useful information."

He let a pause form and develop before he leaned forward and slurped his tea.

"And if your friend has some cash to burn they can always try the mundane way. If its their Fetch, it will be based off of them in their previous life. Start there. The results might be mixed and... costly... if the Fetch has changed anything. Occupational hazard, right?"

He placed his cup down as an afterthought.

"Oh and if your friend is concerned about Dreaming the Fetch - you can accompany them on their journey. A dream pact or some other Pledge; kip down in the same room; and away you go - you'll find your way to their Dream and you can journey together. Technique called Skeinwalking. Don't need to be tracking a Fetch to do it, but if your friend is actively looking - they'll find the path to their Fetches dreams."

Anatole grinned again.

Anatole has a fairly high Occult rating, so he should be able to recall the above information without recourse to a roll.

[Gerrit]

Gerrit nodded and sipped at his tea. The reason was understandable, yet he felt a slight disappointment - he wondered if inaction like this lessened the impact the seasonal system had on the Freehold in regards to the Others, or at least weakened the sense of community between the Lost: there has been a whole season where neither Anatole nor Rhodes appeared really made an appearance. But the Ogre didn't voice those concerns. He was still new in Sacramento, so it was better to observe the local traditions rather than trying to change things unnecessarily. "Maybe it's better like that anyway. Keeps us less visible." Now, that was a nice Winter way of avoiding conflict.

Anatole's explanation made Gerrit feel uneasy, yet he tried to remember as much of it as possible. He knew next to nothing about dreams and all that and as far as he knew Ram didn't remember much of his past life. At least he had two leads on where to begin, if the Render ever wishes to follow up on those. "That sounds.. complicated. Assuming neither I nor my friend have much skill in... Oneiromancy, was it? Assuming that, could someone else skilled in such things take the lead?" He remembered John mentioning he knew his way around dreams.

"Thank you. I hope I'm not bothering you with all those questions - you've probably imagined a far less.. uh, businesslike evening." Although he wasn't sure if the Wizened didn't consider topics like these fun. Looking at his Mantle-colored Mien made you imagine lots of different definitions of 'fun'.