(2402) A Warm Night at Edna's

[Anatole]

The day had been clear and fresh with a gusty kind of wind. The night promised to be clear and cooler still. Winter's lingering grip was loosening, but Spring had not yet arrived in full force: the elemental powers were now finely balanced at this point before the turning of the Wheel. Anatole was taking the opportunity to air the old Boarding House. The wind, when it chose to, snagged at the expansive net curtains and chased down groaning old halls; it tugged and pushed at the doors; and carried the scents of warm new bread outside. Anatole was baking.

Specifically, he was trying to learn to bake - or more appropriately, get some practice with a bread maker.

Some of his earlier... experiments... lay cooling on the kitchen table. He had also laid out butter, preserves, and a few beverages.

With Winter coming to an end, it was an ideal time for the Lost to gather and take stock before the Season's turned and the year burst into Spring.

[Kray]

If there was anyway to attract a gluttonous Gristlegrinder to your door it is with the smell of food. And hence Kray enters the kitchen a little to hastily forgetting to duck and horn nubbins catch on the Lintel ricocheting the Ogre back a step. 'OW.' A great grey hand goes up to massage horns and forehead. As he now ducks into the room, long coat swishing with the motion. 'Uh. Evening, Majesty.' Other hand goes up and the ever present hat doffs and dons again. 'How you been keeping Anatole?'

Formalities first it was only proper. But he does take a seat, choosing to ignore its groans of protest, giving side ways glances to what's cooling on the table.

[Anatole]

Anatole winces in sympathy as the giant Gristlegrider squeezes through the door.

"Kray. Ooof. Welcome. Welcome. Please be seated."

While the Ogre sat, the Wizened carefully shunted samples of his breads, butter and some preserves across the table.

"I'm well. Been thinking about some of the things we spoke of... Housing... And so on. Do try some of the bread - I've been experimenting. I am sorry about of the preserves though, they are getting a bit stale."

He attempted a face.

"Trying to use them up, you see. At least the bread is still warm. And some more on the way. Tell me what you think."

Anatole hovered at the opposite end of the table.

[Kray]

He gives his head one last rub. As he nods. ’Hm. Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that as well.’ He grabs the nearest of Anatole’s loaves, the entire thing. ’Thanks. Don’t mind if I do.’ Taking it between both hands he tears in in half down its length. ‘Just best to make sure were on the same page before continuing.’ Tearing the two halves into quarters. ‘Neither of us like the idea of a haunted house.’ A statement on his part. ‘Something that inspires fear shouldn’t have people excited to go again.’ He’s made a bit of mess with flakes of crust from the bread already.


Dipping knives in butters and preserves. ‘Oh. That’s all good with me. My stomach can handle it.’ Whether he meant slightly off, volume or both goes unsaid. ‘Ah. I eat. A lot. Food is food.’ Filling the space is the best way to put off the cravings. ‘So. I might not be the best judge but I’ll try.’ Each quarter gets generous coatings. The Ogres terrible jaw has no problem ripping an overly large chuck from the quarter in a flurry of crust. Chewing however, seems hard for him his jaw already over stuffed with monstrous canines made for ripping flesh and breaking bones, leaves little room for fine motor movement like that. Eventually he swallows. ‘That one. I’d say a little dry.’ Which does not stop him taking the rest of that loaf quarter and sending it the same way as the previous mouthful.

[Anatole]

Anatole watched. Waited.

"Nope. Edna's wants to be free. I can feel it. Sometimes I even hear it - the groan of the old floorboards when too many feet go trapesing through."

He paused to watch the Ogre tear through the food offerings. And with a critical eye, listens to Kray's comments; checks which loaf it was, and hustles off to consult his notes. The sound of a pen scratching paper fills the void.

"My thoughts exactly."

He turned back to Kray.

"At present my mind has been turning to a middle path. As a Sovereign, me moving the old House might be viewed as a challenge to, or a statement about the Freehold. I... Don't care, exactly. But I do have to work with the other Sovereigns, so I'm more willing to take a long, patient game. The one thing I do have complete control of, however, is the Court Hollow. Just because there is one Door here doesn't mean we can't have Doors elsewhere. In more appropriate places. And I have some ideas."

Another one of the Harvest King's carefully crafted pauses filled the space.

"Tea?"

[Kray]

As he eats continuing to stuff the other quarters of the loaf he had butchered into his maw, each in turn generously covered in differing preserves Kray Listens, Yellow bulbous eyes hold his sovereign steady. This is a serious conversation and has his full attention, meaning the mess of crumbs in front of him builds up, disregarded for the moment. The lean forward, the shadow cast over his brow are those signs he disagrees or just the Ogres natural menace?

Head tilts to one side. 'If I want it, you want it, the place wants it, surely that settles the matter?' Not listening to a building when it speaks, sounds like to not would to contest the will of the roof over our head, a dangerous position to be in.

'Hm. It would be a statement.' No subtly about that. 'The same statement you gave voice to when we met in the shop.' Kray tries to recall the exact wording, not quite there. 'That Autumn alone has to confirm, restrain itself by being here. Or as I put it the Ashen court has been dressed up to make it more palatable to everyone else.' Deep voice clearly disgruntled now. 'That is not the point of our court.' And allowing it to be so for the sake of not stirring the pot. Head shakes, slowly almost disapprovingly. 'Ah. You are Sovereign. You. Do. Have. Control over our court.' As for playing nicely. 'Hm. Well. When we first met you told me Sarah is no dictator. So far I agree.' She actually seems to nice to be real. 'Test that. Talk to her. Explain our situation.' Set the trap. She'll either have to stand by and allow it, or contest it which gives us reason to act.

He settles back. 'Ah. Time frame doesn't bother me. I've drafted up ideas, and what I'd need to pull it off. None of it is anything close to quick.' Holding to the ideal seemed to matter more. 'We serve a purpose. It a lot harder to do with hands tied behind our back.' We aren't joy or wrath or sorrow. We contest the what's out there our way.

The last pieces of his current loaf vanish as so much else does into the terrible jaws. 'Uh. All in all, that was decent.' Nod of approval for the baking. But he had yet to find food that he wouldn't eat. 'Oh. Yes please.' To the offer of tea.

I wonder if he's seen what I've been up to then in there? 'Yeah. Been putting in some work on the hollow myself, a little quality of life, a door of my own to a fruit patch. Thought it might be good for the court to have a few on hand.' Trunk like arms cross over a barrel chest. 'I'm listening?' So we're sneaking off is that it?

[Anatole]

Anatole responds to the Gristlegrinder's stare with one of his own. There is a twist to his mouth, part smile and part snarl. And then, abruptly, he nods.

"Now that sounds like an idea."

He turned away and prepared the tea.

"Oh excellent. The Hollow has been empty for some time. I honestly didn't know what to do with it; so I'm glad someone else has bought in and imposed a little of themselves on the place."

He looked over his shoulder.

"The Hollow is carved out of the Thorns. Its the Doors that do all the linking. So I've been considering doing some scouting for a suitable location this side and putting a Door in place from there. My current theory... Is to find a nice old, abandoned building. Or two. And link the Hollow to there. I figure there should be plenty of options what with the economy being tight. Free ourselves from Funderland by default."

He poured boiling water into a waiting tea-pot and then set up a tray with mugs, milk and sugar. He bought the lot across to the table and finally sat, comfortable to let the tea seep while he selected bread and butter.

"Its just the muggle legal side of things - with Edna's -that bothers me."

Which was true, to an extent.

"But if you have already turned your mind to it..."

Maybe Kray was right. Autumn needed to move. Winter was gone and he'd never seen Summer invest too deeply in the theme park apart from Circe's explorations of the prohibition tunnels.

[Kray]

It’s when the harvest king turns way that an angle occurs to Kray that he had yet to consider and he feels suitably oafish for having not considered it sooner. ‘They’re your friends aren’t they.’ He even said they were close, and here I am a stranger pressuring him to do something that could damage that. ‘Autumn being unchained would be good for them to, good for the freehold.’ His voice has softened considerably, lost the judgmental edges. ‘If the court is strong, the freehold, those in it are safer.’ The courts exist for a purpose. ‘They might understand, they might not, can’t know till something is said or done.’ Kray pauses. ‘You told me of times even other lost feared to approach autumn. We don’t need to take it that far.’ Honestly that seems to defeat the point of being in a freehold somewhat. 'And the time it'll take to get organised and sorted, it gives plenty of time for people to get used to the idea.' Ease them into it.


He leans back in his chair and it makes ominous sounds of protest, that go ignored. ‘Ah. Well if I am going to be focusing my efforts on.’ Looks around the building. ‘Edna’s revival.’ That’s what the Ogre was calling it. ‘The Hollow will have to wait a bit before I can find more to put into it.’ One major project at a time. ‘But I’ll get around to it.’ Eventually.


The shards that are his flinty pupils have relaxed some Kray is making an effort to be less confrontational. But there is a little furrow of the brow with that Idea. ‘Anatole, sneaking off out the back, secret hideaways and hidden agendas. Sounds more like a Winter way of doing it.’ And besides. ‘If you’re worried moving what we have will make a statement or look like some kind of move. If this warehouse, property or whatever is discovered, what then, what will that look like?’ He is turning the Burnt Dwarves own argument against him, if only to point out that the course proposed carries greater risk for disruption.


He manages a small smile. ‘The mortal part is easy if done right.’ Because all mortals have something in common. ‘All mortals want something. Money, fame, power, successes, good looks, whatever.’ The point is made. ‘And the right deal with me can get them what they want, providing they give me what I want of course.’ By hard graft or pledge craft I’m like a terrifying Genie. ‘And once I made the right friends in the right places.’ A grey hand waves like it's dispersing mist. ‘Problem solved.’ And everyone involved benefits.


He nods once. ‘More than just turned, been actively thinking on it.’ Two fingers come up. ‘My plan has two phases.’ Like I said, not quick. ‘First get Enda’s moved somewhere. Second fake a murder like those done before.’ He waits looking for approval or criticisms of the very broad strokes of a much more complex plan. ‘It’s important to pace them otherwise it just looks like a popularity move.’ And we don’t want that. 'Unless of course we do want to stay put and rebrand?' Fear might be our emotion, but autumn has other themes after all.

[Vincent Black]

Vincent walks in, a looking a little worse for wear. He had a long day, but was happy to see the others, as he took a few more sips from his energy drink. "Hey fellas, is it just here for now?"

Vincent was concerned with the numbers that were seen here, especially since the party animals, Sonnie Wu and Seraphina had not made their appearance yet.

[Anatole]

Anatole was listening, spreading butter on bread with his head leaning slightly to one side.

"That is true... I have been getting soft, I suppose. Too comfortable. And they are friends..."

After some of the events over the last twelve months, for certain.

He shifted in his seat and blew out his moustaches.

"So. So why dont we stop avoiding the inevitable then. I could probably move Edna's with my own resources. That should get things moving..."

He stopped, eyes fixating on the new figure in the room. He smiled.

"Good to see you Vincent. Come in and take a seat. Have some food. Edna's is open to the Lost today."

Was he not the Harvest King?