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A Winters Night

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  1. #1
    Anatole's Avatar
    Mantle (Autumn)
    (Shadows, heat and ringing metal)
    New Identity
    (Anatole Kolowksi)
    Strong Back
    Resources
    Anatole

    MASK
    A shorter, barrel chested man with a thick beard.

    MEIN
    A 'dwarf' with burned, scorched, and scarred skin.

    2
    PRE

    Smith

    They say that winters in Sacramento are short, sharp, and dreary; this winter's night does not disappoint.

    The day has long fled, having given up on itself after suffering wind and cloud and patchy rain. The threatening clouds had lingered long into the evening, sucking out even the desire to go out. Most citizens of the city had huddled into their coats as they raced to their homes by mass transit or the stale warmth of their own vehicles. Many of the supernatural dark kin who made their homes lair in the city had probably scented the damp in the night cooling air and decided, similarly, to give this one a miss.

    But not this Wizened.

    Anatole is out at Funderland, a lone squat figure in an abandoned fairground. Good thing too - a dumpy fellow like him, lugging an old oil drum from somewhere would have surely raised questions ( as would, most likely, the impressive demonstration of strength the Paladin of Shadows demonstrated as he moved the oil drum into position just outside Edna's Haunted House). He has filled the drum with kindling and wood, worked tirelessly to set up a merry blaze. Around the drum - now a quaint fire, guttering and snapping in the bitter breeze - he has arrayed some plastic garden chairs.

    The deep shadows are made stranger by the action of his Autumn mantle, now given free rein to dance and pool at his feet.

    The Wizened stares with uncanny fascination into the flames while he pokes at the fire with a stick.

    Who knows if anyone will join him on this cold, gusty, eve.

    Then there is the cheap table laden with marsh mellows, some winter fruits, and a small selection of drinks.

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  3. #2
    Rlyeh's Avatar
    Presance
    (There)
    Dex ●●●●●●
    (Nimble)
    Allies
    (Street)
    R'lyeh

    New ID: Riley Rivers | Danger Sense | Direction Sense | Trained Memory | Trained Observer | Allies (Street) |
    Mask

    A slim Caucasian women, with frayed, frizzy bleached hair, chapped lips and irritated, red skin surrounding her eyes.

    Underneath her clothes are a myriad of scars, most notably on her back shaping like wings, and her stomach, Great wide slashes that never healed correctly.
    Mien

    Oil black, miasma purple, and dishwater white, the pallet of the fox girl drowning in crude oil, her hair continues to spill only halted by her triangular fox ears, popping from the side of her head.

    Miasma fur lay neatly with dirty glass & black ice feathers, with a trio of smog-smoke tails, easily seen now, is a slash across her throat, yowling open. Acts more like tattoo now, withrows of yellow fangs, and a wet looking tongue lolling out.
    Mantle 1

    The feeling of sunbaked heat of a Summer roadtrip, paired with the wafting smell of gasoline from a roadstop.

    2
    PRE

    Blightbent Riddleseeker

    R'lyeh's nose should be cold, and hair wet-er. A sense-memory of her Mask's frizzy mess of curls sticking to her face,
    and her Mien's continual drip-drip-dropping makes her shiver. It's weird-awkward. Strange. Truth and lies and truth. The wind is strong but not enough to move her crude oil hair from it's slick straight path of drip-drip-drop. And her new mantle (!!!), is strong enough to make the piercing wind into something brisk. So she's chilled, but not cold. It's strange-weird-good. Even if everything smells more and more like gasoline as she wills her mantle tighter she can warm up.

    She doesn't know if anyone's out in this. but. Maybe. And if not. She can say she came out to socialize and it wont be a lie.

    She's making the rounds to wach of the Season's seats, High Striker, the Wishing Well, skipping the Mirror Maze (was there any Winters in town?) and heading to Edna's Haunted House and - oh!

    Fire. And. Anatole!

    "Hi! Anatole ! hi!" she greats, pulling into something between a fast walk and a jog to get there faster, and oh! Snacks! "How'er you?" she asks, when she's closer, and picks one of the wet seats, she's already wet. She doesn't mind getting wetter. Not now, since her trying to socialize, has turned to actually socializing.
    Wyrd ●●● | Heath: | Willpower: | Glamour: | Mantle and Noteable Merits in Minisheet

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  5. #3
    Anatole's Avatar
    Mantle (Autumn)
    (Shadows, heat and ringing metal)
    New Identity
    (Anatole Kolowksi)
    Strong Back
    Resources
    Anatole

    MASK
    A shorter, barrel chested man with a thick beard.

    MEIN
    A 'dwarf' with burned, scorched, and scarred skin.

    2
    PRE

    Smith

    There is a gust of flame, caused by the Wizened's poking, that uncannily illuminated Anatole's face as he looked up. A smile formed in the effusive curls of his beard.

    "Ry'leh! Welcome! How are you?"

    Thrusting the stick one last time into the flames, he shuffled over to the table.

    "For myself... Well. Enough. Not much to talk about really..."

    A pause.

    "Well. That would be an untruth. There are problems. Disturbing conundrums."

    He turns, watches the Elemental curiously. He did not know how much information had leaked out from his last, concerning, journey into the Hedge.

    "S'more or winter fruit? Drink?"

    He changed the subject, waiting to see which way the Summer Courtier would take the conversation.

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  7. #4
    Rlyeh's Avatar
    Presance
    (There)
    Dex ●●●●●●
    (Nimble)
    Allies
    (Street)
    R'lyeh

    New ID: Riley Rivers | Danger Sense | Direction Sense | Trained Memory | Trained Observer | Allies (Street) |
    Mask

    A slim Caucasian women, with frayed, frizzy bleached hair, chapped lips and irritated, red skin surrounding her eyes.

    Underneath her clothes are a myriad of scars, most notably on her back shaping like wings, and her stomach, Great wide slashes that never healed correctly.
    Mien

    Oil black, miasma purple, and dishwater white, the pallet of the fox girl drowning in crude oil, her hair continues to spill only halted by her triangular fox ears, popping from the side of her head.

    Miasma fur lay neatly with dirty glass & black ice feathers, with a trio of smog-smoke tails, easily seen now, is a slash across her throat, yowling open. Acts more like tattoo now, withrows of yellow fangs, and a wet looking tongue lolling out.
    Mantle 1

    The feeling of sunbaked heat of a Summer roadtrip, paired with the wafting smell of gasoline from a roadstop.

    2
    PRE

    Blightbent Riddleseeker

    A beat as the fire flares, "I'm okay-good-yes." she says, settling in to do small talk which she used to know how to do and why it was important, but now. She...just didn't get it. And why it was necessary. And why people kept doing it.

    But then - "What problems-disturbing-conundrums?" she asks in a rapid fire. Blinking again at the change. "S'mores-yes-drink-yes. Problems-disturbing-conundrum?" or was that something she shouldn't ask twice. But - but! Dangling Questions-Answers in front of her! Hmph!
    Wyrd ●●● | Heath: | Willpower: | Glamour: | Mantle and Noteable Merits in Minisheet

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  9. #5
    Anatole's Avatar
    Mantle (Autumn)
    (Shadows, heat and ringing metal)
    New Identity
    (Anatole Kolowksi)
    Strong Back
    Resources
    Anatole

    MASK
    A shorter, barrel chested man with a thick beard.

    MEIN
    A 'dwarf' with burned, scorched, and scarred skin.

    2
    PRE

    Smith

    Anatole raised an eyebrow as Ry'Leh spoke. Then he gathered up some marsh mellows, sticks, and poured out a stiff drink. Then he shuffled over to the Elemental. Darkness hurried about him, turning his appearance into an eerie baroque and gothic charicature.

    "Yes. Oh yes. An infection spreads through the Hedge. One trod is all but lost to it now, no doubt. Curious infection. A rust or crust of decay, covering the Thorns of the Hedge. Nasty stuff. The rust breaks off at the touch, absorbs into the skin if not protected. After that who can say - but it has laid low Gerritt already."

    A pause - for drama perhaps, or simply because an Autumn Courtier had to Autumn.

    "Never seen its like. Have some ideas... But this... This is deep magic."

    And then he smiled a grandfatherly smile as he handed over the marsh mellows and the drink.

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  11. #6
    Rlyeh's Avatar
    Presance
    (There)
    Dex ●●●●●●
    (Nimble)
    Allies
    (Street)
    R'lyeh

    New ID: Riley Rivers | Danger Sense | Direction Sense | Trained Memory | Trained Observer | Allies (Street) |
    Mask

    A slim Caucasian women, with frayed, frizzy bleached hair, chapped lips and irritated, red skin surrounding her eyes.

    Underneath her clothes are a myriad of scars, most notably on her back shaping like wings, and her stomach, Great wide slashes that never healed correctly.
    Mien

    Oil black, miasma purple, and dishwater white, the pallet of the fox girl drowning in crude oil, her hair continues to spill only halted by her triangular fox ears, popping from the side of her head.

    Miasma fur lay neatly with dirty glass & black ice feathers, with a trio of smog-smoke tails, easily seen now, is a slash across her throat, yowling open. Acts more like tattoo now, withrows of yellow fangs, and a wet looking tongue lolling out.
    Mantle 1

    The feeling of sunbaked heat of a Summer roadtrip, paired with the wafting smell of gasoline from a roadstop.

    2
    PRE

    Blightbent Riddleseeker

    "Facinating," she murmurs as Anatole begins to tell her. How could such an infection begin, why it began, and -

    what.

    "What." her eyes rake over Anatole, head to toe taking in the architecture of the Paladin's shadows, as she goes boneless in shock. She feels numb. [COLOR="#8C5695"]"Is...is that why I haven't seen him....?"[/color[ she thought he left. People leave they don't - "Is..he..is he...?" she can't even say it.

    She takes the marshmallows, and drink. Almost drops them but finds a table for the drink and just hangs onto the bag of marshmallows. She should probably eat some, or start making the s'mores, but.

    "...what's being done...about..." the infection. Gerrit.
    Wyrd ●●● | Heath: | Willpower: | Glamour: | Mantle and Noteable Merits in Minisheet

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  13. #7
    Anatole's Avatar
    Mantle (Autumn)
    (Shadows, heat and ringing metal)
    New Identity
    (Anatole Kolowksi)
    Strong Back
    Resources
    Anatole

    MASK
    A shorter, barrel chested man with a thick beard.

    MEIN
    A 'dwarf' with burned, scorched, and scarred skin.

    2
    PRE

    Smith

    Anatole's face turned sombre.

    "He was... He is... stable... but unresponsive. I'm under the impression that the Spring Court has him now - they have the most powerful of the healing arts. Liam might know more. I... I was acting as rear guard in case something came up the Trod. It was a very messy withdrawal."

    The burned dwarf sighed.

    "Something will have to be done about that Trod though. And sooner the better I'd wager."

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  15. #8
    Rlyeh's Avatar
    Presance
    (There)
    Dex ●●●●●●
    (Nimble)
    Allies
    (Street)
    R'lyeh

    New ID: Riley Rivers | Danger Sense | Direction Sense | Trained Memory | Trained Observer | Allies (Street) |
    Mask

    A slim Caucasian women, with frayed, frizzy bleached hair, chapped lips and irritated, red skin surrounding her eyes.

    Underneath her clothes are a myriad of scars, most notably on her back shaping like wings, and her stomach, Great wide slashes that never healed correctly.
    Mien

    Oil black, miasma purple, and dishwater white, the pallet of the fox girl drowning in crude oil, her hair continues to spill only halted by her triangular fox ears, popping from the side of her head.

    Miasma fur lay neatly with dirty glass & black ice feathers, with a trio of smog-smoke tails, easily seen now, is a slash across her throat, yowling open. Acts more like tattoo now, withrows of yellow fangs, and a wet looking tongue lolling out.
    Mantle 1

    The feeling of sunbaked heat of a Summer roadtrip, paired with the wafting smell of gasoline from a roadstop.

    2
    PRE

    Blightbent Riddleseeker

    She heaves a relieved sigh, slumping back into the seat. Glad of the fire. Glad of the rain. Her eyes fall closed and she breathes

    It takes her a moment, longer. "Good. Good..." her mouth works soundlessly, Gerrit was a friend and the last time she made a friend, he'd left. Gone-no-goodbyes. But left was better the dead and - "I'm glad." a shuddering breath, "He's not. Sera-queen and her court will see to him-yes."

    She nods, a rapid continual motion, rain and oil, drip-drip-drop.

    "Are there any plans?"
    Wyrd ●●● | Heath: | Willpower: | Glamour: | Mantle and Noteable Merits in Minisheet

  16. #9
    Talia's Avatar

    Striking Looks
    (Anti-Establishment)
    Summer Mantle
    Talia

    Mien
    Fire dances and crackles in her hair, her eyes are a burnt orange colour, steam occasionally escapes from her pores.

    Mantle
    Talia's mantle gives of a feeling of dry heat and smoke which reminds people of a forest fire.

    +1
    SL
    3
    PRE

    Waterborn Fireheart

    It was Winter, her least favourite month. However, it was Sacramento and the chance of snow was still slim. Tonight Talia had decided to do a bit of exploring around Funderland. She had thought she was alone, and then she smelt smoke. It had taken a short while but eventually she caught the glow of the fire and headed over to its source. She made her way around the corner "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU... OH!!!" Talia chuckled and made her way over to the pair of lost gathered around the fire "Sorry." she said as she got closer "I didn't think anyone was meeting tonight and when I saw the glow I thought you were either kids of hobos that had decided to start a fire."

    She made her way, taking a place around the fire "Did I miss the memo?"
    Talia ¦ Elemental ¦ Waterborn / Fireheart

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  18. #10
    Anatole's Avatar
    Mantle (Autumn)
    (Shadows, heat and ringing metal)
    New Identity
    (Anatole Kolowksi)
    Strong Back
    Resources
    Anatole

    MASK
    A shorter, barrel chested man with a thick beard.

    MEIN
    A 'dwarf' with burned, scorched, and scarred skin.

    2
    PRE

    Smith

    "I am still researching. Nothing definite yet. Maybe after the change of Season Liam and I can gather some like-minded people and take another crack at it."

    Anatole turned sharply when Talia appeared, swiftly, out of the darkness. An eyebrow arched, sank; his face snapped into a snarl, softened into a grandfatherly smile.

    "Talia! Welcome! No. This was me. Usually I keep an open kitchen in the old boarding house but tonight I thought I'd come outside. The weather is... so right. So. No memo. Just me with some drinks and snacks. S'more or some fruits? How about a drink? It feels good to know there was another Freeholder taking watch. This place seems so much bigger at night. Ha!"

    Anatole finished shuffling around the fire. He pointed to the food and the (albeit limited) drinks and waited for Talia's response.

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