(2303) Bounties of the Season

[Anatole]

"Gerrit!"

Anatoles face brightened when he caught sight of the giant Ogre. Still trying to feast on that most delectable and peculiar of cakes, he gestured hurriedly for Gerrit to join him Gerrit t Aeolus He moved to one side, giving the Ogre space.

"Try this! Ooo no! This one! It is... unique!"

The burned dwarf carved Gerrit some cake while he poured his tea.

He burst out laughing as Sonnie Wu danced by Sonnie Wu Abyssalstar

"How are you feeling?"

Anatole asked more seriously, following Gerrit's gaze across the Tavern

[Gerrit]

Continued from (2303)Spring Coronation...

Gerrit eyed the cakes that had sparked Anatole's excitement cautiously. He had seen Anatole being angry before - amused on rare occasions - but not like this, as far as he could remember. Still, Gerrit accepted the cake and after returning Sonnie's welcome he tried a bite.

"Oh. Oh my." Description couldn't do it justice, but he could understand Anatole's enthusiasm. He even wondered briefly if the cake would get him inebriated, but that worry was silenced by a second fork of cake. "I'd say 'unique' almost doesn't do it justice." A giggle found its way out of the Stonebones, despite his mood coming into this Coronation. "All things considered, I would say it's bittersweet." He chased the curious cake down with some tea, partly to get a grip again. Tea had been Cassandra's thing. "It's good to see the Freehold thriving, in a way. But as much as I see the new faces, I see those who aren't here anymore." Further bits of the cake would taste different - still wonderful, but not wholly without a blueberry-colored nostalgia.
"How are you? You seem to be celebrating the turn of seasons well enough."

[Anatole]

Anatole was still staring out across the Tavern. A smile spread from under his beard as the Stonebones caught the joy from the cake.

"Bittersweet. Yes. As it should be. Mirth requires a solid foundation otherwise it just becomes silly."

He sighed.

"You are right. I see the missing faces too. Too many. I miss John. And Cassandra's music. I miss Jasper's friends who were with us only a short while. But it is good to see the Freehold come together. These days we are so scattered that we hardly ever meet. Maybe this year will be different."

Turning to Gerrit, Anatole began scraping up the left overs from his plate.

"I am okay, as they say. Bit relived actually. It looks like the trod problem might be limited to the trod. Always a hopeful sign."

[Gerrit]

Gerrit almost argued the point that cake - however good it tasted - was not really enough to to produce true joy. Then again, if it wasn't for that cake he could have argued that true joy was something that was not truly attainable for the Lost.
So maybe Anatole had a point. "No, we wouldn't want to act silly at the Spring event." Despite the dry delivery Gerrit hoped that the Wizened would get his intention. Acting extroverted and content so much was not only exhausting, it was difficult.

"You are right. It makes you wonder if this is just a natural development or if something is wrong with the Hedge around Sacramento. Or with the Freehold's reputation." Then again, he didn't have much experience with the amount of Lost in other cities to draw any real conclusions. He didn't comment on his ex-Motleymates, and he did not stop to think whether that was because he missed them too much or too little. But this was the second time Anatole has mentioned Jasper in that context, so the Ogre got curios. "The tall one over there? I don't think I've met his friends. Maybe I should follow your advice and talk to him one day. Were you close with them?"

If Gerrit needed proof that he wasn't above the Ogres' curse, Anatole just delivered: hearing about the 'trod problem' - the issue that was the straw that broke this Stonebones back and let to him disappearing over night for a few weeks - had shame and a hint of anger flash through him. He mostly surpressed his reaction, but couldn't help but to look around the room. "That's, uh, good to hear. If that spread we'd be in trouble. And it seems like nobody else got hurt." On the other hand? Where was Rhodes? He was looking into this, right? Scanning the room he caught R'lyeh's eyes and waved at her, flashing the discolored scar at her in the process. He was too much in his own head to gauge her mood - maybe he could catch up with her later tonight. He finished his cake and focused his attention on Anatole again. "By the way: do you know where Rhodes is?"

[Anatole]

Anatole smiled - a certain wan smile, thick with cynicism: the Wizened most assuredly took the hint about the difficulties of extroversion - and its costs. He nodded as Gerrit continued; Anatole had cleaned his plate and was now licking his lips, thick with crumbs and cream.

"It does.... You know, I don't think we actually considered that possibility when we began looking into this problem. All our theories went in an entirely different direction. That is definitely something to keep in mind. Especially if all our other work doesn't pan out."

He made a serious face and knuckled his moustaches while his friend returned to staring out across the Tavern.

"Close to Jasper's motley? No. Not exactly - but I had high hopes of doing so. Flicker - a Darkling - was always acting as Jasper's shadow. Mara was an Ogre... Very sociable. Loud. A bit too loud... Still... Doesn't matter. What matters is I hoped to ingratiate myself more. They seemed very much a close knit motley. From the outside at least. It must pain him greatly."

At the Stonebone's mention of the Dread Lord - or lack thereof - the Wizened snapped to attention. He scrutinised the space with a hard eye and grunted loudly in surprise.

"Ah! He will be in the orbit of Seraphina no doubt... Oh. Hmmm."

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head questioningly toward Gerrit.

"Where indeed."

[Gerrit]

Was is a good sign that the Autumn Court hasn't considered that possibility yet? Either way, Gerrit considered for a moment and decided that he would probably help out if needed, but didn't need to get involved gratuitously. "What directions did you take for possible research angles?"

A close-knit Motley, eh? Gerrit took a moment to watch Jasper. If there was a deep-seated Sorrow tainting the Beast's disposition, Gerrit couldn't tell. All the more reason to chat him up. He regarded the Wizened again, making a conscious effort to tip his cup in a toast. "Well, I certainly hope that you get integrated as much as you wanted to." That felt lame. Gerrit sipped at his tea and added. "Have you ever considered looking for safety in a Motley?"

Rhode's absence was now fully noted - not only by his failure to stand by Seraphina's side, but also by the whole Autumn Court's knowledge of his whereabouts. Gerrit just nodded and grumbled a bit.

[Anatole]

For a brief moment, Anatole became wary as he eyed Gerrit across the table.

"What ails the Trod was described to me as an infection or as some form of disease infecting the Thorns and I corroborated that with my own eyes. Working on that assumption, I went in search of any references or lore regarding such effects - especially any rumours or tales relating to such infections stemming from malignant goblin fruit. Again, the goblin fruit is in reference to the apparently infected Hedge bounty which, it is believed, first caused the problem."

"Unfortunatly, I didn't find much at all. So either my assumption is wrong, or else this malady is very, very rare."

He smiled.

"Hence why I am happy with your suggestions and ideas. Opens up other possibilities if we still can't make headway with this... issue."

The Wizened's head tilted to one side as he considered the Ogre's question.

"On and off. I came close with Titania and Jon... but it was not meant to be. Titania had particular plans and they would have placed Jon in a precarious position at that time. Titania and I danced around the issue for a while longer but I haven't seen her in ages, so... That was the last time I really considered a motley. I was part of one briefly when I first emerged from the Hedge. It did not last."

Suddenly the Wizened looked like his Seeming: his beard deflated and every scar and burn mark appeared prominent in his face; his Mantle flared dark around him.

[Gawain Avellone]

"Pardon me, gentleman, don't mean to interrupt," Gawain apologized as he sidled up to the food table. Eyeing the selection, he takes a small piece of the more "normal" of the sweets on offer, though both of them looked to have been infused with a bit of the Hedge's otherworldly nature. He idly wondered if that was a quirk of the caterer or how any food baked on this side of reality would turn out. He also inspected one of the Goblin Fruits sat centrally on the table, wondering if it was truly a good idea to try out something so unknown.

"Now what are the chances that the Spring Court would set out a fruit centerpiece and load it up with something that would loosen one's inhibitions? At least that's the first thing that comes to mind. Is that how Spring operates in these parts?" The question was partially rhetorical and he hadn't looked directly at either of the other changelings gathered near the table. But if the more senior members of the Freehold had answers, then he was all ears.

Continued from (2303)Spring Coronation...

[Anatole]

Anatole snapped to attention, eyes narrowing as the Darkling suddenly appeared at the table. He smiled and moved to push one of the - as yet - untouched cakes towards the Palewraith.

"Thankfully they are not like that in this Freehold. Seraphina is too regal for that. But I am sure Sonnie Wu would enjoy such a Court."

He sniffed, tasting the surge of humidity in the air.

"But I've never seen such a spread as this before - so who knows?"

"Call me Anatole. Ashen Courtier. My friend here is Gerritt of the Winter Court."

The Wizened did not think the Onyx Sovereign would like his official ranking divulged so early in the piece.

[Gerrit]

The ebb and flow of their conversation has been building to several interesting insights. One, he vaguely remembered John being more fond of Titania, but this idea of a Motley surprised him. So what impact does being left have when one was almost second choice anyway? Two, there was a lot of covered ground as far as handling the problem went. That was good.

Gerrit could neither try and add some own insight, nor could he comment to Anatole's story and the emotional response that followed - one of the new faces decided to join the conversation. And why wouldn't he? This was not a private setting at all. The Stonebone's jaw tightened ever so slightly before he turned to face Gawain and produced a smile. The thought of getting drunk on the cake he ate made his first words get stuck in his throat, but luckily Anatole was quick to cover the introductions. He cleared his throat with a wet and bloody sound before adding his own. "Excuse me. Like my friend just said: I'm Gerrit, effective King of Sorrow of this Freehold." Did he like flaunting that title? Not one bit. But ego had to take a backseat compared to informing new arrivals about the officials of Sacramento. Now, the fact that there was no alternative since he reigned a Court of one? That information did not feel pressing to disclose.

"I second Anatole's motion: you can be sure that Seraphina would inform her guests about any.. side-effects her food might cause." Unless that was what the chic Darkling was after. Gerrit's scar-brows furrowed slightly as memories of the last Summer-thrill-seeker came back to him in a flurry of badly sung karaoke and cigarette smoke. But this wasn't Colonel Worm. "And you are?"